“Zane has launched a coup! He wants to kill Earl Harris and seize the town!”
“What?!”
Tia’s breath hitched at the news.
Her pale blue eyes reflected the burning towers in the distance.
She turned to look at Mephia, her fingers unconsciously twisting together.
“Lady Mephia, I…”
Mephia seemed to see right through her thoughts.
She slowly shook her head, scanning the panicking crowds.
“If you are going to find Earl Harris, I will not be going with you,” she said.
“To me,” Mephia continued, “the life or death of the Count is irrelevant. I care more about the lives of the residents. It is my duty to stop the disaster from spreading and to minimize casualties.”
It was true; the Inquisitors of the Inquisition were never soldiers belonging to a specific individual.
From the very beginning, they were positions established by the Empire to protect the common people.
Tia’s lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but she was silenced by the blunt refusal.
She looked at Mephia, a trace of understanding appearing in her eyes.
She released her grip on her skirt, her fingertips slightly white from the force.
“I understand,” she whispered.
Her voice was somewhat raspy, but she no longer hesitated.
She turned and rushed toward the inner city.
With no one to protect her and only her own strength to rely on, there was a high probability she would die on the way to the manor.
Mephia finally looked at her again, her tone carrying a rare hint of inquiry.
“Are you going even then? As far as I know, he hasn’t been particularly kind to you.”
Her words made Tia pause in her tracks.
Then, the girl lifted her head to meet Mephia’s gaze.
The stubbornness and sense of responsibility belonging to Celestia were clearly visible in her eyes.
“Regardless of everything, he is still my father.”
Having said that, she blended into the frantic crowd and vanished from Mephia’s sight.
At that moment, a shrill voice rang out in Mephia’s ear.
Her familiar, Elsa, finally unable to endure the silence, spoke up.
“It is normal for you not to understand her. After all, you have never known a father’s love since the day you were born.”
Her words caused Mephia’s eyes to darken.
However, she did not deny it.
She simply reached out and gently brushed a flake of ash from her shoulder.
Immediately afterward, the screams and pleas for mercy of the familiar, Elsa, could be heard.
***
Irene had been a newly appointed Inquisitor for exactly one month.
But what she had seen during this one month had shattered every imagination she had held regarding justice and glory.
She had originally thought that all Inquisitors were beings of high moral character, but after truly entering their ranks, she realized the darkness within was not a bit less than that of the outside world.
Within this one month, she had personally seen colleagues accept “thank-you gifts” from merchants without batting an eye.
She had heard their impatient sneers when commoners reported crimes.
She had witnessed the badges representing justice and kindness become privileged credentials for some to oppress the weak.
Tonight, for reasons unknown, Hela City had fallen into chaos.
The cries of the people and the sounds of explosions pierced through the thick stone walls of the Inquisition, leaving Irene feeling distracted and frustrated.
She gripped the hilt of her standard-issue longsword, which had yet to be stained by true sin, until her knuckles turned white.
She rushed into the hall of the Inquisition, only to find a few scattered people there.
Most of her colleagues were indifferently organizing documents, while some were nowhere to be found.
A middle-aged Inquisitor with an oily mustache blocked her path.
He held a cup of steaming black tea, his expression arrogant and his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather.
“Irene? There is no need for you to go out for something like this. It is just a coup.”
‘Just a coup?’
Irene’s feet felt bolted to the floor.
The firelight outside the Inquisition flickered, illuminating her bloodless cheeks.
‘So, the ordinary people being cruelly hunted by monsters in the streets are just victims of a coup? And what good could a coup launched by someone who can control those twisted monsters be?!’
She violently pushed away the hand blocking her and rushed into the streets thick with smoke and the smell of blood without looking back.
A few muffled complaints and sneers followed her, but she no longer had the heart to care.
The scene of the actual disaster was more horrifying than she had imagined.
Buildings were burning, and severed limbs were mixed with rubble.
Survivors sat on the ground in small groups, weeping.
A few familiar Inquisitors were fighting desperately against monsters, attempting to guide the crowd.
In the mouth of an alley nearby, two monsters covered in slimy scales were snarling as they pounced toward a pair of panicked maids.
The younger maid seemed terrified; her face was exceptionally pale, and her breathing was shallow.
The older one shielded her behind her back, clutching a blood-stained longsword she had found somewhere.
Irene did not even have time to think.
She rushed in front of the monsters immediately.
Although she only possessed Iron Rank strength, these two monsters were of the lowest grade.
After a brief clash, she quickly slew them both.
Gasping for breath, she turned to look at the shaken pair.
“Are you two alright?”
The older maid took a deep breath and tightly held her weakened younger sister.
“We—we are fine. Thank you, Inquisitor.”
The younger maid looked up then, pleading urgently, “Inquisitor, please, can you take us back to the manor? The Young Lady… she is still inside!”
‘The Young Lady? The manor?’
Irene’s heart sank slightly.
Images of arrogant faces in luxurious halls flashed through her mind, and she remembered the eager expressions of her colleagues when dealing with cases involving the nobility.
‘If the Inquisitors are like this, the noble young ladies they protect are likely just another group of refined egoists.’
However, she did not let this thought or her distaste show on her face, especially when facing such hopeful, tearful eyes.
She shook her head tiredly, her tone as gentle as possible while remaining firm.
“I am sorry. There are still many people waiting for me to save them. As for the Young Lady you mentioned…”
Just then, a clear female voice filled with shock and worry came from the other end of the alley.
“Viola? Lily?!”
Irene and the maids turned their heads at the same time.
A young girl dressed in an exquisite gown, her radiant beauty hard to hide even when stained with ash, was running toward them.
She seemed completely unconcerned that the hem of her skirt was covered in filth.
Her deep blue eyes were full of anxiety as she rushed straight to the two maids.
“Young Lady!”
Viola took a step forward, looking Tia over carefully.
“Are you alright?!”
“I am fine.”
Tia also looked them over.
She breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing they were uninjured, then asked in confusion, “Why are you here?”
Lily explained weakly, “We were coming back from a task at the Church when we ran into those monsters. This Inquisitor saved us.”
With a single glance, Tia could tell that Lily had used a Witch’s magic power earlier.
The reason she was so weak now was surely because she had exhausted her magic power to the point of collapse.
Tia finally turned her gaze to Irene, her eyes filled with sincere gratitude.
She lifted her skirt in a polite bow.
“Thank you very much, Inquisitor. I am Tia, the daughter of Earl Harris.”
‘The daughter of the City Lord?’
The small bit of preconceived prejudice in Irene’s heart wavered slightly.
After all, she had heard of Celestia; in the rumors, she was a kind and gentle Noble Young Lady.
Still, since she was safe, Irene had no reason to stay any longer.
“No need for thanks. This was my duty. However, since the Young Lady is unharmed, I will take my leave.”
Just as Irene turned to go, the sound of more slimy crawling echoed from the shadows.
Viola grabbed her wrist, her five fingers exceptionally cold, her voice trembling.
“We… it seems we are surrounded by monsters…”