Chapter 32: Night Feast

Chapter 32: Night Feast

Late at night in Igwynt, dark clouds hung low, and the moonlight grew dim.

In some hidden corner of Igwynt, inside a lavishly decorated yet dimly lit room, a banquet was underway.

A thick stench of blood permeated the room. Upon a luxurious dark-red patterned carpet stood a long table covered with a pristine white tablecloth. Exquisite tableware and candleholders were arranged atop it; red candles burned faintly in the holders, their light illuminating heaps of mangled, bloody flesh piled on the plates.

Seated on both sides of the dining table were four figures. All four were male, dressed neatly and properly like gentlemen. And like gentlemen, they used knives and forks to eat the flesh on their plates.

At the head of the table, however, stood an empty high-backed chair. No one was seated there.

“Gentlemen, regarding Edrick—what have your investigations turned up?”

Closest to the empty chair sat a thin, middle-aged man with gloomy eyes, neatly combed brown-black hair, and a small mustache. After wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth, he glanced around the table and spoke.

“Nothing,” replied a young man, who was casually slicing a piece of meat.

“I’ve mobilized all my resources—nothing at all. Ever since that day, there’s been no trace of him,” said a balding, middle-aged man of average build. He was Burton, the owner of 22 Elmwood West Alley.

“There’s no one named Edrick to be found in this city. My people searched the lower reaches of the Ironclay River and never heard of such a man coming ashore. Either he drowned, or he’s already left the city… or else—”

An elderly man with disheveled clothes, one eye larger than the other, slightly hunched, and with a napkin soaked in blood looked across the table at Burton and spoke with a hint of mockery.

“—or Burton’s intelligence was wrong. His lackeys mistook someone, and we’ve wasted several days for nothing!”

“What did you say, Corliffe?”

Burton bristled, glaring at the old man. “Are you questioning my intelligence?”

“Heh~ and what if I am?” Corliffe sneered. “If it really was that brat Edrick who sold Albert out in Vulcan, he should’ve run as far away as possible long ago. How would he dare come to Igwynt, selling our goods right under our noses? Who gave him the guts to openly provoke us like this? Where did he get the confidence and capital to do so? So I say your intelligence is wrong!”

“You—!”

Hearing Corliffe’s words, Burton grew anxious and angry. He turned his gaze toward the man seated closest to the head of the table.

“Buck— let’s just use divination to determine Edrick’s location. Ordinary methods clearly can’t find him anymore!”

Hearing Burton’s plea, the mustached man—Buck—took a sip of “red wine,” then turned calmly toward him.

“The divination opportunity left behind by our mentor can only be used once. It is extremely precious. Unless it concerns a major matter threatening the entire society, I will not use it.”

“But… Albert is already dead…”

“Even so,” Buck replied coldly. “If I say now is not the time, then it is not the time. Our mentor is currently preparing for ascension and has no time to manage the society. By his instructions, everything here is under my authority.”

Buck fixed Burton with a sharp gaze. Burton swallowed and said nothing further.

After surveying everyone present, Buck continued.

“Continue keeping an eye on Edrick. However, given that the intelligence may be flawed, do not invest too much effort into it. We have other matters to attend to next.”

Buck paused slightly. When everyone’s attention turned fully to him, he continued to speak.

“According to new intelligence, the younger sister of Gregorius, captain of the Serenity Bureau’s Third Squad, has already arrived in Igwynt. Although the task we previously assigned to Edrick may have failed due to his suspected betrayal, that doesn’t mean our original plan should be abandoned…”

“Buck… are you saying we’re still going to make a move against Gregorius’s sister?” Corliffe narrowed his eyes slightly as he spoke. Buck nodded in response.

“Gregorius’s talent is something all of you have witnessed. He entered the hidden world barely two years ago and already became a Shadower. His exceptional combat ability has caused us no small amount of trouble. If we can deal with him—better yet, lure him to our side—the Serenity Bureau’s suppressive power in Igwynt will be greatly weakened.”

Hearing Buck’s words, Burton also nodded.

“Indeed… Compared to the other squad captains of the Serenity Bureau, Gregor is the youngest, the least cautious, and the most inexperienced—making him the easiest target. If we can control his only younger sister and use her to get close to Gregorius, then the sharpest blade in Bureau’s sharpest hand will become ours…”

“So, Buck—what’s the situation with his sister now?”

Taking another sip of “red wine,” Buck answered slowly,

“According to intelligence, two mornings ago, Gregorius enrolled his sister at Saint Amanda School.”

“Saint Amanda? That’s not an easy place to act…” Corliffe frowned slightly upon hearing this, and Buck nodded in agreement.

“Correct. Which is why we’ll have to act outside the school grounds. I’ve already begun making arrangements. It’s a bit risky, but this time I’ve decided to have our own people handle it personally.”

As he spoke, Buck speared another piece of meat and placed it into his mouth. The raw, uncooked flesh was chewed slowly, dark-red blood leaking from the corner of his lips.

……

On a clear morning, in the western outskirts of Igwynt, by the banks of the Ironclay River—Saint Amanda School.

Inside a spacious room, bright sunlight streamed in through open windows, illuminating a low table. Upon it sat several geometric objects of various shapes. Under the sunlight, the plaster forms displayed clear contrasts of light and shadow—black, white, and gray. Surrounding the table was a circle of students, each with an easel, sketching the plaster forms. Every student studied the shadows intently, striving to reproduce them faithfully on paper.

Among them was Dorothy.

‘Damn… I really didn’t expect this school to make art a compulsory subject…’

Grumbling inwardly, Dorothy looked again at the geometric shapes she had drawn. The more she looked, the more awkward they seemed.

‘Ahhh… why does something that clearly requires talent like art have to be mandatory… This is impossible to deal with…’

More than once, Dorothy erased the barely blocked-in shapes, preparing to start over.

‘If I keep redrawing like this, it’ll never end… At this rate I won’t even be able to hand in the assignment before class ends…’

Just then, one of the male students accidentally knocked over the low table while bending down to pick up an eraser. The geometric plaster forms scattered across the floor, the loud clatter startling everyone nearby.

‘Nice one, kid! I was already sick of how those plaster shapes were arranged—perfect excuse to reset them…’

Seeing the scene, Dorothy felt a burst of delight, but she still bent down to help pick up the scattered objects.

When she picked up one of the cubes, however, she frowned.

‘So heavy… and so cold… This texture, this weight… it doesn’t feel like plaster at all…’

She carefully ran her fingers over the cube again.

‘This feels more like… stone? These geometric objects are all stone? Aren’t still-life setups normally made with plaster? What’s going on here…?’

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