Graves slumped against the base of the wall, his chest heaving violently.
But before he could catch his breath from that close call, his gaze suddenly fixed on the remains. He saw it too—that was a meticulously crafted puppet doppelganger.
Graves’s face turned extremely ugly. He clenched his teeth and forced out a sentence.
“That’s a blood contract golem… Made from the flesh and blood of a living person mixed with clay and magic crystal powder. It can disguise the user’s aura and strength, but only for a limited time. Once the time is up, it’s just a pile of rotting meat.”
He took a sharp breath.
“So that Snake didn’t come in person at all. What came was just bait he sent out to test the waters.”
Ailiya didn’t respond. She walked over to the still-smoldering remains, crouched down, and a wisp of faint magic power flowed from her fingertips, probing into the wreckage.
The magical power feedback was identical to that of “Snake” from before—based on magic perception alone, she would have found it difficult to tell the difference in a short time.
“From the very beginning, he never intended to come down himself.” Ailiya withdrew her hand and stood up.
“He just wanted to see what other cards you had hidden in the shadows. After all, he didn’t know if you had an ambush set up. Rushing in rashly would have made him an easy target for your magic gun.”
She paused.
“Now he knows. He knows there’s someone by your side, he just doesn’t know exactly who.”
Graves was silent for a moment, then supported himself against the wall and slowly stood up.
“Then… what do we do now?”
“Retreat.” Ailiya turned and walked toward the other end of the corridor.
“The doppelganger he sent is already wrecked. If he wants to lock onto our position again, he’ll have to come down into this muddy water himself. But before that, he’ll first confirm whether we’re still in the original spot, so let’s get farther away.”
The two of them, one after the other, soon disappeared deeper into the passage. Graves didn’t say another word, limping along to keep up with her.
Meanwhile, on the second floor of a jewelry shop in the Royal capital.
The curtains were heavy, letting in no light.
Snake was standing in the center of the room, his back to the door.
His fingers were tapping absently on the edge of the table, the rhythm alternating between fast and slow.
Suddenly, his fingers stopped.
“Dead,” he said softly, his tone not surprised, but rather carrying a calm of “just as I thought.”
In the room, another woman’s voice came from the corner.
“Smashed head-on by Graves’s magic gun? Your golem shouldn’t be that fragile.”
“…It wasn’t entirely killed by Graves.” Snake turned around. His long face showed little expression, but there was a chill in his eyes.
“The golem was indeed shattered by one shot, but before my golem was destroyed, it had already taken down two people first.”
He paused.
“Those two second-order operatives were killed at close range. The technique was clean and efficient, not Graves’s style. Graves specializes in mid-to-long-range sniping, not this kind of silent, invisible close-quarters assassination.”
The woman in the corner was silent for a moment.
“So… there’s someone else by his side.”
“And someone very skilled in stealth,” Snake added coldly. “With second-order perception, they couldn’t even raise an alarm before having their throat slit. This level of skill is rare even within the Night Owl.”
Snake walked to the window, lifted a corner of the curtain, and glanced at the gray street outside.
“Interesting. A defected third-rank gunman, and he’s got this level of helper hidden by his side.”
He let the curtain fall and turned around.
“Too bad she hid too well. My golem couldn’t force her to reveal more of her cards.”
“But it doesn’t matter. As long as they’re still in this city, there will always be an opportunity.”
He picked up a thumb-sized black stone from the table and slowly rotated it between his fingers.
***
The next day.
When Ailiya returned to Kastian Villa, it was already close to noon.
The sunlight was just right, warming the villa’s light-colored outer walls.
She slipped in through the side door, her hood still half-pulled down, covering most of her face. Her steps were steady, showing no sign of anything unusual.
But as she passed through the corridor, the faint, lingering smell of blood that hadn’t completely dissipated was carried away by the wind through the half-open windows, but not enough to completely escape an old butler’s sense of smell.
When she turned the corner on the second-floor corridor, Butler Carl had already been standing quietly by the side of the hall, without her noticing when he had arrived.
He held a cup of hot tea in his hand, steam still rising. His movements were unhurried, and his gaze swept over her briefly, examining her from head to toe.
“Miss Ailiya, welcome back.” His tone was as steady as usual. “Madame has already finished her morning meal. Young Master Leo is practicing in the backyard.”
He paused, then added, “Seems a bit more focused than usual.”
Ailiya nodded slightly, not dwelling on the topic.
“Thank you, Mr. Carl. I’ll go to my room first to change clothes.”
Carlisle gave a slight nod, asked no further questions, and turned with his teacup to walk to the other end of the corridor.
Backyard of the villa.
The sunlight slanted onto the gray stone floor, casting long shadows from the wooden targets.
Leo stood in the center of the yard, his breathing already ragged, but his hand holding the magic staff remained steady, maintaining the spellcasting stance.
He had just finished several rounds of rapid shots, and the remnants of the water bullets left winding traces on the ground. The traces overlapped, old and new, indicating he had been here for quite some time.
He was about to suppress his gasps and start another round when his peripheral vision caught a figure passing through the corridor.
His movement paused, and his gaze involuntarily drifted over.
“…Back?”
“Yeah.” Ailiya responded, tilting her head slightly. “Butler Carl told me the Young Master was very focused on his morning lessons today.”
Her tone carried no evaluation or praise.
But Leo’s eyebrows still lifted briefly in pleasure, then he forced them back down.
“Of course, when have I ever not been focused?”
Ailiya didn’t answer.
He waited two seconds, and when she didn’t call him out as usual, he felt a bit awkward. He cleared his throat and scuffed the fallen leaves with his toe.
“Then… your side of things… went smoothly?”
“Fairly smoothly.” Ailiya didn’t elaborate. “Finished handling it, so I came back.”
Leo was taken aback for a moment, then turned his head away as if to hide something, raising his voice.
“Alright, alright, you go do your thing. I still have to practice…”
He reset his starting stance and began chanting a spell, his voice sounding very focused.
It wasn’t until the sound of her footsteps had indeed left the corridor and completely disappeared behind the door that he stopped the spell he hadn’t even been properly chanting, and let out a long sigh.
“Glad you’re back…”
He stood quietly in the yard for a moment, then raised his staff and fired a water bullet at the wooden target—clearly stronger than intended.
The target shattered on impact, and even the wall behind it sported spiderweb cracks.
Inside the room.
Elsa sat at her desk, her eyes lowered as she wrote a letter.
The nib of the quill moved steadily across the paper, the handwriting neat.
Hearing a knock, she set down the quill, gently closed the unfinished letter into a thick book, then raised her head, her voice steady.
“Come in.”
The door opened, and Ailiya entered.
She stood a step inside the door, neither moving forward nor speaking immediately.
Elsa leaned back in her chair, her gaze calm as she watched her.
After a brief silence, Elsa spoke first.
“Something on your mind? Say it.”
“There’s something I’d like to ask for Madame’s help with.”
“Oh? What help?”
Elsa raised an eyebrow in slight surprise.
This was the first time this extremely independent—even somewhat proud—silver-haired girl had taken the initiative to ask her for help.
“Help me treat someone.”
Elsa didn’t answer immediately.
She picked up the cup of tea that had already gone half-cold, took a sip, and fixed her gaze on a point outside the window, as if thinking.
After a moment, she set down the teacup, her tone still gentle, but with a hint of distance.