Daytime, in the outskirts of Tivian—on a wide countryside road, several pitch-black carriages sped along. Under the drivers’ control, the horses pulled the heavy carriages at full gallop. Hooves and wheels kicked up clouds of dust, forcing nearby pedestrians and other carriages to hastily make way. Some, after dodging the black carriages, looked toward the dust trailing in the distance and angrily cursed under their breath. As those black carriages passed a more ordinary one coming from the opposite direction, the coachman of the regular carriage glanced back at the receding vehicles before focusing on the road ahead. Inside the carriage, Detective Ed drew the curtain closed and sat back down. Across from him, Misha—now unmasked—was bandaging her wounded palm. “Those were Serenity Bureau carriages. Looks like your colleagues have already been deployed.” “Those are just for the regular officers. The squad captains probably arrived long ago—they can fly, after all. If I’d come out any later, I might’ve gotten tangled up with them.” Misha replied while finishing her bandage. Ed remained calm as he continued. “That proves they timed the Serenity Bureau’s and your family’s reaction windows very precisely. If they had simply blasted open the Hall of Honor with explosives before searching for the relic, there’s a high chance they would’ve been trapped inside by the time reinforcements arrived. That’s why they had to infiltrate first, find the item, and then blow the exit open to escape. It was the most time-efficient strategy.” Hearing Ed’s analysis, Misha flexed her bandaged hand and frowned slightly. “When you first told me the Eight-Spired Nest might’ve set their sights on my family’s crypt, I didn’t quite believe it. I thought, not everyone in the Devonshire family works in the Serenity Bureau—how could they know so much about us? Turns out I was naïve…” “Heh, yeah. We did suspect they might try to sneak into the Hall of Honor under the guise of your funeral, but we treated it as a low-probability event. Never thought it would actually happen. Judging by what we know now, the reason they wanted to eliminate you wasn’t just because you were a thorn in their side—uncooperative and unpredictable—but also because they needed someone from the Devonshire family to die around this time in order to trigger a funeral that would open the Hall of Honor.” “That guy you encountered in the Hall likely used his ability to become shadow, hiding within the funeral procession’s shadows. He followed you and the rest of the group inside and waited until everyone had left before emerging to search Ampere’s coffin.” “So it really was a long-planned operation… The only thing they didn’t account for was us. Everything else, they had calculated perfectly.” Ed said calmly, his seat swaying with the carriage’s motion. In truth, ever since Dorothy learned from John that Ampere’s secret messages had backups stored with Duke Barrett, she had anticipated the Eight-Spired Nest might have deciphered them and would move on the Devonshire crypt upon returning to Tivian. The plan to eliminate Misha was likely tied to this operation from the start—they had intended to use her funeral to enter the Hall of Honor and retrieve Ampere’s relics. Dorothy had indeed expected them to send someone into the crypt, but she thought Misha—an experienced White Ash-rank combatant, especially with her support—would be more than capable of handling any opponent below Crimson-rank. She hadn’t expected the intruder to be so difficult to deal with. Thankfully, they’d still managed to preserve the pendant. “Those people… they didn’t just want me dead—they planned to use my funeral? That’s just vile… and dangerous…” Misha murmured through gritted teeth as she clenched her hand. Recalling the mysterious shadowy figure in the crypt, she added. “That Eight-Spired Nest operative—he could use three different types of Shadow-path abilities. His presence must be connected to some secret plan the Nest is working on. It’s a shame we couldn’t catch him… We might’ve learned something about what they’re really plotting.” Upon hearing her mention the shadowy attacker, Ed fell silent for a moment. Then, looking at Misha’s now-treated injury, he spoke again. “Blood Shade Path, Storm Path… we’re familiar with those here in Pritt. We have countermeasures. But the Spirit Projection Path—that’s where we got caught off guard.” “Spirit Projection Path…” Misha echoed. “I’ve only ever heard of it until now. This was my first time encountering it directly. It’s a Path passed down within the Osotlis royal family. Osotlis is in the central-eastern part of the main continent and doesn’t interact much with Pritt. To people like us in the covert system here, it’s very mysterious. “They say… a person’s shadow is their ‘second soul’—a projection of the soul in the world’s shadow layer. That’s why Spirit Projection Path Beyonders can control others by manipulating their shadows. I used to think it was just like those necromantic spirit mediums, but after fighting one… it’s on a whole other level. He didn’t just control my body via shadow—he could merge into shadows, create shadow clones… Honestly, it fits the Shadow path even better than my Storm Path does…” As she spoke from her seat, Ed rubbed his chin thoughtfully after hearing her explanation. Then he replied slowly. “The shadow… as a person’s second soul? That’s quite the concept. So then, the spirituality makeup of the Spirit Projection Path would be primary Shadow, auxiliary Silence, huh… Miss Misha, that powerful spirit-user your Bureau was searching for last year… you might finally have your lead.” “The soul-user we’ve been hunting since last year…” Misha furrowed her brow. After a moment of reflection, her eyes widened in surprise. “A spirit-user—and a Shadow assassin? You mean that guy was the Night Demon?!” “Only someone with that level of skill could match the Night Demon’s reputation. Slipping past strict defenses, using storm powers to assassinate Duke Barrett, and leaving the victim’s soul unable to be summoned… The ability to wield multiple paths at once lines up perfectly with what we know about the Night Demon.” Ed continued calmly. Hearing his conclusion, the astonishment in Misha’s eyes slowly turned to realization. She nodded. “Yes… that does make sense. Who else but the Night Demon could the Eight-Spired Nest have in Tivian—someone that strong, even beneath Crimson-rank? After Duke Barrett’s assassination, the Night Demon vanished for over half a year. Looks like… he’s returned with their team.” “We originally thought his ability to block spirit summoning came from some rare artifact. But now… it’s clearly not that simple. More importantly… I fought that man inside the Hall of Honor. And inside there, the bloodline ritual restricts intruders. But his strength didn’t seem to be affected at all. If that man really is the Night Demon… that means he might actually be a member of the Devonshire family…” Wearing a clearly worried expression, Misha murmured. Across from her, Ed continued speaking. “Didn’t you say that the Devonshires have intermarried with many noble families in Pritt? There are many descendants in other houses who carry your family’s blood. The Night Demon might be from one of those families—or perhaps he found some other method to bypass the bloodline restriction in the Hall of Honor.” “No matter what, the Night Demon is very likely a Pritt noble based in Tivian, possibly even from an old upper-class house. That’s an important lead for us. Once I return, I’ll try to review my family’s genealogy—maybe I’ll find something.” Misha spoke resolutely. After finishing, she exhaled softly and continued. “Even though this operation had a few hiccups, we still managed to prevent the Eight-Spired Nest from achieving their goal. Thanks to your people’s strange abilities, I was able to keep Ampere’s relic safe. Honestly, more than the Night Demon himself, what truly shocked me today were your mysterious powers… and that so-called god of yours, Aka. Speaking of which, your god—” “Shh…” Just as Misha was about to go on, Ed raised a finger to his lips and made a silencing gesture. Seeing this, Misha closed her mouth with a touch of confusion. Then Ed, with a tone that carried a faint mystique, spoke solemnly. “At all times, speak not lightly of the divine.” “…Understood. Sorry…” Misha replied quietly, sensing that she had unknowingly broached some taboo of Ed’s secret society. She swallowed and apologized. Ed nodded and then pulled an object from within his coat—it was the very pendant Misha had retrieved from the Night Demon: Ampere’s relic. The pendant, both chain and charm, was made of silver. The charm itself took the form of a shield, and on its surface was engraved a four-part heraldic crest. Each quadrant depicted a knight. Dorothy recognized it at once: it was the symbol used by Pritt’s Old Faith faction during the Wind King’s Rebellion. The four knights represented were the lesser deities serving the Mirror Moon Goddess—Wind, Dream, Blood, and Spirit. “Even though we stopped the Night Demon from taking Ampere’s relic, this probably won’t impact the Eight-Spired Nest all that much. They may have already gotten what they wanted.” Looking at the ancient pendant in his hand, Ed spoke calmly. Misha froze for a moment, then frowned and asked in confusion. “They already got what they wanted? But we reclaimed the relic, didn’t we?” Still examining the pendant, Ed turned it over in his hand and began inspecting the silverwork at the back. “I’ve already checked it. This pendant isn’t a mystical item. There’s no trace of spirituality. Its significance isn’t the relic itself—but rather the message hidden on it.” Saying this, Ed showed Misha the reverse side of the pendant’s shield-shaped charm, revealing a ring of small letters engraved along the edge. Misha narrowed her eyes. “This is… ancient Pritt script? So this was Ampere’s secret? The relic isn’t valuable for what it is—but for the message left on it?” “Exactly. So if the Night Demon had already seen and memorized this information, then the relic has already served its true purpose for him. All he has to do now is deliver the content back to the Eight-Spired Nest. From how decisively he discarded the pendant in exchange for escape, I’d say it’s very likely he already memorized the message. The pendant’s value to him was minimal at that point.” Ed shrugged with a trace of helplessness in his voice. Hearing this, Misha clenched her fist and slammed it against the carriage door, growling in frustration. “Damn it… I really thought we’d beaten them to it this time.” Seeing her reaction, Ed put the pendant away and calmly continued. “Once I return, I’ll immediately contact Duke Barrett’s old collaborator to start decrypting the text. Let’s hope we’re not too far behind the Eight-Spired Nest in pursuing Ampere’s secrets.” Hearing this, Misha could only take a deep breath to steady herself. She leaned back in her seat, closed her eyes, and began to rest. Ed watched her in silence for a few seconds, then spoke again. “Still… to go this far in fighting the Eight-Spired Nest—was it really worth it, Miss Misha?” “How far?” Misha opened her eyes slightly and asked. Ed continued. “You’ve separated yourself from your family, hidden things from your superiors, left your organization, and chosen to drift alone. What kind of grudge do you have against the Eight-Spired Nest that makes you go to such extremes? Couldn’t you just lie low—stop being a thorn in their side, turn a blind eye to their schemes in the Serenity Bureau and in Tivian? Let’s face it—with their level of influence, if something truly catastrophic happens, no one will blame you. You’re not in a position high enough to be held responsible. Aren’t you afraid you’ll throw your life away for nothing?” Ed’s tone was solemn. His meaning was clear: within both the Serenity Bureau and the entire Pritt Kingdom, Misha was the only one still quietly resisting the Eight-Spired Nest. It went far beyond her official duties and could easily cost her life. The Nest had infiltrated everywhere—if even her superiors couldn’t fulfill their responsibilities, what could a mere White Ash-rank knight like her do? If she chose to let things play out, no one would blame her, no matter the outcome. But Misha just sneered and answered without hesitation. “I’m a Royal Knight. I swore long ago to give everything I have to defend Despenser and Pritt. No matter when or where—when traitors and villains threaten this nation—I will never stand by and do nothing. “‘Pritt above all. Our loyalty is the foundation of its greatness.’ That’s the Devonshire family creed. It’s the code that our ancestor Ampere himself set down. I was raised hearing it every day. I haven’t forgotten it.” After she spoke, Misha closed her eyes again to resume resting. Through Ed’s perspective, Dorothy looked at her and couldn’t help but reflect internally. “Loyalty and country, huh? But… your ancestor Ampere was the biggest traitor in the entire Old Faith faction during the Wind King’s Rebellion…” With that thought, Dorothy chose not to say anything further to Misha. She had Ed cross his legs in the carriage and pulled out a newspaper to read. When the paper unfolded, the first thing that caught the eye was a large black-and-white photograph. It showed a smiling young nun in a half-body portrait. Beside the photo, a bold headline read: Original content can be found at NoveI[F]ire.net “Renowned Holy Relic Bearer Sister Vania Chafferon, after completing a pilgrimage across multiple cities, has finally returned to her hometown of Tivian. At the eastern port district, she was welcomed with great celebration…”