“From your description, this should be the one.”
Returning from the secret archives, Ina pulled out a wanted notice.
After a brief chant of a light, lilting spell, the old parchment shimmered, and a lifelike portrait of a woman emerged.
Her eyes glared with open contempt at the group, her movements vulgar and insolent, as though the word defiance had been carved into her face.
Loki had a wanted poster too—but his was of far greater scale and refinement, so much so that horns and fangs had been added, twisting him into the image of a bloodthirsty demon. To the uninformed, he would seem more the leader of the Hand of Truth than this witch.
“Witch Reis,” Ina explained. “Former student of the Witches’ Academy of Kainashir. Expelled for misconduct that caused casualties and major property damage. Escaped from a special prison. Bounty: two hundred thousand gold pounds.”
“The Church reports say the Academy suffers a lot of ‘accidents’ due to misconduct.”
Céline raised a brow.
“What exactly are you people doing in there?”
“We tend to describe corruption and betrayal with softer words, so our students don’t grow timid in their practice.”
Ina crossed her arms, meeting Céline’s gaze unflinchingly.
“After all, meddling with the Sea of Souls and drawing extraordinary power always comes at a price. The High Ones aren’t philanthropists tossing coins into your bowl whenever you rattle it.”
She added with a barbed little smile:
“If I recall, the situation in your Church is even worse, isn’t it?”
“Yes. And honestly, I wish it were worse still. The names on the lists can hardly keep up with how fast I’m dealing with them.”
Céline agreed cheerfully, and whether by accident or intent, tugged lightly on Loki’s arm.
“After all, when I go on my honeymoon with my future husband, I don’t want to be bored. Imagine it—slaying heretics and traitors side by side with the one I love, until the very ends of the earth. Isn’t that romantic?”
“H—huh? Wha—what on earth are you even talking about!?”
Loki ignored the odd banter between the two girls.
His eyes flicked from the witch’s portrait to Selene.
Her usually gentle face wavered with unease, her gaze darting in panic at the wanted notice. It was clear she had met this woman recently.
As Selene realized Loki was watching her, she turned sharply away.
So he asked outright.
“Miss Selene. Have you met her?”
“Uh—!”
Startled by Loki addressing her, the girl sat bolt upright, like a fresh graduate thrust into a high-stakes job interview.
Ironically, those from influential families feared and revered Loki most. His old reputation as the Hand of Truth’s lapdog had its advantages.
Though Loki had no intent to intimidate her, the tales of his exploits—embellished beyond belief—often drove imaginations wild. Many half-expected him to erupt in slaughter at any moment.
Fortunately, Selene quickly gathered herself. After all, rumors were only rumors. No matter how absurd, he wouldn’t suddenly sprout dragon wings and breathe fire.
“…Last week, when I visited my uncle’s estate, I saw this woman there. She seemed to have been invited to help with something.”
Selene placed a hand over her chest as if steadying herself.
“She even came over to speak with me. She didn’t seem unusual at all. I never imagined she could be so dangerous…”
This drew the attention of both Céline and Ina.
Despite their constant bickering, they shared the same thought now—how is she still alive?
Ina sighed and shook her head, patting her friend’s shoulder.
“You’re just an ordinary rich girl, Selene. There’s no way you could pick out the corrupted ones—they mask themselves as normal until the crucial moment, when the mask finally slips.”
Only then did Selene grasp how narrowly she had brushed against death. She shuddered involuntarily.
But Loki pressed on without pause.
“Your uncle—who is he?”
“Ah—he’s… Baron Freman. A member of Kaisania’s City Council.”
“I see. And your family?”
“My father is an officer in the Knight Order, my mother works with a large trading company. I have several brothers and sisters besides myself…”
Selene hunched her shoulders under the weight of three pairs of eyes. She glanced pleadingly at Ina, who returned a steady look: Answer him as he asks.
It wasn’t betrayal—it was protection.
“Um, Mister Loki… Do you need more detailed information? If it’s something I know, I’ll do my best to tell you…”
She was far too accommodating.
Loki didn’t doubt that if he asked her for her body measurements, she’d not only recite them in full but volunteer a few more private details best left unsaid.
“Did you overhear what they discussed?”
“Uh… something about a development project in part of Kaisania. I think I caught mention of the Tribunal, but I didn’t understand the rest.”
“Oh~”
Céline whistled and covered her mouth with a laugh.
“Now that’s an interesting lead, Loki.”
“….”
Loki gave her a weary look.
“Céline, earlier you said you wanted to take me on a trip down memory lane. Did you already know?”
“Of course not! I was only guessing. Who knew I’d actually be right?”
“What are you two whispering about?”
Feeling excluded, Ina leaned in, suspicious, trying to catch their words.
But Céline just waved her off like a fly.
“Ah, that’s between me and Loki. Nothing to do with you, little witch.”
Why you—!
Ina was about to snap back, but Selene interrupted at just the right moment.
“Um, Mister Loki, I’ve been wondering… has something happened?”
It seemed the news had been tightly sealed.
Baron Freman’s incident at noon should have reached family ears immediately. Judging from Selene’s expression, she knew nothing.
Loki didn’t mind telling her.
“Your uncle—Baron Freman—was attacked at noon today by this witch.”
He pointed to the wanted poster.
“She was likely acting under the orders of the Hand of Truth. And I’m here to track her down.”
“It’s we, thank you.”
Céline puffed her cheeks in protest.
“The… the Hand of Truth…?”
Both Ina and Selene instinctively looked at Loki.
The young man sighed and raised his hands.
“Sorry to disappoint you. This time, I’m not on their side.”