"But he's someone who always hides in the shadows—and he's on Eryx's side. How are we supposed to contact him? And who do we send?" Elias frowned, his tone laced with both concern and a subtle flicker of anticipation.
Livia leaned lightly against the table, her fingers tapping a slow rhythm across its surface. Her narrowed gaze gleamed with a cunning sort of certainty.
"You, of course."
"Me?" Elias blinked, momentarily caught off guard.
"Exactly." Livia nodded, a faint smile curling her lips—one that carried the lingering warmth of old memories.
"He's the king of the underworld. Those back alleys we ignore, the slums, the smuggling tunnels—even the pigeon lofts—could all be his eyes. All you need is to find a few familiar faces from the black market and pass on a message—straightforward, even blunt. He's not the kind to sit still. The moment you leave an opening, he'll be too eager to resist jumping in."
She paused, eyes momentarily distant, a flicker of reminiscence flashing through them.
When I first met him, he was exactly like that—set a trap that looks crude, and he'll walk in just to prove he can disarm it. All the more so now, since this time… the trap is mine.
"And how do you plan to bait him?" Elias was already shifting into operational mode, mentally mapping out routes for information flow and the fastest methods to spread a rumor.
Livia turned to gaze out the window. Night had fully draped the sky above the castle.
"Spread a message around the governor's manor. Make it sound like I stumbled upon an old treasure map, and that I'm planning to gather a small team within three days to excavate some relic at an abandoned temple near the southeastern border. Keep the wording clumsy, even a little ridiculous—the faker, the better."
She turned back and met Elias's gaze with a knowing smile.
"If he hears something like that, he'll know it's fake. But that's exactly what will make him suspect I planted it—and he'll have to come investigate. The smarter he is, the harder it'll be to resist."
Elias studied her for a moment, as if weighing how many secrets lay buried between her and Jim. But in the end, he didn't pry. He simply nodded slowly.
"Got it. I know how to proceed."
Livia exhaled silently in relief. Once Elias accepted a plan, his execution was near flawless.
Marcellus, who had remained silent all along, sat off to the side with clenched fists so tight his knuckles had turned white. At last, he lowered his head, voice hoarse.
"It's all my fault… I'm still injured…"
His remorse was raw and heavy, as if he were caught in a whirlpool of guilt too thick to escape.
Livia walked over and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Don't do that. This isn't your fault, and it's not your burden to bear. You've already done everything you needed to. Leave the rest to us."
Her hand was cool to the touch, but carried a grounded strength. She didn't waste breath on hollow comforts like "just rest"—instead, her steady presence told him "trust me" in a language deeper than words.
Marcellus didn't speak again. He just nodded faintly and forced a pained smile.
Livia withdrew her hand and turned back to Elias, her tone once again crisp and clear.
"As for who goes… this mission can't be loud. It has to be someone I trust completely. And right now, the most suitable are—my brother Adrian… and my maid."
Elias raised an eyebrow, surprised.
"Her?"
"She's no ordinary maid," Livia replied evenly.
"She's been sharp, quiet, and extraordinarily patient ever since I took her in. More than that—her loyalty to me doesn't come from dependence, but from clear-headed trust."
She looked toward the doorway, as if seeing two figures already poised, silently preparing for the road ahead.
"And Adrian…" she paused briefly,
"When he approached that fragment of the Holy Grail before, it reacted to him. We don't know why, but there's no doubt—whatever the Grail is, it recognizes him. If anyone's meant to walk this path, it's him."
For a moment, the room fell still. Everyone seemed to realize that this wasn't just another probe—this was the beginning of something deeper. The veil over the Holy Grail was finally about to be lifted.
Outside, the wind stirred, and from a distant tower, the soft chime of a bell echoed faintly—marking the first note in the countdown.