Chapter 1 The Aftermath

The assembly hall was littered with the grotesque corpses of cultists, and there was no evidence to identify the attackers, which made the investigation difficult.

But one thing was certain: whoever committed this attack was no ordinary person.

A peculiar, pungent odor lingered in the air—a trace of “flame” that had been corrupted.

Vanna carefully examined the oil lamps left in the basement. Beside her, a priest retrieved special powders and potions from his kit to analyze the lamps for traces of anything that shouldn't exist in the real world.

Fire was the most peculiar thing in this world.

It was visible order, the handwriting of the gods when they established the covenant for the world, evidence that "civilization still existed"—in the burning of flame, the changes of all things would leave their mark.

If a battle of extraordinary proportions had occurred here, corresponding traces would surely remain in the flames.

After the priest began his work, Vanna returned to the center of the basement, looking at the corpse of a Solar Heretic lying there.

"Dozens of fractures throughout his skeleton, as if he was hit directly by a stampeding bison. It's hard to imagine what kind of weapon could cause such a thing," a coroner said nearby. "Pure blunt force, no traces of magic detected."

"Blunt force... blunt force that can break dozens of bones at once?" Vanna frowned slightly. "What is this? A meteor hammer with a one-meter diameter?"

The coroner shook his head. "Rather than these, the ashes over there are more suspicious."

Vanna went to the end of the basement and saw the "ashes" he was talking about.

A complete set of clothing lay scattered on the ground, surrounded by fine, greyish-black ashes, which made it easy to imagine that someone had been lying there.

"Without a doubt, it's some kind of extraordinary power. Judging from the traces, it's likely a type of mutated flame," Vanna said simply to the coroner beside her. "Normal flames would hardly burn a person into such ashes while leaving their clothes intact after the burning."

"There are signs of impact on the wall. This cultist seems to have been slammed into the wall with tremendous force and then burned to ashes," said another priest at the scene. "This is the only cultist who was killed by extraordinary power—and an extraordinary power that has never been seen before.

"Also, we found a spot in the corner of the basement where the ground was severely corroded by an unknown force, but no residual solid matter was found. This could also be an effect of extraordinary power."

"Could be a spell cast by someone, or an anomaly," Vanna said casually. "Was this discovered because a citizen reported it?"

"Yes, a concerned citizen heard strange noises coming from the abandoned factory and reported it to the city guards and sentinels on duty at the street corner during the changing of the guard," the priest next to her nodded. "These cultists were actually very cautious. They erased their traces of activity after entering the city-state and successfully infiltrated the lower city, remaining undetected all this time. If it weren't for this attack, they probably could have remained hidden longer."

"Now that one cell has been exposed, it means there may be more hiding in the shadows," Vanna said in a deep voice. "The sewers and alleys of the lower city are the focus of the investigation during this time. We must..."

She was halfway through her sentence when a sentinel suddenly hurried over from the side, holding something in his hand. "Inquisitor, take a look at this!"

Vanna immediately looked up and saw the sentinel holding a small tray with several slightly deformed copper bullets stained with blood.

"We found two revolvers that had been fired at the scene. These bullets should have been fired from those two guns," the sentinel reported. "The bloodstains on the bullets most likely belong to the attackers!"

Vanna's gaze fell on the bullets, and she immediately noticed the deformation of the bullet heads—the bullets were stained with blood, indicating they had been shot into flesh, but the contracted and deformed state of the bullet heads... could not have been caused by soft, fragile flesh.

Unless each bullet happened to hit bone, or... the person shot had extremely strong physical resilience.

And how did these bullets, which had already been embedded in the body, end up at the scene?

Vanna thought carefully for a moment and concluded that there were only two possibilities: either the attacker performed surgery on himself at the scene to remove the bullets, or the attacker possessed special physical abilities and relied on his powerful body to "expel" the bullets from his body.

And regardless of which possibility it was, one thing was obvious: this powerful attacker had killed all the cultists here without hesitation, despite being shot several times, and after it was over, he calmly removed the bullets from his body.

Vanna looked at her own hands.

She could do such a thing, but precisely because she could do it, she knew how difficult it was for ordinary mortals with flesh and blood.

"The one who killed these cultists should be an extraordinary being with extremely enhanced physical abilities, using some kind of large blunt weapon," Vanna turned her head and said to an attendant after considering it in her mind. "The opponent is experienced in combat, has a strong will, is extremely strong, and considering the weapon used, should also be tall. At the same time, they may have mastered some kind of fire power. Preliminary judgment suggests they are hostile to the Solar Heretics, but it cannot be determined whether they are on our side...

"Notify all levels of sentinels and city guards to pay attention to people who fit the above characteristics recently. Once a suspected target is found, prioritize reporting it and do not make contact rashly."

The sentinel acting as the attendant immediately lowered his head. "Yes, Inquisitor."

Vanna took a light breath and roughly sketched out the possible appearance of the attacker who had wreaked havoc at the assembly hall in her mind: a two-meter-tall strongman wielding a giant wolf-toothed club or meteor hammer, highly skilled in martial arts, calm and resilient, and able to summon flames.

That should be about right.

...

Duncan smiled as he saw off his second customer, feeling quite pleased as the plump lady slowly walked away.

That lady was an old customer of the store, and today she had taken a fancy to a pair of vases as a gift for her new neighbor.

The vases were purchased from the wholesale market. Although the production date was last week, they were already eight hundred years old. The original price was over two hundred thousand, but after the discount, they were twenty-six, and they came with a pair of stone carvings from the Soland Dynasty that were manufactured last Wednesday.

The old customer knew the items were fake, but from beginning to end, she believed that Duncan, the shopkeeper, was genuine.

After throwing a few crumpled banknotes into the drawer, Duncan sat back behind the counter, feeling his restless mood calm down slightly.

At least for now, running this antique shop was still a novel and interesting thing for him.

Of course, making money from this small business was indeed limited. The profit from selling two vases with two ornaments was only a little over six Solados, and only two customers had come to his antique shop in the better part of the day. He didn't know if this "customer traffic" was high or low for ordinary times, but it was obviously not as promising as reporting cultists.

Duncan spared some of his energy to monitor Ai's situation.

The pigeon was flying low over the Fourth District. Unfortunately, the Solar Amulet tied to its back had not reacted so far.

Of course, this was normal—although many cultists had poured into the city-state of Pland, they hadn't reached the point where they could be found everywhere. In addition, they would deliberately disperse and hide in various forgotten nooks and crannies, so it was naturally not easy to find them.

Hunting required patience.

Duncan leisurely enjoyed this quiet time, focusing his energy on the pigeon's movements while occasionally paying attention to the *Lost Country*. Or he would control his body on the ship to walk on the deck and watch Alice fight with the strange things on the ship and then be chased around in a panic. He suddenly felt that this wonderful life was not bad.

Just then, a crisp and pleasant bell sound suddenly came from the direction of the door, interrupting his idle and comfortable reverie.

"Welcome."

Duncan casually said as he looked up at the door and saw an old gentleman with gray hair walking in.

This was a very elegant old gentleman. His dark brown coat was brand new and clean, his leather shoes were polished brightly, he carried a black cane of unknown material in his hand, and his hair and bow tie were meticulous.

This wasn't the kind of attire one would expect to see in the lower city, but rather in the Crossroads District or even the upper city.

Duncan had no concept of the so-called "respectable people" of this world, but he could tell at a glance that this old gentleman was no ordinary customer.

"See anything you like?" He smiled, like a true antique shop owner. "Take it away if you have a connection with it."