CHAPTER 19: CHAPTER19-WHO WAS IT?

"Minister Troy, you must have heard about the annihilation of the Blackfish Gang, haven’t you?"

Captain Aris fixed his sharp gaze upon Troy as he spoke. His tone was calm, but beneath that calmness was an edge that made it clear this was no casual inquiry.

Troy narrowed his eyes, his mind racing with speculation. So... that explains why Captain Aris came here unannounced. He’s here because of that matter.

The silence stretched for a moment before Aris continued, his voice steady and deliberate.

"You are well aware of the ties between the Unicorn Trading Guild and ourselves. The young men who perished in the Blackfish Gang’s fall were not mere pawns—they were carefully chosen, nurtured by the Leap Mercenary Corps to become the next generation of elites."

"I came here for one purpose only. To find out the truth. To learn who dared to raise their hand against the Blackfish Gang."

Troy’s expression tightened slightly. He, of all people, knew just how delicate this web of connections was.

The Unicorn Trading Guild owed much of its meteoric rise to the silent backing of the Leap Mercenary Corps. Without that behemoth standing in the shadows, the guild could never have attained its current status. Yet their relationship was not one of simple master and subordinate—it was a complex alliance woven from mutual interests, veiled agreements, and shared enemies.

Thus, those fallen youths, though officially under the Unicorn Guild’s banner, had in truth been disciples of the mercenary corps—treasured assets, resources in whom great hopes had been invested.

Aris’s motives were easy to understand. If someone dared to strike once at the guild’s nurtured Awakeners, what would stop them from striking again? If the enemy remained in the shadows, the entire Leap Mercenary Corps would be left vulnerable, forced into passivity.

Yet there was another concern Aris did not voice aloud. A darker possibility that gnawed at the back of his mind: What if this had been orchestrated by Cardinal Austin, the Red Archbishop of the Ordon Theocracy?

For in all of the Crossbridge Empire, there was no figure the mercenary corps feared more than that man. The sheer might of the Ordon Theocracy eclipsed their own; even the Leap Mercenary Corps, renowned across continents, paled in comparison.

If Austin’s hand lay behind this, then the implications were dire.

Therefore, this incident could not be left unresolved. It had to be investigated thoroughly—and handled with the utmost care.

Troy, after weighing the situation, finally broke his silence. He laid out the fragments of intelligence he had pieced together.

"From what I’ve gathered, the killers of the Blackfish Gang were... ghosts."

He leaned forward, his voice dropping lower. "At least, that is what the witnesses say. Strangely, there has been no movement whatsoever from the Red Archbishop. Austin has not shown his face, nor have his agents made a sound. Personally, I believe it unlikely this was their doing."

"Ghosts?"

Aris’s brows drew together. A peculiar expression flickered across his face. Even he, with all his years of blood-soaked experience, had never once seen a genuine specter.

"You’re certain it was ghosts?"

"These reports come from my informants after questioning multiple eyewitnesses," Troy replied gravely. "Whether the assailants truly were ghosts or merely cloaked assassins, I cannot say. But I’ve already ordered close surveillance on all movements in Eryndor City. The moment new intelligence arises, you will be informed."

Aris nodded slightly, though his frown remained. Before he could speak again, the doors burst open.

A soldier strode in hastily, armor clanking with every step. Upon his chest gleamed the insignia of the Leap Mercenary Corps. He dropped to one knee before Aris and Troy, saluting in rigid formality.

"Vice-Commander! An urgent matter!"

Aris’s frown deepened. His tone turned sharp. "What is it this time? Speak clearly—why the panic?"

The soldier drew in a breath. "Last night, within the fortress of Minister of War Nock, a massacre occurred. It was a slaughter beyond imagination. Everyone in the castle... beheaded. None were spared."

His next words struck like thunder.

"Even Butler Brown of the Unicorn Trading Guild was seized. His limbs were severed, his body mutilated into a pitiful stump before he died in agony!"

"What did you say!?"

Aris shot to his feet, shock flashing across his features. Though Butler Brown had always been more rival than ally—representative of another faction within the guild—his brutal death was staggering news.

Troy, too, rose abruptly from his chair, his face pale with disbelief.

The Minister of War—one of the empire’s highest offices, and Nock, his own staunch lieutenant—had been wiped out in one night? It was unthinkable, a brazen act of defiance against the empire itself.

Who would dare such madness?

Aris’s mind whirled. His brows furrowed deeper as he muttered, half to himself:

"This doesn’t make sense. For all his flaws, Brown was no weakling. His strength was considerable—otherwise he would never have risen to become steward of the Unicorn Trading Guild. If memory serves, he stood only a single step away from Expert Rank."

"And yet such a man was slain, reduced to a crippled corpse? Do you know who carried this out?"

The soldier shook his head, his expression grim. "We’ve uncovered no trace of the culprits. I personally scouted the battlefield. The entire affair is bizarre. There were no enemy bodies, no signs of retreating forces. And most astonishing of all—"

He paused, hesitating before dropping the final revelation.

"—Minister Nock did not die."

The room froze.

"What!?" Both Aris and Troy cried out in unison, disbelief etched upon their faces.

"Nock survived? Then what was the purpose of the attack?"

Yesterday, the Blackfish Gang had been exterminated.

Today, Nock’s household had been torn apart in bloodshed.

And yet no one knew who the enemy was. No one knew their aim.

Who had the power to butcher an Expert Rank Awakener in silence, leaving no trace of their passage?

Aris’s jaw clenched. His voice turned cold.

"Find out. Spare no effort, spare no cost—this must be uncovered."

Meanwhile, at the residence of the Grand Marshal Jacoff, the atmosphere was equally heavy.

Jacoff sat upon a wide leather sofa, a porcelain cup of coffee untouched in his hand. His eyes were dark, his face grave. The report had already reached him: Nock’s fortress had been annihilated.

Now, Nock had never been one of his men. In fact, the Minister of War had often stood in Jacoff’s way, opposing his plans, undermining his moves. When the first tidings came, Jacoff’s initial reaction had been one of grim satisfaction—an obstacle removed.

But when he heard that even Butler Brown had fallen—cut to pieces like livestock—his expression hardened.

This was no mere family feud. This was someone sending a message.

A powerhouse who stood on the brink of Expert Rank had been destroyed without fanfare, and the killers had not hesitated to offend the Unicorn Trading Guild in the process.

Who is stirring the waters like this?

Jacoff’s mind instantly leapt to possibilities. Was this the hand of the Ordon Theocracy? Could it be the design of the dreaded Cardinal Austin? Or was there another power moving behind the veil?

What unsettled him most was that Nock had been spared. That detail twisted the entire puzzle into something unfathomable.

Why leave the Minister alive? Why slaughter all others yet deliberately let the man himself breathe?

The more Jacoff pondered, the darker his mood grew.

"Track down the culprits," he commanded, voice low and iron-hard. "I want answers. I want their origin revealed."

He set down his cup with a soft clink and added, "And send word to the Tarris School. Ask if their scholars have perceived any hidden truths behind these events."

A subordinate vanished instantly, departing to carry out his orders.

Jacoff leaned back against the sofa, his gaze drifting toward the distant horizon. His eyes narrowed into slits.

"So... another player enters the board. Someone hungers to claim a share of the empire’s feast."

The storm had only just begun.

But the question resounded across the empire, in the courts, in the guild halls, in the mercenary camps, and in the shadows where whispers carried:

Who was it?