The Demon Extermination Squad continued the search until deep into the night. They tore the mansion nearly to its foundations but found no trace of dark deity minions, let alone the cultists themselves.
Several experienced fighters' instincts had hinted at a lingering dark aura here before, but after the thorough search, their certainty wavered noticeably. Even the two Holy Swordsmen, Frida included, were no longer firmly convinced it hadn't been a false feeling.
Reyn participated in the searches too. Of all present, only he knew for certain this was a cultist lair, but without proof, he could only suppress bitter frustration. In the end, finding nothing substantial, the squad had to withdraw.
Davenlak and the Secret Fire Guard had left the mansion earlier, sending Ebl's entire family under escort for immediate interrogation.
Back at the Public Security Bureau, the fighters gathered in the briefing room, tensely awaiting news. Reyn, discreetly activating Soul Eye, closely studied his comrades' states. He suspected a "mole" had infiltrated the squad and warned the Lohe followers, letting them vanish without a trace.
Milton with his murky past came under suspicion first. But his soul was utterly ordinary, emotions unremarkable against the background. Plus, Milton worshipped the Goddess of Magic, making ties to Lohe cultists unthinkable. Then Reyn looked at Ilay. A greenish-brown faith flame writhed in his soul, radiating boundless vitality—a sign of devotion to the Earth Mother Goddess, ruling out any Lohe connection. The other squad fighters showed no signs of serving dark gods either; all followed the Empire's three main deities.
"Could the 'mole' not be in our squad, but another?" flashed through Reyn's mind.
He recalled the night's events. The Public Security Bureau had acted too openly. After Captain Pollock left with the tip-off letter, Supreme Captain Davenlak reported up the chain, alerting the Secret Fire Guard. Likely then the "mole" got the info. If so, the evil god followers had infiltrated Longsand's highest power echelons!
Reyn shook his head mentally. With this "mole" free, he couldn't use anonymous tips anymore. He'd have to act alone.
"Damn, that's an impossible task," he thought irritably, feeling a headache coming on. Cultists always acted in groups, and handling them solo would be extremely hard.
Dawn neared when Pollock returned.
"Captain, interrogation results?" Ilay rose immediately.
"Nothing," Pollock shook his head grimly. "Secret Fire Guard sent a psyker. Everyone went through intense questioning, but no cultist ties found."
Psykers were a branch of the Law Seals School—a special magical discipline founded by the Red Stone Duke. They specialized in mental spells, masters of hypnosis, mind control, and soul attacks, renowned as unparalleled interrogators.
"And Sir Ebl?" Frida asked skeptically. She still believed the mansion owner held the key; even last night during his arrest, he'd seemed suspicious to her.
Truth be told, Pollock shared her suspicions but replied regretfully:
"He's clean too."
Extreme astonishment showed on the fighters' faces. Reyn was especially shocked. No one knew the true background better than him, and he couldn't fathom how this was possible. Days ago, eavesdropping by the mansion walls, he'd clearly heard Ebl talking with Lohe followers. Ebl knew exactly who they were and was definitely connected. Yet somehow he'd cleared all suspicion and fooled the psyker during interrogation!
A thought crossed Reyn's mind: "What if the interrogating psyker's not right either?" He dismissed it as absurd. Becoming a psyker required at least seventh-level power, so each was a high-rank mage or above. They were exceedingly rare; most imperial psykers hailed from Pallas Floating City, the Red Stone Duke's stronghold. In Longsand, there were probably only a handful, holding top positions second only to legendary mages. How could such a person connect with a dark god? Reyn didn't dare pursue the thought.
Soon after dawn, the Public Security Bureau officially stated Sir Ebl and family had no cultist ties, and he was immediately released. But Ebl wasn't letting it slide. Claiming his family suffered severe trauma, he intended to complain to His Excellency the Duke, accusing the Demon Extermination Squad of unlawful persecution. This created major issues. Ebl was a noble with vast connections, and arresting his whole family on one tip-off alone—and fruitlessly—demanded explanations from the Public Security Bureau.
Days later, Sir Ebl got his way: the incident buzzed across the city, causing major resonance in aristocratic circles. Rumors even reached the Duke himself. Soon the Longsand mayor demanded a report from the Public Security Bureau. In the end, blame fell on Supreme Captain Davenlak: he was fined half a year's pay and ordered to personally apologize to Sir Ebl. Captain Pollock, who first received the tip-off and failed to verify it, was also punished, losing three months' pay. The punishment wasn't harsh—more formality—but the entire Demon Extermination Squad took it with extreme displeasure.
Reyn could only sigh inwardly: this Sir Ebly turned out to be no pushover. The result of his report was disastrous: the scheme had ended in complete failure, and on top of that, Captain Pollock had lost three months' worth of income because of him. Moreover, after this fiasco, no one would dare trust anonymous tips anymore.
"Reports are useless. Looks like I'll have to rely only on myself," Reyn decided.
Having lost the trail of the cultists, he didn't yet know what to do next. Putting those thoughts aside, he returned to his usual routine: morning meditation and training, followed by music lessons with Viola at the "Violet House" after lunch.
A torrent of swift, gale-like sounds filled the room. Reyn sat at the keyboard organ, completely absorbed in his playing. Leaning slightly forward, he made his ten fingers flutter literally over the keys, turning into blurry shadows. The music, like a furious storm, poured out from under his hands, filling the space around him now with high, piercing passages, now slowing to the light, barely audible whisper of summer rain. The transitions were smooth and flawless, without a single mistake. When the final chord faded and the sound of rain filling the room died away.
Quiet applause rang out—Viola, sitting nearby, was clapping.
"Reyn," she said in admiration, "you performed this Reyn Poem simply magnificently, no worse than the most virtuoso masters. I still can't believe you've been practicing the keyboard organ for less than a month. The Long-haired Lady is clearly too favorable to you."
Reyn, shaking off the remnants of his musical trance, smiled:
"It's all thanks to you—you're a wonderful teacher."
He himself was amazed by his own progress. This Reyn Poem was incredibly complex, comparable to the famous Flight of the Bumblebee from his past life, which keyboard organ performers often used to demonstrate their mastery. Reyn soberly assessed his abilities: in his previous life, his level was merely amateur, and he couldn't even dream of such pieces. However, becoming a Superhuman and gaining the ability for incredibly precise hand control thanks to the gyroscope in his phone, he had reached heights in just a few weeks of practice that had seemed unattainable throughout his former life.
In Viola's eyes, it looked like a real miracle. Over the past month, she had repeatedly marveled at his talent, feeling a slight envy and even considering converting Reyn to the faith of Freya.
Viola suddenly sighed:
"Even if I played the Reyn Poem myself, I doubt I could do it better. I have nothing more to teach you."
Reyn merely smiled reservedly in response. In fact, he had reached her level a week ago but hadn't said anything, wanting to continue their joint lessons. Viola also enjoyed the time spent with Reyn making music, looking forward to the afternoon hours every day and even somewhat neglecting the affairs of the "Violet House." Both understood this perfectly but kept a silent agreement.
Reyn gazed intently at Viola's beautiful face, his look bold and a bit daring. The atmosphere in the room subtly shifted. Less than half a minute passed before Viola couldn't stand it. Her earlobes flushed red, and she hastily stood up:
"You keep practicing, and I need to go downstairs to sort something out."
Without waiting for Reyn's response, she hurried out.
Reyn watched her slender, hastily retreating figure with his eyes, then looked away and chuckled quietly. And immediately felt a pang of annoyance. Lately, he had persistently tried to get closer to Viola, using all his charm to break down that thin wall of unspoken words. But every time, at the most crucial moment, Viola retreated, either abruptly changing the topic or finding an excuse to leave.
Thanks to the Eye of the Soul, Reyn could directly see others' emotions. He knew Viola felt strong affection for him—after all, she was the one who had shown interest in him first. But now, it seemed, some other doubts tormented her, making her constantly avoid him. Reyn took a step forward, she stepped back. Only the thinnest veil separated them, but that veil turned out to be surprisingly sturdy, and he couldn't tear it.
The pursuit of beauty is inherent in everyone, especially when it comes to such an incomparable beauty as Viola… Reyn hadn't met a woman so dazzling in either of his lives. She was so close, almost within arm's reach, but their relationship remained foggy, and this impatience was starting to wear on him.
"What's the matter?"
Reyn racked his brains but found no answer. The mood to play was gone. His fingers wandered aimlessly over the keys, producing meaningless sounds. His thoughts raced feverishly. To win a beauty, you need to guess her deepest desire. What did Viola want?
"Appearance? She's already incredibly beautiful, and I'm handsome enough to match her."
"Power? She's an All Spirits Mage of the sixth level, stronger than me, and can reach high rank at any moment."
"Wealth? She's from a ducal family, runs the 'Violet House.' Of course, she needs big money, but trifles won't impress her, and I can't offer that yet."
Reyn had long planned how to earn a significant fortune and even taken some preparatory steps. But it was too important a matter, and until his relationship with Viola clarified, he didn't want to act rashly, lest others reap the fruits of his labors. That option was out for now. What remained?
Everything ordinary people dream of, Viola already had. Perhaps offer her something completely unique, something she would love with all her heart.
Suddenly, a realization flashed in Reyn's mind. He knew what could conquer Viola.