Wednesday morning.
Lamenti, Moonlight Watchers Faculty.
...
In the recreational room, the sharp sound of a cue striking a ball echoed as one rolled cleanly into a pocket.
Pa!
"Wow… nice shot," Lumian said, standing off to the side.
Vincent chuckled, resting the cue stick over his shoulder. "Heh, just practice."
"Practice?" Lumian repeated with a laugh. "With skills like that, I should be calling you a god."
He stepped forward, lowering his stance and aiming carefully.
Pa!
The red ball shot forward, clipping the five ball on the left. It bounced slightly—
—but nothing went in.
"Tsk. What a waste of time," Lumian muttered, straightening up.
Vincent smiled faintly and stepped in. He lined up his shot with practiced ease.
Pa!
Two balls scattered. One after another, they dropped cleanly into separate pockets.
Vincent placed the cue down casually and glanced at Lumian.
Lumian on the other hand, had his mouth twitched slightly, as he muttered inwardly. Praise the Vincent, praise the pool god! His face expression changed as he continued. At this point I may just end up losing some money... sigh.
...
Ten minutes later, the game had concluded, and Lumian had lost about three pounds. There it goes, part of my week salary gone, just like that.
Slightly depressed he stepped out as the game stood ten to two, and ran into Rosanne and Derrick, who were engaging themselves in idle discussion, near the stairs.
"Good morning, Lumian," Rosanne greeted.
Noticing his expression, she tilted her head, and added.
"Did something go wrong?"
Lumian forced a smile. "Nothing went wrong."
He paused, then snapped his fingers. "I was just thinking about my phase… the Magician phase."
Derrick with his neatly combed brown hair chuckled. "Boy... It's barely been two months, and you're already thinking about advancing."
Lumian laughed lightly. "It's not like that. I just want to understand the details."
Derrick looked at him and rubbed his chin. "Were you not supposed to ask Mrs. Hathway before she left?"
Lumian sighed softly and replied. "... No Mr. Derrick, I forgot."
He quickly looked up at his colleague and replied. "Surely the great Mr. Derrick should have ideas. Could you please enlighten me?"
Derrick frowned slightly, then shook his head. "Why do you always ask me things outside my order?"
He paused as a small smile tugged on his lips. "Funny enough… I don't know anything about it."
Lumian's mouth twitched as he quickly activated his Mystic Eyes.
Immediately white silhouettes drifted around him, as he focused on Derrick's burning colour.
No wonder, it's still blue... he must have only had good intentions towards me because of the cake. Lumian sighed and continued. Mr. Derrick is such a hard person to befriend.
He brought down the pressure as Rosanne leaned back slightly on the railing. "I've been Phase 9 for about a year and a half," she said. "From what I heard, the original creator of the Order actually took the wrong potion… and had to build their own path."
"Wait, so taking the wrong potion creates a whole new system?" Lumian interrupted.
Rosanne laughed. "Not exactly. It just means you're no longer following the main progression. You have to experiment—taking different potions and hoping they match your mind and body… until you finally reach Phase 1."
She smiled wryly. "That's when a new path is formed."
She let out a small sigh.
"That's why Phase 8 in the Dreamer path includes Escapist, which on his own is another Order... and it leans more into combat."
She scratched her cheek lightly. "...Which isn't really my strength."
Lumian stared at her, shocked. "You're not good at fighting?"
He stepped forward, suddenly acting it out.
"But I saw you against Lacey! You were like—"
He swung his arm.
"Bam!"
Then spun it.
"Kacha!"
He dodged an imaginary attack and threw a punch.
"Kishi!"
Rosanne burst out laughing and patted his shoulder.
"That was just adrenaline."
...
Hearing that, they both chuckled, even the non-chalant Derrick couldn't help it.
After that brief joke, Lumian stepped out into the crisp morning air, deciding to take a short stroll before returning to the faculty.
...
Mitchell Street.
Catherine sat in a white chair in the quiet garden along Mitchell Street, near the road that led out of Everise Street. A book rested in her lap as she read in silence. The soft chirping of birds filling the air.
She reached forward and picked up her cup, taking a slow, measured sip of coffee.
A soft click left her lips in satisfaction. Turning slightly, she glanced at her maid. "Gloria… tell me, what exactly do you put in this tea to make it taste so good?"
Gloria chuckled and stepped forward, gently pouring more into the cup.
"It's the same as always, Lady Catherine."
She withdrew the kettle, then added with a small smile,
"Though… I may have added a bit more sugar."
Catherine raised a brow, staring at the brown liquid.
I knew it, she thought.
"...My fitness instructor told me to avoid sugar," she murmured, glancing around briefly.
Then, with a small shrug—
"Well… he's not here."
She lifted the cup again and took another sip without hesitation.
Gloria smiled faintly, watching her. After a moment, she spoke carefully,
"Lady Catherine… I've been meaning to ask… when news of Duke Joshua's death reached the king—what did he say when those two guests arrived?"
...
Catherine knew her maid was both loyal and kind, so she answered without much hesitation.
Dressed in white trousers and a black shirt, she crossed her legs lightly.
"He just told me they were candidates for the Duke's position."
"I see… like parties?" Gloria asked, nodding slowly.
Catherine let out a small chuckle. "Yes, something like that."
She raised a finger, thinking for a moment before continuing, "Ah—right. He also mentioned the main election will begin next week."
"Next week?" Gloria blinked. "That's quite soon… though I suppose it makes sense, given the economic situation." She sighed. "And Betyl already leans heavily toward monarchy rule."
Catherine nodded, lifting her cup and finishing the tea in a single, unhurried sip.
Gloria quickly refilled it, then hesitated before asking, "Lady Catherine… I've been curious about this sorcery business. How do people even obtain such powers?"
Catherine glanced at her and smiled warmly. "If you're that interested, why not become a sorcerer yourself?"
Gloria laughed, shaking her head. "At my age? Hehe… my lady, don't tease me with such nonsense."
...
Catherine smiled and took a sip from her cup before speaking. "I took my first and second potions under a Phase 7," she said casually. "He's the one who told me all this."
She paused for a moment, as if recalling something, then continued,
"He mentioned that before this age, in the Age of Steampunk to be specific… when the crimson sun appeared, people from that era formed their own Orders from the ideas provided by St. Mary, and rose to great heights, gaining power."
Gloria listened quietly.
"After the crimson sun returned in our age," Catherine went on, "some people tried ritual methods… and ended up communicating with those who had already ascended."
"Is that so…?" Gloria asked, slightly intrigued.
Catherine gave a small shrug and chuckled. "I don't know~ I'm just repeating what he told me."
Gloria smiled and gently took the cup from her hands. "Alright, Lady Catherine. It's time to get going."
Catherine let out a soft sigh as she stood.
"So soon…?"
"Well, I wouldn't want your father getting angry at me," Gloria replied, already walking ahead at a brisk pace. "If you don't keep up, I'll leave you behind."
Catherine's mouth twitched before she hurried after her.
"Hey—wait up!"
...
Hatcliff Street, along the streets.
By mid morning, Lumian walked along the quiet road, moving from one spot to another as his gaze swept the surroundings, hoping to catch even a glimpse of Mrs. Theresa's husband.
After a while, he sat down on a nearby bench, exhaling softly. But it didn't take long before he stood up again and resumed his search.
As he passed a house on his right, he noticed a woman standing nearby, dressed in a black coat and wearing glasses.
Good thing I didn't wear my usual coat today, he thought.
He approached her and tapped lightly to get her attention.
The woman turned.
Lumian quickly pulled the portrait from his pocket.
"Excuse me, ma'am," he said politely. "Sorry to bother you this early, but… do you happen to recognize this person?"
...
The woman studied Lumian for a moment, a cup of coffee in her hand, before letting out a small chuckle.
"For a second there, I thought you were about to ask for my number."
Lumian laughed lightly. "No… I'm just looking for someone."
This is why I'll always remain a virgin. What a missed opportunity, he added inwardly.
She took a sip of her coffee and glanced at the portrait.
"This man…" she murmured. "I feel like I've seen him before."
Lumian raised his brows slightly. "Where exactly?"
She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she turned fully to him and asked,
"Wait—who is he to you?"
Lumian scratched the back of his head, already piecing together an excuse.
"He's my… long-lost cousin," he said with a casual smile. "We didn't really let him go out much, so he ended up running away some time ago."
The woman stared at him, clearly unconvinced.
Still, she didn't press further. She simply turned and pointed down the road.
"Over there. He passes that road almost every morning."
Lumian smiled, slipping the portrait back into his pocket.
"Thank you. I really appreciate it."
"No problem."
She pulled out her phone as she walked off.
...
Lumian wandered around the area but found no sign of the missing man. After a while, he decided to head back to the faculty.
Lamenti, Moonlight Watchers Faculty.
...
Instead of going straight to his office, Lumian lingered in the recreational room. He counted the cash in his pocket: 20 pounds and three coins. Satisfied, he picked up his phone and called Vincent, even summoning one of the wealthier unofficial members. He was determined to reclaim his lost money.
A few minutes later, they arrived and began setting up the balls. Each of them hesitated, unsure who should go first. In the end, Lumian stepped up, lined up his cue, and took his shot.
Pa!
The orange ball struck the red, rebounded, and knocked a green ball into a pocket.
"Woah… looks like you've been practicing," Vincent said with a chuckle as he lined up his shot.
Before he could strike, a soft knock came at the door. Vincent paused and turned to see who it was.
After a moment, Hargreaves stepped inside, surveying the scene with a small smile. "You boys seem to be having fun, heh."
He glanced around for a moment, then turned to Lumian. "Looks like you'll have to wait a little longer."
He stepped closer and added, "Lumian, remember the Kelly file we were looking for? I finally received it from the station captain."
...
Lumian dropped his cue and quickly asked, "So, Captain… what did you find?"
Hargreaves didn't answer right away. Instead, he pulled out a file and placed it on the pool table.
Lumian leaned in slightly.
"Look at this," Hargreaves said calmly. "Kelly Arvier. 27 years old. Left the Duke's house a month ago. Citizen of Betyl."
Lumian nodded slowly. "But Captain… these are just basic details. How would we know if she's connected to the Witches' Garden?"
Hargreaves nodded, flipping through the file. He stopped at a photograph of a young woman with brown hair tied back. His gaze remained steady.
"Memorize this face carefully," Hargreaves said, his tone low but firm. "The station captain mentioned that this girl... she died before she even left the mansion."
...
Lumian rubbed his chin. "Captain… how? Could you please explain?"
Hargreaves nodded and closed the file. "When I spoke with the station captain, he said the girl's body was found by her parents about three years ago and buried by the family. He thought that when Patricia returned her files, when Kelly supposedly 'left,' the mansion. it was essentially her way of cutting ties with the dead."
Vincent quickly interjected. "So, Captain… I don't know much about this investigation. I only know about the Duke's death. But if I understand correctly, you're saying the police had already confirmed her death… yet she was somehow in the Duke's mansion at that time?"
Hargreaves nodded. Vincent's smile widened. "That can only mean one thing—"
Lumian and Vincent said in unison, "Someone must have been impersonating her."
The unofficial member, clearly uninterested in being caught up in the investigation, quietly turned and left the room.
After a moment, Hargreaves gestured toward Lumian. "Before we continue with this, go and bring Lacey's body. Lady Patricia wants to carry him to a mortuary and bury him the next day."
Lumian nodded, but didn't move immediately, clearly waiting for something.
Seeing this, Hargreaves chuckled softly. "Don't worry, I'll send someone to assist you."
Lumian smiled faintly. "Thank you, Captain. I'll get started."
He turned and quickly headed downstairs, then veered to the right, stepping into the autopsy room.
...
As Lumian closed the door behind him, his gaze swept across the room, finally settling on the corpse. So Kelly was supposedly dead… he thought. Now, I'm certain. That person must be from the Witches' Garden. That's why Lacey was a Phase 7! They have been grooming him since childhood!
A small smirk tugged at his lips. I had this idea, but I didn't expect to figure it out so well, heh.
He stepped closer to the body, noting its closed eyes and clean yellow hair.
Now... how I'm I going to carry this? They should call someone strong like Paul, hehe.
Lumian's eyes lingered on Lacey, recalling the moment he had pulled the trigger. A faint frown crossed his face.
Then, something unexpected happened. The corpse's mouth twitched and trembled, as though it were trying to speak!