39
Audrey hurried into the dining room and saw her father talking to a cabinet secretary and several gentlemen. She put on an impeccable smile, walked over, took Earl Hall's arm, and said to the others, "Gentlemen, may I borrow Earl Hall for a few minutes?"
She had expected the gentlemen to respond immediately, but to her surprise, every man apart from her father, Earl Hall, cast an almost imperceptible glance at one particular person.
Only then did Audrey notice the gentleman, and she could not suppress a small gasp-he was actually wearing a worn light gray wool trench coat! Good heavens, this was Duke Negan's banquet! That alone was highly inappropriate, but even more surprisingly, his attire could only be called plain, or perhaps poor: his blue-gray cravat had been washed until it was faded, and his waistcoat looked as though he had worn it for years. Audrey even noticed dirt and dust clinging to the soles of his high lace-up leather boots.
Someone dressed like that belonged on the street, in a factory, a shop, a park, or anywhere else-but certainly not at a great nobleman's banquet!
"Of course. That is your right, lovely young lady."
The gentleman smiled amiably. His dark gray hair was somewhat untidy, and he was very young, looking no older than his twenties. His eyes were an extremely pale brown, almost light gold beneath the bright crystal chandeliers.
A young gentleman who could attend a duke's ball despite his inappropriate attire, and even the cabinet secretary seemed to seek his approval... There was no nobleman like that in Loen. A foreigner? His height suggested he was one of the Feysac people. He seemed to command respect, yet everyone else's unconscious expressions betrayed impatience...
The young Spectator's curiosity was piqued, but she restrained herself. She knew there was something more important to deal with right now.
Audrey led Earl Hall into a secluded corner and told her father, who had grown stout in middle age, "Papa, there's something I need to tell you."
Earl Hall had been smiling indulgently, but seeing his daughter's earnest expression, he grew serious as well. "What is it?"
"I just met Baron Gramir..." Audrey described the differences she had observed, which could be explained by keen perception and attentiveness. She listed the problems in detail, outlining every suspicious point in concise terms, then placed particular emphasis on how he seemed to be using perfume to conceal a faint smell of blood. When she had finished, she weighed her words and added:
"I heard that Vice Admiral Hurricane, Qilingus, can change his appearance to look like someone else. Isn't he in Backlund lately?"
Earl Hall listened quietly, his expression turning exceptionally grave. However, he soon smiled and soothed his slightly flustered daughter. He realized there might be an imminent crisis, but he could not alert everyone without putting the suspect on his guard, so he sent his daughter to the lounge.
On her way to the lounge, Audrey glanced back and saw Earl Hall speaking in a low voice to another nobleman, his expression quite serious.
Feeling deeply helpless, Audrey grew uneasy again. She thought she ought to do something, so she found the small prayer room in Duke Negan's residence, locked the door, and recited the Fool's honorific name in a corner.
40
"...Security is already in position, and the duke has been informed. If that really is Qilingus, we will do our best to kill him on the spot."
The middle-aged nobleman regarded Earl Hall solemnly. "Baron Gramir is currently enjoying the food. He previously spent two days resting at home on the grounds of ill health and declined invitations to other banquets, but he still came today. He does indeed look unwell, which is consistent with his explanation. There is nothing unusual at present, so all we can do is strengthen security."
"What if he really is Qilingus?" Earl Hall frowned deeply. "Perhaps, for some reason, he truly is unable to accomplish his objective tonight. If he does nothing, are we simply going to let him leave?"
"My lord, Baron Gramir is a nobleman of the kingdom, whatever else he may be. We cannot test him without any grounds."
The middle-aged nobleman was about to continue when his secretary approached and whispered a few words in his ear. His eyes widened slightly, and he immediately told Earl Hall, "Baron Gramir has just asked the duke's permission to leave. He is unwell and still needs rest. The duke has agreed, and a carriage will be arranged within ten minutes to escort him back to his residence. My lord, it seems your fears are unlikely to come true tonight."
"That is a good thing... I hope I have merely been overthinking things."
Naturally, it would be best if nothing happened, but recalling how unusually earnest his daughter had been tonight, Earl Hall still felt uneasy. After parting with the middle-aged nobleman for the time being, he found himself restless, his gaze wandering. Suddenly, he noticed the gentleman sitting on a chair beside the dining room wall, quietly leafing through a book now that his negotiations were finished.
"Mr. Ernst." He walked briskly over and addressed the young gentleman. "Something has happened that might interest you: I have received word that someone suspected of being Qilingus has appeared at the ball."
Mr. Ernst's gaze abruptly turned dangerous.
"...My lord, thank you for coming to tell me personally." He rose, suddenly displaying a sharpness he had never shown before. "May I ask whether the source is reliable, and whether the information has been verified?"
"Neither has been established yet. The suspect is a baron of the kingdom, and we have no authority to act against him arbitrarily," Earl Hall answered without a change in expression.
"That is precisely why I hope to obtain your help. We cannot distinguish changes caused by Beyonder abilities, nor can we act rashly, but you may be able to uncover something. If he is truly Baron Gramir, I hope to see him unharmed. If he is Qilingus, I hope you can kill or subdue him. His bounty and my reward to you will be very generous, which is exactly what you need, Mr. Richard Ernst."
"You are most kind, my lord," Richard replied amiably. "Even setting aside the bounty, I would act on this information—because I have several blood debts to settle with this Admiral of the Pirates."
41
The carriage the duke's household used to transport guests was exquisitely crafted, its cushioned seat broad enough for a person to lie across. The interior was lavishly decorated, with gold and silver carvings climbing like vines from the door panels on both sides to the roof. Gemstones reflected the candlelight, lending it an indescribable air of nobility.
Smelling the incense inside the carriage as he settled onto the cushions, Qilingus finally relaxed a little. He drew aside the silk curtain over the window and saw the carriage moving steadily, passing through the first wrought-iron gate at a moderate pace. He had already left the residence and entered the outer gardens. In another ten minutes, he would be clear of the duke's estate and out on the streets of Backlund. Once he disappeared into this city of more than five million people, no one would be able to find him!
Qilingus relaxed somewhat, both in his movements and his mood, and his fingers were no longer tightly clenched together. He glanced at the quietly burning candle, and his pupils instantly contracted. Suddenly, he had the sense that the flame would leap up and burst, reducing the entire carriage and him to ashes in an instant!
Without a moment's thought, he immediately raised his hand and extinguished the candle.
The Rose School! The seasoned, cunning Admiral of the Pirates recognized it a second later. Using surrounding objects to kill an opponent was precisely how powerful Beyonders of the Prisoner Pathway operated! Someone was testing me—how could that be? When was my disguise seen through?! No, impossible. A Faceless's disguise was flawless. Perhaps Duke Negan had merely caught wind of something and was screening the banquet guests.
Fortunately, my reaction in putting out the candle was still within the bounds of an ordinary person's behavior. I hadn't given myself away... I should act more frightened...
In the darkness, Qilingus's mind worked rapidly. The face belonging to Baron Gramir quickly assumed an expression of panic appropriate to his identity and character. He scrambled to his feet, panting heavily in apparent shock. The premonition of death descended once again. The instant Qilingus's hand touched the carriage's inner wall, a vision suddenly arose in his mind: the mahogany door would explode, glass shards would fly everywhere, and sharp pieces of wood would pierce his eyes and enter his brain, leaving him to bleed to death on the spot!
"Ah!" Baron Gramir screamed in terror, tumbling about inside the carriage, loudly pounding on its walls and calling for help. Yet the driver and horses seemed utterly unaware.
As though realizing no one would notice his peril, he clutched his head and curled up in a corner of the carriage, tears and cold sweat mingling on his face. After several minutes, the terror everything around him inspired silently dissipated. The table was still a table, and the candle was still a candle. The sense that they might take his life at any moment was gone.
Had they left...? Baron Gramir was still sobbing in panic, but Qilingus remained expressionless throughout. He did not act rashly, intending to wait a little longer before slowly getting up, thoroughly playing the part of an ordinary person and leaving nothing suspicious.-Just then, he suddenly smelled blood.
Right beside him.
He froze. For a moment, Baron Gramir even forgot to act frightened, because the smell of blood was incredibly familiar. It came from his left hand.
-This time, the powerful Beyonder from the Rose School had not tested him by exerting pressure on the surrounding objects. Instead, they had directly affected his hand, his left hand, and the Creeping Hunger he wore on it!
A glove that fed on humans naturally had no loyalty to speak of! Faced with a higher-level threat, the Mystical Item bared its fangs at its current master without hesitation. It shed its human-skin appearance to reveal its true form. The black glove opened an enormous maw utterly disproportionate to its size, and the threat of death loomed before Qilingus like a towering wall shoved straight into his path!
I've been exposed! He instantly abandoned his Faceless state, only to be met by the thin silk carriage curtain coiling toward him. As nimble as a limb, it wrapped around Qilingus's left arm with enough force to overturn a carriage in an instant. The Admiral of the Pirates immediately felt that the arm was about to be torn from him forever.
Yet he did not panic. The threat of death only made him search more calmly for a way to survive. He used Grazing on a soul of the Sun Pathway and spread his arms to embrace the sky. A golden pillar of light instantly burned through the carriage roof, reducing the curtain to ashes. Seizing the opportunity, he leaped out, borne by the wind, then snapped the neck of the driver, who had looked up at him in alarm, and stuffed him into Creeping Hunger. Only then was the bloodthirsty Mystical Item temporarily satisfied, sparing its master from being devoured.
He continued gliding through the air, covering a considerable distance at astonishing speed, heading for a nearby water channel. He had done his preparations and knew it led to an underground river, its waterways interwoven into a dense network-an unquestionable escape route. Even a powerful Beyonder of the Rose School could not interfere precisely without pinpointing his location!
An explosion rang out behind him, followed by a devastating blow to Qilingus's back. A heavy carriage wheel, wrapped in several layers of sheet iron and studded with metal ornaments, had defied all reason and flown several meters into the air. The object weighed dozens of pounds, and it struck Qilingus squarely in the spine!
The Admiral of the Pirates spat out a mouthful of blood and fell from the sky like a bird struck by an arrow, almost every bone in his upper body broken by the wheel.
But he was not dead yet. A Sailor's vitality was always tenacious. He struggled to dig his fingers into the ground and crawl forward, dragging a winding trail of blood behind him. The water channel was two meters away, then one-
Crack.
A leg clad in a black lace-up leather boot appeared in his field of vision. The Temperance Angel, Richard Ernst, looked down at the cornered pirate and casually crushed his right hand and wrist beneath his foot.
TBC
*Here's the thing: the author loves giving minor characters some time in the spotlight, so I wrote a little about the cunning, cruel Vice Admiral Hurricane, Qilingus, as I imagine him. Thank me!
*Then I accidentally wrote too much.
Before you continue