The room was larger than she had imagined, but not as solemn and dignified as she expected.
Instead, it was rather simple, with only a heavy oak desk placed by the window, its surface piled with documents and scrolls.
The Inquisitor sat behind the desk.
Her gaze was fixed tightly on Celia and the other two as they entered the office.
“Hah. Ilyas hasn’t been gone long, and you’ve already found another one?”
“I…”
“Just like a Dark Elf.”
The Inquisitor’s expression was calm, her tone cool, but her unchanging demeanor put immense pressure on Celia.
Celia opened her mouth to explain, but found herself at a loss for words.
Facing an elder—especially Ilyas’s guardian—all her words got stuck in her throat, unable to utter a single one.
After all, she was the one who had taken Ilyas away.
“It’s not like that.”
A voice sounded from behind.
Olivia stepped forward, standing beside Celia.
She raised her head, meeting the Inquisitor’s cold, icy eyes without any sign of retreat.
“I’m the one who pursued her. Celia hasn’t agreed yet,” Olivia continued.
“Coming to the Holy State was my own decision to follow her. It has nothing to do with her.”
“A Dark Elf is a Dark Elf. No need to explain. Back then, Aiweier was seduced by you like this, and so was Ilyas.”
Onyxia’s eyes narrowed.
“Aiweier? Who is that?”
The Inquisitor’s expression changed—a very subtle shift.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she turned around and looked out the window.
Sunlight streamed in through the tall windows, gilding her silhouette in a golden outline.
“Nothing.”
She finally spoke.
“You don’t need to know.”
Then she changed the subject.
“You want to see Ilyas?”
“No way.”
She directly pronounced the sentence of death.
Celia’s heart sank.
“She is at a critical moment right now.”
The Inquisitor’s voice returned to its usual coldness.
“She is in the final stage of the Saintess Assessment and cannot afford any disturbance.”
“Go back.”
“But—”
“No buts.”
The Inquisitor cut her off.
“If you want to see her, wait until the assessment is over.”
“How long will that take?”
“I don’t know. Maybe ten days, maybe a month, maybe forever.”
She turned and walked to her desk, picked up a document, and made a gesture of seeing them out.
Celia stood there, about to say something else, but Onyxia gently took her hand.
“Let’s go.”
The three of them were escorted out of the room by the adjutant.
The door closed behind them.
The hallway fell silent again.
Celia kept her head down, lost in thought.
Olivia was unusually quiet.
Onyxia, meanwhile, furrowed her brows, softly murmuring a name.
“Aiweier…”
After leaving the Judgment Hall, the three searched the streets of the Holy City for a long time and finally found a hotel with a half-open door before nightfall.
Dim yellow light seeped through the crack, standing out conspicuously in the alley that had already fallen into darkness.
Onyxia stepped forward and pushed the door open.
The shop was even more deserted than outside.
A few tables were set up in the lobby, all empty, with chairs turned upside down on them, as if they hadn’t been used for a long time.
A thin layer of dust lay on the counter, and a single oil lamp burned in solitude, its flame flickering in the draft from the door.
An old man sat behind the counter, staring blankly at an oil lamp.
Hearing them, he looked up, his gaze sweeping over the three.
Without surprise, he just nodded wearily.
“Staying here?”
“Yeah.”
“There haven’t been many people staying lately.”
The old man rummaged for keys while muttering casually.
“More people just enter the city, take a shortcut, and leave through the other gate.”
“A shortcut?”
“Yeah.”
The old man tossed the keys onto the counter.
“The Holy City is the only way to the Ashen Plains. If you don’t take this route, you have to go a long way around. People used to stay a night, browse the market, and so on. Now… sigh.”
“Did something happen in the Holy City?”
After a long silence, the old man slowly spoke, “I don’t know either. Maybe there’s going to be a war.”
Hearing this, the expressions of all three changed at once.
“War?”
“Yeah.”
He slumped back in his chair.
“Rumors have been spreading lately. I don’t know if it’s demons or what. Those up top don’t explain clearly either. They just strengthen patrols day by day, seal the city, and check people.”
He shook his head.
“Anyway, us common folk can’t get any answers. We just go along with whatever they arrange.”
He gave a bitter smile.
“But if you don’t have any urgent business, better finish up and leave as soon as possible.”
The three exchanged glances, picked up the keys, and went upstairs.
The second-floor hallway was even quieter than downstairs.
Walking on it, they could only hear the faint rustling under their feet.
Two adjacent rooms.
Onyxia pushed open the door of the left one, checked that there was nothing unusual inside, and then let Celia enter.
Olivia didn’t go to the right room either; she just stood by Celia’s door.
“Come in,” Onyxia said with a sigh. Upon hearing the invitation, Olivia immediately pushed the door open and sat down by the bed.
The door closed.
The three of them sat around the narrow bed.
“War,” Olivia spoke first.
“I just came to human territory and now there’s war? No one told me back in the Dragon clan that the Holy State was in this kind of situation.”
“No one knows.”
Onyxia’s tail twitched uneasily.
“The old man said it’s a possibility, meaning the news isn’t confirmed yet, but the martial law is real.”
Celia remained silent.
She stared at her hands resting on her knees, her brows tightly furrowed.
“Celia?”
Onyxia touched her shoulder.
Celia looked up.
“I was thinking… Could this martial law have something to do with Ilyas?”
“What do you mean?”
“Xiya, remember the letter?”
“But that’s just a guess. However, I’m more interested in something else. Aiweier—I feel like I’ve seen that name somewhere, but I can’t recall it right now.”
She looked at Celia.
“In your clan, besides you, who else has connections with the church?”
“When the Inquisitor mentioned Aiweier, her tone… it didn’t sound like just anyone. And she said that back then Aiweier was seduced by you people like this, meaning it happened in the past and was related to the Dark Elves. In your clan, is there any elder who had dealings with the church?”
Celia searched her memory for related clues.
The faces of the elders in her homeland flashed by one by one: Sister Violet, Sister Selina, and the occasional names she had heard, clan members she wasn’t very familiar with.
“No,” she shook her head.
“Elves and the church have never had much interaction. Especially Dark Elves—they have nothing to do with the Holy State. As far as I can remember, I know nothing about this.”
“Then it must be from the more distant past. But the Inquisitor knows. Based on your age, the only thing you wouldn’t know about is the Anti-Demon War.”