—Your… airship? The man looked at the sword master, confused. In turn, the sword master asked Rue: —Do you mean that the unidentified airship outside belongs to you, Mrs. Weatherwoods?
—White body. The lower part is painted with a sky-blue band and the stern wings are blue. Isn't that right? The man opened his mouth in surprise as he addressed the sword master. —Uh, it's true. Excellency, the appearance of the airship is just as she described it.
I was as surprised as the man when I looked at Rue. He had an airship? And when did he order it? The Ragel volunteers would take seven hours to arrive, so how long before had he called for his transport? Or was it simply on standby?
—…I know it sounds tiresome, but due to the current situation, we cannot allow it to dock immediately. Please answer some questions first. Rue nodded with a face of great annoyance. It wasn't until they asked us at least 10 questions that they allowed us to leave the shelter.
Perhaps it was because Yeager and Volkwin were worried about us moving without the Viscount Weatherwoods with us, but they also followed us. It was kind of them, but still annoying.
—This is it. The man led us to the back of the villa, where there was a grass field whose end could not be seen. There was the Black Ragel, the black airship that seemed to be owned by Raphael, and a white airship I hadn't seen before.
The subsequent procedures were also very problematic. —Mrs. Weatherwoods, are you saying that Viscount Weatherwoods is currently inside the Iregiel Villa, resting, and that your ship's crew must go in to escort him to the exit? I'm sorry... but only authorized personnel can enter the villa. I'll omit the whole process that took to persuade them because it would be too long to explain it.
As I listened to them, a crew member from Rue's ship entered the villa and returned with a large piece of luggage on his back. The luggage looked suspiciously like a person wrapped in a blanket. Is that supposed to be me? Well, they couldn't see the Viscount's face that way, but still, that was a bit of a violent way to escort a noble.
—Daisy? Rue pulled my hand and brought me out of my thoughts. —It's over. At the same time, the airship's engine began to run. As the engine noise spread in all directions, the green grass and earth rose into the air like dust.
The sword master approached us and greeted Rue. —Well, Mrs. Weatherwoods, don't hesitate to call for help if you have any problems upon your return. I hope to see you again in the near future. And he tried to say goodbye to me, but was interrupted by Rue. —Come on, my dog.
Rue, holding my hand and blocking the sword master's view, began to climb a ladder connected to the airship's entrance. Yeager and Volkwin, who had been following us closely, shouted from below the ladder. —Mrs. Weatherwoods, tell Gray that we are very worried about him and that he should send us a letter when he gets better. You can direct it to the newspaper company or to the Panula mansion! —Please greet him for me too!
This was somewhat touching. But will the day ever come when Viscount Weatherwoods gets in touch with these friends of his? When Rue and I successfully boarded the ship, the door closed completely. Our long and exhausting noble council meeting had come to an end.
…was what I thought 5 minutes ago. I felt a little too relieved. Yes, the end was also a new beginning.
As I was on my way home on the ship, a strange and rare scene unfolded before my eyes. A large group of about thirty people was kneeling on the ground with their heads bowed. Like greeting a king. The words escaping their mouths were only directed to one person. Only one, Rue. In a foreign language of which I couldn't understand a single word.
The Ragel volunteers arrived at seven in the evening, a little earlier than planned. Raphael silently looked at the military ships with the royal shield. More than a dozen terrorists, of all ages, were in custody of the soldiers, with their limbs bound. As usual, immediately after asking for volunteers from Ragel, it had to conduct a brief field research. But Raphael had not yet initiated an investigation into the mental magic trap of the terrorists.
The reason was simple: it was a waste of time. Each person has at least four traces of a vow on their body. It was the first time the assassins were silenced so completely. It seemed the mastermind wanted to block possible leaks of confidentiality on all sides.
A trace of an oath. Fourteen years ago, the trace of an oath was considered as a perfect superior level magic spell that could never be reversed. This was because no one had yet discovered the method of destruction. But not now. The turning point had been the magic war. The advance of magic theory had been so tremendous since the war that even an apparently so permanent spell as a binding oath could escape its reach.
Humanity finally discovered the method to destroy them. However, this remarkable achievement had not been announced to the public. Discovered in the Ministry of Military Magic, the highly unstable method remained confidential for almost three years. During this time countless modifications and additions took place, but the arduous and intricate process of eradicating the oath trace proved to be so complicated it made one sigh.
To break a single oath, it was necessary to completely stabilize the magic flow in the subject's entire body, which required a large amount of manpower. The recruitment of mages for this was difficult at first. However, in the assassin's body and soul up to four oaths had been engraved. It would take too much time and manpower to erase the oaths one by one by the method of destruction. Furthermore, the way they had installed that magic trap over the villa previously was very professional, so the military still ignored the details of the many oath marks on their bodies as if to try to break them.
This was… —The mastermind behind this is very likely someone who knows that the military has a way to destroy the traces of an oath. The culprit is a person who knows important secrets about the Penrotta army.
Then what was the criminal's purpose? Shortly after, one of the officers leading the arrest of the terrorist approached him. —Commander-in-chief. We are ready to transport the terrorists. Twenty volunteers have also been sent to the Black Ragel and all passengers have been identified. I await your orders to depart.
—What about Duke Jurian? —Yes! He is checking the victims aboard the Black Ragel. —Then we will depart for Ragel. —Yes! Raphael was accompanied to the ship by a sergeant.
As he was not the captain of this ship, he was escorted to a private cabin where he could rest until they reached the capital. As soon as he reached the cabin, Desherro knocked on the door. —Sir, new reports have been published about Queen Island. Desherro held a letter that had arrived with the volunteers. Raphael looked with disinterested eyes at the envelope protruding before him.
—Desherro, didn't I tell you the other day that it was no longer necessary for you to report more about this matter to me? As he said this, he received the letter. His hands were relaxed while he held the already open envelope in his arms. The fact that the envelope was open meant that Desherro had already confirmed what it contained, which meant that he had also taken into account Raphael's orders when he decided to deliver it to him after all.
—Yes, you did. But I still think you should check this. Desherro's gaze was strangely determined. —The maid of Viscountess Weatherwoods you met today. Do you remember her name? He remembered a young and shy woman hiding behind a beautiful beauty. —Bertie Lucian. That was her name.
At his response, Desherro slowly moved his lips. —Do you remember? As you know, the refugees from Queen Island are becoming increasingly stable and independent thanks to the therapy sessions and vocational training offered in the refugee shelters. Among them, a man who had left the shelter some time ago visited one again recently… —Desherro, taking a deep breath, continued with a firm voice—. When he heard there was a new survivor, he was curious and asked her name, and… Bertie Lucian, he testified, is a woman who died fourteen years ago. It seems the new survivor falsified her identity.
Falsification of identity. The identity of the maid he had met seven hours ago resurfaced in Raphael's head. A woman found on Queen Island not long ago. The maid of Viscount Weatherwoods. Her real name was not Bertie Lucian. Light green eyes and brown hair. Tall for a woman.
—After obtaining his testimony, we verified the records at the personnel office in Midwinterre, which had been the first place Bertie Lucian had visited upon her arrival there. Bertie Lucian's records at the office are as follows: her name was Daisy Fager, her hometown was in the southern port and her family only consists of a younger brother.
Except for her appearance, all the information they had on Bertie Lucian was false.