CHAPTER 82: MARK MY WORDS, LAWLESS

The carriage rumbled to a stop, its black lacquered wood gleaming beneath the light of the moon.

Osiris Lawless stepped down, his polished boots striking the cobblestones with a clock, the rhythm lost in the buzz that filled the open space.

His eyes, cold and blank, swept across the chaotic scene before him.

His people were already here, the insignia of the Investigation Authority emblazoned on their coats, standing off against the armored soldiers of Camelot’s standing army.

Words were exchanged in loud, clipped tones, each side trying to assert dominance over the other.

The stench of blood and charred flesh still hung thick in the air.

Osiris tilted his head back, gazing upward at the fading remnants of a storm still echoing in the sky. The magical pressure could still be felt faintly in the air, like static on the skin, but the caster himself was gone.

Stormborn had already departed.

Osiris’ lips pressed into the faintest line, then he lowered his gaze, striding towards the soldiers as if nothing about the clash of authority perturbed him.

The head of the soldiers straightened as Osiris approached. He began to speak, but Osiris raised a hand, silencing him.

"This matter falls under the jurisdiction of the Investigation Authority," he said, his voice calm yet absolute, each word filled with command. "You will pull back your men. Guard the perimeter, but this case is mine."

The soldier commander stiffened, jaw clenched in visible frustration.

But Osiris’ rank was higher, and the truth of his words was undeniable. After a pause, he gave the order, his men spreading out in a defensive ring around the marketplace.

With that settled, Osiris gestured to one of his agents, who quickly moved to guide him.

"Show me," Osiris said.

They wove through the scorched wreckage, past the broken stalls and shattered cobblestones, until they reached the center of the devastation.

There, lying amidst the rubble, was the corpse. Charred patches of flesh still smoked faintly, her body twisted unnaturally, but her face, miraculously, remained whole.

Osiris crouched, studying her with eyes that gleamed with a detached fascination. His gloved fingers traced the air above the burns, not touching, but observing.

Then, without hesitation, he pressed his thumb against her eyelid, prying it open.

The eye that stared back was not the bright blue color of Juniper Rowe’s. It was blackened through, the sclera swallowed in demonic corruption.

"Interesting." Osiris murmured. His tone held neither pity nor sorrow, only the clinical tone of a man studying a specimen.

"Report." He said without turning.

One of his agents stepped forward, voice tight. "We’ve been able to determine that it’s a... hybrid between human and demon."

Osiris said nothing, as that was the conclusion he had come to since the moment he saw the eyes. But how was that possible?

"The hybrid manifestation occurred approximately an hour ago, sir." The agent continued. "Witnesses claim the subject appeared through a portal above the market square."

"She was initially mistaken for an ordinary citizen until she revealed demonic traits. Civilians fled. Casualties are still being counted."

"Low-ranked mages engaged, then soldiers. The hybrid sustained severe injuries, but was capable of regenerating. She killed dozens before the Stormborn intervened. His lightning overwhelmed her, resulting in the corpse before you."

Osiris nodded once, standing slowly. His gaze remained on Juniper’s face.

"Juniper Rowe." He said softly. Not a question. A confirmation.

"She has been missing for more than a month." The agent added carefully. "Who knew what did this to her?"

Osiris’ mouth curved the faintest fraction. "So this is what became of her."

Straightening, he brushed invisible dust from his coat. "Canvass the area." He ordered, his tone brisk. "Any trace of the portal remains, residual magic, demonic signatures, I want it captured. Sift the rubble. Tear up the streets if you must. Evidence is all that matters."

The men snapped to attention. "Yes, sir."

Before his commands could spread fully, a loud commotion broke out at the perimeter.

Shouts, clattering armor, and then the crowd parted violently as a man forced his way through. His black hair was disheveled, his blue eyes wild with grief.

Lord Rowe.

He stumbled into the wreckage, heedless of the Authority agents moving to restrain him. His gaze fell on the body, and for a heartbeat, his world froze.

The noble lord dropped to his knees, his hands trembling as he reached out and pulled his daughter’s body into his arms.

"No..." His voice cracked. "No, no, no!" The grief tore through the air as he clutched her, rocking her lifeless form against his chest. "Juniper! My sweet girl! Wake up!"

Osiris gave him the moment. He watched impassively, his hands folded neatly behind his back, his face betraying nothing as the nobleman’s sobs echoed through the broken square.

But duty remained. Osiris’ voice cut through the grief. "The body is evidence, Lord Rowe. It belongs to the Investigation Authority."

Lord Rowe’s head snapped up, his face a mask of raw fury streaked with tears. He lowered Juniper carefully, then surged to his feet, seizing Osiris by the collar of his immaculate coat.

"You dare!" Lord Rowe roared, spittle flying. "She is my daughter! My blood! If you touch her, I will end you. I will end your family, your name, your entire bloodline will be erased!" His voice cracked with rage, shaking as much with heartbreak as with fury.

The Authority agents moved, hands reaching for weapons, but Osiris did not flinch. His gaze met Lord Rowe’s, calm and steady, utterly unshaken.

"Listen well." Osiris said evenly, his voice cutting through the storm of emotion. "This is an investigation into demons. If you hinder us, if you obstruct this case, you will not only face me. The nobles will turn on you. The king himself will condemn you. Because by impeding us, you are impeding the war effort."

The words landed like hammer blows. For a moment, Lord Rowe trembled, his grip loosening. His chest heaved, his teeth bared in impotent rage.

"You will pay for this." He hissed. His voice was lower now, but it carried the venom of a curse. "Mark my words, Lawless. I will have retribution."

Slowly, his hand dropped away. He turned, broken and hollow, his steps unsteady as he walked back toward the soldiers.

Osiris calmly straightened his collar, smoothing the wrinkles where Lord Rowe’s hand had gripped. His expression remained unreadable.

"Collect the body." He ordered coldly. "The investigation begins now."

And as the corpse of Juniper Rowe was lifted from the ground, her father’s sobs still echoing in the distance, Osiris turned his gaze back to the horizon, where Stormborn’s storm had already vanished.

Things were becoming even more... interesting than he anticipated.