Chương 73: Chapter 71: Ghost of an Image

Jain, Nill, and the knights walked toward the exit of the inn. As they moved, skepticism gnawed at both Jain and Nill. Why had Vionette ordered them to meet the old man every single day? Jain had planned to do so anyway, but why at four different times? Could she be trying to keep us busy and get us out of their hair? Jain thought, her gaze fixed on the floorboards. However, as they pushed open the inn's doors and stepped into the morning light, that suspicion dissolved into reassurance.

Waiting outside were Vionette, Noa, Kaelen, and Rose—the very group supposed to be enjoying a restful day indoors.

"Lord Noa, Lady Vionette… what are you doing here?" Jain muttered, puzzled.

"Yaho—good morning, gang," Vionette waved with a bright smile.

"We're here to join you, of course. We can't just leave all the burden to you now, can we?" Jain glanced at Nill, then back at Vionette, offering a relieved smile.

"We appreciate it a lot, My Lady." What's with that look, Jain? Vionette thought, an amused smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Were you guessing that I was trying to distract you? What do you take me for?

"Well, not all of us," Noa added, hooking a thumb toward Kaelen behind him.

"Vionette and Rose will go with you; Kaelen and I will be heading to the library." Jain opened her mouth to speak, but before the words could surface, Nill stepped forward, his eyes narrowing.

"Then, would it be alright for me to accompany you, My Lord? For protection, I mean." Noa looked at Nill, tilting his head slightly before flashing a casual smile.

"Sure, man. You can come if you want." As Jain stared at Nill uncertainly, Nill glanced back at her and offered a reassuring nod. Don't worry, My Lady, I will keep an eye on them for you. Jain shifted her gaze from Nill to Vionette, meeting her perfectly natural smile. She doesn't seem upset about it… do they really have no ulterior motives?

"Alright then," Vionette said, clapping her hands together.

"Let's get going, people."

"Yes, he has been missing since a few days ago," an old demon said while nodding.

"Missing for a few days now?" Jain leaned back in surprise.

"Do you know where he was last seen?" The man scratched the back of his head.

"I believe… he was last seen around Asta's bar." Jain stared into empty space, lost in a fleeting train of thought. Then, returning her focus to the man, she nodded.

"Okay. Thank you for your time, sir. We'll be leaving now." They turned and walked away, the thud of the door closing behind them. A few paces down the street, Jain met up with Vionette, who was leaning idly against a stone wall, flanked by two knights for protection.

"So, how are things going?" Vionette asked. Jain stopped a few steps away from her.

"Everyone we spoke to today provided only minor details, just like any other day—where the missing were last seen, or who they last spoke to. A few even mentioned people going missing for a day or two, only to return safely."

"Really?" Vionette murmured, her tone bordering on dismissive.

"Actually, Lady Vionette…" Jain started, before her voice dried up in her throat.

"Yeah?" Vionette turned her crimson gaze toward the Saint. Jain stared at Vionette's seemingly confused expression for several long seconds, then let out a slow exhale. I don't want to ask this so directly, but we have to act fast to prevent more casualties.

"Lady Vionette," she said, stepping closer.

"You said you had a plan, right? But we're still on square one without any real progress. I'm not pushing you or anything," she added, dropping her gaze to the cobblestones.

"I just want to end this quickly." Vionette lingered in silence for a moment before gently tapping the Saint's shoulder.

"I understand, Jain." She shook her head, meeting Jain's eyes with an expression of genuine frustration.

"But what do you expect me to do when we have so few clues? I mean, look at this—last seen locations, last spoken words, missing people coming back, and no strange behaviors? What am I supposed to piece together from that?" Jain's eyes widened slightly. She was right. What was Jain thinking? How were they supposed to weave a solution from such fragmented information? Was I expecting too much… just like that time? Jain closed her eyes, swallowing the rising guilt.

"…You're right, My Lady." Jain gritted her teeth and offered a formal bow.

"Please forgive me for speaking out of turn." She straightened up, forging a renewed smile.

"But, if there aren't enough clues, we just have to keep searching, right?" Vionette smiled back and gave an encouraging nod.

"Right." Jain signaled the knights and turned down a new street, ready to resume their investigation. As they set off, Vionette's pace deliberately dragged, letting the others pull ahead. I don't have enough clues? I'm still at a loss? Jain, do you take me for an idiot like the rest of you dumb fucks? Staring at the Saint's retreating back, Vionette placed a hand over her mouth—a futile gesture that did nothing to hide the wicked smile spreading across her face. I've solved the whole puzzle long ago.

I'm just waiting for you, my second piece, to fall into the right place. She continued observing Jain. A child, clad in worn, dirt-stained clothes, came sprinting down the street. He crashed into Jain and tumbled backward, rubbing his forehead as his brows knit in pain. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Jain crouched gracefully and extended a hand toward the boy, offering a warm smile while murmuring words Vionette couldn't hear.

The child looked up at her face, then down at her extended palm. Grabbing her hand, he pulled himself up and nodded. Jain gently patted his head, then kept his hand in hers, letting him walk beside her. Not long after, a little girl came running over, her curiosity drawn to the gleaming armor. Following Jain's reply, the girl looked at the boy, who offered a friendly wave. Soon enough, the girl joined their makeshift procession.

Then another, and another, flocked to her side—be they ragged beggars or well-dressed merchants—all drawn by an invisible, magnetic charm. Some skipped playfully around her, while others held her free hand, their bright smiles breathing life into the drab streets. Watching the scene unfold, Vionette mused, You're an attractor, Jain.

"Hey Kaelen, this is the floor, right?" Noa asked, scanning the entrance to the library's fourth floor.

"Did you already forget?" Kaelen looked at him with a disappointed sigh.

"Dude, why did she send the two of us, of all people?" Noa threw his hands up in a dramatic display of exasperation.

"Even Rose alone would've been better for this." Kaelen nodded solemnly.

"I couldn't agree more."

"Welcome back! Here for a second time?" Umel called out as they approached.

"I'm not complaining, as long as you pay." Noa and Kaelen just stared at her, their eyelids drooping in unified apathy. They don't seem to be doing anything suspicious... Nill thought, observing them from a distance. Suddenly, a tiny hand grabbed the edge of Noa's sleeve. Noa turned his gaze downward to find Rin standing there, clutching a stack of books to her chest as usual. She looked up at him, then down at her heavy load.

"H-hey, kid! Don't grab him like that." Nill stepped forward sternly and reached out to pry the girl's hand away. But Rin sidestepped, sliding behind Noa's legs. She peeked out at Nill, her small wings folding tightly around her body in silent protest.

"That's enough. She can touch me all she wants," Noa snapped, shooting Nill an annoyed glare. He then softened his gaze, looking down at Rin.

"Did you need me to help you carry this stuff again?" Rin nodded quietly. Noa turned to his knight.

"Well, Kaelen, you look for the info on your own." He then shot a sideways glance at Nill.

"And you can do whatever you want." Nill bristled in irritation, while Kaelen simply bowed and drifted off toward another aisle. Noa offered Umel a brief nod, then followed as Rin led the way.

"Hey, did you manage to get the book you wanted?" he asked as they strolled through the stacks.

"Yes."

"I wanna read it too. Can you let me read it?"

"Yes. But you won't understand it."

"…"

Old man Feil's house possessed a rustic charm that would have been beautiful had it not been suffocating under a thick blanket of neglect and dust. Jain stood before the wooden door, her knights forming a loose perimeter around the property, while Vionette had excused herself to grab lunch with her two escorts.

"Hello! Is anyone inside?" Jain called out, knocking firmly on the door. The hinges groaned as the door slowly opened, revealing an exhausted older man with bruised bags under his eyes—Feil. He looked up, and upon meeting the golden-haired Saint's radiant smile, a simple smile crept onto his own weathered face.

"It's you…" Feil's gaze drifted to the armed knights outside, a mix of fear and confusion clouding his eyes before he looked back at Jain.

"M-may I ask why you're here?"

"I thought you might be too lonely eating by yourself, so I brought some lunch for us to share." She lifted the woven basket in her hand, her smile shining even brighter.

"I'll probably be visiting every now and then from here on out." Feil just stared at her. As he did, a ghost from his past overlaid her features. That radiant expression was identical to the one his daughter wore whenever she returned from work—a bright, naïve smile that fooled herself. His trembling hand rose, hovering between them as if reaching out to touch an illusion he knew was too far away.

"You are just like her," he murmured. Shattering the delicate illusion, Jain gently placed the basket into his hands and tilted her head in confusion.

"…Pardon?"

"Nothing…" he sighed, stepping aside to clear the doorway.

"Please, come in." Jain stepped over the threshold, and the old man closed the door behind her.

"Miss Saint, have you… found out anything about my daughter?" The question brought Jain to a dead halt. Her face fell into shadow as she stared straight ahead, unable to meet his gaze.

"No, I'm sorry. We haven't made much progress yet." Feil remained silent for a heartbeat, then let out a dry, exhausted laugh.

"It's okay. You don't have to apologize." She glanced around the dim room, walking over to a nearby window. Pressing a finger against the glass, she dragged it downward, cutting a clean streak through the layer of grime.

"It's quite dusty for such a lovely home," she murmured.

"Would you like me to help you clean it?"

"Why?" Feil glanced toward the window, where the silhouettes of the knights stood guard outside.

"Couldn't you just order your knights to do it?" Jain smiled softly.

"I have the authority to command them, yes, but I don't like forcing them to do my personal chores." Feil set the woven basket down on a table and took a seat on a wooden bench, observing her with a quiet melancholy.

"Why do you… care so much?" Jain glanced at him over her shoulder, a soft, chiming laugh escaping her lips.

"Because I was raised by good people."

Five days later, Morning light filtered through the cleaned window as Feil sat quietly in his chair, watching the open sky. Suddenly, three knocks echoed through the silent house. Guessing the identity of his usual guest, he rose and walked toward the door, a fond smile gracing his lips. He pulled the door open and looked up.

"Miss Saint, you're earlier than usu—" His eyes widened in shock. Standing on his porch were two figures, both wearing chilling smiles that didn't quite reach their eyes. One possessed piercing, blood-red eyes, while the other stared down with purple irises set against pitch-black sclera.

"Hello, good morning," the man greeted in a mockingly playful tone as he casually stepped inside.

"W-who are you?" Feil stammered, instinctively stumbling backward.

"Are you with the Miss Saint—?" Before he could finish, a sudden agony tore through his flesh. He looked down to find a dark blade with a purple edge buried deep into his shoulder, its owner lifting his feet off the floor to meet the man's height. In the next heartbeat, a wave of terror and despair washed over him, bleeding directly from the dark metal. Feil stopped feeling the physical pain entirely, his throat tearing as he shrieked from the psychic violation.

The moment the torment receded, crimson trails of blood began to weep from his own eyes.

"Yes, we are with your 'Miss Saint'," the man said, his smile widening into something monstrous as he carried the impaled old man toward the far wall.

"And she is the one who sent us here to do this." Feil forced his half-closed eyes open, staring desperately into the man's gaze.

"N-no… you're lying. She wouldn't. I… I don't believe you!"

"What does it matter, motherfucker?!" the man snarled, driving the blade into the timber of the wall, pinning the old man so he hung helplessly by his shoulder.

"No, no, you can't die just yet." The woman stepped into the room, twirling a small glass vial between her fingers. She grabbed a fistful of Feil's hair, yanking his head back to meet her crimson gaze, a wicked, ear-to-ear grin stretching across her face. Popping the cork off the vial, she jammed the glass rim against his teeth, forcing the glowing healing potion down his throat.

"We can have so much more fun if we take our time. So try to hold on for us, 'kay?" As the empty bottle shattered against the floorboards, the woman drew a rusted dagger and drove it through the old man's palm, crucifying his hand to the wall. Feil looked up at her, grinding his teeth in agony.

"Please stop—it hurts!" A melodic laugh echoed through the house, quickly joined by a deeper chuckle. The two figures stood before him, laughing with a mocking, unhinged cruelty.

"What's wrong, old man? Why don't you ask your precious Miss Saint for help, then?" the man taunted, stepping forward and burying his fist into Feil's face with a sickening crunch. Their maniacal laughter continued to ring out through the room, blending seamlessly with the old man's unbearable screams—screams that would never be heard, perfectly swallowed by a sound barrier.