A white carriage parked in front of Royal Magic Academy. Decorated in crimson and golden engravements, it drew the attention of all the imperial guards stationed at the entrance. They straightened their backs, saluted, and shouted their greetings.
The driver got down and knocked on the carriage door. He held his breath while stepping backwards. Several soldiers behind him also tensed up.
The door creaked open. A handsome man cloaked in a yellow-furred crimson mantle alighted the carriage. His uniform, that of a high-ranking official, commanded the atmosphere.
“How’s the situation?” he said.
“We’ve already subdued the culprits,” a knight said. “Commander, you’ve just returned from the expenditure; you should take a break.”
“If you have time to worry about me, you have time to patrol another round.”
The knight rigidly saluted and went away with his partner, who grumbled at him. The handsome man retracted his gaze and turned to beside him, where his trusted aid stood.
Mugin shook his head and swiped his messy brown hair away from his forehead.
“Halinant, you really should rest,” he said. “There is nothing you can do here. The Evil Cults have already retreated . . . and Court of Indulgence is nowhere to be found.”
“Did the Archbishop of Knowledge fail?”
“It’s to be expected. No one can catch Terror of Endless Haze.” Mugin stared at Halinant. “Even if she allowed herself to be caught, none of us can stop her from leaving.”
Halinant frowned. His right hand gripped the handle of his sheathed sword, trembling. “I’ve been waiting for too long. I can afford a few more, so long as I can get to them.”
Mugin sighed. “Let’s not delve into that topic. There’s someone you should meet. Have you heard of Centurion?”
“A famous detective praised by the Church of Knowledge. Did the imperial family commission him?”
“He’s listening to the briefing right now. Since you’re the highest authority at the moment, you should see him.”
Halinant reached inside his pocket and took out a silver pocket watch. He pressed on it, and its lid flicked open. The clock, having been fixed and fixed until it no longer resembled its original appearance, dragged its hands across the faded surface, passing the greyish numbers indicating time.
Above the clock was a crumpled picture of a shy lady. She tilted her head to her side and waved her right hand at the camera. Her long, flowy silver hair clung to her pallid face.
His sister had always been sick since he could remember. Her pale arms used to be the subject of his ridicule, but now they became the subject of his longing.
How funny. He used to be a spoiled brat, always causing his sister and parents headaches. Yet no matter how unreasonable he became, his sister would try her best to accommodate his wish.
Halinant stroked the image, closed the pocket watch, and put it back.
“Where is he now?” he said.
Mugin ordered the knights to escort them into the academy. They passed groups of patrolling knights, who stopped and greeted them with a formal salute. They also encountered a few officers detaining the cultists and other rogue Supernatural Beings.
As they entered the inner part of the academy, a few staff of the academy came to them. They apologised for their lack of hospitality. The Principal and the Vice Principals were busy assessing the damage to various critical locations, especially Alchemy Warehouse and Mystic Tower.
Halinant didn’t mind. He assured them of his coming for Centurion, to whom the staff gladly led him.
Centurion was in the Lecture Hall, in an empty classroom, where he and his assistants pinned countless documents against the walls and whiteboards. They walked around the room, marked and scribbled information on the papers, and connected a few papers with strings and pins.
Halinant knocked on the door and entered the room. The knights and staff guiding him had already returned to their position. Only his assistant, Mugin, stayed with him.
Centurion looked at the newcomers and, seeing his medals and rank emblem, smiled. He let his assistants take a break and pushed his daughter, who insisted she helped him with the case, out of the room.
“Is there anything I could help you with, Sir Halinant?” Centurion said.
“There’s no need to be so formal, Mister Centurion,” Mugin said. “We only come here to check on your progress. Sir Halinant won’t disturb your work—”
“How much do you know about Court of Indulgence?” Halinant said.
Centurion raised his brows. He adjusted his gloves before taking out a notebook.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“One of the most reputable Secret Organisations of our country, famous even on the international scale. Court of Indulgence, informally known as The Court, is a Secret Organisation founded by the Corrupted Races.
“They’ve engaged in multiple operations both with and against the high society. Although they rarely reveal their concrete power, their influence has made them a troubling force to apprehend.”
Halinant raised his right hand. “If you’re going to repeat the surface-level knowledge, I’ll have to reevaluate your competency.”
Centurion laughed. “I was simply jesting, Sir. Most people would only ask the question out of formality, but if you wish to know what I know, I’ll gladly oblige.”
Centurion flipped open his notebook and took out a photo. It was the insignia of Court of Indulgence, a black rose held by a feminine skeleton hand. Its quality exuded a magical air, whose illusory scent numbed all minds.
“We still haven’t known the true structure or number of the upper echelon of The Court. There are at least four senior members, excluding the rumoured Court Founder. You must’ve known Terror of Endless Haze and Conductor of Gears.”
Halinant nodded. He had once clashed with Conductor of Gear, the Condensation Phase Monster Girl, whose power involved the nature of time. Her formidable means left a vivid impression.
“Their modus operandi?”
“Although they oppose The Churches and the Evil Cults, The Court is one of the more stable, peaceful Secret Organisations.”
Centurion took out a few muddy pictures, which, from various hidden angles, revealed snippets of Monster Girls acting in secrets, exchanging information and unknown goods.
“They have a hand in various major political movements throughout Garcient Kingdom. The recent exposé of Six Finger Associate is their doing.”
Halinant took a picture of a Monster Girl clinging onto a masked noble lady and stared at it. That noble lady’s joy oozed out of her concealed expression. Halinant crumbled the image and threw it away.
“Are they a force of good?” he said.
Centurion shook his head. “Six Finger Associate traffics slaves and prostitutes, but The Court seduces nobles and civilians. Both criminal, in the end.”
“Any idea about their identities?”
“What grievance do you have with them, Sir?” Centurion looked at Mugin, whose face slightly paled, before he returned his stare to Halinant. “Have they taken your loved ones? Misled your daughter?”
Mugin stepped forwards and tried to shout, but Halinant raised his arm, blocking his friend. His solemn, unblinking eyes met Centurion’s.
“They killed my family, sunk them to the bottom of the sea.”
“My condolence.” Centurion ceased his faint smile and lowered his head. “I too have lost my wife to a Secret Organisation. Now, I only have my daughter. Xiaotan’s her name. Isn’t she quite adorable?”
Centurion diffused the tense atmosphere and steered the conversation to his daughter. Halinant decided not to pivot the topic back and went along with the flow. They chatted about mundane subjects, those that provoked no negative responses, and centred their stories to their nostalgic past.
The thoughts of his late sister and parents pinched Halinant’s heart, but he revealed nothing in his steadfast pupils. He complimented Centurion and promised to look after Xiaotan if she ever got into trouble.
Mugin soon reminded Halinant of his schedule, and the two bid farewell. After they left, Xiaotan snuck into the room, watching her father caressing a picture of her mother.
Centurion took a deep breath, put back the picture, and smiled at his daughter.
“Have you found your answer?” he said. “I’ve chatted with the commander for almost an hour.”
Xiaotan chuckled. “They’re indeed resourceful. Our witness account still hasn’t found any incriminating clues. They appear and vanish at the right place, at the right time.”
“You wouldn’t praise them this much if you haven’t figured something out.”
“Father!” Xiaotan pouted, though she couldn’t stop her smile from slipping out. “Indeed. Their invisibility is, in and of itself, evidence. They have to be secretive to avoid exposing their identities, their public façades.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Court of Indulgence is founded upon the premise of freedom and safety.” Xiaotan walked to a large board and pointed at a picture of Mystic Tower, pinned in the middle of the academy’s drawn layout. “Their mission is to rescue the captive Monster Girls, to liberate them. There must be a place for them, a haven where they can regain their freedom.”
Centurion furrowed his brows and then relaxed. “Your reasoning is quite novel, Xiaotan, but you’re getting emotional.”
Xiaotan shook her head. “Father, you always tell me to consider multiple perspectives. No matter which path I take, all that matters is that I never go against my principle.”
“Emotions can cloud your judgement. Objectivity is the best guide to the truth.”
Xiaotan puffed her cheeks but didn’t argue with her father. She couldn’t change her father’s mind, and he couldn’t change hers. They’d debated this issue multiple times to no avail.
It might be why her father hadn’t allowed her to work alone. No matter. She’d prove herself one way or another.
She now had an ally, a confidant, someone who understood her.
“Did you find something?” Centurion said. “You’re smiling too much.”
Xiaotan wiped her happiness off her face. “Since you must take on this case, can I take on the other case?”
She was referring to the case where her supernatural intuition failed.
Centurion laughed. “Unfortunately, the two cases are connected.”
Xiaotan froze. “Why would . . . Court of Indulgence trespass into an empty building? What did you hide from me, Father?”
“Their styles are similar, almost identical. They sprinkle misdirection and conceal themselves, down to even their appearances and traces.”
“And . . . the witness account describes the operation leader as a mysterious noble lady of grace, like an otherworld foreigner.”
“She also has high-level knowledge of magic, likely a former scholar. The alleged ease at which she subdued the professors and students speak volumes of her power.”
Centurion listed a few more compelling reasons linking Court of Indulgence and this operation leader Monster Girl to the previous case. It ranged from eye-witness reports to forensic processes as well as logical inductions. His mind waded through a swarm of information and picked out significant detail confidently.
Despite smiling and nodding along, Xiaotan’s heart raced. The qualities her father described, they reminded her of one of the suspects in the previous case.
Lady Iris, a diligent, modest lady who recently came to Donhalgen after her journey around the Eastern Continent. This adventurous historian came to Donhalgen to publish her findings and pursue her academic goals.
Her knowledge ranged from magic circuit to ancient myths. She could even discern Xiaotan’s special eyes. Such a wonderful person, could she . . . have a darker side?
They interacted a few times, in person and through letters, but Lady Iris had never given an evil impression. A gentle air always lingered around her and everything she touched.
This mustn’t do. Xiaotan trusted her judgement, and she believed in Lady Iris’s words and manner. Lady Iris couldn’t be a being of dark desires.
She would have to spend more time with Lady Iris. To investigate her, of course!