In some ways, Waver was far too kind for his own good. If it hadn't been for his adoptive sister, Reines El-Melloi Archisorte, he would have been devoured--bones and all--by the old foxes of the Clock Tower's political arena long ago.
Even if Reines was the very person responsible for most of Waver's current misery.
London, Charing Cross Road.
Lord Lorelei Barthomeloi stood before a cylindrical, futuristic skyscraper with a mirrored glass facade.
The massive glass doors slid open automatically as she approached.
Emblazoned across the entrance were several large characters: CITY MAGISPHIA.
"The stench of decay."
Lorelei's face twisted in an expression of pure disgust. Suppressing the urge to turn around and leave immediately, she stepped inside.
Ignoring the startled glances from the people around her, she walked straight into an elevator as if she owned the place. She channeled a small amount of prana into the panel and pressed a button for the non-existent 45th basement level.
"Welcome, esteemed Lord, Vice-Director, Lorelei Barthomeloi."
"Stay away from me, Ognyan Hoxha."
The man who stepped forward was wearing a tattered, dusty business suit. His face was stained with grime, looking as though he hadn't bothered with basic grooming in weeks.
Hearing her cold greeting, Ognyan came to an awkward halt.
"Please accept my sincerest apologies. Time has been short, and I haven't had a moment for proper cleaning. To welcome you in such a state is a disgrace."
Ognyan bowed at a ninety-degree angle, his voice dripping with earnestness.
"The Bureau of Secret Remains (Excavation of Secret Remains) doesn't fall under the jurisdiction of my Department of Policies. There's no need for such formality."
Lorelei frowned, find the ambient smell increasingly unbearable. "What is so urgent that you couldn't say it over the phone? Why go through the trouble of dragging me here personally?"
"Precisely because this doesn't concern the Policies Department, a certain level of humility is required when asking for a favor."
Ognyan took a deep breath and instinctively stepped forward before remembering her earlier warning and stopping in his tracks. "It concerns the Spiritual Tomb, Albion."
"What of it? Has another significant figure escaped? If so, you should be speaking to the Bureau of Sealing Designation on the lower levels, not the Bureau of the First Principle."
"You misunderstand, Lord." A bitter smile touched Ognyan's lips.
"Then what? Is someone selling cursed items they shouldn't be? Does Policies need to mediate a dispute?"
Ognyan's heart skipped a beat; he didn't dare let her continue. "The entrance to the Spiritual Tomb has developed a problem."
"A new crack? Where?"
"At the bottom of the Thames."
Lorelei's expression turned grave. "How large?"
"Ten meters long and two meters wide. We've managed to temporarily block the opening, but the rift is incredibly unstable. We're concerned about a major incident. Should the river water flood in, the damage to the Clock Tower would be catastrophic. We're asking for your help. As the only Grand-rank magus currently at the Clock Tower, we need you to seal the rift."
"Hmph."
Lorelei let out a sound that was either a sneer or a dismissive grunt. "In the absence of the Director, it's my responsibility as Vice-Director to step in. But what is the price?"
Ognyan's body stiffened. He forced a dry, awkward smile. "There is... a price?"
"You expect a Grand-rank magus to work for free?"
Lorelei let out a cold laugh. "Do you think so highly of your Bureau of Secret Remains? I have no personal interest in your meager rewards, but as the head of the Barthomeloi family, it would be a dereliction of my duty if I didn't secure benefits for my house."
Ognyan nodded helplessly.
Only a Barthomeloi could say something like that and make it sound perfectly reasonable. They were, after all, one of the three great aristocrat families that ruled the Clock Tower.
"Which cursed material do you require?" Ognyan asked. In this place, cursed items were the only things that could catch a Lord's interest.
"The Dragon."
"..."
Ognyan looked as if he were on the verge of tears. His face crumbled. "I have no authority over the Secret Remains of the Great Dragon!"
"Don't play the victim with me."
Lorelei's expression didn't shift in the slightest as she watched his performance. "Don't think I'm ignorant of the back-room deals you've made with other Lords. If I'm to step in, I expect an equal exchange. I won't ask for the dragon itself, but I want a high-grade draconic item. A scale or a tooth will suffice. And I only want one."
Ognyan fell into a long silence before eventually gritting his teeth and nodding. "Fine."
Lorelei turned with elegant grace, waving a metal-gloved hand over her shoulder.
"Prepare the materials first. Notify me once they're ready."
As she walked through the automatic doors of the skyscraper, Lorelei spotted Hishiri Adashino waiting for her. "Has there been word?"
"There has. Lorelei Sherry has completed her investigation. After repeated interrogations using the secret arts of Spiritual Evocation, she finally secured a lead. The person who hired the assassin is likely the Lord of Astronomy."
Lorelei came to a halt.
"Astronomy? Why would they be involved? How strange."
'...How strange.'
Following the trail of his detection magecraft, Wayland had left the Slur Street district behind. He glanced in the direction the magic was pointing.
It was leading straight toward the Clock Tower.
Based on their earlier behavior, the two ghosts were incredibly secretive within the walls of the Clock Tower. During their fight the previous night, they had done everything possible to avoid making a sound, and the moment they were discovered, they had vanished instantly.
Yet their lair was pointing toward the Clock Tower itself?
This was the primary academic building, the place where the vast majority of students and lecturers in General Fundamentals were concentrated.
To hide here was practically suicidal.
Filled with doubt, Wayland approached the Clock Tower, but eventually came to a stop at the edge of London Bridge.
'Is the direction... underwater?'
Wayland stared at the river in confusion. What was going on? Did ghosts suddenly know how to swim or deep-sea dive?
[Translated and Rewritten by Shika_Kagura]