Chapter 520 : Confrontation

During the daytime, dark clouds loomed over Kankdal, and the raging sea wind swept across the harbor. The crashing waves pounded the shoreline, and the rolling surf made the docked ships sway and rock. Under the gloomy sky, the vitality of the entire city of Kankdal seemed to diminish noticeably.

Against the battering wind, a convoy of carriages traveled along the wide road toward the harbor. Before long, they arrived at the dock.

As the convoy came to a halt, the carriage doors opened one after another. Many guards dressed in city garrison uniforms stepped out. The lead captain, Hajetta, quickly approached the largest carriage. Personally opening its door, he helped the well-dressed Robert down. Supported by a maid and leaning on a cane, Robert looked every bit like a man still recovering from a serious illness.

Not far from Robert’s carriage, the door of another, more luxurious coach opened. Wearing a turban, sporting a thick beard, and dressed in an opulent traditional North Ufigan robe, Prince Ma’ad of the Baruch royal family stepped out. After adjusting his attire, he looked ahead—where the towering black hull of a massive ship awaited: the Scourge of Flame, the prison ship of the Church’s Inquisition.

As Ma’ad examined the nearly 20,000-ton, over-a-hundred-meter-long dark vessel—faintly reeking of burnt odor—he couldn’t help but feel a wave of pressure settle in his chest. He then turned to join Robert, and just at that moment, a team of church clerics dressed in Inquisition robes descended the gangway of the Scourge of Flame. Reaching Robert and Ma’ad, the leading cleric bowed and said,

“Thank you both for coming. His Excellency Clifton is awaiting you onboard.”

“Oh? Very well, lead the way.”

Robert responded softly with a smile. Leaving most of the guards behind, he brought only Hajetta, Ma’ad, and a few close attendants as they followed the clerics aboard the Scourge of Flame.

Once aboard, they were led through the ship’s narrow and stifling passageways, heavy with rust and other indistinct smells, before finally arriving at a spacious hall. At the center, seated on a high platform, was the bald-headed Inquisitor Clifton, flanked by several clerics clad in black-and-red robes and veiled faces. On either side of the hall were two rows of seats, and in one of them, dressed in white nun’s robes, sat Sister Vania—visibly nervous as she looked around.

“Heh… Didn’t expect Sister Vania to arrive before us. What can you do? Injuries really do make moving around inconvenient,” Robert chuckled as he looked at her.

Clifton, seated above, glanced at Robert and spoke.

“Mr. Robert, Prince Ma’ad, thank you for coming. Please take your seats over there.”

He gestured to the seats opposite Vania. The two nodded and made their way to the indicated spot and sat down.

Once everyone was seated, Clifton cleared his throat slightly and began,

“The reason we’ve gathered today is that Sister Vania’s side has presented a key piece of evidence in the investigation into the attempted assassination of Prince Mazarr. This evidence implicates both Mr. Robert, leader of Kankdal’s municipal government, and Prince Ma’ad of the Baruch royal family. We’ve asked you here to confirm this evidence.”

“Oh? Key evidence? Sister Vania, what have you brought? What exactly are you trying to prove with it?” Robert asked with interest, his eyes drifting toward Vania. Taking a deep breath, Vania replied.

“What I hope to prove is that I… and my guards—those who accompanied me to Yadith and endured life-and-death trials with me—our envoy delegation has no ties to the heretics. We had nothing to do with Prince Mazarr’s death. We are innocent.”

“You hope to prove your entire envoy is innocent? Heh… Sister Vania, that might be a little difficult. One of your guards attempted assassination and failed—you were the one who stopped him. Now you’re speaking in their defense—aren’t you worried it’ll drag you down too?”

Robert said lightly, and Vania quickly responded.

“If we are truly innocent, then what is there to fear? As the envoy leader, I have the duty to help clear the others’ names. And the evidence I’ve brought can do just that.”

“Then, Sister Vania, what exactly is this evidence of yours?”

“It’s this…”

The response came from Clifton on the platform. He waved his hand, and several clerics entered the hall carrying a large board covered with a white cloth. Judging from its outline, something—or someone—was lying underneath.

“This is…”

Robert muttered curiously. Clifton then announced plainly.

“This is the body of Prince Mazarr, brought by Sister Vania’s faction.”

“Oh… So this is Prince Mazarr’s body. I was wondering where it disappeared after it was stolen from the public hall. Turns out Sister Vania took it…”

Robert replied with a trace of surprise in his tone.

On the other hand, Ma’ad slammed the armrest of his seat, shouting in anger.

“To steal the prince’s remains—this is outrageous! Sister Vania, such base and shameless behavior is unworthy of a holy servant of the Church! If you don’t give us, the Baruch royal family, an explanation today, this won’t stand!”

His furious accusation startled Vania, who instinctively wanted to defend herself. But before she could speak, a translucent phantom began to appear beside her.

“To steal the body of a royal… indeed, this goes against the teachings of our Lord. It is not something Their servants should do. But… if such an act can uncover hidden truths and clear the names of the innocent, then surely our Lord would forgive it.”

With a soft feminine voice, the transparent projection of Sister Ivy materialized beside Vania. Ma’ad was momentarily stunned by her appearance, unsure how to respond, while Robert simply continued to smile.

"Ah… so it’s Sister Ivy. I’ve long heard that for the sake of Sister Vania’s safety, Lady Amanda personally sent you here. My apologies—I was injured during the assassination attempt and haven’t had the chance to properly pay my respects.”

“You’re not too late to do so now. Let’s return to the point. We brought Prince Mazarr’s body here because we discovered a significant clue. If the clue proves useless, we’ll of course offer restitution to the Baruch. There’s no need to get so worked up.”

Seated beside Vania, Ivy calmly spoke to Ma’ad. Her gaze alone made Ma’ad freeze, then he stammered on.

“T-then… Sister Ivy, this clue you mentioned on His Highness’s body, what exactly is it—?”

“There are lethal quantities of poison present in Prince Mazarr’s blood. Yet, according to Mr. Robert’s city garrison, Mazarr died from gunshot wounds by an assassin. Ordinarily, gunshot wounds don’t leave behind large amounts of toxins in a corpse, do they? Unless the bullets were specially made to carry venom? And if that were the case, why did the garrison’s death report fail to mention poison at all?”

Facing everyone present, Ivy laid out her words directly. Ma’ad looked around nervously, clearly shaken. Clifton remained silent, while Robert responded with a faint smile.

“There’s poison in Prince Mazarr’s body… Sister Ivy, are you implying that His Highness didn’t die from gunshots, but rather from poisoning?” Robert said with a knowing tone.

Seeing Ivy’s silence, as if confirming his assumption, he continued.

“After Prince Mazarr was attacked, my people were in charge of his medical treatment. If someone did poison him, it must’ve happened then. So—are you implying, Sister Ivy, that I ordered the prince’s death? You’re not seriously planning to accuse us with the poison found in his body, are you?”

There was a subtle edge to Robert’s words, as if daring them to use the poison as grounds for accusation. But Ivy didn’t respond directly to him—instead, she asked another question.

“If the poison in Prince Mazarr’s body wasn’t administered during treatment… then where did it come from?”

Hearing Ivy’s question, Robert’s expression darkened. He stared at the two nuns and replied.

“Ah… I’m not sure why the two of you have suddenly developed such hostility toward me. But don’t forget—Prince Mazarr’s body wasn’t just in contact with my people… it was also touched by yours. So, isn’t it also possible… that the poison came from your side?”

“Oh… what a bold speculation. And what evidence do you have for such a claim, Mr. Robert?” Ivy replied with polite curiosity.

Robert answered without hesitation.

“Heh… merely a guess on my part, of course. But the basis for such a guess could be found through further testing of the prince’s body. I think this kind of testing is best left to the professionals, don’t you agree, Inquisitor Clifton?”

As he said this, Robert turned his gaze to Clifton, who had remained silent atop the platform until now. Feeling Robert’s stare, Clifton slowly spoke.

“The toxicology report on Prince Mazarr’s blood began before this meeting started. By now, the results should be ready…”

Just then, a cleric entered the hall, walked over to Clifton, bowed, and respectfully spoke.

“Your Excellency, the toxicology report on Prince Mazarr’s blood has been completed.”

“State the results.”

“Yes. According to our findings, we detected a large quantity of toxin in Prince Mazarr’s corpse. The toxin has been identified as venom from the Sandscale Spotted Viper, a species native to Northern Ufiga.”

The cleric respectfully reported while holding the test results. Upon hearing this, Clifton turned his head toward Robert and said.

“Oh… so there really was poison? Then does that mean Prince Mazarr didn’t die from gunshots, but from poisoning?”

“No, not necessarily,” the cleric replied.

“We also discovered something else. The toxin in the subject’s blood was far too abundant and not well-integrated with his blood. The blood and the toxin are separate—just mixed together. This is not the typical symptom of someone who died from Sandscaled Spotted Viper venom. Such a result could only occur if the poison were injected after death.”

Holding the report, the cleric continued his briefing. Silence fell over the hall. Everyone was momentarily speechless. The smile on Robert’s lips grew ever so faintly deeper.

“Heh. As you all heard, though there is poison in the prince’s blood, he didn’t die from it—it was injected into his body after death. And yet, you two nuns want to accuse me based on this? Isn’t that a bit… unconvincing?”

Robert said with composure after the report. On the other side, Ma’ad abruptly stood up from his seat, clutching his face and sobbing loudly.

"This—this is outrageous…! Not only did the nuns of the Radiance Church steal the corpse of one of our own, but they went so far as to defile it in such a vile manner! His Highness the Prince was murdered by heretics, and now the people of the Church insult his remains like this! It is truly disheartening… Inquisitor Clifton, you must give us an explanation for this…”

Weeping, Ma’ad turned to Clifton on the central platform and dropped to his knees, sobbing in desperation. Clifton turned with a solemn expression toward Ivy and Vania, then spoke in a cold, measured tone.

“Prince Mazarr’s corpse was poisoned post-mortem after falling into Sister Vania’s hands… Not only did you steal the body, Sister Vania, you defiled it and tried to frame another. Sister Vania… your actions are a stain upon the Church!”

Clifton’s voice rang out sharply, causing Vania to instinctively shrink back into her chair. After lashing out at her, Clifton then turned toward Ivy.

“Sister Ivy! In light of such evidence, do you still intend to blindly shield Sister Vania?! If you persist in your obstinance, I will have no choice but to report today’s events to the Cardinal Council! When that happens, not only will Sister Vania be implicated—Lady Amanda herself will be placed in a very difficult position! I urge you, Sister Ivy, open your eyes to the facts and uphold justice!”

Clifton spoke sternly. But Ivy, unfazed, replied calmly and clearly.

“Inquisitor Clifton, Mr. Robert, Prince Ma’ad… Have you perhaps misunderstood something? Did I ever say that the poison in Mazarr’s body was the evidence we brought forward?”

Her words caused everyone in the hall to pause. A strange look swept across their faces. Robert narrowed his eyes and questioned her again.

“But it was you who said the prince’s corpse contained poison…”

“Yes, I did say that,” Evi replied evenly.

“But I never said that was the evidence I intended to present. That was your own assumption—and your own investigation.”

Clifton’s brow furrowed.

“Then what is the evidence you speak of, Sister Ivy? If it’s not the poisoned blood, what could possibly prove Mazarr’s death has nothing to do with the envoy party?”

“Why, Mazarr himself, of course.”

Ivy’s answer was still calm. The hall fell into stunned silence. Robert and Ma’ad exchanged glances. Clifton was the first to recover.

“Mazarr himself? But he’s dead! How do you expect a dead man to speak?!”

“That’s simple. We use soul-calling. Inquisitor Clifton, you can have one of your people summon Prince Mazarr’s spirit using his body as the medium. Ask the prince himself what happened before his death. Surely a grand vessel like the Scourge of Flame has a Silence Beyonder who can perform a summoning?”

“Summoning? Hah, don’t be ridiculous, Sister Ivy. Mazarr has been dead for a week. His soul has already sunk past the Realm of No Return. There’s no bringing him back now!”

“And how would we know that unless we try? If you refuse to summon him, Inquisitor, I do have someone who can.”

Seeing how far Ivy had pushed the matter, Clifton couldn’t easily refuse. He finally relented.

“Fine. If you insist, we’ll try a summoning and see if anything comes of it.”

He turned to his subordinates and ordered the preparations. Soon, a spirit medium aboard the Scourge of Flame arrived and began drawing a summoning circle.

As the summoning circle was laid out, Ma’ad—still wiping away tears—cast a nervous glance at Robert. Robert returned a calm, reassuring look before turning his gaze toward the scene in the hall. The ritual circle was quickly completed. Prince Mazarr’s corpse was laid at its center, and the ritual began.

As the medium chanted incantations, waves of spirituality rippled outward. Everyone in the hall turned their attention to the ceremony, eyes fixed in silent anticipation.

Gradually, a translucent figure began to materialize over the cloth-covered platform—a robed, rotund form. His face slowly became clear, and it was unmistakably Prince Mazarr.

“Ah! How is this possible?!”

The hall erupted. Hajetta froze where he stood. Ma’ad screamed and jumped to his feet in shock. Clifton’s brow creased into a scowl. Robert’s expression darkened like thunder.

Suddenly, Robert slapped the stunned Hajetta on the back. Jolted into motion, Hajetta’s eyes snapped to the spirit forming before him. With a grimace, he drew two sigils and charged forward.

“Lords, beware! That’s an evil spirit! Seal it and banish it now!”

He shouted as he charged the spirit of Mazarr. Several priests near Clifton made to stop him, but Clifton himself held them back. No one moved to stop Hajetta.

Ivy, seated until then, stood sharply. Her gaze locked onto Hajetta, and her pupils shimmered faintly with light.

At the same moment, above the Scourge of Flame docked at the pier, under storm-darkened skies, a single beam of blinding golden radiance pierced the clouds.

Like a divine lance, it shot down from the heavens and struck the Scourge of Flame. The ship’s emergency defenses activated instantly—scriptures lit up along the hull, and a fiery red-orange shield encapsulated the vessel.

But the descending light shattered the shield like glass. Without resistance, it punched through the Scourge of Flame’s layers of armor and burst into the hall below, striking Hajetta squarely as he charged.

He didn’t even have time to scream.

He was vaporized in an instant.

The beam kept going—drilling through the remaining decks, through the ship’s bottom, and vanishing into the sea.