Harper Cemetery, near Blackhead District.
Tap! Tap! Whoosh!
Under the relentless downpour and heavy grey clouds, a crowd gathered around the coffin of a short man with brown hair and a slightly round stomach, smiling faintly in the portrait beside him. The mourners' gazes were downcast and solemn, and the surroundings carried a faint hint of lavishness.
The Minister sighed deeply before beginning his prayers, his voice carrying softly through the rain. Patricia stood close to the coffin, her eyes red and wet, dabbing at them with a handkerchief from time to time. She wore black from head to toe, a stark contrast against the grey sky.
Quiet murmurs and glances passed among the crowd, many fixed on Patricia. She had just lost her husband… and her son, and the grief she carried was impossible to hide.
...
Not long after, the pallbearers carried the coffin toward the grave, accompanied by a sad and solemn melody that seemed to echo in the rainy air. Patricia had chosen a private funeral for the Joshua family, rather than a public one with shared food and a more celebratory atmosphere.
The secluded setting allowed them to select a spacious spot near Harper Cemetery, giving the ceremony room to breathe until the burial's final moments.
As the coffin was lowered into the grave, a heavy silence fell over the crowd. Patricia could no longer hold back her grief. She pressed her hand to her mouth and quickly scurried away, tears streaming freely down her face.
...
From the TV in a darkened living room, the scene played out, the volume suddenly cranked up as the rain outside intensified. A hand—a girl's hand with short yellow hair, no older than fifteen—reached quickly for the remote.
She turned to her right to face a man with balding hair and a full beard.
"Dad… so our Duke has… died?" she asked cautiously.
The man, reading a newspaper, sighed heavily. "You've seen it. Honestly… I just don't understand Betyl anymore."
"Why, Dad?" she pressed, remembering how long it had been since the last curse had struck.
He shook his head slowly. "It's… everything—both physical and economic." He paused, frowning. "We never know if we're truly safe. Even the economy… the inflation, the new currency… Soon, I might have to travel to the Southern Lands."
The girl tilted her head thoughtfully. "So… you prefer the place dominated by the Linktons?"
He chuckled lightly. "Yes. My friend went there and loved it. Don't worry—I'll take you and your mother there once I've saved enough."
The girl smiled faintly before turning back to the TV. "Dad… what do you think they'll do about this matter?"
The man's brow furrowed as he lifted the newspaper to his face. "According to the news… the Church of Skywalker's Exorcism Faculty is working alongside the police on this investigation." He rubbed his chin, a small smile forming. "It's… surprising, really. Sorcerers actually helping the police, hehe."
The daughter rubbed her chin, thinking. "Did they mention any names?"
"Oh…" the father murmured, scanning the paper. "There's one named Hargreaves… another named Vincent… and one…"
Eager for the last name, the girl raised her voice slightly. "And one?"
He chuckled, finally meeting her gaze. "The last… his name is Lumian Ward."
...
Everise Street, the King's Mansion.
Rain poured steadily outside, punctuated by the occasional rumble of thunder. Inside, a girl with black hair and dark eyes sat at a chair, focused on a notebook.
"Hmm… this math problem is even harder than I thought!" Catherine muttered, frowning.
She was still a student, having just started university and studying engineering. Her pencil hovered over the page.
"2 + X… derivative? How did they even arrive at this answer?"
After about thirty minutes of struggling, she slammed the book shut with a sigh.
Standing, she glanced around her room and began tidying the scattered clothes on her bed.
She gave herself a small, self-deprecating smile. "Not every princess gets to live this kind of life… hehe."
Once done, she dusted her hands off and bent down to reach under her bed. With a careful hand, she pulled out a golden map.
...
She placed the golden map on her lap and sat back in the chair, pencil in hand, tracing its lines carefully. "I think I'll need to send spies to Phitopia and Elitana," she murmured. "The way sorcerers are migrating to other lands is… alarming. First it was Berolina, now Phitopia and Elitana."
"This is exactly why I need to act quickly to dismantle the Linkton family. By placing agents in their three cities—Phitopia, Elitana, and Beridon—I can create disruptions there and minimize their economic influence."
She paused, pressing the pencil lightly against her lips, thinking. "For now, the Linktons remain a serious threat to the land of Betyl."
Just then, a sharp knock echoed from her door, startling her.
...
She quickly slid the map to the back of her table before walking to the door.
"Who's there?" she asked.
A soft voice replied from the other side. "It's Gloria. Your father is calling for you, Lady Catherine."
"Alright, I'll be right there," Catherine answered before opening the door.
Seeing her, the maid immediately curtsied. "Good evening, Lady Catherine."
Catherine smiled gently. "Good evening, Gloria."
Following the venerable order, Catherine possessed the ability to perceive people's true motives and future intentions. Yet Gloria's thoughts had always remained pure.
As they descended the stairs, Catherine glanced at the maid and asked, "So… why is Father calling me?"
...
"Haven't you heard the recent news, Lady Catherine?" Gloria asked with a teasing chuckle.
"I thought you were supposed to be very informative."
"I've been rather busy," Catherine replied lightly.
Just then, thunder cracked outside, and the lights flickered off, making Catherine jump slightly.
Gloria, having expected this, calmly held up a candle and lit it with a flick of her lighter.
"Lady Catherine, why are you scared? Aren't you a sorcerer?" she asked with a knowing smile.
Catherine chuckled softly as they continued down the stairs. Since her mother had passed away four years ago, Catherine chose to become a sorcerer, and protect her family. She was already a Phase 8.
Gloria, in many ways, had become a mother figure to her, though Catherine knew the other maids often envied—or even despised—her.
...
"So… what exactly happened?" Catherine asked, feeling quite curious.
"Well, if you really want to know," Gloria said with a chuckle, "Duke Joshua recently passed away. I think your father wants you to meet with the other parties of the land."
"Is that so…" Catherine murmured thoughtfully.
They soon reached the bottom of the stairs. Gloria curtsied gracefully one last time.
"Goodbye, Lady Catherine," she said, before walking off and leaving Catherine alone with the candle.
The lower floor was dimly lit, though faint light filtered through the curtains from the windows.
Having lived in the palace for so long, Catherine moved confidently, the candle casting a soft glow as she made her way to the guest door. With a careful hand, she opened it softly and stepped inside.
...
Opening the door, Catherine noticed two men seated on single couches beside her father. A candle stood on the table between them, its small flame pushing back the darkness.
She stepped forward and gave a respectful curtsey beside her father. "Good evening, Dad."
Turning to the others, she added politely, "Good evening, sirs."
The man with the tattered hair smiled. "Good evening, Princess."
Catherine moved to the remaining chair and sat down, crossing her legs so the four chairs formed a small square.
As the King began speaking, Catherine quietly observed everyone's movements.
Through her ability, she could already sense that their motives toward the land were far from pure.
When her father finished speaking, she calmly asked, "So, Dad… Duke Joshua has died?"
Matthew raised his brows slightly and turned toward her. "You didn't know? I thought you had already heard."
He paused before continuing, his voice softening. "I was rather saddened when I heard the news. He had served with us for four years now. May Skywalker guide his soul."
Lowering his head briefly, he recited a small prayer before sighing and gesturing toward the two men. "You know how the economy has been lately. We need to appoint a new Duke as soon as possible. These gentlemen represent some of the parties running."
Catherine nodded slightly but thought inwardly,
This kingdom… the Duke died only three days ago, and they're already moving on without him.
Her gaze swept across the room again. Through her sight, she saw the two men glowing faintly red, grotesque smiling faces lurking behind them.
Only her father was different. He glowed with a soft white light, and behind him appeared a calm, angelic figure.
Catherine looked at him with a puzzled expression, not quite understanding how his intention could shift from time to time.
For a brief moment, she even wondered if he might be developing a slight dementia.
She smiled politely and clasped her hands together.
"Dad, remember the secret organization you told me to contact and get a proposal from? I recently reached out to them."
...
"Oh… the Watchers' Lounge."
Before the King could say anything further, the man with the large stomach—dressed in a black suit and hat—spoke up. "Your Majesty, why would you need a secret organization?"
King Mathew raised an eyebrow before replying calmly. "Well, it's mostly for my protection… and the protection of the kingdom—if they are capable of such a thing."
He leaned back slightly before continuing.
"I was previously working with another organization, but I heard they have aligned themselves with the Linktons. So Lady Catherine here has brought forward a new one."
The man with the tattered hair nodded slowly. "But are you certain this new organization Lady Catherine mentioned is actually better?"
Sensing his meaning, the King replied quickly. "It is better. Far better."
For a brief moment, he remembered the servant who had tried to locate the leader—only to suddenly run mad during the attempt.
"Especially their leader," the King added. "One of my servants attempted to find him… yet he ran mad for a moment."
"Is that so…" the tattered-haired man murmured thoughtfully.
"Of course," the King said confidently. "He even has a title."
He rubbed his chin for a moment before turning toward Catherine. "My dear… what was his title again?"
...
Catherine chuckled quietly to herself. She couldn't help but find it amusing how fully her father believed the exaggerated description.
Clearing her throat lightly, she spoke. "He is the Beyond—the one who gazes into infinites, the one who looks into definite possibilities. The ruler of the White Kingdom… the one who dispels misfortune and brings fortune."
King Mathew chuckled in satisfaction. "You see? Even his title carries weight, hehe."
The man with the large stomach frowned slightly before asking, "But Your Majesty, I thought you already had a sorcerer guarding you—a Phase 6, at that. Isn't he enough?"
The man with the tattered hair nodded in agreement. "Mr. Shadow, correct? He's already among the highest phases known."
King Mathew leaned back slightly and scoffed. "You think one person alone can truly protect a king? In a world that is constantly changing, one must be thoroughly prepared."
The two men nodded in reluctant agreement.
As for Catherine, she had never particularly liked Mr. Shadow. Something about him always felt… off.
Yet with her ability, she couldn't sense any malicious intention directed toward her. Any hostile thought aimed at her could easily be traced back to the kingdom itself.
And by that measure, Mr. Shadow appeared completely clean.
...
Catherine stood up from her seat. "Dad, is that all you wanted to tell me?" she asked.
The King paused for a moment, thinking, before suddenly speaking again. "Oh! That's right. What about the proposition from that organization?"
Catherine replied as she began walking toward the door. "They said they need royal passes, so they can avoid unnecessary bureaucracy. They also suggested that you connect them together with the other high families."
"You mean… we should spread their name?" the King asked.
Catherine nodded as she reached the door and opened it softly.
Before leaving, she turned back and said calmly, "And Dad… those people won't help the land. They'll only destroy it further. But well… it's up to the people's decision."
With that, she stepped outside and gently closed the door behind her.
"What…?" the King muttered, slightly startled.
He glanced at the two men sitting across from him, but his thoughts quickly drifted back to his daughter.
Ever since her mother had died four years ago, Catherine had insisted on becoming a sorcerer. Though he knew how dangerous that path could be, he had eventually allowed it. She had begged him endlessly… even threatening to leave the palace if he refused.
In the end, he had spent a considerable amount of money—gathering rare ingredients and hiring a powerful sorcerer to guide her through the potion ritual.
Through all of it…
He had only wanted one thing.
For his daughter to grow up well.
...
Lamenti, Moonlight Watchers Faculty.
Inside the faculty building, a television flickered quietly as Lumian watched the news. The reporter was broadcasting the funeral of Duke Joshua.
After a moment, Lumian sighed and turned the TV off.
He then looked toward Hargreaves, who had just stepped out of a nearby office. The two of them stood in the waiting room while the steady sound of rain pattered against the windows outside.
Lumian exhaled softly. "Captain… I feel a little bad for Patricia."
Hargreaves sighed and shook his head. "Me too. But we still need to continue this investigation."
Lumian nodded before asking, "But Captain, what about Lacey's body? They still haven't come to claim it."
"Yes," Hargreaves replied. "They insisted on burying the Duke first. Apparently, it was more politically beneficial."
Lumian nodded slowly.
Just then, Hargreaves' phone began to ring.
He picked up the call and exchanged a few quiet words. After a moment, he ended the call and turned toward Lumian.
"Lumian… the graveyarder just called."
Lumian raised a brow. "What did he say?"
Hargreaves' expression grew serious.
"He said he has a very big lead."