After exiting the theater, Jack strolled through the bustling streets of Trier with Marceline at his side and Dorian trailing a few steps behind.
Good thing I prepared specific cues to guide my behavior. No mishaps this time, Jack thought with a quiet sigh of relief as his gaze landed on a quaint bookstore. Without hesitation, he stepped inside.
"Good morning, my kind sir. How may I assist you?" the shopkeeper greeted warmly, his tone matching the cozy atmosphere of the store.
"Good morning. I'm looking for a copy of Emperor Roselle's Secret Chronicles, please," Jack replied with measured politeness.
"Right away." The shopkeeper moved briskly to the shelves, disappearing into the maze of books before returning promptly with the requested volume.
Marceline and Dorian lingered near the entrance, keeping to themselves in silent patience.
This place looks fascinating. If I had the time, I'd sit down and devour every book here, Jack mused, his eyes scanning the neatly arranged titles. Even some romance novels might be worth a look… oh well. He smirked inwardly, the thought cut short by the shopkeeper's return.
"Here it is, sir," the shopkeeper said, placing the book on the counter. "That will be 200 verl'dor."
Jack reached into his pocket and handed over the payment. "Thank you," he said curtly before turning on his heel and exiting the shop, the book securely in hand.
The trio resumed their wanderings through Trier's lively streets until they came upon a large bulletin board plastered with news. Jack stepped closer, his sharp eyes scanning the headlines until they settled on a particular story.
His eyes widened slightly, a glimmer of satisfaction flickering within them.
"Heh. It seems my first move is closer than I anticipated," Jack murmured, a sly grin creeping onto his face. Without missing a beat, he called for a carriage, his mind already turning with plans.
...
Dressed in a crisp white, long-sleeved shirt under a tailored black vest, paired with black trousers and polished shoes, Nivlek Sauron stood by the wide window of his office. From his vantage point, he gazed over the sprawling city below, his red hair catching the light as his gray eyes lingered in distant thought. The stoic expression on his face betrayed little of the storm within.
The sound of a door opening interrupted his musings. A man in a pristine military uniform stepped inside, saluting sharply.
"Good morning, General Sauron. I bring updates regarding the Southern Continent," the officer announced with measured professionalism.
"At ease, officer," Nivlek replied, his voice calm but firm. "Report."
Closing the door behind him, the officer continued, "Sir, the situation in the Southern Continent has deteriorated. Troops stationed to protect Intis's colonies report daily attacks by rebel factions and covert organizations. Chaos spreads unchecked, and our forces are stretched too thin to mount a counteroffensive. They are limited to defensive operations only."
The officer hesitated briefly before adding, "Furthermore, the higher-ups in the government are unwilling to escalate the conflict. They argue that there's insufficient evidence to justify further action, insisting on maintaining only defensive measures for the colonies."
He paused to take a breath before delivering the final piece of his report. "The Rose School of Thought has been particularly elusive. While their actions have been disruptive—ambushing supply transports and attacking colonies—there's been no trace of their leadership. Their movements remain scattered and unpredictable."
Nivlek's brows knitted together as he processed the officer's words. The gravity of the situation was clear, but his expression remained impassive.
"I see," he finally said, his tone measured. "Thank you, officer. That will be all for now. You are dismissed."
The officer straightened, saluting crisply. "Understood, sir!" With that, he exited the room, closing the door softly behind him.
Alone once more, Nivlek let out a quiet sigh, sinking into his high-backed leather chair. His fingers drummed lightly against the polished wood of his desk as his eyes skimmed over the documents scattered before him.
Even as an Angel, I cannot act as I please. The higher-ups remain blind to the realities of the battlefield.
Moreover, it should be around the time that the incident occurs in Cordu. Things are about to stir even more. Some of them to my advantage. Nivlek lampooned.
Anticipation flickered in his gray eyes, mingling with a trace of dread.
Having completed the tiresome task of signing off documents, Nivlek Sauron set aside the bureaucratic burden with a quiet sigh of relief. Before he could fully gather his thoughts, the door to his office opened again, admitting his receptionist.
"General, a new guest has arrived and is awaiting a meeting with you, sir," she said succinctly.
"And who might this guest be?" Nivlek inquired, his tone even.
"The Minister of Defense, Adrian Voss."
Nivlek's gray eyes sharpened momentarily before his expression returned to its usual composure. "Call him in, then. We can't keep the Minister waiting."
The receptionist gave a small nod and departed. Moments later, a tall figure entered the room.
Adrian Voss, clad in a finely tailored gray suit adorned with the subtle embellishments befitting a man of high rank and privilege, strode in with purpose. His shoulder-length brown hair framed his sharp features, and his green eyes glimmered with restrained focus. Tucked under his arm was a copy of Emperor Roselle's Secret Chronicles.
"Good morning, General Sauron. It's a pleasure to see you today," Adrian greeted warmly, extending his hand.
"Good morning, Minister Voss. Likewise, it is an honor to have you here," Nivlek replied with equal grace, shaking his guest's hand firmly.
Both men took their seats, settling into the leather chairs that framed the desk. Nivlek's hawk-like eyes couldn't help but flicker toward the book Adrian carried.
"I wasn't aware you had such distinct literary tastes, Minister. Quite the unexpected discovery," Nivlek remarked, a hint of intrigue in his tone.
"Oh, this?" Adrian chuckled, holding up the book briefly. "It's just a passing hobby of mine for rare moments of leisure. Emperor Roselle's escapades make for quite enviable entertainment." His demeanor was light, but it quickly turned serious as he straightened his posture.
"But that's not why I'm here today," Adrian continued, his voice steady and direct. "I need an update on the Southern Continent's situation, along with any insight into the other conflicts brewing under Intis's watch."
Nivlek nodded, his expression hardening slightly. "The Southern Continent is in turmoil. Our colonies face intermittent attacks—both from rebel factions and the Rose School of Thought. Supply routes are ambushed regularly. Currently, our troops are stationed defensively within the colonies, unable to mount any counteroffensive efforts."
He paused before shifting to broader concerns. "Elsewhere, Feynapotter and Loen are testing our responses, probing the borders for any spark that could escalate into war. Thus far, neither has made significant moves. The Loen Kingdom, in particular, has been unusually quiet these past few months."
Adrian's gaze sharpened, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed the information. After a moment, he spoke, his tone measured but weighted. "It's as I expected. You're undoubtedly aware of why the government has chosen not to escalate these issues further?"
Nivlek let out a resigned sigh. "Yes, I'm aware. Though I don't agree with the decision, it is what it is."
Adrian leaned forward slightly, his expression grave. "It's a complicated and unfortunate situation. Beyond the external threats, we must contend with the rising activities of secret organizations within Intis—especially here in Trier. Their presence within our own borders poses a far greater danger than any external conflict at the moment."
As the General nodded, lost in heavy thoughts regarding the underlying implications, the Minister leaned forward slightly, breaking the silence with a casual comment.
"How about we continue this conversation over a meal? There are some more routine matters I'd like to discuss. Any recommendations?"
"Do you have any preferences, Minister?" Nivlek inquired, his tone neutral but attentive.
"Oh, nothing too elaborate. I'm just in the mood for some roasted cuttlefish," Adrian replied nonchalantly, his demeanor calm and unassuming.
Could he be? Nivlek's gray eyes narrowed sharply, his posture stiffening as caution instinctively took hold.
"I see. There are several restaurants that suit my tastes. I can make a reservation right away," he responded carefully, his tone probing for any reaction.
"Good. I appreciate that," Adrian remarked, flashing a pleasant smile. "Time has been such a luxury lately. Everything feels so rushed—it's exhausting."
Indeed. It's as I suspected, Nivlek thought, his mind racing as he maintained an outwardly composed demeanor. Every word from Adrian now seemed deliberate, layered with meaning.
Nivlek offered a measured response, subtly testing the waters. "Interesting. It took long enough for someone to approach me. I just didn't expect it to be someone in a position as high as yours." He paused, his gaze unwavering. "What is your name?"
"I had some errands to attend to, amongst other matters. Additionally, my previous name is of no importance. Surprising how you, of all people, haven't changed yours," "Adrian" remarked casually, his tone sharp yet nonchalant.
"It was a deliberate choice," Nivlek replied, his eyes narrowing. "And what errands would those be? Your decisions these past few years haven't exactly been commendable, in my honest opinion."
"For some hot-headed warmonger like you, of course they're not," "Adrian" countered, his voice laced with subtle condescension. "But one needs to exert control and patience." He leaned back slightly, smirking. "And look who's talking. As far as I know, most things are unfolding in the same predictable way under your watch."
The provocation was deliberate, and Nivlek didn't let it go unnoticed. Without hesitation, he exerted his influence—a faint but potent wave of pressure designed to make Adrian falter, if only slightly.
To Nivlek's surprise, "Adrian" didn't so much as flinch. Instead, he remained completely composed, his gaze steady and unyielding.
Nivlek's eyes narrowed further, his curiosity piqued. This resistance... unusual.
Activating Weakness Investigation, he scanned "Adrian" carefully. Bright spots appeared across "Adrian's" body, each one distinct and pulsating.
Worms, Nivlek deduced, his mind racing. A Seer pathway, perhaps? That narrows things down.
"Tsk. Easy for you to criticize," Nivlek finally responded, masking his irritation with an air of indifference. "I had to contend with... complications. It took three years to stabilize myself."
He leaned forward slightly, his tone hardening. "Now tread carefully and answer me this—what did you do to the true Minister?"
Nivlek's piercing gaze bore into "Adrian", scrutinizing every subtle twitch and movement, his senses heightened to detect even the faintest sign of deceit.
"Relax. He is fine in his own home, asleep. Let's set aside petty matters for now—I've come with a proposal," "Adrian" remarked carelessly, his posture radiating an unsettling ease.
"And what would that be?" Nivlek asked, reclining into his chair, though his wariness remained evident in his measured tone.
"Cooperation," "Adrian" replied, his expression turning more serious. "You, better than anyone, understand how dire the situation is and how much worse it's bound to become. Additionally, that kid is likely en route to Trier as we speak. The cogs are constantly turning, and time is running out."
Nivlek's eyes narrowed. "You can choose to act on your own, as I would do the same. But we both know that neither of us can accomplish much alone in the grand scheme of things," "Adrian continued", his voice firm and deliberate.
"There's some truth to that," Nivlek admitted, his tone measured as he leaned forward slightly. "I've made my own arrangements, though nothing significant yet. As you said, I can't handle this alone. What exactly do you propose?"
"Ah, only some 'walks' to the Southern Continent. And I'll be reaching out to the Tarot Club about certain hidden issues—like Hisoka and others," "Adrian" said, his tone shifting to one of calculated nonchalance.
"Walks?" Nivlek raised an eyebrow. "What use are 'normal walks' in a situation as complex as this? And don't forget, my position as General of the Intis Military limits my ability to act freely."
"Very enthusiastic walks," Adrian quipped, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
Before Nivlek could respond, "Adrian" continued, his voice calm but brimming with implications. "And don't concern yourself too much, my friend. That particular issue will resolve itself in due time. Until then..."
"Adrian's" face and body began to shift unnaturally, his form distorting like rippling water before solidifying into an exact replica of Nivlek.
"...we'll have plenty of opportunities to strengthen our acquaintance." The doppelgänger's voice was a perfect mimicry of Nivlek's, chilling in its accuracy.
"Besides, I have other matters to attend to—namely the Tarot Club, as I mentioned earlier," "Adrian" added, his altered visage now smiling with a cryptic edge.
Nivlek's thoughts confirmed it—this truly was a Seer.
"I see," he said aloud, his voice steady.
"Indeed, it is a fair deal, and there is no loss at this moment."
He reached for a piece of paper, swiftly writing something down, then handed it over to his new partner.
As "Adrian" took the paper, he read it with careful attention.
"Fairy who wanders the upper realms. The Friendly multi-winged creature who is devoted to flames, the Messenger that belongs solely to Nivlek Sauron"
"That is the ritual to summon my messenger for further notices," Nivlek said casually.
In response, "Adrian" retrieved a piece of paper from the inner pocket of his suit and flicked it toward the General.
As Nivlek read the contents, he pieced together more of this person's true identity. Jack Layne, the Secret Order's stand-in leader. Interesting.
"So, my partner in crime is someone so formidable," Nivlek mused aloud. "Let me ask… Zaratul. What of him?"
"Dead. In a ditch." Jack answered contemptuously.
A chuckle escaped Nivlek. "I see. Well, that already helps us tremendously. Hopefully, you can find that abominable Dylan Castle?" he inquired, his tone expectant.
"Guess," Jack replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Nivlek smiled at the answer. "I shall wait expectantly, then."
Jack stood, preparing to leave. "Very well. I've done my job for today. I will be going."
Before he could exit, Jack turned briefly, asking, "Oh, one last thing. Have you nurtured a Demoness?"
Nivlek's eyes narrowed slightly. He glanced at the book of the Emperor's chronicles in Jack's hand before replying with a sly smile, "No, I have not been able to. The Demoness Sect is quite strict in this regard, and it's hard to do so within the military. Why? Do you plan to follow in Roselle's steps?"
Jack smiled faintly, his tone casual as he responded, "Perhaps. Who knows." With that, he turned and walked away, his appearance shifting into that of a random mook from the streets.
Once Jack had left, Nivlek returned to the wall-sized window, his gaze sweeping over the city of Trier. His thoughts churned.
Heh, indeed. Things are getting more interesting now that they're being stirred.
...
In a hidden underground bunker, beneath the city of Matani, there held a beaten man tied to a chair, bleeding profusely from his battered, toothless face. Riddled with cuts and profusions all over his body, from up the arms to down below on his legs and feet.
Another man stood in front of him, with bloodied fists and a table filled with bloodied sharp utensils.
And in the corner of the room, sit an elegant and luxurious man, sipping wine calmly as he witnesses such horrid acts.