Chapter 203
“Did you find it?”
An old man sitting in a leather chair in a beautifully decorated office questioned the middle-aged woman in front of him. The dim light from the chandelier overhead cast shadows across the polished wood, giving the room a somber yet grand ambiance. The office was lavish yet subdued, its decorations reflecting both wealth and power without being ostentatious.
Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with ancient texts and artifacts, each one a silent testament to the elder’s influence.
“Elder, the person who issued the mission has already been taken into custody, and upon investigation, he confessed that he was unaware the other party was a main heir of the clan.”
The old man raised a brow at her words and could not help but frown. The deepening lines on his face looked like cracks in stone, a testament to years of hardened authority. The lines on his face deepened, his expression hardening as he absorbed the information.
“He didn’t know who the other party was and still issued the mission?” he asked coldly. There was an icy sharpness in his tone, each word calculated to pierce through the woman’s calm exterior. His voice had an icy edge to it, each word cutting through the air like a blade.
The middle-aged woman calmly explained, “Yes, elder. It’s as illogical as you think; however, we have ‘properly’ and ‘thoroughly’ investigated the man.” Her tone was measured, carefully choosing her words to hint at the darker methods of interrogation used.
Upon hearing the woman’s words, which carried a hidden meaning, the old man wore a thoughtful look. His fingers tapped lightly against the arm of his chair as he considered her statement, the implication not lost on him.
He knew better than anyone how terrifying the clan’s interrogation force was. Even the strongest would immediately cower and beg to confess everything.
The memory of past sessions flickered in his mind—screams, broken wills, and secrets dragged out under duress.
They were quite notorious in the clan, and it was known that even elders could not easily resist their interrogation. The memory of past interrogations flickered through his mind, a grim reminder of the power the clan held over its members.
“So? What is your conclusion?” he asked, wondering why the woman had come to him. She was only ordered to appear before him after she had figured out who the person was and why he did what he did.
His tone was clipped, expecting efficiency. He didn’t have time for anything less than clear answers.
“Yes, I have concluded that young master Oliver used an artifact when he appeared in the mission hall.” The woman’s eyes gleamed with certainty as she revealed her findings, her voice steady, unshaken by the elder’s imposing demeanor.
“An artifact?” The elder raised a brow; this was something he had also suspected after hearing the woman’s words. His curiosity piqued, though his face remained as unreadable as stone.
“A decent artifact. I believe its functions were primarily focused on stealth and deception, which enabled the young master to sneak out of the clan as well.” Her explanation was concise, but beneath her calm exterior, she felt a slight tension, knowing that the elder expected nothing short of precision.
“Hmm.” The elder simply hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. “From what I heard from my subordinate, that does seem to be the case. She was the first to see through his cover; however, young master ordered her not to interfere and to leave. He had also told her that he would return after finishing his ‘work,’ which, obviously, he didn’t do.”
By “subordinate,” he was referring to the exorcist woman Oliver had met earlier, who had seen through his disguise at the time. As expected, she ratted him out as soon as she left.
“Yes, elder. What are your orders?” the woman asked, seeking guidance on her next course of action.
Her voice was measured, betraying none of the nervousness she felt standing before such a powerful figure.
“The great elder is in seclusion at the moment, so we cannot disturb him. I dare not inform Madam Ophelia about this matter either, lest I face her wrath. Our first objective is to locate young master Oliver.”
He paused, picking up a pen and scribbling some words on a nearby sheet of paper.
The scratching of the pen was sharp in the still air, the elder’s focus on the note uninterrupted.
“The mission assigned to the young master by the clan administration was to eradicate some demonic ghosts in this city. Assuming he left some days ago, he should have arrived by now. Dispatch a team to find young master and bring him back as soon as possible.”
He spoke sternly as he stroked his beard.
“Understood, elder.”
The woman responded seriously, “I will personally handpick my best subordinates and have them escort the young master back to the clan as soon and as safely as possible.”
“You are dismissed then.” The elder waved her off with a flick of his wrist, his attention already shifting to the next task at hand.
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“Achoo!”
Oliver sneezed and wiped his nose. A sudden gust of cold air brushed past him, sending an involuntary shiver down his spine. He had just been thinking about a certain fat white cat when he sneezed.
What everyone didn’t know was that he wasn’t in the city mentioned in the mission. Instead, he was actually in a city far away from it—the City of Harlington—where he was to complete the mission from the Black Codex Federation.
He had two missions: one from the clan and the other from Jenna. The latter was more important since it would determine his hierarchy in the organization.
“I have made sufficient preparations. It’s time to create the Sword of Negativity!”
His eyes turned determined as he looked at the sun slowly sinking beyond the clouds, a faint blanket of darkness slowly covering the sky.
The fading light seemed to herald the approach of something darker, more ominous.