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Chapter 88 - The Eye - Leonard 33

Twin shrieks of surprise echoed through the chamber, loud enough for Leonard to be unsure if they had been heard even above ground.

He gave them a few seconds to compose themselves until they finally stopped holding their hearts in fear. “You can’t have expected no one to come take a look after all that rumbling and mana surge, right?”

Faster on the uptake, the young spy bowed in apology, “Grand Marshal, I’m terribly sorry to have disturbed you!”

On the other hand, the bard took a moment longer to apologize, giving Leonard a long once-over. “Yes, terribly sorry, sir. I’m afraid it’s something of a hazard when ancient, mysterious artifacts are involved.”

Leonard merely raised an eyebrow, waiting for a better explanation.

The girl didn’t even try to hold back and immediately launched into a longwinded story about how she started suspecting something valuable had been left behind in the castle, how she got confirmation from the previous head maid, ended up being attacked for her snooping, and was assigned a shadow as a guard alongside the bard.

“This led us to the disguise plot. I feared she’d refuse to help, if only because the Count hadn’t wanted to take the Eye with him. However, he was known for flip-flopping on his decisions, so she mustn’t have thought it too weird.” Her voice started nervous, but seeing he wasn’t interrupting, she picked up steam.

She then explained how the maid and Sigurd navigated the castle’s labyrinthine servant corridors, avoiding guards by hiding in closets and using every trick they knew to stay unnoticed while she hid in the shadows, watching. She detailed how they reached the kitchen’s cold room and found the secret chamber through the maid’s whispered incantation. Her recounting was precise, capturing every detail leading up to their discovery of the mirror.

When she finished, she took a deep breath, satisfied.

Leonard waited for a moment, and when it was evident nothing more was coming, he asked with a faint smile. "And what happened next?”

Eleanor’s face flushed as she realized her mistake. "Oh! Yes, I didn’t—well, I didn’t explain what happened with the mirror," she admitted, glancing nervously at Sigurd for support.

The bard, ready to step into the spotlight, took over smoothly. "It’s quite the artifact, Grand Marshal,” his tone shifted to one of respectful seriousness. "The mirror is powered by mana crystals embedded throughout the chamber. All the mana crystals. I initially thought they might be here for storage, but they are all connected to it and contribute power. When Eleanor stepped in front of the mirror, it drew an absurd amount of mana in and activated, but we’re still unsure what it’s showing us. Now that I think about it, it might be why it was left behind. If it needs this much mana every use, it cannot be removed from a dedicated chamber.”

Leonard’s amusement faded the more he listened. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, especially because he had never heard even a whisper of such a thing being held here, but was it possible that the Luster-Treons didn’t know what they had?

Sigurd continued undeterred, "The runes on the mirror aren’t anything I recognize, and they don’t match any known languages or scripts, as far as I can tell. My best guess is that it’s an otherworldly artifact—something not of this world, or at least not of this dimension. The numbers it shows… well, they seem to be some kind of value, but what that value represents, I can’t tell yet. They didn’t fluctuate, so it might be fixed.”

Leonard’s gaze hardened, the lines of his face sharpening as his seriousness deepened. "Eleanor," he said, his voice low but commanding. "Step back in front of the mirror.”

She hesitated, twisting her hands in anxiety, not able to understand what had led to the shift in behavior. However, Leonard’s tone left no room for argument, and she had worked too hard to earn his trust to falter now.

With a deep breath, she nodded and walked back to the mirror, stepping into the exact spot she had been before. The chamber remained still as if the walls were holding their breath.

As she faced the mirror again, it began to glow softly, the runes around its frame pulsating with a rhythm that matched her heartbeat. The numbers reappeared above her head, floating in the air like an ethereal crown, the same as before.

There was no great power discharge this time, so it seemed like it was an activation requirement or an attunement issue.

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Leonard’s eyes were fixed on the mirror, his expression unreadable but intense. "Do you see anything different?" he asked softly.

Eleanor looked into the mirror, then back at Leonard, shaking her head. "No, it’s the same as before. I have no idea what fifty-four might stand for, and those below it all seem slightly higher apart from the last one.”

Sigurd’s usual levity was gone, replaced by a keen alertness. To Leonard, he seemed very curious but entirely unknowing of what they had found. He wondered if it was the truth or just an act by a skilled spy. "Do you know what this is, Grand Marshal?" The bard asked cautiously.

“I show not what the eye can see, but what the Eye can see.” Leonard read aloud, eyes fixed on the inscriptions on the mirror’s frame.

“So it is from another world!” Sigurd exclaimed in vindication, only to shut his mouth with an audible click. “Sorry, I got too excited. Please continue.” Leonard gave him a sidelong glance but didn’t chastise him. Instead, he continued reading the inscription, his voice low and measured. “The truth being revealed to all, only the Eye can see the Gods’ Judgment.”

Sigurd visibly vibrated with excitement at the implications, but for once, he restrained himself from immediately launching into speculation. Eleanor, on the other hand, looked thoroughly confused. The words held a weight she didn’t fully understand, and she instinctively looked to Leonard for guidance.

For a moment, the Grand Marshal remained silent, his eyes scanning the mirror and the inscriptions. Finally, he spoke, his tone serious and deliberate. "You two have done well. This discovery is invaluable, and you’ll be rewarded handsomely for your efforts.”

Sigurd and Eleanor exchanged a glance. This was very good news, but both sensed more to come.

"But," Leonard continued, his voice taking on a harder edge, "it would be wise to forget what you’ve seen here for your safety. This isn’t something you should be burdened with.”

Eleanor’s face fell. She had worked hard to get here, even going against the advice of her superiors and risking her life several times. Abandoning what she had sacrificed so much to reach must have felt wrong.

Before she could protest, Sigurd interjected, his usual playful tone gone. "It must be something huge then," he said slowly, almost as if thinking out loud. "I always suspected there were some deep, dark secrets held back from the masses, but if you’re saying this isn’t safe for us to know..." He trailed off, his eyes narrowing as he studied Leonard’s expression.

Leonard’s gaze locked onto the bard's, his eyes like steel. The weight of his stare was almost unbearable, and yet, Sigurd didn’t back down. His curiosity and determination were stronger than his fear. Emboldened by Sigurd’s resolve, Eleanor stood tall beside him, her confusion becoming a quiet defiance.

The air in the room was almost impossibly heavy, crackling with unspoken words. Leonard assessed them both, maintaining a stern look as he thought about what being honest here could lead to. But he could see that leaving them with so little information would only lead to recklessness—a risk he couldn’t afford, especially now.

It is out of the question to fully explain the system's intricacies to them. I haven’t even gone that far for Amelia. But they have already seen this. I could shuttle them to the backlines, where we can keep an eye on them and monitor who they talk to, but that’s likely to breed resentment. No, they already know too much. The best lie is wrapped in truth, and it’s not like I can casually upend their understanding of reality in a single sitting.

“It is widely understood that the Light enjoys order.” He began, earning two confused nods. This was basic knowledge, after all. “This explains Blessings, as they are a distinct step away from the natural order. It’s not a process that could happen without a driving force.” Again, this wasn’t anything too esoteric—just Temple teachings.

“Among the world’s great powers, this is understood to be a more nuanced process than most think.” And this was the tricky part. His first explanation to Amelia had been almost exactly the same, though she had required some demonstration without the help of a mystical artifact. She then proceeded to deduce much of what he knew on her own, but he wasn’t about to reveal everything today and didn’t expect the two to get so far without aid. “The Light categorizes us down to the smallest part to judge us with inhuman precision.”

“Ah.” The sound left Sigurd’s lips without realizing it, though he refrained from further interrupting.

“Yes, I can see you understand. This mirror is one of few artifacts capable of peering away from our layer of reality and into the Light. The runes on it are otherworldly simply because to craft such a thing, one needs an incredible connection to the Light, and who is known to have that reliably?”

“Heroes and Saints,” Eleanor murmured, earning a nod of approval.

“That is correct. What you are seeing there is a representation of what the Light thinks of you.” And that was the end of the explanation. Already, Leonard could see it would take some time for the two to digest the information, though weirdly enough, he suspected the girl would come to terms with it faster. Sigurd was likely to spend a long time thinking about all the implications and then some more brooding himself into knots.

“I’m sure you’ll have some questions once you have had some time to digest this, and if I have the time, I’ll make sure to answer what I can, but for the moment, I’ll need an oath from the both of you to never speak to anyone else without my express permission, of what you’ve learned here. I’m sure you understand why knowledge of such artifacts can be a significant asset.” Leonard’s tone was placid, but his eyes pinned the two down, pressing on their souls in an inescapable grip.

"We understand," Eleanor finally said, if a bit unsteady. Sigurd nodded in agreement, though there was a flicker of something more in his gaze—a curiosity not yet sated but tempered by caution.

"Good," Leonard said, his tone softening slightly. "Now, repeat after me.”

“I stand before you with the Light as my witness, and I swear upon its eternal truth that I shall never speak of, nor reveal through any means, the knowledge I have gained here within this chamber. I vow to keep these secrets hidden from all, save for those explicitly permitted by Leonard Weiss. I shall take no action that could lead to transmitting this knowledge directly or indirectly. Should I falter or break this vow, I accept whatever judgment and consequence the Light deems just. By the Light, this oath is bound, and upon my soul, it shall be held.” As they spoke, the chamber seemed to grow deathly still. A faint, ethereal glow descended upon them, the Light responding to their words. The glow coalesced into thin, shimmering threads that encircled their bodies, barely visible but undeniably present.

But Leonard wasn’t done. He reached out, his hand cutting through the air with purpose, and grabbed hold of the Light itself. Eleanor and Sigurd gasped in unison as they felt the threads respond, thickening and solidifying into chains of pure, radiant energy. They wound tighter, embedding themselves deeper into their very beings, binding them to their oath in a way that felt as tangible as any physical restraint.

There would be no getting out of this.