Chapter 221: The Report
In the town of Orlando, the Punishment Legion had mobilized almost every unit
not currently on active patrol.
Nine hundred skeleton soldiers had turned the forest outside the town upside
down. They advanced in a sweeping line from the forest's edge to its heart,
ensuring every inch of terrain was scrutinized. Autumn leaves were brushed
aside, the beds of brooks were probed, and even burrowing holes saw smaller
skeletal units crawling inside to inspect the depths.
Three hours later.
Nothing.
No trace of a perpetrator. No additional casualties. Not even a single
suspicious footprint that didn't belong to a resident or a forest creature.
The commanding Centurion, a Skeleton King, stood in a clearing. The soulfire
within his sockets flared and dimmed with rhythmic uncertainty.
This is an anomaly.
Under normal circumstances, an assault of this brutality would leave a mountain
of evidence. No matter how meticulous the assailant, there should have been
lingering Mana traces, scent markers, or discarded tools. But here, the world
was silent. It was as if the girl had simply manifested out of thin air in the
middle of the woods.
The Skeleton King immediately initiated a report to his direct superior: the
Myriad-Captain. The information surged through the Soul Link in a heartbeat.
The Punishment Legion Myriad-Captain, currently stationed in the administrative
sector of the former Holy Empire of Gusteko, was hunched over a desk processing
regional documents. The sudden surge in the Soul Link caused him to tilt his
skull upward.
He reviewed the Centurion's comprehensive file: the site records, William's
testimony, and the horrific details of the girl's injuries. As he parsed the
data, the Myriad-Captain's soulfire flickered with a sharp, jagged intensity.
A mangled girl appearing in a forest. Injuries so severe she shouldn't have been
able to draw breath, yet her Od remained anchored to her body. Such a thing
might have been mundane in the lawless era of the past, but here? In the peace
established by the Sovereign?
The Myriad-Captain followed protocol. He forwarded the report to the highest
authority of his Legion: Skele-Pride. He didn't necessarily view it as an
existential crisis—the Empire was vast, and bizarre crimes occurred—but this was
outside his experience. He would leave the judgment to his General.
Meanwhile, in a luxury suite at The Succubus's Dream in the Iron Fortress
Territory.
Skele-Pride lay upon a bed of silken cushions, deep within a custom-ordered
dream scenario. In this world, the horizon was infinite. He walked
shoulder-to-shoulder with the Sovereign, traversing snowy peaks, ancient
forests, and scorched deserts to purge those foolish enough to offend the
Empire.
The Sovereign would offer him a smile. He would praise Pride's blade-work.
During their respite, they would discuss the grand tactics of the world. This
was Pride's favorite template—simple, direct, and filled with a sense of
ultimate purpose. He had already pre-paid for a month's worth of dream-time,
intending to experience the entire "World Tour" series.
Just as the dream-Kaito was about to formally acknowledge Pride as his "foremost
and most beloved subordinate," a notification pinged.
Static.
A request for a priority Soul Link connection.
"General Pride. A casualty has been discovered in Orlando. Suspected torture
case. No traces of a perpetrator found on-site. Awaiting your directive."
The dream shattered like glass.
Pride's eyes snapped open, the soulfire in his sockets erupting into a violent
blaze. Torture? On Evernight soil?
He instantly accessed the full report. This wasn't a simple breach of public
order. If it were a common assault, the Myriad-Captain would have handled the
trial and execution without bothering him. But this...
No perpetrator. No clues. Injuries that defied the laws of biology. This was
either a calculated crime using extreme measures, or an unknown power was
operating within the Empire's borders.
Either way, it was an affront to the Sovereign's peace.
Since the Sovereign unified the continent, public safety had become almost
unnerving. Bandits had vanished, petty theft had dropped by ninety percent, and
even a common tavern brawl resulted in the Punishment Legion sentencing the
brawlers to a week of street sweeping. Against that backdrop of absolute order,
a crime this vicious was a flare of danger.
Pride's mind worked with clinical speed. If this was just an isolated incident,
he would simply double the investigation and grind the killer into dust. But if
this was a probe—an organization testing the Empire's resolve...
The problem was grave.
Pride lunged from the bed, ignoring the succubus attendant who was preparing a
polite bow of greeting. He marched down the corridor and kicked open the door to
a neighboring suite.
In the second luxury suite, Ignius was deep into his own favorite scenario: "The
Return of the Dragon King."
In the dream, he was a primordial dragon of legend, waking from a thousand-year
slumber to reclaim the continent. Lesser races trembled in his shadow. Enemies
who had once defied him now groveled in the dirt, begging for mercy. Adventurers
who thought themselves "Hero-tier" were swatted into meat-paste with a casual
flick of his tail.
Ignius laughed, his voice echoing through the dream-sky like thunder. "Pathetic
ants! You dare provoke the majesty of a Dragon?!"
Before he could finish his monologue, a hand of black bone reached from reality
and seized him by the scruff of the neck.
The dream dissolved into gray mist.
Ignius blinked awake, only to be hauled off his lounging chair by Skele-Pride.
"Wait! The scene was just getting to—!"
"Silence," Pride barked. "Follow."
Pride didn't give him a chance to protest, dragging him toward the exit. The
succubus at the door maintained her professional smile, offering a polite
reminder. "Honored guest, you still have twenty minutes of dream-time remaining.
There are no refunds for early termination."
Pride didn't even look back. "Keep the coin. We'll resume later."
He and Ignius burst through the shop doors. In the next heartbeat, two streaks
of light shot into the sky, banking hard toward the town of Orlando.
The succubus blinked, murmuring to herself, "What strange customers."
Mid-flight, Ignius finally wrenched himself free from Pride's grip, adjusting
his rumpled tunic. "Care to explain what's so urgent?" he grumbled. "I was right
at the climax. Those adventurers were about to surrender their entire treasury
to me."
"A slaughter-case has occurred within the Empire," Pride said, his tone clipped.
"Extreme trauma to the victim. Zero evidence of an assailant at the scene."
Ignius paused, his grumbling dying in his throat. He understood the gravity
immediately.
"That should be impossible," Ignius frowned. "With the current state of
security, even a pickpocket is a rarity, let alone a high-tier assault."
"That is why you are coming with me to see for yourself," Pride said, his voice
cold as the wind. "If this is an isolated incident, we process it. But if this
is an organized probe... or the infiltration of an outside power..."
He didn't need to finish. Ignius understood.
Ignius shifted his form, his body expanding into his true draconic majesty. He
banked his wings, signaling Pride to mount up.
"Let's move."
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