Pritt, Tivian
Late at night, in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of South Tivian, Gregor stood at the center of the warehouse, wearing someone else’s clothes and bearing someone else’s appearance. He gazed at the unmoving corpse on the ground before him and couldn’t help but murmur with a trace of emotion.
“He’s dead… A White Ash is just dead like that. I actually killed a White Ash…”
Staring at the lifeless body of Atif, Gregor found it somewhat unbelievable.
As someone within the official mystic system, Gregor knew very well that even within the Tivian Central Bureau, there were fewer than ten White Ash-rank Beyonders. Across the entire Pritt Serenity Bureau system, the total number barely exceeded thirty.
Though Gregor wasn’t clear on the numbers within the military and royal circles, they likely weren’t much higher. In his estimation, all officially recognized White Ash-ranked mystics within the Prittian Kingdom probably didn’t even number a hundred. Thus, White Ash mystics were considered top-tier elites—highly valuable resources.
In Gregor’s mind, White Ash had always been a level far above his reach—captains holding key positions in the bureau, his superiors, or leaders within evil organizations.
When he joined the bureau, Gregor had set himself the goal of reaching White Ash before age forty. To him, it was both a dream and the pinnacle of his career. And now… before he even achieved that rank himself, he had slain one with his own hands.
It felt surreal.
Still dazed, Gregor took several deep breaths, then looked down at the short blade in his hand. On it, several small iron-tipped darts were still magnetically clinging to the blade. As he stared, the magnetic pull dissipated, and the darts clattered to the floor. “I was only able to kill this White Ash because of the help from Detective and that woman… Their powers are strong and bizarre. They can create unseen effects from afar—I’ve never seen anything like it before… terrifying.
“Thankfully, Detective’s group isn’t some evil cult. If they were hostile to the Serenity Bureau, I really don’t know how we’d deal with them…”
Gregor marveled internally, once again struck by the mysterious power of Detective’s faction. But at the same time, a seed of unease sprouted in his heart—if this group, with such unclear motives and eerie strength, ever turned against the Bureau or became enemies of Pritt, what then?
“There are too many mysteries about them… if only I could learn just a little more…”
As Gregor stood pondering in the warehouse, a voice suddenly called out behind him.
“Are you contemplating life, Sir Shadow Facade?”
Startled, Gregor turned around to see the mysterious woman—who was clearly affiliated with the detective—approaching from the warehouse entrance. As always, her face was hidden behind her signature mask.
“No… just reflecting a little. I’ve never beaten someone this powerful before, lady…” he replied respectfully.
The woman, Adèle, smiled slightly.
“To have done so well in your first match against a White Ash… your skills are commendable.”
“Not at all… it was only because of your help and Detective’s guidance that I managed. If I’d faced that guy alone… even ten of me wouldn’t have stood a chance.”
Adèle chuckled softly.
“So modest, Sir Shadow Facade. But enough pleasantries—now that the target’s been eliminated, let’s get on with the main task. Where’s the hostage Detective mentioned?”
Gregor turned to glance behind a small brick room and answered.
“In there. I already checked earlier—he’s still alive, just unconscious.”
“Good. I’ve already notified my people to come in from the perimeter. They’ll handle the rescue and cleanup. If you’ve got other things to attend to, Sir Shadow Facade, feel free to go rest.
“If you’re worried about the loot, you’re welcome to wait. Per our agreement, Detective is compensating me separately, so most of the spoils from these folks will be yours. Once we’ve verified their safety and catalogued everything, we’ll send them to you.
“Of course, if you don’t trust us and want to take them now, that’s fine too—but you’ll need to handle identification and safety checks yourself.”
Tipping the brim of her wide hat, Adèle laid out the terms.
Gregor turned to look at the corpses on the ground, a bit surprised that Detective and this woman would give him the lion’s share of the spoils. So… this wasn’t unpaid labor after all.
“I don’t really have the means to appraise anything… so please, my lady, take them for now. I’m going to go get some well-earned rest.”
Stretching with a long yawn, Gregor waved and swiftly exited the warehouse.
Watching him go, Adèle murmured softly to herself.
"Faced with the spoils of a White Ash-rank Beyonder, and still choosing to just go back and rest? Is he simply that trusting… or just plain tired? How curious..."
With that said, Adèle turned her attention back to the battlefield, now quiet after the fight, ready to begin directing the cleanup operation.
…
After the battle in the South District, Adèle had her subordinates, who had been on standby around the warehouse, come in to clean up the scene. Once all traces of mystical activity had been cleared, she ordered all the corpses at the site, along with Nust, to be brought back to her base of operations in East Tivian.
Nust, still unconscious, was temporarily housed at Adèle’s headquarters, where her team’s doctors immediately began treatment and diagnosis.
They first treated and bandaged the wounds covering his body from the torture, then diagnosed the cause of his unconsciousness — confirming that it was due to a drug that had forced him into a deep sleep. As long as the drug wasn’t administered continuously, he would likely wake within a short time.
Sure enough, by late morning the following day, Nust slowly regained consciousness. Upon realizing that he had awakened in an unfamiliar, enclosed medical room, his guard instantly shot up. He remained extremely alert, refusing to listen to the doctors’ explanations that he was safe and out of danger, firmly believing that this was all an elaborate trick staged by the kidnappers to coax secrets out of him.
Adèle had anticipated this. She had a blank sheet of paper, which she’d previously requested from Gregor, brought in and handed to the uncooperative Nust. The moment Nust received what looked like a torn-out page from a notebook, he was startled to see handwriting appear — the very handwriting of the young lady of the Boyle family he served, Nephthys. What’s more, the writing appeared line by line, as if from nowhere.
Cautiously, Nust began studying the page. The handwriting on it, belonging to Nephthys, explained that this was a mystical communication tool — allowing two separate texts from far-flung locations to communicate in writing. She was using this very method to speak with him.
At first, Nust didn’t believe it. He suspected this paper might be inhabited by some spirit pretending to be his young mistress, trying to trick him into revealing the secrets of the hidden chamber. But when the handwriting began to mention details that only members of the Boyle family could possibly know — and even went so far as to display the method for opening the secret room — Nust was finally convinced that he was indeed speaking with Nephthys.
After all, if she already knew the secrets he had so zealously guarded, what reason was there to keep resisting? There was no way the enemy would already know and still try to fake it.
Fully assured that he had been rescued, Nust let out a deep breath. His whole body relaxed. After apologizing to the doctors who had been treating him, he actively cooperated with their continued care and resumed his communication with Nephthys, far away.
"To think… I actually got rescued after passing out. I’d really thought I was going to die at the hands of those bastards. I never imagined things would turn around like this."
In the private hospital room, dressed in a patient’s gown, Nust sat on his bed with a book under the communication page, writing on it. Before long, Nephthys’s reply appeared on the page.
"That’s all thanks to the society I’m with now. As soon as they heard you’d been captured, they immediately mobilized their forces in Tivian, found where you were, and rescued you."
"A society… huh."
Reading those words, Nust glanced around the hospital room and thought about the professional doctors who had treated him. He couldn’t help but admire how powerful this society must be — to have a field clinic like this at just one of their branch bases. Only such an organization could’ve pulled off a rescue in such short time.
Nust had known that Nephthys had joined some kind of mystical organization. Though he hadn’t objected outright, he had warned her again and again to be cautious, lest she be taken advantage of or fall into danger.
But never had he expected the society to be this effective — to organize a rescue for a mere household butler of a low-level member? That was too generous. Nephthys was still just a Black Earth-rank member and had only recently joined. He’d naturally assumed she was at the very bottom of the organization. Yet they’d still done this much for her?
The only explanation was that it must have taken them very little effort to defeat that group of thieves — even though the enemy had included a White Ash and several Black Earth-rank Beyonders. And if that was “easy” for them… just how powerful was this society?
Nust couldn’t help but let his imagination run wild. What kind of group could afford to go to such lengths — taking down a White Ash and a crew of Black Earths — for the sake of a junior member?
Just then, another message from Nephthys appeared on the page.
"By the way, I’ve got a rather important question for you, Grandpa Nust. Do you know who those thieves were that kidnapped you? What exactly were they after?"
Seeing the freshly appearing words, Nust snapped out of his imagination and gave the matter some serious thought. After a while, he began writing again.
"I’m not sure of their exact identities, but I could tell they were tomb raiders from a looting society in North Ufiga — same kind of people as me and the master used to be. As for why they attacked the house and kidnapped me, it’s simple. They were trying to help an ancient undead find the scepter hidden in the basement. They were cursed and had no choice but to follow the orders of that ancient undead."
"What? They were cursed?"
"Yes. From what I gathered from their conversations, those people encountered that ancient undead during a tomb raid, and ended up cursed by it. The undead used the curse as leverage, ordering them to come to Tivian and steal the scepter that wards off the curse. If they disobeyed or failed to steal it within a set time, the undead would kill them with the curse. They had no choice but to obey it."
Recalling what he’d heard, Nust wrote this down on the page. Shortly after, Nephthys’s reply appeared once again.
"That ancient undead… actually knows where the scepter is?"
"That’s right… Remember how the scepter temporarily failed last year due to lacking Revelation? It was during that window that the undead’s influence extended here through the curse. I think that’s when it located the scepter’s whereabouts. Then it waited until recently to finally curse a group of tomb raiders, and used them to steal the scepter."
Nust wrote his theory about how things began. After pondering further, he picked up the pen again and continued.
"To be honest, I’ve been more and more surprised by how powerful and relentless that ancient undead is. This time isn’t the first it has cursed people to steal the scepter, and it certainly won’t be the last."
"That ancient undead seems to be growing stronger by the day. Miss, as someone who bears the Boyle bloodline, you can’t escape its entanglement. Danger could strike you at any moment. At this point, I don’t think it’s the time to slowly and steadily build your strength anymore — you need greater power, and quickly, to face what’s coming."
Nust wrote these words with utmost seriousness. After his sentence ended, a hesitant question from Nephthys appeared.
"Grandpa Nust, are you saying that…"
"I’ve decided to give you the rest of the master’s notes, Miss. Please make good use of them."