Now there was a blood-soaked Chomping Cabbage inside Moen's abdominal cavity.
Its presence delayed the death that was already waiting for him.
With his entire stomach gone and half his liver missing, the first danger Moen faced was internal bleeding.
The good news was that the Chomping Cabbage had found the bleeding points and clogged them. The bad news was that this also meant Moen's blood was being slowly siphoned away by it.
But whether it was good news or bad, Moen had no idea. All he knew was that he had to assassinate the Third Senator he respected most, with no room to turn back, because Leonard's orders were absolute: "Do whatever it takes to get close," and "Assassinate him with everything you've got."
Those two ironclad commands erased any possibility of maneuvering.
Even so, Moen couldn't help wondering what the boy controlling him was really planning.
Kill the Senator with this dagger, with only a trace of poison on it?
What a joke. That amount wouldn't even make the Senator feel slightly unwell.
So how was the boy supposed to save Delacour?
Even as Moen's body and thoughts strained toward killing the Senator, his subconscious still kept circling the question of how the boy could possibly rescue anyone.
He imagined countless possibilities. Maybe the boy would follow behind him and ambush from the shadows. Maybe he'd create a diversion and strike elsewhere.
He never once suspected the thing inside his stomach. He simply assumed it was the boy's final method for silencing him.
But making him attempt an assassination while also planning to eliminate him afterward?
Moen thought the kid was hopelessly naive. With the Senator's level of vigilance, there was no way Moen could succeed.
With those chaotic thoughts churning, Moen sprinted toward the ambush site Daniel and the others had set up earlier. As he ran, he kept feeling something strange in his abdomen, almost like he'd eaten too much.
He didn't question it. He assumed the "silencing" was taking effect.
The ambush point was just ahead.
Moen let out a breath, then ran forward without hesitation.
...
"Mr. Delacour," Cappadocia said, looking at Lehende with patient sincerity, "Raven has always regarded itself as the last line of defense for wizards. Everything we do is grounded in evidence."
"Our methods may be a little extreme," he continued, "but our ideals and ambitions are entirely without selfish motives."
His tone and expression were perfectly friendly. The way he spoke with Lehende was like an elder in a café calmly explaining the world to a younger man.
If you ignored the wand that hadn't moved an inch from Lehende's throat.
At that angle and distance, Cappadocia needed only the slightest bit of magic to tear Lehende's throat open.
Being forced to talk with a wand pressed to his neck made Lehende furious. Clearly, he hadn't taken a single word of Cappadocia's manufactured warmth to heart.
"If you really are the protective organization you claim to be, you should have sent a formal invitation," Lehende said, voice calm but cutting. "Instead, you lured me to a foreign country with false information, then tried to force me to join by kidnapping me."
"Honestly, we didn't dare make a spectacle of hunting you down in France, Mr. Delacour." Cappadocia smiled. "As a man, you didn't inherit a Veela's looks, but you did inherit a Veela's natural affinity. And you don't have a Veela's foul temper, either. Someone like you… even we have no idea how many friends you've made in France."
He chuckled softly. "It's not that we fear your friends. It's that our ideals are not something others can take on. The truths we hold would drive too many people mad. For the sake of wizards everywhere, it's better they don't learn about us."
"Hah. That's just sophistry," Lehende said with contempt.
"I understand. No matter what I say, you won't believe it. In fact, you weren't listening at all." Cappadocia's smile didn't change. "But it doesn't matter. Once my people bring your daughter here, you'll behave."
He flicked his wand. Lehende's clothes instantly transformed into tough metal, binding him tight. Because the restraints were external objects, they also interfered with Lehende's ability to transform.
The close-fitting metal was like a cage locked around him. If Lehende tried to force a transformation, Cappadocia would notice immediately.
A single, simple Transfiguration was enough to strip Lehende of any ability to resist.
Suddenly, Cappadocia lifted his head and looked past Lehende. His bloodline-gifted hearing had caught urgent footsteps closing in.
A moment later, Moen burst out of the forest and rushed up to him.
"Senator," Moen panted, face tense with urgency. "A group appeared in the forest out of nowhere. They took the Delacour girl, and they also took Rayel and Daniel."
"What?" Cappadocia's face shifted. He hadn't expected a flaw in what should have been a foolproof operation. "Who were they?"
As he spoke, he extended his hand. A raven appeared in his palm with a harsh caw.
"Go," Cappadocia said softly.
The raven spread its wings. A flurry of black feathers burst into the air.
Each feather transformed into a raven, and they shot off in every direction, searching the forest for anything suspicious.
Watching the ravens whirl away, a surge of excitement flared in what remained of Moen's consciousness. If the ravens found the enemy, they would return quickly with information. The evil little monster hiding in the woods would have nowhere left to run.
Even if they managed to kill the ravens, the Senator would sense their deaths and lock onto their location.
They couldn't escape.
Even if… even if Moen tried to assassinate the Senator, they still wouldn't get away.
"Oh, right—Senator," Moen added, still pushing forward with the assassination. "They left this behind. It seems connected to who they are."
He hurried closer, as if to show him something he'd been carrying. Cappadocia was about to reach out and take it, but his eyes swept over Moen's—and something felt wrong.
"Stop," Cappadocia ordered.
But Moen, controlled by the Imperius Curse, couldn't stop. Not only did he not halt, he suddenly sped up. His legs swelled slightly, and in an instant he was right in front of Cappadocia.
The dagger slid from his sleeve. With a complicated expression on his face, Moen drove it toward Cappadocia's abdomen.
Given the difference in their heights, it was the easiest place to hit.