Chapter 25: The Infirmary

Chapter 25: The Infirmary

Aether looked at Slavin with displeasure. "You suspect one of us stole the Blade of Revelation?"

"It's not impossible, is it? On the black market, a relic like that could fetch a sky-high price."

Slavin smirked inwardly.

If the Blade of Revelation were found on them, there'd be proof they conspired against the captain. Then the Holy City can't pin this on me!

Aether's face turned serious.

"Good point," he said. "Then let the people who didn't go on the hunt do the searching."

Slavin was caught off guard. This guy was clearly the mastermind—how was he so calm?

Could he have hidden the Blade somewhere outside, so he wasn't worried about a search?

The Warden jumped up: "That's right! Everyone gets searched!"

He called the guards who'd stayed behind and had all the hunting party line up in the main hall. Even the stable boys were dragged over. The horses were given to other guards, and the doctor took charge of the unconscious prisoner on the stretcher.

No one bothered to search the prisoner. He was wearing nothing but a thin prison uniform—you could tell at a glance he wasn't hiding anything, so there was no point.

"Hey! Someone give me a hand with this wounded guy!" the bald doctor called out, pointing at the prisoners working in the square.

"I'll do it!" A scholar stepped out of the crowd.

Eric raised his hand too: "I'll help!"

"Nikola, you rotten lizard, now you're all eager!" the doctor gave him a dirty look but didn't turn him down.

The two of them lifted the stretcher, one at each end, and swayed their way toward the infirmary on the west side of the main building.

Inside the infirmary, several beds were lined up, all with clean sheets. A row of shelves lined the wall, crammed with jars and bottles—some full of herbs, others with eyeballs or brains floating in liquid.

The doctor had Nikola lay the wounded man flat on the bed. Lyman groaned and slowly woke up.

When he opened his eyes, the first things he saw were the doctor and the scholar's heads, and a ceiling he didn't recognize.

"You're awake!" the doctor said, surprised. "Don't worry, I'll patch you up right away!"

Lyman stayed still, letting the doctor check his wounds. He knew damn well he wasn't seriously hurt, but he still acted like he was on his last breath.

"Wow, kid, you're incredibly lucky!"

The bald doctor marveled as he applied the medicine and wrapped the bandages.

"Attacked by a bear, and you only got a few scratches. It's a miracle!"

Lyman smiled weakly: "Thank God for his protection."

While the doctor turned to sort through his medicines, Nikola and Eric leaned in close.

The scholar asked slyly, "Lyman, what really happened? Was the captain really mauled by a beast?"

"Of course it was," Lyman said, his eyes narrowing. Nikola stiffened, realizing the truth was more complicated.

He'd been right—his buddy was no ordinary guy!

Eric's face changed too.

The doctor came back. Nikola quickly put on a loud, exaggerated voice: "Brother, you can't die on us!"

"Shut up. You're bothering the patient!" The doctor kicked the scholar, then turned to Lyman. "You'll rest here tonight. I'll lock the door, but I'll be upstairs—call me if you need anything."

He shooed the scholar and Eric out and locked the door. Lyman lay still, listening to his footsteps going up the stairs. Once he was sure the doctor wouldn't be back down anytime soon, Lyman sat up and summoned the Book of the Evil God.

The pages gave off a faint glow, the text easy to read even in the dark.

He flipped to the page on the "Divine Casket." The Blade of Revelation and the Light-Focusing Mirror were still sitting neatly in their slots.

"Name: Blade of Revelation"

"Description: A strange dagger shaped like a withered, slender finger. When the right ritual is performed, it becomes incredibly sharp for a while, able to pierce through anything."

"The proper ritual?" Lyman thought. "Isn't it just getting blood on it? What's the 'ritual' about?"

He'd have to ask Lunast when he got back to the black cell. Lunast had promised that once Lyman got the Blade of Revelation, he'd tell him what it was really for.

Lyman looked at the other thing.

"Name: Light-Focusing Mirror"

"Description: A plain mirror, imbued with the fervent prayers of a High Cleric. Say 'Let there be light' to activate it, and it unleashes a brilliant flash that dispels darkness, evil spirits, and the undead, and can also temporarily blind."

"Uses left: 2"

Lyman ran his hand over the page, and the Light-Focusing Mirror appeared in his hand. It was about the size of a compact mirror, with a crack across the surface.

Maybe when the uses ran out, it would shatter completely.

Lyman put the mirror back in the Divine Casket, then a thought hit him: Could the Divine Casket hold anything? Could it hold living things? Could it hold him?

Lyman looked around and spotted a spider hanging in a corner of the room. He carefully picked it up and placed it on the page.

Nothing happened. The spider scurried off. Lyman heard it let out a string of shrieks that sounded like curses.

He then tried pushing his hand into the page.

Nothing.

So the Divine Casket could only hold non-living things. The idea of putting himself into the Book of the Evil God and then summoning the Book of the Evil God—a nesting-doll trick—was a no-go.

So how big could something be to fit in the Divine Casket? Could it hold the whole Cape Prison?

Lyman turned the Book of the Evil God upside down on the ground. "Cape Prison, get in!"

Nothing happened.

"The Divine Casket can only hold non-living things you can carry."

Maybe stunned by Lyman's bold hypothesizing and careful checking—his scientific spirit—the Book of the Evil God immediately showed a line of text.

"Even the Book of the Evil God has limits," Lyman sighed.

He put the Book of the Evil God away and lay back down.

As his excitement faded, exhaustion washed over him.

After a whole day of adventuring, he was dead tired and it was time to get some proper rest.

Knock, knock, knock—

Just as sleep began to settle in, it was shattered by a frantic pounding at the door.

"Who is it?" came the doctor's impatient voice from upstairs. "You'd better be dying, or I swear I'm gonna be pissed!"

"Inquisitor Aether Orolan and Nachel Tovrius," said the person outside. "Sorry to bother you, Doc, but we need to question a prisoner."

***

Back in the prison lobby.

Aether Orolan had a sour look on his face, like he'd just watched a village get wiped out by infidels. He threw on his white robe, smoothed out his collar, and turned to the Warden. "This ought to prove we're innocent, right?"

Everyone who'd been on the hunt and the rescue had been searched, with everyone keeping an eye on each other so nobody could pull anything shady. But even after a full strip-down, there wasn't a single trace of the Blade of Revelation.

The Warden's uniform was completely drenched in cold sweat, like he'd just been dragged out of the ocean.

"We're screwed, we're totally screwed..." he said, utterly dejected. "How the hell am I supposed to explain this to the Preacher General..."

Nachel shrugged it off like it was no big deal. "It probably got dropped in the woods. We'll send a search party out tomorrow."

"Yeah, a search party..." The Warden merely repeated the words, totally lost his nerve—not that he ever had much to begin with.

"We're all sad about Captain Prew's death," Aether said, not looking sad at all, his voice flat. "But we gotta keep things moving. The guards need someone in charge. Let's just bump someone up to acting captain for now."

"Then let Slavin do it," the Warden said without hesitation. "He was already Prew's right-hand man and knows the ropes."

Not far off, Slavin instinctively straightened up. Guess the captain kicking the bucket ain't all bad, he thought.

Aether frowned. "Deputy Captain Slavin's young and got potential, but when it comes to seniority and experience, isn't there someone better suited?"

He glanced around at the guards. "Which deputy captain here has the most seniority and experience?"

Everyone's gaze fell on Deputy Captain Edton.

Edton hadn't even caught up with what was going on. As part of the rescue team, he'd just had to strip down for the search and was only now halfway through pulling his pants up. Why was everybody staring at him? Was there something wrong with his ass?

"Warden, what do you think?" Aether asked.

For the Warden, it didn't really matter who got the job. Since the Inquisitor had played the "seniority and experience" card, it'd be awkward for him to argue.

"Fine, whatever you say," he said weakly. "Edton, you're the acting captain from now on."

Edton was completely floored. How had he become captain? He was always joking around, saying stuff like, "If you're innocent, then I could be captain," but that was just a joke—how the hell did it actually happen?

Was the Inquisitor actually trying to give him a leg up? Could it be that his hidden talents had finally been spotted by someone with a good eye?

"Yes, sir!" Edton saluted eagerly, his pants dropping to the floor. "I'll serve the Warden, Cape Prison, and the Holy Nation with everything I've got!"

"Tomorrow, get a team together and search the woods for the relic," Aether instructed.

"You got it! I won't let you down!"

Everyone went their separate ways. Aether and Nachel headed back to the auxiliary tower together.

The red-haired inquisitor asked quietly, "Hey, you didn't hide the Blade of Revelation yourself, did you?"

"I was just about to ask you the same thing," Aether replied irritably. "What the hell would I want with it?"

"To piss off the Preacher General?" Nachel guessed.

Aether rolled his eyes.

"Did you pick up on anything at the scene?" Nachel pressed.

"Didn't see hide nor hair of the relic, but I did find something interesting."

"Oh?" The red-haired inquisitor gave him a look, telling him to go on.

"That trap—I figured at first it was an old hunting pit the guards dug, and Prew just had shitty luck and fell in. But when I looked closer, I realized it'd been dug recently," Aether said with certainty. "And then there's this sudden hunt... you think someone might've been trying to use it as a chance to off Prew?"

Nachel was taken aback and immediately looked around. Once he was sure nobody was around, he pulled his buddy into a corner.

"It's not out of the question," he whispered. "Cape Prison isn't exactly one big happy family. Prew might be the big shot around here, but there's plenty of folks who can't stand him."

Aether agreed. "I bet even his own men aren't completely loyal. I've heard Prew's rough on his guys, always yelling and knocking them around."

Nachel thought of someone. "Deputy Captain Slavin?"

Aether nodded slightly. "He's Prew's right-hand man, the most trusted, but he also catches the most flak. He's also the one with the best shot at pulling it off. Don't you think the whole hunt felt off? Slavin led you away from the group—maybe he was afraid your supernatural ability would ruin his plan. Then, all he needed was a way to get Prew alone and lure him into the trap."

Nachel pondered. "But Prew was ultimately killed by a bear. How would Slavin have driven the beast to attack him?"

"Remember, that beast was a mother bear who had lost her cubs. Experienced hunters generally don't kill cubs or mothers with young. Prew loved hunting; there's no way he didn't know that. Last time he went hunting, Slavin accompanied him. Maybe he egged Prew on to kill the cubs, drawing the mother's hatred. That way, whenever Prew entered the forest again, he'd be at risk of attack.

"It's not a hundred percent certain, but if it happens, it's a perfect plan to kill by proxy. If it fails once, there's a second and third time. Prew hunts often, so every trip carries that risk."

Nachel slapped his thigh. "Come to think of it, Slavin was the one who suggested the search just now. Was he trying to prove his own innocence?"

"Exactly. He might be the one who hid the Blade of Revelation. He knows the relic isn't on him, so of course he's not afraid of being searched."

Nachel's eyes lit up, and he shot his companion an approving look. "You suggested Edton as acting captain—were you also guarding against Slavin? After all, we need to organize a search party tomorrow. If Slavin were captain, he might take the chance to destroy clues we haven't noticed yet."

"That's part of it. But more than that, it's to weaken Prew's faction," Aether said. "Of course, I only suspect Slavin; I don't have solid evidence. So I plan to interrogate the eyewitness."

Nachel thought for a moment. "Layman Vichard? He's injured—can he be questioned?"

"It doesn't hurt to check first," Aether said with a gesture. "Go fetch the 'Mouth of Truth.'"

"Huh? I didn't say I was coming along..."

"You were supposed to come with me anyway!"

Reluctantly, Nachel went to the temporary office to retrieve the lion statue. Together, they made their way to the infirmary and knocked on the door.

"Can prisoner 1154 be questioned now?" Aether asked.

"His injuries aren't severe, so it should be fine," the doctor said, wearing his nightgown and holding a candlestick, nervously welcoming the two uninvited guests inside.

Layman lay on the bed, feigning drowsiness, while inwardly breaking into a cold sweat.

He had anticipated being questioned, given that he was the sole survivor at the scene. But he hadn't expected it to come so quickly. He was an injured man, after all—couldn't they show a little humanity?

Nachel placed the lion statue by the bedside. Aether gave the doctor a look, and the doctor immediately caught on, setting down the candlestick.

"Take your time chatting—I'll go for a stroll outside," he said, then fled the room.

Nachel dragged over a chair, placed it backward by the bed, and straddled it, resting his arms on the backrest.

Aether, hands clasped behind his back, looked down at the wounded man, his blue eyes reflecting the candlelight, seeming deep and inscrutable.

"Your injuries aren't too serious, are they?" Nashel asked with concern.

Lyman could tell that when these two interrogated together, they played good cop/bad cop, and Nashel was clearly the good cop.

"The doctor said it's just a minor injury," Lyman said with a weak smile. "Looks like I lucked out."

"That's good," Aether said coldly. "I have some questions for you. Can you tell me what happened during the hunt?"

He gestured toward the Lion Statue, signaling Lyman to place his hand inside.

They'd brought this thing out—so they wouldn't be satisfied with lies alone. But that didn't matter. Lyman had completely figured out how the Mouth of Truth worked, and he knew exactly what kind of "truth" could trick this relic.

He dutifully slipped his hand into the lion's mouth. "So much happened that my head is still spinning. What exactly do you want to know?"

"Start with when you left the group," Aether said. "According to the stable hand, the camp was attacked by a giant bear. So how did you end up at the scene of Captain Prew's death?"

Lyman chose his words carefully. "I just wanted to get away as quickly as I could, so I climbed onto a horse, and the giant bear kept chasing after us. I don't know how long we ran, but the horse got too exhausted to go on, and I fell off it."

He turned away and coughed a couple of times, his face growing paler.

"The bear charged at me and swiped at me with its paw. Whether it was luck or something else, it missed me and shattered the iron chain."

Aether nodded. When they'd found Lyman, the chain connecting his shackles had indeed been broken.

"Later, from deeper in the woods, I heard Captain Prew's shouts. The bear headed straight off in that direction without looking back."

Nashel asked, "Didn't you think about running then? Your shackles were broken—you could've gotten away."

"Where would I even run?" Lyman gave a bitter laugh. "I don't know the first thing about surviving in the wild; I wouldn't last in the forest. And there were terrifying beasts out there, too..." He shuddered. "Cape Prison may not have freedom, but it has a roof to keep out the wind and rain, enough food to get by, and a lot of good friends."

Aether glanced at the Lion Statue, which hadn't moved an inch.

"What happened next?" he pressed.

"Not long after, a white light suddenly flared up from the captain's direction. That definitely wasn't natural light—I figured it must have been the captain, so I ran over. But by the time I got there... they were already dead."

Aether asked, "When you say 'they,' do you mean the two guards and Captain Prew?"

Lyman cursed inwardly. He'd hoped to slip by with a vague reference, but Aether was being far too specific.

He thought fast and answered, "The two guards were lying on the ground—I figured they were dead. As for Captain Prew, he was still alive at that point. I... I saw the giant bear kill him with my own eyes..."

His eyes started to well up. "After the captain died, the bear turned on me. Thank goodness you showed up when you did—I hate to think what would've happened!"

Nashel and Aether exchanged glances. What Lyman said matched the scene, and the Mouth of Truth hadn't reacted, meaning he wasn't lying.

Aether continued, "Did you happen to see the Blade of Revelation at the scene?"

"The Blade of Revelation... what's that?" Lyman pretended not to know.

"It's a dagger. I've never seen it myself, but I've heard it's pale purple, about this long," Aether gestured.

Nashel added, "Captain Prew was supposed to have it on him, but now it's missing. Any idea where it might be?"

If he said "no idea," that would be a lie, and the Lion Statue would definitely bite down on his hand.

But he couldn't say he had it either. Did he have a death wish?

A vague answer might fool the Lion Statue, but it would never get past the Inquisitor.

Lyman's mind raced, and then he put on a look of sudden realization.

"I did see a purple dagger, though I'm not sure if it's the Blade of Revelation you mean."

Both inquisitors looked shocked.

"Where?!" Aether demanded urgently.

"It was after the white light burst, before I reached the scene. I saw a raven flying by, clutching a purple dagger in its claws."

That was the absolute truth. Lyman worked with the ravens. After they stole the Blade of Revelation, they air-dropped it to him. So he had indeed witnessed the raven carrying the dagger—he'd just conveniently omitted a few details.

"What about the raven?!" Aether grabbed Lyman by the collar.

"I—how should I know... it flew away, I suppose... cough, cough, I can't breathe..."

Aether immediately let go. Lyman coughed for a long while before recovering.

"Sir, is that thing... very important?"

"It's a treasure of the Church, extremely valuable, and it must be found. If it's lost, some people might lose their positions, and some might lose their heads."

Aether looked to his companion for input: "A raven?"

Nashel gave an awkward smile. "Come to think of it, corvids do have a thing for collecting shiny objects."

Aether clutched his forehead in despair. "The Blade of Revelation ending up in some corner of the forest was bad enough, but now you're telling me a raven stole it? That's like looking for a needle in a haystack!"

"The dagger is bigger than a needle..."

"Who asked you that?!"

He roughly yanked Nashel off the chair, grabbed the Lion Statue, and said to Lyman, "That's all for today. If you remember anything, you can let us know."

Lyman nodded hastily, assuring them he would obey the Inquisitor's orders.

The two inquisitors turned and headed for the door. Behind them, Lyman sank back onto his pillow and let out a long breath.

He'd made it through. They'd never guess the Blade of Revelation was right under their noses. Now all he had to do was get back to the black cell...

"Wait," Nashel suddenly said. "I have one more question."

He had one foot out the door but stopped there.

He took the Mouth of Truth from Aether, pushed past his companion, and walked back to Lyman's bedside, amiably taking the silver-haired young man's hand and placing it in the lion's mouth.

"Layman Vichard, please answer one question honestly."

Nashel said, a smile spreading across his face: "Do you have a Supernatural Ability?"