Chapter 20

The interview was taking somewhat longer than expected, and Vykada tried her best to hide her growing unease.

‘Hmm, he doesn’t seem like the type…’

High-ranking wizards often summon their disciples for experiments under the guise of training. For a modest wandering troupe like this one, kidnapping without consent wouldn’t even register as a serious offense.

Surely they weren’t trying to recruit Niobe as a disciple. She had only recently joined but proved quite capable at various tasks, making her rather useful.

If they were to sell her, it wouldn’t be some coercive deal with a high-ranking wizard—it would have to go through an auction house where she could fetch her proper value.

As Vykada paced anxiously outside the door, Ortes emerged. Vykada quickly glanced inside to check Niobe’s expression. She looked slightly tense, but otherwise normal.

“Miss Niobe is innocent. Hmm, I mistook her for someone with considerable magical talent and thought she might be Geryon’s contact.”

“B-but that’s true! Our troupe is blameless!”

Ortes’ statement about “considerable magical talent” sent a wave of tension through Vykada. However, Ortes simply moved on silently to the next room without any mention of taking Niobe away.

***

“…This concludes our findings regarding the Vykada Wandering Troupe.”

Ortes presented his investigative report to the board members during their meeting:

1. The Vykada Wandering Troupe conducted rituals resembling Bacchus worship.

2. However, these rites were far too crude to qualify as legitimate ceremonies; there was no proper ritual procedure in place.

3. No sacred relics imbued with divine power or priests were found, suggesting this was more akin to superstition than religion.

“It seems they may have come across a distorted form of an old ritual meant to invoke good fortune, or perhaps remnants of an ancient cult circulating among wanderers.”

The board members sensed the subtle tension between the chairman and Ortes. Clearly, this was Ortes’ moment to report his first failure.

Though it didn’t significantly harm the company’s main objectives, this was still considered a minor setback—a failure nonetheless. From the perspective of those who had witnessed Ortes’ fervent devotion to Carisia, they anticipated him pleading humbly for forgiveness.

Failure in carrying out a mission entrusted by the object of worship is not something a zealot can tolerate.

“Mr. Chairman, we’ve found no leads from the Vykada troupe.”

Yet why did Ortes face Carisia with a calm smile instead of sorrow?

“I see. Then, let us conclude the meeting here.”

The board members prepared to leave, ready to fulfill their roles in the ongoing operations of the organization. But Carisia’s voice stopped them.

“Ah, Director Arabel and Director Divius, please stay behind for a moment.”

The other six directors couldn’t fathom why these two were asked to remain. While it made sense for Arabel, who worked closely with Ortes at the Information Guild, why include Divius, known for his expertise in illegal human modifications?

Divius adjusted the drill attached to his medieval-style helmet and nodded.

“Hurry up. I’ve got surgery scheduled.”

***

In Divius’ eyes, the chairman and his lover of Hydra Corp were completely insane.

“Well, sure, slashing swords and firing beams while brawling is understandable…”

But their subsequent actions were problematic. Instead of merely dominating Etna City for wealth and fame—

“—or rather, controlling Pythos Tower makes sense, but there’s no honor in the underworld.”

Had they aimed solely for riches, their motives would have been comprehensible. But Carisia and Ortes chose a different path entirely.

They dismantled Lernian Tower, unified the underworld, captured Geryon as a prisoner, and brainwashed Caike into absolute obedience.

Ordinarily, gaining control over all the magic towers in a city equates to securing lifelong power. Most people’s ambitions end there, or they use such influence to become part of Proper Tower.

However, these two sought to create a new “kingdom.”

The title of Ten Towers is reserved for those possessing the Ten Sages. In ancient times, before the current stability of the Ten Towers, there were Succession Wars, and the title of Ten Towers was occasionally passed down.

Nowadays, though, the Succession War is essentially a defunct law—anyone can challenge, but no one does.

Such is the overwhelming presence and fear inspired by the Ten Towers.

Despite this, the duo devised an unprecedented method to avoid war with the Ten Towers while creating a new throne.

What kind of life must they have lived to conceive such ideas and harbor such ambitions?

They weren’t naive newcomers or fools challenging the Ten Towers without understanding their true strength. The ability to manipulate an entire city demonstrated skills far beyond those of inexperienced individuals.

“Director Divius.”

Carisia looked at him, radiating an aura reminiscent of the high-ranking mages of the Ten Towers she once served.

Her head tilted slightly—an action that prompted Ortes to respond.

“The Chairman wishes to know if you still remember the methods of bodily modification used by Blasphemia.”

An unexpected word struck Divius at an unexpected moment. He felt a phantom pain as if a blade had pierced his lungs.

“Blasphemia? The execution squad of the Ten Towers? Why bring that up now?”

Arabel spoke before Divius could reply, her expression betraying confusion at why this term was directed at him.

“Did you oversee the reconstruction of bodies for Blasphemia? That explains your extraordinary abilities. It’s natural you wouldn’t reveal where you trained—your records would have been erased upon joining Blasphemia.”

Divius scratched his helmet with his hand. His former clients wouldn’t know his true identity.

When he faked his death to leave Blasphemia, the organization was in such dire straits that they couldn’t waste resources verifying his status.

So how did Carisia find out?

If she recognized Divius personally, then she must have been either part of Blasphemia or connected to the Ten Towers—

Divius recalled the signature light-attribute magic associated with Carisia: five compressed beams emitted through a gauntlet.

The unique combat style of using long-range light magic for close-quarters battles favored a certain group of assassins within the Ten Towers.

“Chairman, were you from the Ten Towers?”

Carisia smiled—a cold smile unlike the ones she gave Ortes.

“From the Ten Towers, you say? Hmm, perhaps it’s better to say I was abandoned.”

The Ten Towers possess countless armed forces, though few are shared across all towers like Blasphemia. Naturally, internal checks and balances existed.

“…I see. Now it’s clear. You were the leader and subordinate of an abandoned military unit, caught in a power struggle among the elders, right?”

“Haha, believe what you wish. But Director, shouldn’t you answer the Chairman’s question first?”

Ortes provided a non-answer, prompting Divius to furrow his brow but nod reluctantly.

“The reason I called both of you here relates to another matter Ortes reported before the meeting.”

Carisia snapped her fingers, and a 3D hologram of Niobe appeared in the center of the conference room.

“A member of Blasphemia infiltrated the Vykada Wandering Troupe under the name Niobe.”

“This sloppy detection suggests the rumors are true—their standards have dropped since they hastily recruited members after a major incident years ago.”

Arabel swallowed the unspoken implication: ‘Or perhaps Ortes has ties deep enough to recognize Blasphemia members instantly.’

“In a few days, Chief Investigator Ortes plans to infiltrate a Blasphemia branch through Niobe, posing as a missing agent returning. Can you create artificial skin similar to their enhanced muscles to bypass their inspections?”

“That was ages ago, and we lack the special mage who could imprint the Ten Towers insignia.”

“I’ll handle that. All you need to confirm, Director Divius, is whether you can create the artificial skin.”

Divius was grateful for his full-face helmet. A high-level mage capable of imprinting the Ten Towers insignia?

Carisia must have held a prominent position within the Ten Towers—likely the head of a fallen faction.

And Ortes? Perhaps a bodyguard protecting the direct lineage of said faction. Divius had heard rumors of artificially created humans devoted to serving a single bloodline.

‘That level of trust makes sense…’

As Divius silently nodded, Arabel voiced her confusion.

“Why me? If it’s just about passing Blasphemia’s inspection, calling Director Divius alone would have sufficed.”

“Oh. Director Arabel, we’ll need to borrow one of your drones. We plan to hack into Blasphemia’s database.”

That infuriating man. Arabel’s anger flared at Ortes’ casual assignment of absurd tasks yet again.