Chapter 21: The Order of Veil [4]
"So... What exactly were you doing there?"
Mikael hadn’t expected Edmund and The Order to find out about his whereabouts this soon.
He could think of a lot of loose threads about how they could have found out.
The partner of carriage driver Thomas, or perhaps that adventurer Jeanne, claimed to have hired.
Tho he doubts the adventure would have opened his mouth, Jeanne would have probably already bribed or frightened that man into silence.
He couldn’t imagine that fool giving out any information.
Or it could also be the carriage driver he hired from Ashvale town.
He sighed internally.
’Well.. it didn’t matter now.’
The information was already out.
The case of Mr. Dyre’s death wouldn’t have spiraled this far if not for the other strange deaths cropping up around the city.
As a result, both Churches were under heavy scrutiny.
The Orders’ higher-ups were probably also pressuring Edmund to solve the case quickly.
And if he couldn’t, the case would be handed to another captain or probably even to a Deacon--who were Tier 7 awakeners of the Church.
And Edmund, who saw himself as a Cold Justicer, wouldn’t be able to stomach this humiliation of handing the case to another captain or a Deacon.
"....."
"I asked you a question."
He met Edmund’s eyes without blinking.
"I heard the question. And I’m choosing not to answer it. I’ll only answer to a high-ranking member of the Order. Your rank isn’t enough."
Edmund’s expression hardened, and the air around him began to shimmer with visible pressure.
"I’ll ask you one more time, boy. What were you doing in Mournwood Forest?"
Jeanne quickly appeared between them, her emerald-green essence flaring out.
Her eyes glowed with cold fury.
"What do you think you’re doing, Edmund Varn. The Morwell family has cooperated fully with your investigation. But I will not permit you to use any violence--"
"Lady Morwell."
He cut her midsentence.
"This investigation proceeds under the authority of the Holy See of Sableth. By the Goddess’s own decree, the Order of the Veil holds jurisdiction over all matters pertaining to people’s safety. Interference is not merely insubordination—it is heresy."
Jeanne’s jaw tightened.
"You dare—"
"The Church recognizes no hereditary privilege. Your title means nothing here. Your rank means nothing here. If you obstruct this inquiry, I will have you detained and charged before the Ecclesiastical Court. I doubt your father, the Marquess, would appreciate the political implications."
Jeanne gritted her teeth.
She was strong, already Tier 5 at the age of 20 —one of the youngest in a generation, a genius whose name was already spoken alongside the Empire’s finest.
But standing opposite to her was Edmund Varn, captain of ’The Order of Viel’.
Even though he was not a genius like her, he had no great innate talent.
He was still a Tier 6, a whole rank above her.
And against someone like Jeanne, who was not even a Tier 5 for more than a year.
He had spent close to ten or fifteen years at Tier 6, trapped there because his Willpower stat fell short of the threshold required to advance beyond Rank 6.
Unable to rank up, he had instead refined his essence to an unbelievable degree for any ordinary Tier 6 awakener.
And the gulf between their ranks was far too vast.
The leap from Tier 5 to Tier 6 was greater than the distance from Tier 2 to Tier 5 combined.
Jeanne could fight him.
She might even land a blow.
But she couldn’t win..... and they both knew it.
Worse, she couldn’t afford the consequences.
A direct attack on an Order captain during an official investigation would give the Church every justification to move against House Morwell.
Their enemies in the noble court would feast on the scandal.
Her hand trembled at her side, essence flickering on her pale skin.
Mikael reached out and caught her wrist.
"Jeanne. Don’t.... this is exactly what he wants."
She turned to him with her eyes wide.
"Mikael—"
"Trust me." He squeezed her wrist once, then released it. "Please."
The conflict in her expression was agonizing....
The war between protective fury and cold reason playing out in the space of a heartbeat.
Then, slowly, she stepped back.
Edmund’s lips curled with the faintest trace of satisfaction.
"Wise decision."
He turned his full attention back to Mikael, and the massive essence pressure crashed onto him.
Mikael felt as if he were being plunged into the depths of the ocean.
The weight pressed down from all directions—on his shoulders, his chest, his skull, every part of his body.
His feet staggered, but he locked his knees and refused to fall.
Every breath became a battle, his lungs straining against an invisible vise as the pressure closed in.
His vision blurred at the edges, dark spots swimming across his field of view.
A translucent grey window flickered in the corner of his eye.
[Willpower: 5.7]
He had spent more than three years inside Liren’s memories.
Three years experiencing her grief and her rage and her endless, aching solitude.
Three years of pain that wasn’t his own, of horrors that defied human comprehension, of standing at the edge of madness and refusing to fall.
In comparison to all the pain he had endured until now.
Compared to the pain erasure from the massive red eye...
Compared to all that.
It was nothing.
He would not kneel.
Edmund’s eyes narrowed.
The boy before him was not even Tier 2 yet.
He should have been a crumpled, weeping mess on the floor.
Instead, he stood perfectly alright, his ghostly grey eyes locked onto Edmund’s with an intensity that bordered on defiance.
Blood trickled from his nose, tracing a crimson line above his lips.
But he didn’t look away from Edmund’s eyes.
Edmund had been holding back--sparing a lowly Tier 1 out of something like disdain.
But that unwavering stare of refusal to break pricked at his pride.
He exponentially increased his essence pressure on Mikael.
Mikael felt as if an entire mountain had crashed onto him, and the floorboard beneath his feet cracked.
He was suffering from internal bleeding.
As his vision began to swim, the world around him tilted.
Jeanne’s eyes widened.
She couldn’t take it anymore, nor did she care about any consequences.
Dropping into a low sword stance, she let her emerald-green essence flare to life around her hand.
The essence crystallized in a heartbeat, solidifying into an emerald sword that gleamed with lethal intent.
The air around her shimmered with contained power as she drew the blade back, poised to sever Edmund’s entire arm in one desperate stroke.
But before she could move, suddenly...
Chime--!
A single, melodic note rang through the room.
In the same instant,
The crushing essence pressure bearing down on Mikael suddenly vanished.
It was as if something had sliced clean through Edmund’s essence pressure.
"What—?!"
Edmund staggered as the abrupt backlash of essence hit him.
Mikael lurched forward with a ragged gasp, blood spattering the floorboards.
Jeanne caught him at once with her free arm, steadying him before he could fall.
Tap!
Suddenly, a small shape landed soundlessly on all four legs between Mikael and Edmund.
It was a cat with fur like black smoke and greyish-green eyes glowing faintly.
"Mewo~"
The cat meowed almost playfully, a stark contrast to the tension crackling in the room.
"What is a black cat doing—"
Edmund didn’t even finish his sentence as heavy, horrifying pressure descended on him.
It was unlike anything he had experienced before.
His body slammed face-first into the floorboards, the impact rattling through his skull.
His arms splayed uselessly at his sides, his cheek ground flat against splintered wood.
Every muscle in his body screamed with the effort to move and found itself utterly paralyzed.
He couldn’t even breathe properly—each inhalation was a shallow, desperate wheeze against the invisible mountain crushing him into the ground.
But then his eyes widened... this horrifying presence.
He had felt it only once before, years ago.
And it had haunted his nightmares ever since.
’It’s her.’
****
Meanwhile,
The cat, utterly indifferent to the Tier 6 awakener flattened behind it, turned with fluid grace.
It padded toward Mikael, greenish-grey eyes fixed on the bloodied boy.
Mikael let out a bloody smile.
He lowered himself onto one knee before the cat as he ignored the ache screaming through his body and the warm blood still tracing down his face.
His trembling hand slipped into his pocket and emerged with something small---
A red, fruit-shaped ball that gleamed faintly with a sweet, medicinal scent.
The cat’s nose twitched as she accepted the offering with delicate teeth, chewing contentedly as Mikael ran his fingers gently over the top of her head, tracing the soft fur between her ears.
"Hahaha... thanks for helping me, little one.
"I knew you’d come looking for me, after the first taste."
Everything had unfolded exactly as he’d planned.
He let out a slow breath.
"And I knew you’d follow this little one here...."
He turned to his right towards the woman who had just appeared beside him out of thin air.
".....ArchBishop."
*****
