Despite the efforts of the Faceless Watchers to monitor every channel of knowledge and communication, the Central Realm was no longer a place of stability.
The reason was the revelation of the Dark Alchemist.
All of human history, at least the version that was taught, could be thought of as a veil. It was designed to transform its recipients into useful tools while concealing the truth of what was actually happening in the world.
But with the Dark Alchemist, there had finally been a chance to see beyond that veil.
Through him, it might have been possible to understand the inner workings of a world that had remained hidden for centuries. To uncover that truth, to reveal it to the people, and to create the foundation the Shadow Clan had long been seeking, this was the purpose for which the Hawk of the Shadows operated.
After all, those who had sent the Hawk, the ones who funded the deeper layers of the Shadow Clan, were not wanderers of the Eastern Forests, nor fugitives from the cities.
They were Lords.
They possessed the same status as the others, but lacked the wealth and influence of their peers. Because of this, they desired a restructuring of the existing order.
It was through them that the Hawk had obtained the image of a member of the Bloodlines Clan.
If he succeeded, if the truth were discovered, then the final act of the Shadow Clan would not be a war between wealthy Lords and the poor beneath them.
Instead, it would become an alliance.
The Lords would contribute their resources, and the masses would contribute their strength. The truth would be revealed to the people, and an alternative would be offered, one without debt, without slavery, and without the deprivation of ownership.
But uncovering that truth was the task given to the Hawk of the Shadows.
Now he stood at the most critical moment of the mission.
Everything depended on understanding what had happened to the Dark Alchemist.
Even among the Lords there were Clans, divisions, and guiding principles that remained hidden from the world. The Dark Alchemist had been the closest the Shadow Clan had come to uncovering the structure that governed them.
Their grand organizing force.
But now the Dark Alchemist was gone.
This had become a battle of information.
The Hawk had once again adopted the Self of another member of the Bloodlines Clan, one who appeared deeply distraught by the death of his friend.
"When did he die?" the Hawk asked, his voice trembling with grief.
A Faceless Soldier stood before him within a prison constructed by a Third Tier being. Its walls were indestructible. Only a Fourth Tier being or higher, someone capable of breaking the laws of reality, could escape from such a place.
"He died two hours, forty-eight minutes, and fifty-four seconds before sunrise that day."
"And when was his death discovered?"
"Exactly at sunrise, when we came to visit him."
"Very well," the Hawk said quietly, lowering his head as though exhausted. "And how did it happen? Did he take his own life?"
"This is the most likely possibility, according to our calculations."
The Hawk wept.
But he knew this was a lie.
Earlier he had infiltrated the investigation conducted by the Faceless Soldiers using another carefully crafted Self. It had been impossible to gain access to the Dark Alchemist's body, an unusual restriction for a case of such significance.
But more importantly, the investigation itself had classified the death as a murder.
Those details had been concealed even from many within the ranks of the Faceless Soldiers.
Maintaining a false identity among them was never possible for long, but before abandoning the infiltration the Hawk had gathered enough information to confirm the truth.
They were hiding the circumstances of the Dark Alchemist's death.
To understand what had truly happened, he would need to see the body himself.
And he would need to speak with those who had been close to the Dark Alchemist.
He would begin with the people he had seen at the gathering.
Speaking with the Enlightened Clan or the Transcendent Clan was impossible. Their secrecy was absolute, and they rarely shared information even among themselves.
This puzzled the Hawk. These groups existed in secrecy, yet they did little to hide their existence. In earlier generations, almost any citizen of a Clan or city could tell you about them.
Why had that knowledge once been public?
Were they seeking recognition?
Or was it something else?
Regardless, the Hawk now had only one path forward.
He would speak to the Bloodlines Clan.
Once more he assumed the Self he had created years earlier when he first met Lady Lilith. Although he had not attended the banquet, he had still managed to build a relationship with her—enough that she might reveal something.
Whether she truly trusted him was another matter entirely.
The Hawk assumed that every word she spoke would be a lie.
The truth would lie only in what she revealed unconsciously.
"What a tragedy," he said softly.
"Yes," she replied, "but it was largely inevitable."
"What do you mean?"
"You really didn't know, did you?"
"Please," he said, "tell me."
She paused, as if confirming something in her mind.
The Hawk understood what she had concluded: This fool knows nothing, and he isn't who he claims to be.
"It would be best for you to tell me," the Hawk said calmly.
His words had a purpose.
If she suspected he might be a Faceless investigator operating under a lesser disguise, it would create doubt. Although she was one of the Lords, the Lords were still bound by the Queen's Laws enacted in the beginning. A case of this severity meant that as they spoke, a Faceless Leader may be hiding somewhere, recording their conversation. This doubt would make her hesitate.
"Oh," she said lightly, "well, I must tell you the truth. He was a terrible person."
"Why do you say that?"
"Our group had heard stories about him. Terrible things. Perhaps it is better that he died."
"What kind of things?"
She examined him again. Then she smiled, a small, self-satisfied smile, and relaxed.
"Oh, I couldn't possibly say," she replied. "None of us truly knew what he was doing. There were rumors, myths perhaps. But it seems his secrets have died with him."
The moment she finished speaking, she smiled directly at him.
"How long had you known him?" the Hawk asked, his tone now carrying the faint edge of investigation.
"It's difficult to say. The lives we live… after the first five hundred years, you start to lose track, don't you? But you already know that."
"I heard he owned several manors in the Central Realm. Is that true?"
"Yes, that's correct."
"And where was he from?"
"I don't know. Nobody knew anything about his past. He never spoke about himself."
"Why not?"
"Well," she said with a small shrug, "that's obvious, isn't it? He was hiding something."
"Did you have a good relationship with him?"
"No."
"Why?"
"There was something about him that suggested he did not follow the same masters we follow."
"Thank you for speaking with me, Lady Lilith."
This would be the last time he could use this Self, and the last time he could speak to Lady Lilith without risking exposure. But he had obtained what he needed.
There was something she knew, something all the Lords knew, and none of them were willing to reveal it.
Now the Hawk had no choice; he had to see the body himself.