"Did you feel anything unusual?" Teest asked with enthusiasm.
Nol clenched his fists. His well-cultured demeanor forced him to maintain his composure—this was the millionth time Teest had asked him that. Teest had taken him around the City Lord's mansion twice, as if he wasn't a Lich but a corpse-sniffing dog.
"There are quite a few dead people around so it's hard to tell," Nol replied with a straight face. Whitebird City had stood for hundreds of years. Which household wasn't near a few buried corpses?
"Oh…" Teest's shoulders sagged in disappointment.
"Also, there are magical disruptors in that mansion. I need to get closer to sense properly," Nol added.
"We should be at least 70-80% sure before we go in," Teest said, twirling the ivy on the fence of the mansion. "If the City Lord really is involved in something, we could easily alert him."
Nol couldn't help but smile, showing Teest "The Complete Recipe Book" he held.
The ground was teeming with Investigation Knights, and having a notebook made of dragon skin was too conspicuous. So Nol used a unique skill inherent to his bloodline—wrapping the book cover.
He took the cover of "The Complete Recipe Book" he bought in a magic shop and wrapped it around the Dragon Corpse Notebook. Given that Teest claimed to be a cook, holding a recipe book seemed reasonable.
Amid Teest's puzzled gaze, Nol flipped to the second page of the notebook.
[Hiding in the Shadows: Consumes 2 MP per minute. Conceals a specific object within a 100*100*200 (cm) space.]
Before heading out, he had specially prepared this new invisibility spell. The spell had low consumption and was effective, with only one drawback.
"Do we really have to do this?" Teest asked deeply.
"My magic power is limited," Nol stated confidently. The invisibility spell's mana consumption was calculated by space, which was even more aggressive than the rent in City A. What could he do?
Now, with Teest's hands resting on Nol's shoulders and the two of them standing front to back, their proximity was extreme. They moved in sync like Siamese twins, as if playing a game of tag with an invisible opponent.
"If you have a way to conceal your breath, I suggest you use it," Nol advised as they approached the back door of the mansion.
He knew that the Fallen Knights had a skill called "Breath of the Despicable" that could eliminate their presence, which was essential for backstabbing.
Teest nodded listlessly, and the two, like a clumsy gust of wind, stumbled into the mansion. Unfortunately, there were more obstacles inside than they had anticipated.
Whitebird City wasn't big. Lord Swain would spare two hours out of his day to meet commoners. Here, "commoners" mainly referred to homeowners and legitimate businessmen.
However, times had changed. The City Lord was fully invested in finding his daughter. Even the dirtiest beggar or wandering fortune teller could meet him if they had information.
There was a long line outside the City Lord's office, everyone wanting to get some gold wheels. Nol and Teest had stealthily stepped on many toes before finally squeezing into the office.
The City Lord's office was well-lit, with a row of large windows overlooking the forest, clear sky, and two adjacent snow-capped mountains. One side of the room was filled with books on shelves, all dust-free, indicating frequent usage.
Despite it being summer, a fireplace burned in the room. Small fragrant logs slowly turned to ash, filling the room with an invigorating scent.
After sneaking in, the two found a corner and focused on the main figure in the room.
Lord Swain sat at his desk, surrounded by piles of documents, looking weak and worried. An elderly servant was the only other person in the room, attending to the door as per the City Lord's instructions.
"Next," Lord Swain said with a cough.
"Next!" The old servant opened the door wide and shouted—this was how Nol and Teest had slipped in earlier.
The next person to enter was someone they recognized.
"Good afternoon, honorable Lord Swain."
Chef Kurt stood nervously in the center of the room, still dressed in his finest attire. This time, he wore a comical hat, holding it against his chest, making an effort to bow.
"I, Gbagbo Kurt from Palm Street, am here to submit a relocation application," he said carefully. "My wife, our daughter, and I wish to leave Whitebird City."
"Reason?" Lord Swain looked up, pausing his writing.
A hint of joy appeared on Kurt's face. "The Alva Merchant Group has officially hired me. They especially like my peach cake and want to collaborate long-term. They mentioned providing housing for us in Grape Collar. I think—I think this is an opportunity, given recent events in my household…"
He swallowed, not finishing his sentence.
"Of course, I remember the Kurt family," Lord Swain said, setting down his pen and clasping his hands together. "I'm very sorry about your son. Leaving Whitebird City is good for you."
Mr. Kurt bowed even lower.
Lord Swain searched in his drawer for a moment, then stood up.
"Whether one is a lord or a chef, the feelings of being a parent are the same," he said, approaching Kurt and sighing deeply. "This is a small personal token from me, hoping you'll have a smooth life in Grape Collar. You deserve better."
He handed Mr. Kurt a small cloth bag, and Nol heard the faint jingle of coins.
"Thank you, oh heavens, thank you." Mr. Kurt's eyes welled up. "Praise the Goddess. May she calm all calamities with mercy."
Lord Swain patted his shoulder.
[Perhaps the Lord isn't as bad as we thought.] Nol communicated telepathically. [At least Mr. Kurt won't have to worry about his daughter's tuition anymore.]
[I find him even more suspicious now,] Teest responded. [If he really cared about the Kurt family, he would have shown it earlier—I don't believe he wasn't aware of their situation—yet he waited until Kurt found a way out, then gave him some money. Now the Kurt family will be too grateful to inquire further into the cause of their son's death.]
[…The cause of Kurt's son's death?]
[While you're busy corresponding with the witch, I have to find things to do too.]
Teest stretched his arms, leaning against Nol.
[From what I gathered, 14 days ago, Young Kurt disappeared from Whitebird City. The restaurant owner said he went to Dogtooth Bay; five days ago, he was killed by the Eternalists. The Investigation Knights witnessed him being blown to bits from afar… In those nine days, no one saw him. And the restaurant owner happens to be an Eternalist. Honesty isn't their virtue.]
Nol frowned. [Continue.]
[To kill just an ordinary person, the methods of the Eternal Church seem quite exaggerated. It's more like they're trying to create a distraction. Otherwise, why meet right under the noses of the Investigation Knights? They could have waited.]
The thought was indeed a bit peculiar. Nol pondered for a few seconds. [You're saying the Eternal Church intentionally exposed their own member to fake the death scene of Kurt's son?]
He wasn't used to such cold calculations.
[That's my guess,] Teest said. [Now that the City Lord is seemingly helping them keep quiet, I have to be suspicious.]
Although Nol also had doubts about the City Lord, he was still taken aback by Teest's thoughts.
In Nol's view, the death of Kurt's son might have been a hasty act by some minions of the Eternal Church. Lord Swain, being late to offer coins, might just be unaware or preoccupied. He hadn't considered this… cunning angle.
Teest's thinking was sharp, with a touch of darkness.
Before, as soon as his bones had fully grown, Teest had changed his address from "Mage" to "Mr. Mage". He obviously knew how to determine the gender of a skeleton… What does this guy do in the real world?
[It makes sense, but unfortunately, we have no evidence,] Nol concluded after Mr. Kurt left the room. [If the City Lord really has issues, he certainly knows how to handle the Investigation Knights. I assume he's already disposed of the evidence.]
[Trust me, this guy definitely has vulnerabilities.] Teest thought with amusement.
[How can you…] Before Nol could finish asking "be sure", he suddenly felt a strong scent of death.
In the room, Lord Swain took out the silver flask given to him by his daughter and took a sip.
From the narrow, dark mouth of the flask, a chilling scent of death overflowed. Nol quickly covered his mouth to prevent a retch.
It was the smell of a dead person, and overwhelmingly so.
Whatever was in the flask wasn't just mixed with human remains; it smelled like a whole body—fresh, cold, and intact.
But how can an entire person fit into a small flask?
Once the flask was closed, the scent vanished as if it had been an illusion. Under the sunlight, the angelic engraving on the flask shimmered. Lord Swain closed his eyes, swallowing and sighing, clearly savoring the moment.
Noticing Nol's reaction, Teest's amusement grew. He leaned closer to Nol's ear—even though they were communicating telepathically at the moment.
[You see, they are, after all, followers of a wicked cult,] he thought, almost whisper-like. [People always say that when you love someone, it cannot be hidden… I say, the same goes when you love a god.]
...
Upon returning to the City Lord's mansion, the two decided to brazenly enter through the front door. After all, with everyone and their pet cat or dog present, they wouldn't stand out too much. Nol's MP was tightly stretched. He couldn't sustain the invisibility spell recklessly.
As the two leisurely ascended the staircase, they communicated telepathically.
[Ah, I'd really like to tip off the Temple about this intelligence.] Teest walked behind Nol, muttering in his thoughts. [It would be delightful to watch them fight while we stand by.]
Nol wholeheartedly agreed. If the Temple of Life was righteous, then it would be a battle of good against evil. But if they couldn't be trusted, watching the factions bite at each other would be entertaining. They might even benefit from the chaos.
Ideally, that would be perfect. However, reality was less forgiving. Given the matter involved the City Lord and a sinister cult, even if they reported anonymously, the Investigation Knights would still trace the source.
Nol didn't want the Temple's attention. Going by Teest's sentiments, he didn't want to be widowed at such a young age either, fearing the system might inflict some debuff on him.
[We're already here. Let's think positively.] Nol murmured, [The City Lord won't be too wary of us right now. We have plenty of time to investigate thoroughly and might find a better solution.]
[We'll need to find a way to stay at the City Lord's mansion then.] Teest pointed out.
[Yes, let me think…] Nol started brainstorming.
At that moment, Teest, walking behind, suddenly halted. Before Nol could react, Teest began to fall backward.
Nol's heart skipped a beat.
For a split second, time seemed to stretch endlessly—Teest's face held a smile, his silver hair spreading out as if he was sinking underwater.
Nol instinctively reached out, managing only to graze a strand of Teest's hair. The cold hair strand slipped through his fingers, leaving his palm empty.
Teest plummeted, rolling down the staircase before crashing at the turn. Blood began to spread on the carpet, staining his silver hair.
The entire ordeal lasted mere seconds. If this were a scene in a film, the protagonist would surely be doomed.
"Teest!" An aghast Nol almost forgot to breathe. As he hurriedly descended the stairs, he prepared a healing spell—
[Don't heal me. I've got this.] Teest's calm thoughts reached him. [Now, we have a reason to stay.]
[What kind of rotten idea is this?] Nol thought bitterly. [We agreed to investigate together. I'm still going to heal you. If you recover too fast, it'll raise suspicions.]
When they previously rescued the young knight, Teest's excuse was that he "happened to have a healing potion." That wouldn't work this time. Claiming to possess another expensive healing potion would make them look suspicious, especially to the Temple's Investigation Knights.
With half-closed eyes, Teest looked over. His eyes, obscured by blood, glimmered. As he gazed at Nol, the latter returned the stare intently.
[A rotten idea? My dear Mr. Mage, how could you think so?]
Weakly turning his head to the ceiling, the metallic scent of blood became more potent, yet Teest's eyes remained mischievous.
[After our investigation, I can replicate this injury. No one would be the wiser.]
[This is clearly the best idea.]
The author has something to say:
Nol: Instantly check marital partner's mental state.jpg
Teest: *:(^ω^)*·☆