Magician in Type-Moon

Page 656

"At my age, having witnessed too much illusion and change, sometimes I just don't want to look in the mirror anymore. What I see is no longer my appearance, but the marks of time and the weariness of my soul."

She paused, her tone suddenly becoming extremely sharp and realistic, carrying a chilling dark humor:

"Since it was bound to turn out like this sooner or later, I should have had more plastic surgeries when I was younger and before my skin started to sag. Maybe I would look better now."

She abruptly steered the conversation away from philosophical discussions and back to a blunt, even vulgar, jest about the inevitable decay of one's own body, as if the tragic death of the Golden Princess was merely a cautionary tale about the ultimate negative aspect of "beauty and skincare."

This sudden, almost cruel sense of reality, in stark contrast to her status as a monarch and the tragedy before her, creates a chilling effect.

The absence of mirrors seems to cast a deeper shadow over the cost of "beauty" and ultimate nothingness.

Perhaps these discussions about mirrors and aging are ultimately just idle chatter that strays from the main topic.

At this moment, the shrewd monarch Enolae skillfully shifted the topic, bringing the focus back to the core event itself.

Her burning eyes met Matou Ike's gaze, and her tone became slightly more serious:

“So, back to the main point. The Golden Princess asked you last night if she could ‘escape’… Is that true?” She needed direct confirmation from him.

"I'm sorry, it's true." Matou Ike frankly admitted this without any hesitation.

In this situation, lying without verifying the facts can worsen the situation and expose more flaws. Being honest about what is known can sometimes give you more control of the conversation.

“Hmm.” Inolai made an ambiguous sound from her throat and continued to press, “What’s the reason? She should at least give you a reason that would make her betray the family.”

“She said it was because the ‘technique’ that Lord Byron used to ‘refine’ them—that is, the Golden Princess and the Silver Princess—had become ‘inefficient’ and even dangerous.”

Matou Ike repeated what she had heard last night, "If things continue as they are, one of them, the Silver Princess, will die sooner or later. In that case, fleeing in 'self-defense' is also a kind of 'duty'."

Yes, she used the word 'obligation'.

It is not a 'right'.

This difference in wording is crucial. It signifies that, in the mind of the Golden Princess Tiade, escape was not a choice born of cowardice, but rather a responsible action necessary to preserve this precious body, considered "the path to the Vortex of Roots."

In other words, the Golden Princess also only regards her body as a 'tool' and 'path' to achieve her ultimate goal, which means that she also has the same objectification consciousness that is taken for granted by magicians.

This kind of calm, almost self-destructive logic is the typical mindset of a magician.

“…I see.” Inole nodded, his face showing little surprise.

"It sounds like... this is indeed a 'very likely' scenario."

She even gave it a thumbs up, saying, "In my opinion, the 'completeness' achieved by the Golden Princess is outstanding, even close to a certain critical point. It's common in this industry for a stage to change, and for previously successful methodologies to no longer be applicable or even have the opposite effect."

She paused, her tone carrying a hint of barely perceptible contempt, "Moreover, if I may be frank, Bai Longqing... cannot be described as a particularly 'flexible' or adaptable person."

Perhaps she already had some idea about it, because the silver-haired old woman tapped her temple with her index finger, hinting at Byron's rigid thinking.

Following this logic, she naturally deduced the next step:

"Then, as the other half of the twins, 'Princess Silver' Estella, may also know some key information and even share the same fears."

Matouchi immediately seized the opportunity to make a request:

"Could you assist us in conducting a one-on-one interrogation of the Silver Princess?" He hoped to use Inolei's authority to pry open the Silver Princess's mouth.

However, "I'm sorry," Inola resolutely refused, drawing a clear line.

“If I were to get involved to that extent, even I would be considered to be ‘blurring the lines between public and private matters.’ My role this time is simply to ensure that you don’t act recklessly and to act as a witness to ‘monitor’ the investigation process, nothing more.”

Despite her straightforward tone and attitude, Inola's decisive way of drawing lines is befitting of a mature 'monarch'. Alas, otherwise, she wouldn't be able to maintain her position as the leader of such a major faction as the Creation Department.

This is a completely different style from that of Lord El-Melloi, who was always embroiled in trouble and had to run around cleaning up messes.

Just as the conversation in the room seemed to have reached a temporary stalemate—

"...When exactly did it start?"

A low murmur, filled with confusion and contemplation, suddenly rang out from behind.

It was Arcueid. She seemed to be listening quietly, but her attention was clearly focused in another direction.

"What did you mean?" Matou Ike turned his head to look at her.

The blonde True Ancestor girl tilted her head slightly, her amber eyes sparkling with pure curiosity and confusion as she struggled to find the words to express herself:

“…Ah, no, I mean the Golden Princess…her face…” She gestured, “Of course, she might have been a beauty from a young age…but for ordinary humans, appearance, bone structure, and temperament should all undergo significant changes during growth…”

Her question was simple and direct, yet it was like an invisible key, gently tapping on a question that had been overlooked by everyone, but might be of paramount importance—

Is the Golden Princess's "ultimate beauty" the result of natural growth, or... the product of some kind of continuous "refinement" and "adjustment" that began much earlier?

Was her beauty, her very existence, planned and shaped long ago?

This seemingly naive question subtly points to a deeper secret and cost that may be hidden within the "Beauty Alchemy" technique of the Izeruma family.

Arcueid's seemingly naive question about "when does beauty begin to take shape" inexplicably tugs at Matou Ike's heartstrings.

This unintentional question, like a wedge, drove into a deeper doubt that was hidden beneath the glamorous facade and the harsh reality.

He paused for a moment, seemingly digesting the complex possibilities that might lie behind this seemingly simple question.

Immediately, a superhuman power began to surge within the depths of his eyes. The demonic eyes within his sockets began to undergo subtle and precise changes, the patterns in the pupils adjusting their focus and perception modes like a precision instrument.

The vision of the future is activated, and it begins to observe every tiny corner of the room, every trace of magic, and every possible overlooked mark from a perspective beyond that of ordinary people.

His gaze, like an invisible probe, swept over the blood-soaked bed, the ornate furniture, the empty dressing table…

Finally, his gaze lingered on the corner of the damaged door—scattered with fragments of wood cracked from when he kicked it and a few loose pieces of stone flooring.

There seemed to be some extremely faint, discordant residual sensation there.

Matou Ike walked forward calmly and squatted down. He stretched out his finger and rubbed it very lightly between the wood fragments and the stone floor. He felt an unusual sensation at his fingertips.

Something was stuck to his finger.

It is extremely rare, almost imperceptible to the naked eye, and only has a subtle granular texture.

He raised his finger, brought it close to his eyes, and examined it carefully with the help of the superhuman vision of the magic eye.

This is... powder? No, it's lighter and finer... is it ash...? An extremely fine ash with a special texture.

What caught his attention even more was that when his magic eye continued to focus on this tiny thing, his eyeballs experienced a subtle yet distinct stinging sensation.

...This means that this thing 'inherently possesses some kind of magic', right?

An unusual, slightly different magical tone from the Izeruma Workshop he was familiar with lingered.

Considering this is a magician's residence, it's not surprising that it's covered in magical dust, but its presence in this location, along with the peculiar stinging sensation, makes it seem particularly out of place.

“…Matou?” Arcueid keenly noticed his subtle pause and focus.

"What's wrong?" Inole asked, her wine glass pausing slightly.

Matou Ike instantly regained his composure, as if he had merely squatted down to tie his shoelaces. He calmly stood up and replied indifferently:

"...It's nothing. Just a few crumbs."

He casually took out a clean handkerchief from his pocket and, with extremely skillful and discreet movements, carefully wrapped the fingertip covered with the strange powder. Then, quietly and imperceptibly, he put the small handkerchief containing the key evidence into the inner pocket of his pocket.

Having done all this, he dusted off non-existent dust from his hands, turned to Inola, and calmly stated:

"...In short, I've seen enough of the site. I need some time to 'organize my thoughts' and clear my head. Please allow me to go back to my room for a bit."

This request is perfectly reasonable. Even a detective needs time to process information. And under the "surveillance" of a monarch, he obviously couldn't do anything underhanded in the room—at least not outwardly.

Inole's burning eyes lingered on his face for a moment, as if trying to discern something, but in the end she simply nodded slightly.

“Okay. But don’t leave the tower’s perimeter.” She gave the most basic restriction.

Matou Ike bowed slightly, said nothing more, and, with Arcueid in tow, turned and left the room, which was still filled with a heavy atmosphere of bloodshed and mystery.

His steps were steady, but his mind was racing. That tiny, insignificant "ash" in his arms might be the first, and most crucial, piece to unlock the entire mystery. He needed to analyze it as soon as possible.

Chapter 681 Mick (4k)

They left the oppressive and bloody room of the Moon Tower and returned to the outdoors.

The rising sun cast its grotesque, tilted shadow deep onto the lakeside land, creating a long, distorted silhouette.

The refreshing southerly wind of autumn blows gently, causing the green grassland to undulate like gentle waves, temporarily washing away the nauseating bloody memories from my nasal cavity.

If it weren't for the current bizarre and dangerous situation, first-time visitors might sincerely admire and think that the "exquisitely beautiful" environment created for the Golden Princess and Silver Princess is indeed as scenic and blessed as it is.

However, at this moment, the beautiful scenery only seems particularly ironic, as if nature is completely unaware of, or indifferent to, the tragedy that occurred inside the tower.

"...Matou, what should we do next?" Arcueid asked softly, her amber eyes looking at him with concern and innocent doubt about the unknown. She seemed to completely trust his judgment.

“Well, I suppose I’ve set up a little ‘insurance,’” Matou Ike answered vaguely, perhaps referring to the strange ash he was hiding, or some other unspoken arrangement. “As for us…”

He was only halfway through his sentence when a cute, soft purring sound suddenly broke the silence.

Arcueid immediately pressed her hand to her stomach in embarrassment. This small but human gesture made Matou Ike realize that they had completely missed breakfast.

From receiving the invitation in the early morning to discovering the tragedy, and then dealing with various parties, their highly stressed nerves made them completely forget about their physical needs.

Seeing Arcueid's somewhat embarrassed expression, Matou Ike couldn't help but chuckle, his tense emotions easing slightly. He decisively made a decision:

“Anyway,” he said, his tone becoming pragmatic, “let’s eat something first. You can’t think on an empty stomach.”

“Okay.” Arcueid nodded immediately, his eyes lighting up like a large feline waiting to be fed.

Matou Ike stretched out his hand, his magic slightly shifting, and several more fruits, with their alluring colors and pure life force, condensed in his palm—creations born from the power of the 'Blood Ring of Principle'. He handed them to Arcueid.

After doing that, he went to the suitcase that was placed to the side, opened it, and took out several rather elegant-looking bottled cans.

He skillfully opened the can, revealing a delicate foie gras pâté.

He then took out some hard biscuits, spread a thick layer of foie gras pâté on one of them, added a suitable amount of pickled vegetables, and carefully sandwiched it between another biscuit. His movements were fluid, and the finished product actually looked quite presentable.

The trick is to spread a thick layer of foie gras pâté. Even if it doesn't look very fancy, as long as the foie gras pâté itself is of good quality, it will definitely taste delicious.

Close your eyes and feel the food melt in your mouth before slowly entering your stomach. The warm feeling of fullness gradually dispels the coldness and tension in your body.

Matou Ike could clearly feel the restlessness in her heart caused by bloodshed, conspiracy and pressure, which was slowly calming down with this simple act of eating.

The slightly muddled thinking that had been running at high speed gradually returned to its original clarity and calm.

The brief silence was abruptly shattered. The guest room door was opened without any knocking.

The movements weren't particularly forceful, but they carried a sense of uninhibitedness and even a somewhat provocative rudeness.

"Excuse me for a moment?" a voice rang out, belonging to the dark-skinned, muscular curse magician, Mike Gragillier.

He stood at the doorway, a seemingly easygoing smile on his face, but with eyes as sharp as an eagle's.