In the dead of night, at Kankdal Port, the Church’s inquisitorial prison ship belonging to the Heresy Inquisition, the Scourge of Flame, sat docked. Within one of its rust-streaked, narrow, and shadowy passageways, Inquisitor Clifton strode quickly forward, flanked by two attendants. Their destination was a sealed iron door at the end of the corridor.
Reaching the door, Clifton personally took out a key and unlocked it. Beyond the door was a set of iron bars, and behind them, shackled head to toe, dressed in a thin prisoner’s uniform and covered in minor wounds and bloodstains, was a visibly terrified man—Cidd, one of the guards from the Addus envoy delegation.
At the sight of Clifton suddenly appearing, Cidd’s face contorted in fear, and he instinctively backed away. Clifton cast a cold glance over the prisoner and spoke slowly.
“Cleric Hank Cidd. Colluding with Savior’s Advent heretics. Attempted assassination of a Baruch royal before a crowd. The evidence is conclusive, witnessed by all. Do you have anything left to say?”
Cidd shuddered and immediately stammered out a response.
“No—I didn’t mean to assassinate anyone! I was controlled! I didn’t know anything at the time, I was sleeping and then... someone took over my body somehow! I only realized what had happened afterward! Please, Your Excellency, investigate this clearly!”
His voice was filled with panic as he cried out. Clifton, unmoved, replied coldly.
“Controlled, is it? Hah… So many prisoners come to us with that excuse, trying to dodge the consequences of their sins. Do you think there are that many mystical powers in this world capable of easily controlling others? You say you were controlled—do you have any proof? No proof? Then it’s just an excuse.”
“I…”
Cidd opened his mouth, trying to explain, but the words caught in his throat. He had no evidence. From any onlooker’s perspective, it did indeed look like he had acted with murderous intent.Clifton’s lips curled slightly upward as he stepped closer and leaned in with increasing pressure.
“No evidence? Then you colluded with heretic assassins—irrefutable. And as a soldier of the Church, you should know what fate awaits those who betray it.”
“Colluding with heretics is… a capital crime…” Cidd said in a trembling voice, staring at the approaching Clifton in terror.
Clifton nodded, seemingly pleased.
“Yes, colluding with heretics is a grave blasphemy against the Lord—an unforgivable crime, even more severe than dealing with heathens. Once convicted, there is no room for appeal. I’ve come to Kankdal not only with the authority to investigate on the spot but also to judge and execute immediately. This Scourge of Flame is fully equipped for executions.
“Cleric Cidd… shall I escort you out now to choose the method of your execution?”
The danger in Clifton’s tone was unmistakable. Unlike other guards of the envoy delegation—whom Clifton still needed to interrogate—Cidd had acted out in public. Clifton didn’t even need a trial to sentence him to death. Cidd’s fate rested entirely in Clifton’s hands.
At those words, Cidd’s panic reached its peak. He began to tremble uncontrollably, his eyes widening in despair, his expression twisted with fear. The terror of death stirred violently within him—until, at last, he broke.
“Mercy! Please, Inquisitor! Have mercy! I’m not a heretic, I swear—I don’t want to die! Please spare me! I’ll do anything you ask—anything!”
His composure shattered. Tears streamed down his face as he sobbed and begged in desperation. Clifton looked down at him, then feigned contemplation before slowly speaking.
“There is a way to save your life. Though you colluded with heretics and attempted to assassinate a prince, bringing great disgrace to the Church… since your attempt was interrupted and no blood was spilled by your hand, there may still be a way to atone. If you fully cooperate with my investigation, you may yet redeem yourself.”
Cidd responded instantly.
“Yes—cooperate! I’ll cooperate completely, Your Excellency. I’ll fully support your investigation!”
Seeing Cidd’s response, Clifton nodded and leaned slightly forward, continuing.
“Good. Then Cleric Cidd, let’s begin. Tell me—who are your co-conspirators? Were there any targets besides Prince Mazarr? Within your heretic-corrupted circle, what role did Sister Vania play? Was it she who devised the assassination plan?”
Clifton fired off a barrage of questions. At the sound of Sister Vania’s name, Cidd hesitated.
“Sister Vania… um…”
“What’s this? Don’t want to talk?” Clifton’s voice chilled.
“I advise you to recognize your situation. If you let others be arrested first and they confess before you do, you’ll lose your chance to earn any merit. Your only hope now is to seize that credit while you still can. So I suggest you think carefully… and confess what must be confessed.”
With a subtly suggestive tone, Clifton spoke to Cidd. Upon hearing these implied words, realization finally dawned in Cidd’s heart—he instantly understood what Clifton wanted: false testimony. It was obvious Clifton was targeting Vania, but lacked critical evidence, and so needed Cidd’s confession to fill that gap.
What Clifton wanted now was for Cidd to identify Vania—as the ringleader, the prime culprit behind it all. Whether she actually had any ties to the heretics or not no longer mattered. As long as he pointed the finger, it would become fact. If Vania was named the leader of this group of "heretics" and implicated, then perhaps he could survive by claiming credit.
“Your Excellency… if I name the leader, if I expose the corruption within the envoy delegation—can I be saved?” Cidd asked with a faint gleam of hope.
Clifton nodded solemnly and reaffirmed, “Of course.”
“Alright… alright! I confess—I’ll confess everything!” Cidd declared loudly. He was ready to confess exactly what Clifton wanted to hear. At that, a slight smile curled at the edge of Clifton’s mouth.
“Your Excellency, I confess! Our entire envoy delegation, while in Addus, was corrupted by heretics—uh…”
Just as Cidd began speaking, his body suddenly stiffened. He shuddered, his eyes rolled back, and he let out a strange sound before leaning to one side. But at the last moment, he abruptly straightened up and looked at Clifton with a calm expression.
“What’s wrong with you?” Clifton asked, eyeing him warily. Cidd returned his gaze silently for a moment, then answered between short breaths.
“Huff… huff… it’s nothing, Your Excellency. Let me continue my confession. Where was I?”
“You were saying the entire envoy delegation was corrupted by heretics in Addus…” Clifton replied, narrowing his eyes.
“Ah, right. Let’s continue then. Yes… at the time, we were targeted by the heretics in Addus. But from Sister Vania to us all, we resisted that vile corruption. We fought the heresy with blood and faith—not only in spirit but in body. Our actions even moved the revolutionary general Shadi, compelling him to sever ties with the heretics and return Addus to the Lord’s embrace. Very soon, he will announce a message that will stir joy in the hearts of all faithful believers!”
With a trace of determined light in his weakened eyes, Cidd declared loudly. Hearing this, Clifton’s expression immediately darkened. This was the complete opposite of the testimony he was expecting. Based on Cidd’s earlier demeanor, he should never have said such things now.
Suddenly, golden light glimmered faintly at the edges of Clifton’s pupils. His gaze grew sharp as he glared at Cidd and barked, “You’re being controlled! Who is it?! Who’s controlling your body?! Reveal yourself!”
He shouted, launching a mystical detection spell to scan Cidd’s body, trying to identify any mystical traces. But he found nothing—no marks, no external attachments—Cidd’s body showed no signs of interference.
“Controlled? Heh… Your Excellency, earlier I said I was controlled when I tried to carry out the assassination, and you told me to produce proof. Now you’re saying I’m being controlled—so where’s your proof? Didn’t you yourself say such powers were rare? What’s this now—are you making excuses for your own incompetence?”
“You…”
Cidd’s voice dripped with mockery, pushing Clifton to the brink. Just as Clifton was about to intensify his detection, Cidd suddenly collapsed sideways and fell unconscious right in front of him.
“Open the door! Examine him thoroughly! Check for any mystical traces, any sigils, tools—anything abnormal at all!”
Spitting in frustration, Clifton shouted at his attendants. They obeyed at once, unlocking the cell door and inspecting Cidd’s unconscious body.
The examination went on for quite a while. Cidd was stripped bare, his entire body scoured for anomalies. Even his mouth and nostrils weren’t spared, and his abdominal cavity was checked using mystical means. Yet nothing suspicious was found—no artifacts, no mystical items, only wounds covering his body.
Despite continuously casting detection spells, Clifton found nothing. Defeated, he gave the order to stop. Cidd was re-chained and locked away again, while Clifton left with a deep frown etched on his face.
As he walked, he kept replaying the events in his mind.
“Nothing was found on him… could it be… that brat really wasn’t being controlled?
“Did he act like he was cooperating just to humiliate me?
“Hmph. I thought he was the weak one… Turns out he’s just as stubborn—and even more insidious—than the rest. Is that little nun really so compelling? Are these bastards all so willing to die for her without saying a word?
“If that’s the case… let’s see how long you can hold out!”
With that thought, Clifton strode forward quickly. It was time to plan the next day’s interrogation.
…
Meanwhile, on the other side of Kankdal, Dorothy sat on her hotel balcony, gazing into the night in the direction of the harbor docks.
“He really is using every trick he has, that Inquisitor. Good thing I left a contingency with those people, or this could’ve gone badly.”
She murmured as she sipped her coffee, enjoying the night air. At the same time, she was closely monitoring the situation aboard, without even using her miniature marionettes to infiltrate—because the eyes she was borrowing now belonged to the detained envoy guards themselves, including Cidd.
After the battle at the Baruch Royal Palace, the envoy’s guards had suffered heavy casualties. Those who survived, apart from Cidd—who had suspicions of desertion—were all gravely wounded and had to be fully treated by Vania.
Because those men were likely to remain by Vania’s side for a while—and possibly included surveillance agents from factions other than Vania’s—Dorothy had Vania be cautious during treatment, using flesh-reconstruction techniques to implant Dorothy’s Marionette Mark into their internal tissues.
The mark was hidden extremely well—woven into veins, nerves, or muscle fibers via healing. It remained deep within, invisible from the surface, undetectable even in commonly checked places like the digestive tract. When inactive, the mark left no mystical traces. When activated, Dorothy could channel the concealment from her Concealment Ring to the target, enabling mystical stealth without them needing to carry any Shadow storage item. In ordinary understanding, such a thing should be impossible.
Originally, all envoy’s guards aside from the lightly wounded Cidd had already received the mark. But on the day of the assassination, following Dorothy’s instructions, Vania immediately healed Cidd’s lingering minor injuries and took the chance to implant the mark in him as well. That was how Dorothy had been able to observe the interrogation just now from Cidd’s perspective.
When she saw Clifton persuade Cidd into falsely accusing Vania and the others, Dorothy acted immediately—sending a jolt through the conduit, stunning the already weakened Cidd unconscious. She then took direct control of his body through the Marionette Mark, delivering those scathing remarks to Clifton and painting Cidd as a loyal soldier—successfully defusing the crisis.
“Although this particular crisis is over, the problem remains. As long as those people are still being tortured under the Inquisition’s custody, there’s always the risk that someone will break. And my spirituality isn’t limitless—I can’t keep countering the Inquisitor like this forever.
“So while they can still hold out, the top priority now is to find the kind of evidence Sister Ivy mentioned—the kind that will completely overturn the Inquisition’s suspicions.”
Staring up at the moonlight, a glint of resolve surfaced in Dorothy’s eyes. She began thinking seriously about where she could find such an undeniable piece of evidence—something so irrefutable that even a clearly biased inquisitor like Clifton couldn’t deny it.
After considering many plans under the moonlight, Dorothy finally settled on a direction.
“Looks like… if I want to resolve this, I’ll need to pay the Baruch people a visit.”