But coincidence was a concept he didn't believe in. Truth always possessed a pattern.
He opened his journal, writing neatly.
Day 7, Night: Convoy attack at Timberlain. 6 guards + driver killed. Method: physical, brutal, efficient. No magic or corruption traces.
Possibilities:
(1) Opportunistic bandits—low.
(2) Nyxaria's forces in disguise—medium.
(3) Other faction exploiting tension—high.
He had to inspect it himself. But that meant abandoning Sanctuary surveillance. And his deadline was three days away.
His priority was dual: secure Treaty Stone evidence, and investigate threats to Church assets. He didn't possess enough personnel. His team—two junior Inquisitors—would only arrive tomorrow morning. If he went to Timberlain now, Sanctuary could act behind his back. If he didn't go, he could forfeit crucial evidence about an attack that might be connected.
He cursed inwardly. Then made a decision. "I'll go to Timberlain. You two," he spoke to two Sentinel Wards placed in surrounding trees, his devices emitting a small silvery light, "keep monitoring Sanctuary. Record all in-out activities. If anything suspicious, send alert."
He walked to his horse, mounted the saddle. One last glance at Sanctuary, then he spurred his horse southwest, following the incident coordinates.
Behind the obsidian walls, from the same observation window, a pair of red eyes witnessed his departure. "He's gone," Nyxaria whispered.
"Exactly as my lord predicted," Seris said beside her. "But he left sensors."
"Let them. They only record energy. And we won't employ suspicious energy." Nyxaria turned. "Is Aldric ready?"
"The second supporting box is complete. He said, the Treaty Stone must remain in a horizontal position during travel, and must not be exposed to strong vibrations." Lazarus appeared from the darkness, his voice low. "Eclipse vault in Crossbell has been confirmed. They're willing to accept storage for a fee of five hundred gold coins per month, or one Rare artifact as collateral."
Five hundred gold. Or a Rare artifact. We possess several from past raids. Mara accessed her mental inventory—a built-in function from her raid boss status. There were several useless Rare items: [Circlet of Lost Whispers], [Gauntlets of the Fallen Squire], [Potion of Giant's Strength (Ancient)]. The last could be sold, but required time. Better to employ the Circlet.
"Take [Circlet of Lost Whispers] from storage. That's the collateral." Nyxaria commanded. "Now, move the Treaty Stone from the wall."
The second relocation process was more tense than the first.
Aldric, with slightly trembling hands, opened the wall niche again with a small rune ritual. The aetherium box containing the pale blue stone was extracted carefully. The Treaty Stone vibrated gently, its surface emitting light ripples like a disturbed lake. A black drop—historical blood—seeped from one of the microscopic cracks, flowing along the box's side.
"Stable, but fragile," Aldric muttered. "The journey to Crossbell requires direct [Shadow Step], my lord. Teleportation vibration could... be risky."
"I'll stabilize it with [Sovereign's Barrier] inside the box. Layer it with static energy." Nyxaria extended her hand, enveloping the box with a transparent purple energy field that immediately solidified, forming a solid layer between the box and the outside world. Her mana usage was significant, but effective. The stone ceased vibrating.
[Internal Metric]
Mana Consumption: 12,500 MP
Barrier Integrity: 100%Artifact Stability: Critical – Maintain
Then she placed the box into a special supporting bag designed by Aldric—a backpack with aetheric moss padding and shock-absorbing runes. She wore it on her back, feeling the weight of that Legendary artifact as if it were a small mountain.
"I go alone. Seris, guard the perimeter. Lazarus, ensure the refugees remain calm. Aldric, prepare a fake storage space in the same niche—place an ordinary stone replica given a weak aura illusion. If Caelix infiltrates, let him discover it."
They nodded obediently. Nyxaria took a deep breath—again, a human ritual—and activated [Shadow Step].
The world trembled, then folded.
Eclipse Merchants' vault in Crossbell was not a magnificent building. It was an inconspicuous small shop in the market corner, with a worn signboard reading "Aethelred's Emporium". Inside, shelves held ordinary goods: pots, cloth, tools. Only those who knew the password would be escorted to the back room, then descend three floors underground, to a steel chamber reinforced with highest-tier anti-detection magic.
Torin, a round-faced merchant with a too-perfect friendly smile, was already waiting.
"Queen Nyxaria. Or should I address you as Nyx? For disguise." He grinned, his slitted eyes observing the bag on Nyxaria's back. "We've prepared storage room number seven. Controlled temperature, no vibrations, lead and aetherium layers one meter thick. Safe from all types of sensors, including even Arch-Inquisitor level [Truth Seeker]."
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"The fee," Nyxaria said curtly.
"Five hundred gold per month, as agreed. Or..." His eyes sparkled. "Artifact collateral."
Nyxaria tossed [Circlet of Lost Whispers] onto the table. The silver metal ring with a dark blue stone landed with a dull sound. Torin took it, examining it with a small magnifying glass. "Rare-tier, good condition. Market value around six hundred gold. We accept it as collateral for two months storage, with an extension option." He stared at Nyxaria. "Is the content... time-sensitive?"
"Extremely."
"Good. Our rooms are equipped with a minor stasis field. Slows time inside to ten percent of normal." Torin walked to the wall, pressing a series of bricks in a certain order. A section of the stone wall retracted sideways, opening a narrow corridor lit by blue crystals. "Please."
Nyxaria followed him, the bag on her back feeling increasingly heavy. That corridor ended in a small room three square meters wide, with one stone table in the middle and walls inscribed with silver runes.
"Place it here. Can the box be opened, or does it remain sealed?"
"Sealed." Nyxaria removed the bag, placing it on the table slowly. She maintained the [Sovereign's Barrier] layer. "No one may open it. Including you."
"Certainly. We're merely keepers. The contents are client secrets." Torin nodded, but his eyes were full of unconcealed curiosity. "Are there special instructions if an... incident occurs?"
"If the Church raids this place, destroy the contents. Do not let them obtain it." Nyxaria stared at him directly. "If you accomplish this, I'll erase your debt and grant you a reward. If you surrender it, I'll erase this shop from the map."
Torin smiled, but this time there was tension in the corners of his eyes. "We understand, Nyx. Eclipse Merchants are known for discretion. That's what sustains our business."
[Artifact Registry]
Item Classification: Legendary (External Storage)
Designation: Treaty StoneStorage Location: Eclipse Vault #7 – Crossbell
Security Status: Active (Paid in Artefact)
Note: Temporal stasis field applied.
Nyxaria nodded briefly. She gave one last look at that bag, at the artifact that was the heart of this conflict, evidence that could alter history. Then she turned.
"[Shadow Step]."
She returned to Sanctuary just as dawn began breaking on the eastern horizon.
Caelix spent the entire 8th and 9th days at the convoy attack location, analyzing every detail. He discovered footprints, wheel marks, signs of battle. Everything was consistent with a bandit attack: unorganized, brutal, but sufficiently skilled. He even discovered horse tracks fleeing west, and followed them until the tracks vanished at a river.
No demonic magic signs. No corruption resonance. Just worldly violence. But his instinct screamed that this was wrong.
When he returned to his camp on the 9th night, two junior Inquisitors were already waiting: a young man with sharp eyes and a woman with a cold expression. They reported that during his absence, Sanctuary was quiet. No suspicious activities. Just normal refugee traffic and elf patrols.
"Something's wrong," Caelix muttered, staring at Sanctuary from the distance. "She's too calm."
"Perhaps she doesn't know we'll return with troops?" asked the male Inquisitor.
"She knows." Caelix shook his head. "And she's not afraid. That's what worries me."
On the morning of day 10, his final deadline, he decided to make a concluding visit. This time, with two backup Inquisitors, he walked to Sanctuary's gate with firm steps. He didn't ask permission—directly pushed the partially open gate.
Seris was already waiting inside, her face neutral. "Inquisitor Caelix. My lord awaits you in the throne room."
"I know the way." Caelix walked past her, his two subordinates following vigilantly.
The throne room felt different. The darkness aura was still present, but more... calm. No more high energy vibrations he had previously sensed from the Treaty Stone. The altar was empty, only a black velvet cloth. And on the throne, Nyxaria sat with a straight back, hands folded in her lap.
"Back again, Inquisitor?" Nyxaria's voice sounded almost bored. "Do you still possess questions?"
Caelix halted ten steps from the throne. His gray eyes swept the room, activating [Truth Seeker] at maximum level. The symbol on his palm pulsed, scanning every corner.
Nothing. No Legendary artifact. No temporal resonance. Just a strong demonic aura, but that was already expected.
He focused his attention on the wall to the right of the altar, where previously there had been a corruption anomaly. Now, there was only plain obsidian wall with a slight dark stain—like a natural defect. [Truth Seeker] didn't react.
She moved it. Caelix almost growled. But where?
"I came to convey that my investigation is complete," Caelix said, his voice remaining flat despite inward fury. "I have gathered all available evidence."
"And?" Nyxaria leaned slightly forward. "What is your conclusion?"
Caelix stared at her for a long moment. He saw absolute calm in those red eyes, an unshakeable confidence. He remembered the convoy attack, recalled the absence of evidence, recalled the expired deadline. He faced a choice: report suspicion without concrete evidence and risk being considered incompetent, or report no evidence and monitor from afar.
"I know you're hiding something," he finally said, those words emerging like a bitter confession. "But I failed to prove it—for now."
He saw something—just a flash—in Nyxaria's eyes. Not victory. Not mockery. Just a silent acknowledgment: this game isn't over.
Nyxaria nodded slowly. "Then, is this the end of your visit?"
"For now, yes." Caelix bowed, a stiff formal gesture. "The Church will continue monitoring Sanctuary. Any suspicious activity will receive a response."
"As it should be." Nyxaria stood, tall and grim. "Your path is open, Inquisitor. Be cautious on the journey. The outside world... can be a dangerous place."
That threat was subtle, but clear. Caelix restrained himself from answering. He turned, followed by his two subordinates, and walked out of the throne room. His footsteps echoed in the obsidian corridor, growing gradually weaker, until finally vanishing.
In the throne room, Nyxaria remained standing, listening to their departure. Then she walked to the observation window, observing the three white-robed figures walking away from Sanctuary, toward the east. We won this round. Mara took a deep breath, feeling the tension that had accumulated in her shoulders for ten days begin to dissolve slightly. But he won't stop. He knows. And he'll return with more people, more authority.
[System Feedback]
Investigation Status: Concluded – Inconclusive.
Threat Assessment: Obsidian Sanctuary – Elevated.
Recommendation: Long-term surveillance advised.
She turned toward the wall where the Treaty Stone was previously hidden. Now empty. The stone was safe in the Eclipse vault, but that was only a temporary solution. Caelix might have failed to prove it, but he had marked Sanctuary as a target. The Church would allocate more resources here.
The next battle won't concern investigation. It will concern siege.
And they had to be prepared.
In the distance, beyond the hills, Caelix glanced back once more. Sanctuary stood magnificent and dark, like a monument to unrevealed secrets. He didn't know where the Treaty Stone was now. But he knew one thing: truth cannot be hidden forever. And he would find it—by any means.
He spurred his horse, leaving Sanctuary behind. But in his mind, that obsidian shadow would remain, like a black stain on the canvas of truth he sought to reach.
And at Sanctuary, the morning wind blew slowly, carrying the scent of warning that could only be perceived by those who knew how to read the signs.
The first round had concluded.
And perhaps the next would be far bloodier.