A short while later. Lordi found himself seated once again in the same interrogate chamber within the Punishment Crypt where he had been questioned before.
With careful attention to detail and maintaining an appropriately deferential demeanor, Lordi recounted the general sequence of events that had unfolded inside the Hanz Clan Estate task.
Naturally, he made absolutely no mention whatsoever of the Cosmic Path Foundation Establishment Technique—that secret remained locked away where it belonged. Instead, he crafted his narrative around a story that an old enemy from Krogh Hanz's past had come seeking vengeance. This mysterious bad guy possessed the supernatural evil ability to perfectly mimic Krogh's appearance and voice, and had exploited this capability to manipulate members of the Hanz clan into turning against one another. Through this insidious deception, the evil enemy had orchestrated the complete annihilation of the entire mountain estate in a single blood-soaked night.
As for why Krogh Hanz himself had been powerless to intervene or prevent this catastrophe, Lordi explained that this clan heir had suffered crippling injuries during a failed conflict within the Vermithys. These wounds had left him completely immobilized and unable to mount any defense. The subsequent fate of his sect comrades who had arrived to do the task was similarly tragic—both Krogh Hanz and his vengeful enemy had required fresh blood essence and vital spirit energy to sustain themselves, turning the arriving cultivators into nothing more than provisions for their fierce battle hunger.
When Lordi fell silent, the only sound was the faint hum of the chamber's formations. Deacon Joe Lion sat across from him, eyes closed, his face a mask of deep contemplation. He did not move, but seemed to be weighing each word, testing the architecture of the story for cracks, for the faintest tremble of a lie.
A subordinate enforcer glided forward then, leaning close to Joe's ear. The whisper that followed was a mere breath, its contents swallowed by the room's attentive silence. Joe nodded slowly, once, twice, absorbing the intelligence. Finally, his eyes opened. They found Lordi's, holding them not with suspicion, but with the flat, analytical gaze of a man comparing two ledgers.
"The timing of when Donovan Valdez and the other death comrades' soul lamps were extinguished aligns closely with your account of events," he stated matter-of-factly. "Given this corroboration, you're cleared to return to the Affairs Office and collect your task compensation from Task Division. You're dismissed."
A wave of relief, profound and visceral, washed through Lordi's core, though he allowed only the slightest easing of his shoulders to betray it. The immediate danger had passed. As the formal tension of the inquiry dissolved, another knot of concern surfaced in his mind. Now, while the channel of communication with Sect Enforcers was still open, seemed the time to pull at a different thread.
"Esteemed Deacon Lion," Lordi ventured, his tone still respectful but touched with a deliberate, cautious curiosity. "If I may ask—what became of the situation in Lothgar City? Was it resolved finally?"
The chamber's cold air seemed to grow heavier. Joe Lion's earlier matter-of-fact demeanor vanished, replaced by a predator's stillness. His eyes narrowed into calculating slits.
"Good." The word was soft, almost conversational, yet it echoed in the sterile space. "Confess and you'll be treated leniently; resist and you'll be punished severely. Tell the truth."
Lordi's heart gave a violent, single lurch against his ribs. A cold horror, sharp as a shard of ice, shot up his throat. He swallowed it down, the effort making his jaw clench for an imperceptible instant.
Joe paused, letting the silence amplify the threat. Then, he smiled. It was a thin, humorless stretching of lips that never touched his eyes. He continued, his tone deceptively mild, almost bored.
"The Human-Faced Spider has been eliminated and is no longer a threat. As for the precise details of how events unfolded in that particular case, well…"
The head deacon waved a dismissive hand. "Chen Huant and his comrades aren't considered important enough to warrant the sect expending resources on soul-searching techniques or other invasive investigation methods to uncover the absolute truth. Based on the physical evidence and traces that remained at the scene, we're content to accept the version of events that you and the City Jarl of Lothgar presented. Let's leave it at that, shall we?"
Damn.
The realization was a cool wash following the panic.
It had been a bluff.
A masterful, pressure-applying probe designed to startle a hidden truth into the open. The Punishment Crypt didn't know; it merely suspected.
Lordi forced a short, awkward laugh that sounded hollow even to his own ears. "Oh, okay. Yeah, hmm…" He shook his head, weaving a mask of confusion. "I'm afraid I don't follow your meaning, Deacon Lion. Are you suggesting something other than what actually occurred? You know the case happened exactly as reported—nothing more, nothing less."
A knowing smile, deeper and more disquieting than the last, tugged at Joe's lips. He rose smoothly from his seat and moved to stand beside Lordi, not looking at him, but his presence looming like a monolith. His voice dropped, becoming conversational yet laden with unshakable authority.
"The seasoned investigators in my Punishment Crypt possess enough experience that we don't always need to visit crime scenes personally to reconstruct what likely transpired. We can make… educated inferences. Based on patterns. On probabilities."
He finally turned his head, his gaze a physical weight. "You and your associates handled your affairs cleanly enough that we lack sufficient evidence to invest extraordinary effort. Once or twice, such incidents can be overlooked. The natural chaos of the cultivation world, as it were."
"However, if these… irregularities… continue to accumulate around your name with suspicious frequency, you should understand that we of the Punishment Crypt do not simply sit idly by, collecting our stipends while the holy sect's laws go unaddressed. Are we perfectly clear on this matter, Outer Sect Disciple Payne?"
He did not wait for an answer. Turning on his heel, he departed with long, purposeful strides, the sound of his boots on the stone floor a definitive period to the conversation. The heavy door sealed shut behind him with a soft, final thud.
Lordi remained seated, the cold of the bench seeping through his robes. He replayed the words—patterns, probabilities, irregularities—each one a carefully placed tile in a path of warning.
Finally, he exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, composing his features into neutral placidity. He rose and made his way out of the chamber, his gait unhurried, projecting a confidence he had to consciously will into his limbs.
——
When he returned to the Task Division, the atmosphere had transformed. The disciples behind the desks no longer regarded him with curiosity or wariness, but with the efficient, somehow newly found deference reserved for someone who has just been personally processed by the Crypt and released. No questions were asked. No delays were made. The promised task compensation—Spirit $tones, contribution points—was produced and transferred with smooth, silent efficiency.
The reward came to ten thousand D-grade Spirit $tones—a fortune that would make most disciples' eyes widen with envy.
Lordi wasted no time in dividing the treasure. Seventy percent would go to him, naturally, while Ruru Rosa would receive the remaining thirty. Yet as his fingers counted out her portion, he paused. After a moment's deliberation, he retrieved an additional 2,500 Spirit $tones from her pile and transferred them to his own pouch.
The justification came easily enough. Ruru Rosa hadn't truly contributed to the mission's success, had she? Five hundred would be more than adequate compensation for her unwavering support after that unfortunate incident with Emma Dawson.
Yes, 500 D$t was generous, all things considered.
With the distribution settled, Lordi's mind turned to more pressing matters. Ruru Rosa would have sought treatment from the medical pavilion by now, which freed him to attend to other concerns. Kim Simona required checking on—he needed to assess her current state and the situation at her grotto courtyard.
The Blood Puppet Float carried him through the air in a streak of crimson light, depositing him at the secluded corner of Alchemy Peak just outside Simona's residence. He had barely produced her sect identification nameplate from his storage pouch when something made him freeze.
A pretty lady was emerging from the grotto courtyard dwelling.
She was tall and elegant, her beauty striking—purple hair swept into an elaborate high bun adorned with cloud-like ornaments, her form draped in rainbow-feathered translucent gauze that shimmered with inner radiance. A slight frown creased her delicate brows as she walked with measured grace toward the entrance.
Alarm shot through Lordi like lightning. Simona's nameplate was supposed to be the only key to her private dwelling, and that nameplate was currently clutched in his hand. So who was this woman, and how had she gained entry?
His mind raced through increasingly troubling possibilities. With practiced ease, he slipped the nameplate back into his sleeve with a flick of his wrist, then stepped forward wearing an expression of innocent curiosity.
He bowed respectfully. "Esteemed Senior Sister, I was hoping to speak with Senior Sister Kim Simona. Would now be a convenient time for a visit?"
The elegantly dressed beauty barely spared him a glance, clearly finding him beneath her notice.
"You've come seeking her elixir refinement services?" Her tone was dismissive. "Unfortunately, she's indisposed and unable to receive visitors. You'd be better served finding another alchemist."
"I see. Thank you, Senior Sister," Lordi replied, maintaining his polite demeanor even as his thoughts churned beneath the surface. "Might I ask what your relationship is with Senior Sister Kim? I don't believe we've been introduced."
"I'm her clan sister," the woman—Kim Selena—replied simply, as though that explained everything.
Without another word, her form blurred into an arc of multicolored light that shot skyward, streaking across the heavens before vanishing into the distance.
Lordi remained motionless, his expression shifting rapidly—suspicion, calculation, concern, and uncertainty all flashing across his features in quick succession.
Despite his burning desire to know what was happening inside that courtyard, caution won out over impulse. He absolutely could not risk entering now. Not under these circumstances.
After all, who could say whether this so-called Clan Sister was alertly smart enough, who had detected something wrong with Simona's condition? There might be detection arrays or trap formations waiting inside, ready to alert her the moment someone attempted unauthorized entry.
Even worse, Simona herself might already be awake, restored to consciousness and waiting like a vengeful predator in her den, ready to spring the moment he foolishly walked through that entrance.
Cold sweat traced a path down his forehead.
"I need to find Senior Brother Wexford immediately," Lordi concluded, his decision crystallizing with sudden clarity. Kim Simona's case might be known by the entire Kim Clan soon. Such situation had escalated beyond what he could safely handle alone. He required the support that only an Inner Sect Bloodline Lord could provide.
Without permitting himself any further hesitation that might lead to second-guessing, he extracted his Blood Puppet Float from his storage pouch and commanded it to convey him toward the Inner Sect territories with all possible speed.
——
The Float delivered him to Withered Orchid Villa, the private residence of Senior Brother Kinson Wexford within the vast expanse of Inner Sect lands.
Kinson had clearly just returned from some extended journey—dust still clung to his luxurious robes, and his handsome features carried the unmistakable signs of long travel.
He had barely crossed his own threshold when the defensive wards surrounding his villa detected an approaching visitor. Forming hand seals to activate the observation formations, he peered through the arrays to identify his caller. The moment recognition dawned, his face split into a broad, genuine smile of delight.
The Bloodline Lord immediately dispelled the protective barriers and strode out personally to greet his guest, rather than making him wait at the entrance like a common supplicant.
"Junior Brother Payne!"
"Ha! Your timing is absolutely perfect—I was just about to send a messenger to summon you!" Kinson's booming laugh filled the villa courtyard as he approached with arms spread wide in welcome. He clapped Lordi firmly on the shoulder with enough force to stagger a less sturdy cultivator, his enthusiasm completely unrestrained.
"Listen! I have extraordinarily good news to share with you, the kind of magnificent, abyss-sent opportunity that only comes along once in a lifetime!"
Lordi felt his carefully prepared explanations and concerns scatter like leaves in a windstorm, thrown off balance by this senior brother's unexpected exuberance.
Collecting himself quickly, he responded with matching joyful surprise on the face and a slight urgency, "Wow Senior Brother Wexford, that's ur… remarkable, truly—but this humble one also has something critically important that requires your honored attention and counsel immediately!"