Chapter 34: Falconcrest
Raven's gaze swept the dimly lit Red Apple Inn, landing on Palmer. The young man froze, a mixture of surprise and unease flashing across his face.
[Oh? He recognized me right away.]
"Indeed," Raven said softly, tone calm but firm. He shifted his attention to Marcellus and Selene. "You two can relax now. Palmer, bring my friends some drinks."
The two stepped back toward an empty table, eyes flicking between Raven and the counter.
"H-How did you know my name?" Palmer stammered, his confusion palpable.
"Take care of them, lad," Franco cut in sharply, flipping his ledger with precise fingers. "Don't ask too many questions."
Palmer retreated, muttering, while Raven lowered himself onto a wooden chair. The grain dug slightly into his palms, grounding him in the moment.
"Can we talk comfortably now?" Raven asked.
"Yes." Franco's nod was subtle, almost imperceptible. He turned pages deliberately before halting at the twentieth.
"I have information about the 'Sword Princess,'" he began. "But I can't reveal it without a price, Mr. Thomas. Royal matters—even high-class nobles—don't come cheaply."
Raven leaned back, eyes steady, voice casual as if recounting trivial knowledge. "Her strength… only around Radiant Knight, right? From what I've heard, she isn't even legitimate. Concubine-born, correct?"
Franco's eyes narrowed. This young man… he knows more than he should.
"Ten gold coins," he said finally. "No less. Take it or leave it."
Raven's hand flicked subtly. A leather pouch appeared on the counter, fifty coins inside. He pushed it forward.
"I give you fifty gold coins. Ten for the Sword Princess, forty for everything else I'll be asking."
Franco's lips twitched; he quickly counted the coins, eyes sharp.
"The Sword Princess… real name Athena Sillalus Jorvot. Thirty-fifth Princess of Zenith Empire. Mother: Jeanne, a commoner-turned-concubine. Fifteen years ago, another child was born but declared dead. The Sword Princess and her elder sister vanished… even we couldn't track them. Controversy lasted a week and faded."
He paused, gauging Raven's reaction. Raven's face remained unreadable.
"Recently, Royal Mages claimed the Sword Princess was kidnapped by her aunt, allegedly in vengeance. She's now in the Royal Prison, to be sent to the Black Prison once the court approves. Final hearing: two weeks from now. A mere formality. Who dares stand against the Royal Family?"
Raven's eyes darkened. "Date. Exact date."
"September 23rd, 1:00 P.M. Supreme Court of Zenith. Seven judges, chief judge presiding."
"The advocate?"
"Sir Cedric Thorne," Franco whispered. "One of the Empire's most formidable lawyers. Loyal to the Royal Family, undefeated in high-profile cases. His involvement… means no opposition will succeed."
Raven's jaw tightened, knuckles whitening against the counter.
"And the defense?"
Franco's eyes darkened. "There is none, Mr. Holmes. Royal Family internal matter. Public hearing is only a formality."
Raven's mind raced. No defense. Athena has no voice. The Royal Family silences all.
"Thank you for your information, Mr. Franco," Raven said, calm and precise. "You've been most helpful."
Franco inclined his head. "Anything else, Mr. Holmes?"
Raven leaned forward, voice smooth but deliberate. "I want to know about someone else… Judith, Vice President of Crow's Misery."
Franco froze. "You asked about a thug, then the Sword Princess, now… a Vice President? What are you planning, Mr. Holmes?"
Raven's gaze never wavered. "Curiosity."
Franco snorted. "Even nobility doesn't spend gold for curiosity." He exhaled sharply. "She rose from a commoner background, became a noble through achievement, now a Legendary Powerhouse. Wizard, Vice President, loyal to the Empire. Twenty years ago, she registered a case against the President, splitting the Wizards into three factions: Wizard Alliance, Empire Wizards, Wizard Union. She leads the Union. That's all I know."
Raven nodded, satisfied. "Then, I want information about the group called 'Falcons.'"
"Falcons? You mean Falconcrest?" Franco furrowed his brow.
Raven tilted his head. "Falconcrest?"
Franco exhaled sharply. "Not strictly bandits, but a notorious gang in the Royal Capital. Robbery, violence, smuggling… until 1403, when the Police suppressed them. Remaining members scattered across the empire."
Raven raised a brow. "But why did they kidnap me? And Inspector Bennett's involvement?"
Franco barked at a nearby servant. "Abel! File No. 43 and 92."
The servant disappeared, returning with two large notebooks.
Franco took the notebooks, picked the one on top, and began searching through the pages with meticulous care.
"The Count first met Inspector Bennett on February 2nd… Then, he left the city and came back two days later. Then he met the count again on Feb. 10th, 13th, and 16th three times… Thomas Holmes's missing case was registered on March 2nd…"
As he flipped the pages, his voice traced the movements of Inspector Bennett and the people he contacted. Every name, every date, every interaction unfolded like a puzzle.
"If we get Inspector Bennett, we can find a lot more information about the 'Falconcrest.'"
Raven nodded, absorbing the details.
"That will be difficult. But if we follow his movements for a while, we might uncover more interesting leads." Franco paused, then added:
"If you promise to work with us in the long term, I'll do my best to back you up with information."
"As long as you guys don't cross the line, I won't interfere in Velvet Circlet matters. And don't forget I'm also a member of the organization." Raven stood, adjusting his top hat with a precise, deliberate motion.
Marcellus and Selene followed him out, silent, their eyes sharp as they took in every movement. Raven's mind, however, had already shifted to the next steps: Athena's trial, his aunt's imprisonment, and reclaiming Azmar Town.
[It seems your sister is also under house arrest, so there is no way the Royal Family will allow her to go out.]
Raven's jaw tightened. Then it's time to reveal my identity.
[You mean?]
'Raven Sillalus Jorvot… During the hearing, I will appear as Raven Sillalus Jorvot and expose the Royal Family's whole scheme!' His cold gaze made Selene flinch.
"Are you all right, My Lord?" she asked, concern threading her tone.
"I'm fine. Just thinking." Raven waved dismissively.
[Reckless! You are just like my owner! Damn it, I should've known you are his next reincarnation!] Zera's voice echoed in his mind.
Listen fully, Raven thought. Before the trial, I need help from a powerful backer.
[Explain.]
'Judith, Vice President of Crow's Misery. A commoner background, now idolized, hero of my bedtime stories. A role model for my sister. That's why I asked about her.'
[But why would she help you? Didn't you hear Franco? The Wizard Union never involves itself in mortal affairs.]
Raven's lips curved into a slow, confident smile. Selene shivered as his expression flickered between calm, cunning, and almost playful.
I have the perfect bargaining chip, he thought. I'll offer her a potion recipe.
[Don't tell me! The 'Affinity Potion' recipe?] Even Zera sounded stunned.
'Yes. And it's not me—it's Charles Nightwind who will appear to have given it.' Raven's eyes glimmered with scheming light.
[Pff! Interesting! But you must be careful. Sending a letter or artifact directly is too risky. Legendary figures can see through it.]
[We need a detailed plan. To make Judith fully believe, you must impress her first.]
'Impress?' Raven echoed, a spark of mischief in his eyes.
[Did Count get impressed when you sent the gift box? Most likely not. He acted out of fear. Placement matters. Timing. Method. Everything.]
Raven nodded internally, already weaving the first threads of his strategy.
[Correct. Rattle Judith, make her believe you are a disciple of a powerful Wizard, then gain her full support.]
The carriage wheels clattered softly against Bristol Street as it came to a halt in front of the Holmes Mansion. Raven's boots touched the cobblestones, silent and deliberate, his movements precise. Marcellus and Selene mirrored his pace, following close, like shadows tethered to him.
Inside the grand foyer, Raven paused, his gaze fixing on Selene.
"Do you want to become a fully-fledged wizard?"
Selene froze. Marcellus stiffened beside her, eyes narrowing in cautious anticipation.
Before Selene could answer, Marcellus spoke, voice measured. "You don't even need to ask such a question, My Lord. Our leader tried everything—noble connections, influence, petitions—but the nobles desire not her talent but her freedom. They demanded a lifetime contract with harsh terms. And only noble households with mage bloodlines and high rank possess the elemental circlet techniques and spell models necessary for proper training."
Raven's lips curved. "What if I ask my teacher for help and become her sponsor?"
Selene blinked, flustered. "I-I don't know… Please talk to our leader. Negotiations aren't my skill."
Raven raised an eyebrow, sighing. "Once Jacob returns, tell him to visit my study. I'll talk to him." Without another word, he strode down the left corridor toward the study, his steps silent yet purposeful.
Marcellus and Selene lingered in the foyer for a heartbeat. Marcellus finally broke the quiet.
"Selene, go to Jacob's house. Tell him what happened—and bring him here if possible. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. If this Lord's teacher is a high-ranking wizard, you could become an Official Wizard within a decade."
Selene's eyes sparkled with hope. "Yes. I'll go immediately." She spun on her heels and disappeared from the mansion.
…
An hour later, Selene returned, guiding Jacob and Quincy.
"You go stay in the guest room. We'll do the talking," Quincy instructed gently. Selene nodded and silently walked away.
Jacob and Quincy approached the left corridor. Before Jacob could knock, a calm voice echoed from inside.
"Come in."
They stepped into the study. Raven sat in a wingback chair, eyes scanning a book. The second they entered, he snapped it shut and gestured to the chairs across from him.
"Please make yourselves comfortable."
Jacob and Quincy obeyed, tension visible in their postures. After a pause, Jacob's voice broke the quiet.
"Is it true? Can you help Selene become an Official Wizard, My Lord?"
Raven's smile was the only answer.
"Of course. It won't be easy, huh?" Quincy prompted, forcing a smile.
Raven leaned forward, tone deliberate. "I asked my teacher's permission. He will support her with resources, spell models, and techniques. He won't accept her as his disciple. In return, she must remain loyal to the Holmes House for 100 years. After that, she may choose to remain or leave."
Quincy's head shook in disbelief. "A 100-year contract is excessive!"
Raven's gaze remained steady. "By then, she could become an Expert Wizard. Their lifespan reaches 700 to 900 years. One hundred years of service is not unreasonable."
Jacob's frown deepened. "But that assumes she reaches Expert. What if she remains an Official Wizard?"
Raven considered briefly. "Let's adjust. She serves 30 more years if she reaches Official Wizard. Should she become an Expert later, she will serve 100 years, including the initial ten-year contract period."
Jacob's nod was firm. "Deal."
"Then I will tell Emanuel to prepare the contract. Also, my teacher requests that Selene accompany us to the capital. He wants to test her."
Jacob said nothing, silently approving the conditions. Compared to other nobles who demanded 250-year servitude—sometimes extending to descendants—this deal was merciful.
Quincy's voice broke the silence. "When do you leave?"
"Day after tomorrow. Emanuel will inform you. Prepare Selene as well," Raven answered, eyes calm, mind already elsewhere.
After Jacob and Quincy left, Raven leaned back in his chair.
So, why has Selene accompanied us to the capital?
[Hehe. She will be the key player to fool the Legendary Wizard Judith.] Zera's voice rang in his mind.
How?
[Enter the Memory Library. I'll show you.]
Raven furrowed his brows, closing his eyes. In an instant, he stood in a vast hall lined with towering bookshelves. He rotated slowly, drinking in the smell of aged parchment.
[Follow me.] A silver-haired, pointed-eared woman appeared and beckoned him toward the left aisle.
Raven's eyes traced the sections: Alchemy… Divination… Runology… Necromancy… Elementalism… Arcane Studies…
Zera glided past shelves, stopping at a collection of spellbooks. [Here are the rank-1 spellbooks. Each contains a spell model and creation instructions.]
Raven's gaze fixed on a small cupboard.
[This shelf holds Dream-related spell models.]
"Dream?" he asked, intrigued.
[Modified for Rebirth Tower students. Memorize Dream Walk, Dream Harvest, and Alter Dream. They will help Selene greatly.]
Raven paused. "But wouldn't a Legendary Mage detect Rank-1 spells easily?"
[Dream magic is exceptionally difficult. Even a Class Gem Mystic couldn't replicate these here. No Wizard can perceive the Dream World.]
He spent hours memorizing Rune Language and spell structures. By 6:30 P.M., his temples throbbed.
Too much… my head feels like it will explode.
"Emanuel!" he called.
A moment later, a young butler bowed. "You called, My Lord?"
"Arrange four train tickets to the Royal Capital on September 11th. Inform Stephanie that she will accompany us."
"Yes, My Lord. Anything else?"
"I will practice spearmanship daily. I require privacy. Is there a training space?"
Emanuel thought. "There's an empty hall on the second floor. Formerly a banquet hall, now vacant. Suitable for training."
"Good. Send dinner to the master bedroom; I'll eat late." Raven waved dismissively.
Emanuel paused, hesitated, then nodded and left.
Raven moved to the second floor, spear in hand. From 6:40 to 7:50 P.M., he drilled tirelessly in the empty hall, refining thrusts, parries, grips, and footwork. Then he retired to the bedroom, lying on the soft mattress, spear ready.
Activating Past Touch, he felt the familiar pull. Moments later, he opened his eyes to a vast grassland. A blue-skinned humanoid moved fluidly, spear slicing the air in a rhythmic pattern.
Raven mirrored the stance, creating his own spear from thin air, eyes tracking every motion. He began with basics—thrust, parry, grip, step, breathing. Hours passed as he adapted, corrected, and refined. Consecutive movements from the blue creature challenged him, but slowly, his form became almost indistinguishable.
Two hours later, Raven returned to the bedroom, spear in hand, the illusion fading. He moved to the empty hall and rehearsed the techniques learned, drilling for over three hours.
Finally, he bathed, ate the prepared meal, and lay on the bed, body exhausted but mind sharp. Sleep claimed him quietly, leaving the night in serene stillness.