Chapter 177: Out of the Blue

Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Seven
Out of the Blue

After sharing some amusing stories and gossip among nobles, Audrey stopped writing and adopted the appearance of seriously recalling things.

Relying on a Spectator’s excellent memory, she organized all the fragments of speech and occasional teachings from her father, Earl Hall, along with partial information she had heard at banquets, balls, and salons. One by one, she arranged them into paragraphs.

Only after drafting them in her mind did Audrey put pen to paper.

“As for the Backlund political situation you asked about, this lies outside my interests. I can only rely on my impressions and describe the details I happen to know.

“Some time ago, Father told me that after the repeal of the Grain Act, food prices fell sharply, and the rental standards for fields and pastures plunged like a cliff. I do not know the exact extent of the decline, so I can only use one example to help you understand.

“You know that Duke Negan is the noble with the greatest amount of land outside the royal family. It is said that he owns fields, pastures, and woods worth more than twelve million pounds. Last year, his rental income reached an all-time high of 1.3 million pounds. This year, all foreseeable rental income amounts to 850,000 pounds—a reduction of a full 450,000 gold pounds. That is already more than the entire amount of wealth I can inherit.

“Without needing me to explain further, my dear brother, you must understand the characteristics of most old-fashioned nobles. They take pride in owning land and rely mainly on rental income, while dignity means more than anything else. Even if they are in debt, they must maintain a lifestyle matching their status: castle repairs costing tens of thousands of pounds each year, clothing and jewelry expenses reaching thousands or tens of thousands each year, persistent hunting activities, social banquets, occasional grand weddings, extravagant funerals, and so on, and so on.

“Due to the serious decline in rental income, as far as I know, some nobles have fallen into financial difficulty. For that reason, Earl Wolfe sold 840,000 mu of countryside land and received 290,000 gold pounds. Viscount Conrad sold a collection valued at 55,000 gold pounds to the National Gallery.

“Aside from a small number of bold nobles who long ago shifted their focus toward steel, coal, railways, banks, rubber, and other industries, the rest all suffered severe damage in the Grain Act turmoil. Let us praise our dear Earl Hall here!

“Father told me that financial strain will reduce the nobles’ control over party politics and seats in the House of Commons. It is imaginable that the number of members of Parliament born from landholding nobility will decrease considerably in next year’s election.

“And in order to raise funds, both the Conservative Party and the New Party have promised that no matter who a person is, so long as they have no criminal record and donate enough money, the party will seek a title for them. Of course, the premise is that the gentleman possesses the minimum land area matching the title.

“One example is the wealthy Mr. Syndras. He purchased the minimum 600,000 mu of land required for a barony, then donated 100,000 gold pounds to the Carlton Club, 400,000 pounds to the Conservative Party, and a total of 300,000 pounds to charitable activities. In the end, he successfully received His Majesty the King’s ennoblement and became an honorable baron. In that respect, I have heard there is a price list: a life barony costs 300,000 pounds, a hereditary barony costs 700,000 to 1,000,000 pounds, while viscount and earl have no clear answer. But I believe the figures must be sufficiently exaggerated.”

…

“This year, many nobles experiencing financial problems have begun seriously considering marriage alliances with wealthy merchants. In only two months, there have been three such marriages, and the brides’ dowries were very enviable.

“In addition, the workers who marched in protest of the Grain Act did indeed obtain lower food prices. However, their living standards have not improved. They have even declined, because bankrupt farmers entered the cities and competed for jobs with demands for low wages. Thus, the wages of the laboring class fell rapidly.

“I remember that day, after Father finished speaking about these things, he once asked me: who do you think was the winner of this Grain Act incident?

“Dear Alfred, you surely know the answer. You can certainly rely on your own efforts to obtain a hereditary title.”

…

Having received Audrey’s reply, Xio Derecha and Fors Wall were riding a carriage back toward the Backlund Bridge area.

The messy-haired blond Xio looked out the window, her eyes so bright it was as if two flames were burning inside them.

She repeatedly muttered the phrase “four hundred and fifty pounds,” like chanting an incantation. Each time she said it, she seemed to gain another measure of courage and strength.

“Darkholm still has not come to report the latest investigation today. Let us go directly to his home!” Xio suddenly turned toward Fors.

Darkholm was a gang leader in Backlund’s East Borough. He controlled many beggars and thieves.

Although he always wore a friendly look, with a kind smile eternally hanging from his round face, Xio knew he was a cruel, venomous villain. He had once stomped on and broken the hand of a thirteen- or fourteen-year-old thief, simply because the latter had privately hidden part of his gains.

If she had any choice, Xio would not even want to see Darkholm. However, the man was one of the people who understood this city’s vagrants best.

Fors tucked her slightly curled brown hair behind her ear and said, “As long as it does not delay my lunch.”

“No problem! Maybe after this week, I will treat you to a proper Intis meal!” Xio promised, feeling extremely good about herself.

“Should I thank the gods for that?”

Fors asked in amusement.

Unlike Xio, she was a shallow believer in the God of Steam and Machinery.

As they spoke, the two ladies transferred to another public carriage and arrived in Backlund’s East Borough, where they found Darkholm’s home.

It was a townhouse located inside a narrow alley, with green plants growing along the wall. The surrounding environment was quite messy.

Xio walked to the entrance, raised her right hand, and knocked several times in a distinctive rhythm.

With a creak, the door that had not been closed properly swung inward under her knocking.

Xio’s somewhat dazed expression instantly turned solemn, like a lion whose fur had bristled.

She drew the triangular spike she carried, carefully pushed the door, and slowly stepped inside.

Fors also abandoned her careless manner. From somewhere, she produced a dagger.

Neither of them smelled anything strange, but their abundant experience let them keenly sense that something was wrong.

One step. Two steps. Three steps. Xio and Fors entered Darkholm’s home.

Then they saw a pale severed arm draped across a gas lamp. They saw the heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys placed on the coffee table. They saw strips of flesh scattered across the floor and hanging from the coat rack.

The white bones had been shaved clean, piled messily in the spot directly opposite the door.

And amid the cluster of white bones was a head with empty eyes. It was none other than Darkholm.

His round face still carried that kind, friendly smile, as though everything were normal. Yet there was not the slightest smell of blood within the house. Not even a trace.

As a former clinic doctor, later best-selling author, and Sequence 9 Beyonder, Fors had seen death scenes even more disgusting than this. While patting Xio, whose entire body was taut and who looked as if she might vomit, she looked around and said in a deep voice, “Qilangos? Vice Admiral Hurricane Qilangos?

“He discovered that Darkholm was investigating the missing vagrants, then followed the trail backward and came straight here?

“Or did Darkholm discover his whereabouts but get noticed by him?”

Suppressing the nauseating convulsion, Xio nodded solemnly.

“As expected of a pirate admiral known for viciousness and cunning… And the strangeness here also fits the manifestation of that mystical item of his.”

“Cunning…”

Fors suddenly started and blurted, “Could he still be waiting nearby, trying to ambush the person behind the investigation?”

Xio froze for a second, then answered with obvious panic, “Very possible!”

That was a Sequence 6 Wind-blessed, a great pirate who controlled a mystical item, while the two of them were only Sequence 9!

It was a very simple and very easy comparison.

…

Inside the house opposite Darkholm’s home, a man in his thirties with a distinctive broad jaw and dark-green eyes stood beside the window, coldly watching as Xio and Fors pushed open the door and slowly entered.

This was Vice Admiral Hurricane Qilangos!

The black glove on his left palm suddenly writhed as if it were alive. A layer of fine dark-golden scales appeared upon its surface.

Qilangos revealed a cruel, delighted expression. His dark-green eyes turned into pale-gold, emotionless vertical pupils.

…

Fors’s thoughts turned sharply. She hurriedly pulled Xio to the other side, avoiding the area directly opposite the door.

Then she clenched her white teeth and removed the bracelet concealed beneath the ruffled edge of her sleeve.

On that silver bracelet were three rough, dark-blue stones. Their surfaces were covered in burn marks, uneven and jagged.

Fors snapped off one stone and cried out in ancient Hermes:

“Door!”

She firmly grabbed Xio Derecha and watched the stone bloom with illusory pale-blue light.

The figures of the two ladies blurred, approaching invisibility.

They saw one indescribable, nearly transparent thing after another, as if they did not even exist. They saw clear radiances of different colors, each containing endless knowledge. They had entered the mysterious spirit world.

Within that strange world above reality, Fors pulled Xio and stepped in a certain direction.

Three breaths later, they broke free of their transparent, illusory state and returned to reality—returned to Backlund.

However, the place where they stood was no longer Darkholm’s home, but an empty cemetery.

…

Wearing the fine-scaled glove, Qilangos silently appeared at the entrance of Darkholm’s house, his gaze sweeping coldly inside.

He froze for a moment, frowned slightly, and muttered to himself, “Traveler?”

…

Inside the cemetery.

“What do we do next?”

Fors panted with both heartache and lingering fear.

That bracelet was a mystical item she had obtained during the same fortuitous encounter in which she had received the Apprentice formula and materials. Aside from making her hear strange, vague ravings each full moon, it carried no other hidden danger.

Originally, the bracelet had five stones, each able to let her travel through the spirit world and achieve something similar to teleportation. Now only two remained.

Xio steadied her mind and spirit, then nodded gravely.

“First, notify Miss Audrey. Then—then report it to the police!”