Lichtenstein Castle.
The great clock of the cathedral had just passed nine-thirty.
That morning, the group had already returned from the cliffside back to the mansion and gathered inside the second-floor library.
Despite all manner of magical probing, the castle held no secret compartments or hidden mechanisms awaiting discovery. The detective had already skipped over every potential clue-laden spot.
Still, the master’s chambers and the library-like archive room might contain fragments of useful historical intelligence: perhaps insights into this enigmatic age, records of the blood clans’ relationship with humans, or documentation on the Honing Empire.
Even if it didn’t help solve the mystery of the Shadow World, recording it could still prove valuable—something for the Southern Continent’s Shadow World Association to share with researchers in deciphering this crucial slice of history.
Aside from Lan Qi and Huperion, who stayed together, the other challengers kept to groups of three, maintaining a cautious distance between one another.
Lan Qi strolled leisurely to the window, drew back the red velvet curtains, and sunlight poured over the dark-brown bookshelves, revealing the wood’s grain more vividly than in the early dawn.
On the spines of the ancient tomes, the once-faded gilt letters gleamed again in the light.
With the transparency of the sun, the air in the library felt fresher, scented faintly of ink and wax, as though one could almost hear the murmurs of the books themselves, whispering stories long forgotten by history.“Since we all agreed to investigate some intelligence before Detective returns, let’s start by searching for books on the blood clan.”
Standing by the window, bathed in sunlight, Lan Qi addressed the others.
Though no longer led by the detective’s absolute authority, the two most trustworthy figures left were clear: the [Merchant’s Son]—the so-called young master of the Chamber of Commerce—was unreliable. That left only the [Lawyer], the detective’s companion, who appeared steady.
Yet it was exactly that calm, unshakable demeanor that made him feel faintly dangerous.
That slight, ever-present smile on his lips… In a castle filled with killing intent, he seemed more like a man enjoying a vacation in a country manor.
“I have a suggestion. Why don’t we just burn all these books?”
The voice of a young noblewoman from the Krei Empire rang out. She had barely spoken before, but now all eyes turned toward her.
In her party of battle-priest, knight, and junior cleric, the knight merely stood silently at her side, while the little cleric shrank further under everyone’s gaze.
“Since the detective bypassed all the mechanisms to find the answers, then these mechanisms—and the records tied to them—hold little value for us. If we destroy them, we may rob the traitors of crucial intelligence as well.”
Her tone was firm, resolute.
The group fell into silence. Thinking carefully, her reasoning held weight.
“But it’s also possible these books contain information useful only to us challengers. Especially regarding the second mission objective… I think it’s safer for us to quickly filter through anything related to the blood clan instead.”
One of the Northern Continent priests of the Church of the Goddess of Fate hesitated but seemed inclined to support Lan Qi’s decision.
The library grew quiet again.
In the end, it was a matter of gambling or not.
Burning the books might erase intelligence vital to the traitors.
“I personally oppose burning books… but let’s put it to a vote.”
Lan Qi shrugged like a peacemaker—indifferent to the outcome, so long as the matter could be settled calmly.
The three priests of the Northern Continent voted against burning, valuing ancient records of the blood clan. Huperion naturally stood with Lan Qi, supporting preservation.
Only the Krei Empire’s three members voted for burning.
The young master of the Chamber wavered between the two sides. He had wanted to look bold by burning the books, but in the end chose the safer side with Lan Qi and the clergy. The twin bodyguards said nothing—practically an abstention, their stance meaningless.
Thus, the cautious faction held majority. No one complained at the result, and they began their search—moving in groups of five or six, always keeping one another in sight as they combed the shelves.
The rustling of pages, the soft murmurs exchanged, filled the room as time slipped away.
Lan Qi said nothing, fingertips brushing across the spines, as though conversing silently with the knowledge itself.
Opening one tome after another, his eyes were sharp, deep with focus.
Huperion secretly studied Lan Qi’s expression.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that, after the vote, something had solidified in his mind—but what, exactly, remained hidden.
…
The entire morning passed with their searching.
Every book suspected of holding key information had to pass through at least two groups’ hands, to ensure no one could conceal findings.
Near noon—
Someone opened a volume, and at once everyone’s Mission Objective 2: Uncover the secrets and dangers hidden within the castle
shifted.A new note appeared: [Core intelligence collected. Pending decryption.]
All eyes turned toward the Chamber’s young master, who stood bewildered, holding an ancient tome inscribed with demonic script.
“This says… there’s a type of ancient sealing art. When the powers of sun, moon, and stars are gathered, a mighty and eternal seal is formed. Conversely, to break such a seal requires fresh blood infused with moon and star power, and the ritual must be performed hidden from the sun.”
He flipped quickly, reading aloud the key passage, his face clouded with confusion.
“This is a grimoire… The magical script is beyond me. Does anyone here understand sealing arts?”
Behind him, the twin guards stayed silent. They were assassins, trained in little magic—certainly not sealing, a craft rare even among professional mages.
All eyes turned to the Krei Empire’s mage girl and the Northern priest.
Only they had hope of reading it.
“I am not proficient in sealing magic,” the priest admitted, shaking his head.
In this age, few priests were. On the Northern Continent, sealing was notorious, sullied by the massacres wrought by Archbishop Askesan of the Extinction Sect.
“I know a little. Let me see.”
The Empire mage stepped forward, took the book, and leafed through it swiftly. From start to end, she could only sigh and shake her head.
“This book’s content is written in demon-magic script—or more accurately, in a transitional form between pure demon script and the earliest human magical language.”
She explained gravely.
Legend says humans once knew nothing of magic, until demons taught them. Overuse of demon script, however, warped and maddened humans into monsters—a fact borne out even today.
Over ages, human sorcerers refined the script into early human magic text, one that allowed spellcasting without ruinous cost.
But this tome’s writing still lingered between—neither wholly demon nor fully human.
Unreadable to humans… and perhaps even to demons themselves.