Bzzz. Bzz. Bzzz.
The incessant buzz of flies filled the room, as they flew leisurely around the corpse.
Seeing her husband in such a state made Patricia's stomach turn, and she vomited while tears streamed down her face.
Eugh! Eugh! Eugh!
Hargreaves scanned the room carefully, suspicion evident in his voice.
"Lady Patricia… you said your husband hasn't left his room for weeks. Why didn't you confront him?"
Patricia, trembling and still weak from vomiting near the door, slowly straightened herself. Her eyes widened as she spoke.
"Sir… ever since Lacey disappeared, he locked himself in that room. He used to leave occasionally to eat, but after you dropped the news… he stopped. But I do give the maids food to give him."
Hargreaves nodded solemnly and glanced at Lumian, who suddenly clutched his head in pain.
"Lumian, what's wrong?" Vincent asked.
Lumian clutched his head, as his vision became blurry. He was swaying around as though he was about to fall.
Summoning his focus, he brought the pressure up to his head and activated his mystic eyes.
The room pulsed with dark energy, its presence almost suffocating. As a diviner who draws spirituality from the environment, he could feel the malevolence seeping into him.
Vincent, recognizing the intensity, moved quickly and opened the windows wider, letting in the fresh morning air to dilute the oppressive atmosphere.
...
Lumian gradually regained his balance, though his Mystic Eyes were still active as he scanned the surroundings.
After a moment, he lowered the pressure in his head and spoke calmly. "Captain… Duke Joshua has been dead for two days."
Hargreaves raised an eyebrow but gave a slow nod before turning toward Patricia.
"But Lady Patricia… I thought you had police constantly guarding the estate?"
"Of course we do," Patricia replied quickly. "They're always on constant patrol."
Hargreaves nodded thoughtfully and began surveying the room again.
His gaze slowly moved across the floor.
Several plates of untouched food lay scattered nearby.
Then his eyes shifted toward the wall. There, faint but unmistakable, was a bloody handprint.
The words written beside it were uneven and desperate.
"Help me."
...
Lumian was momentarily frozen in shock, his mind unable to form a clear possibility.
Hargreaves sighed quietly and took out a cigar, lighting it with practiced calmness.
He glanced at Patricia but chose not to question her further. The woman had already lost her son… and now her husband.
Turning to Vincent, he said, "Vincent, return to Lamenti. Go to the mortuary camp and bring back a graveyarder."
Vincent nodded immediately and hurried out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the stairs before fading away.
Silence returned. Lumian and Hargreaves both turned their gaze back to the corpse.
Hargreaves stepped forward and began searching the room carefully. He checked the wardrobe, looked beneath the bed, and inspected several corners of the chamber.
When he finished, he walked back to the body and put on a pair of gloves before examining the corpse closely.
"There don't seem to be any external injuries," he muttered thoughtfully. "Could the food have been poisoned?"
Lumian glanced at Patricia and subtly raised the pressure in his head again.
Through his mystic perception, he saw her figure glowing faintly purple.
He lowered the pressure and thought inwardly,
Why is she still afraid of us?
Watching how calm and methodical his captain remained, Lumian finally regained his ability to think clearly.
She said that ever since Lacey disappeared, the Duke locked himself in the room but still came out occasionally…
But when we delivered the news of Lacey's death… he stopped coming out completely.
And now we know he died two days ago.
Lumian let out a thoughtful sigh as he bit on his thump.
But why does the day he stopped leaving the room match the day Lacey died?
The coincidence was simply too perfect!
...
Lumian rubbed his chin thoughtfully and remained silent for a moment before arriving at a possible explanation.
The Obstaque Order…
Although he didn't know much about the organization, he knew one thing—they were also searching for St. Mary's Text.
And the spy we captured earlier…
If that spy had reported back to the Order, then they would have known that Lacey possessed the text.
Lumian's eyes narrowed slightly.
So they used the Duke.
Joshua could have been used as a medium, allowing them to observe whether Lacey would return home.
But then another thought surfaced.
After we came here and informed them about Lacey's death…
If the Obstaque Order had been monitoring the Duke, then once they realized Lacey was already dead, Joshua would have become completely useless.
Lumian exhaled slowly. And disposable things are often eliminated.
His gaze drifted back to the rotting corpse. Still… this was only a guess.
...
Pa. Pa. Pa.
Suddenly, the head of Joshua fell from the chair, rolling slowly toward Patricia. Its wide-open eyes stared directly at her, mouth frozen in a silent scream. Patricia screamed, doubled over, and vomited again, tears streaming down her face.
Eugh! Eugh! Eugh!
Lumian's gaze shifted toward her. He reached into his coat and brought out a purple pendant, lightly touching the gem.
He turned to Hargreaves, calm yet serious. "Captain… do you remember that spy we found in the faculty?"
Hargreaves nodded.
Lumian continued, "I suspect he was sent by an order also searching for St. Mary's Text. That would explain how they knew Lacey had it."
Hargreaves frowned slightly. "What makes you sure? Even if you divined it, why do you think the organization wants the text?"
Lumian rubbed the pendant and replied, "This is just a guess, but it seems… too coincidental. The divination showed he knows about the Witches Garden, and the spy spent time in the faculty. He must have been gathering information about the text."
Hargreaves nodded slowly. "That sounds correct," he said after a moment. Then he leaned forward, voice calm but probing:
"So… what are you going to do now?"
Lumian held the pendant tight. "I'm going to perform a divination."
...
Hargreaves nodded slowly, as Lumian raised the pendant and focused intently.
A sudden gust of wind swept through the room.
Whoosh!
The curtains fluttered wildly, letting the crimson sunlight pierce the dim interior for a brief, haunting moment. Faint blue particles swirled around Lumian like drifting embers.
His eyelids forced shut by an unseen force, and visions began to flash before him—memories of what had transpired in the room.
This was a rare branch of mysticism he had learned from Mrs. Hathway, who was scheduled to return to Montmartre Heights four days from now.
Lumian exhaled sharply as the visions subsided. Slowly, he opened his eyes, which felt as though they had been glued shut.
"Captain... someone was with the Duke."
...
"What do you mean by that?" Hargreaves asked.
Lumian shook his head slightly. "Captain, it's not exactly that someone was physically with the Duke."
He paused for a moment before explaining. "With my abilities as a Diviner, I draw spirituality from the environment. By reading the spiritual patterns in this room, I discovered something unusual."
Hargreaves waited patiently.
"There were two people inside the Duke," Lumian said quietly.
"That explains the evil energy filling the room."
Hargreaves nodded slowly, his expression turning thoughtful. "That would also explain the bloody handprint," he said. "He must have been fighting against whoever was controlling him. And whenever he briefly regained control… he tried to write a message asking for help."
Lumian nodded and slipped the purple pendant back into his coat.
Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor.
Moments later, Vincent appeared at the doorway, accompanied by a graveyarder.
...
The graveyarder, a man with short black hair and a thin moustache, crouched near the body and slowly raised his gaze.
"This is our Duke. Forty-five years old. Died two days ago, preserved by disinfectant."
Lumian inwardly noted the detail: before Duke Joshua died, the possessor of the body had sprayed disinfectant using the body of the Duke.
The graveyarder thought for a moment, then gently touched the Duke's neck before standing. "So… what actually happened here?" he asked.
Hargreaves quickly explained everything they had discovered so far: the corpse, the bloodied handprint, the 'Help me' message, and the spiritual energy Lumian had sensed.
The graveyarder rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "So… since you're sorcerers, are you planning to report this? Or take it to your faculty or the Church?"
Hargreaves shook his head. "The police," he said firmly. "This is our Duke, and the information must be spread officially."
The graveyarder nodded, then calmly approached Patricia. Using gloves, he picked up the head and placed it on the atlas of the body. He pressed a single finger to its temple, and in an instant, the corpse disappeared.
Lumian and Hargreaves spent the next few minutes questioning Patricia, the maids, and the guards—but nothing useful came of it.
Tired, they returned to the Faculty.
...
Before leaving, Lumian tried to divine the location of the perpetrator—but the trail was gone, sealed off.
Too cautious… far too cautious!
He walked into his office and closed the door behind him. Downstairs, the autopsy continued quietly on the Duke's body.
Lumian sat down, rubbing his face as he leaned back in the chair, letting out a long, tired sigh.
So it must be the Obstaque Order that caused this… but why do they want the St. Mary Text
He released his hands and continued, thinking aloud. No... Why am I asking that. The Book of Revelation, according to Derrick, contains prophecies, information about gods, advanced mysticism knowledge, and the true nature of mystical beings. Which organization wouldn't want that? I can't believe we allowed it to be stolen so easily.
He sighed again, checking his watch: four in the afternoon.
Lumian leaned back, rubbing his chin. Mr. Revenger said that during the Steampunk Age, a secret organization formed and allied with the Church of the Pale Moon Goddess. That means members of the Obstaque Order could also be embedded in the Church!
He shook his head slightly. And the Pale Moon Goddess herself attempted to communicate with me… yet I ignored the reason, only divining whether any divine presence threatened my life. But that divination was rather useful, as I came to understand she wanted to communicate with me.
Lumian placed a hand under his desk, and opened his drawer, pulling out a deck of tarot cards, as he quickly spread them across the table, preparing for the next divination.
...
Lumian quickly recalled the last time he had ventured into the spiritual world, and now he prepared to enter it again.
He remembered the fear he had felt the last time he drank a potion—fear that had forced him into the spirit realm unintentionally.
Visiting the spiritual medium requires a divine catalyst, he realized. The potion worked last time… but now, the medium will be the tarot.
As a Diviner, he knew he possessed the ability to perceive what ordinary human eyes could not. This gave him confidence.
He breathed slowly, forcing his body to shiver deliberately, recalling the most terrifying memory of his first spiritual visit: which was countless seen eyes watching him from the darkness.
Goosebumps rose across his skin. Lumian raised his spiritual pressure and activated his mystic eyes.
Immediately, white silhouettes drifted around him, running as though chasing one another.
He closed his eyes and focused on his fear, embracing it fully. Five agonizing minutes passed as he maintained his concentration, heart racing, until finally…
His spirit crossed the spiritual barrier.
...
As Lumian's spirit arrived in the darkness, he looked around.
The spiritual world was different from his last visit. Lines of orange, red, and green light glowed faintly, tracing strange shapes across the darkness.
Immediately, He sensed invisible gazes on him. Instinctively, he scanned the space—but found nothing.
Ah… the eyes… he realized. Last time I was my first encounter with the spiritual; that's why I saw them visually. But now they are invisible to me because they don't have any business with me.
Also, the spiritual world has become colorful because I've become a sorcerer.
He sighed. In the real world, his lips twitched as he began reciting an incantation.
In an instant, the spiritual world brightened, glowing in response to his words. Lumian exhaled and continued the chant. Though most of it was unintelligible, one fragment could be made out:
"Lady of the Moon, I have come…"
He focused, silently asking what the Pale Moon Goddess wanted.
In the real world, his hand moved, drawing three cards from the deck, spread across the table with his eyes closed.
The invisible gazes pressed closer, making his heart race. Sensing danger, Lumian pulled back abruptly, withdrawing from the spiritual world.
He panted heavily, staring at the three cards before him.
The High Priestess.
The Page of Swords.
The Ace of Swords.
His eyes widened slightly, as he said softly. "What... the Pale Moon Goddess… also wants the St. Mary Text?"