Chapter 115: How Do You Catch a Rat? With A Bait...

...

A few days passed. Gone were the fun and smiles of the sentinels as they crowded the training courtyard. What stayed were the warm breeze of the day and the determination in one's eyes as blades clashed and strong mana sprouted in the air. Boots heavily stomped on the stoned earth, bodies vigorously moving. The gentle flutter of falling leaves seemed to the only calmness in the area. 

Driven with revenge and mourning of their fallen comrades and those who could not open their slumbering eyes. Friends were forced to await orders as Rowan and Relena disappeared for two days of unknown reason. The sentinels of Leonil and Dragor urged themselves to express their anxiousness and gloom through heavy training. Their forms were fast, full of strength and power. Limbs filled with angry energy. Men and women alike, they appeared terrifying. Servants who come to deliver food would stop and admire but remained a safe distance away from the brute atmosphere of the area. 

Silver-white hair danced with the wind, dazzling under the light. Strands swirling with sharpness alike to its owner's movements. A shining sword, gleaming with harshness, cutting sharply through the air. A piercing sound noised as the metal collided with metal. Blades vibrating with strength towards the hilt.

Moulin narrowed his eyes as he withdrew his sword and performed a sharp kick on his opponent's stomach. All in one move within a single second. 

The man landed on the ground with a groan, catching his stomach. The scene of the vulnerable-looking young man defeating a man twice his size with ease was quite a sight to see. Some sentinels had stopped and whistled with raised eyebrows. Moulin swung his sword once before sheathing it. His eyes lowered as he reached out a hand and helped his opponent to stand.

'Is this guy really an Aphrodite?' Moulin's opponent thought while nodding to the youth. With a strength like that, he truly deserves to become a sentinel despite his gender.

Moulin ignored the looks directed his way and turned his head to look for another challenger. After a couple of wins, a voice suddenly shouted his name.

"Moulin!"

Moulin wiped the sweat off his forehead as he sheathed his sword. His silver brows knitted at the familiarity of the voice.

Callun hastily sprinted towards the youth. His eyes filled with hope and his grin expressed his enthusiasm. Inside his head, he was cheering himself. Moulin frowned. His hand unconsciously gripped the hilt of his sword as he watched the man standing before him.

"Valcan seeks your presence," Callun said with fake seriousness in his eyes. 

...

Moulin raised an eyebrow as pressed his lips together. "Is that so... Where?"

"In the oracle's new quarters... Why are you looking at me like that?" Callun questioned with a tilted head. 

Moulin snorted, "I know it was not supposed to be you to relay this information, Callun Maxinille. Do you take of me as a fool?"

Callum hastily raised his hands and shakes his head. He felt a coldness creep up his spine as the youth stared at him. "N-No... I just want to talk to you..."

"..." Moulin lowered his brows. Expression growing grave. "I will be on my way..."

Moulin walked forward with a hand on the hilt of his sword, cautiously. 

"W-Wait!" Flustered he blocked the young man's way. Arms spread to block Moulin. Callum's eyes blinked rapidly as Moulin stopped and glared at him. Under that cruel gaze, the young master of the Maxinille family strangely felt great joy. 'Finally, he's looking at me!'

"Speak or I'll cut out your throat..." Snapped Moulin.

Callun swallowed. Unable to come up with an excuse as he became more and more nervous, he blurted out the words circling his mind, "I know who you are having an affair with-"

Swoosh!

The tip of the sword's blade pointed at Callun's adam's apple. Threatening to slice and wound. Moulin massively pointed a sword at the man's neck. Angry silver eyes burned with annoyance. 

"Get lost..." Moulin gnashed his teeth.

Terrified, Callun took a step to the side, moving like a statue with a pale face. Moulin sheathed his sword and bumped into the man without looking back.

Callun almost stumbled as he blinked. His breath finally returned when the youth left his sight.

"He's got no chance..." One of Callun's friends whispered. "That aphrodite acts like a cruel murderess. He could have sliced Callun's head clean off..."

One replied with a sigh while staring at Callun who had an impossible smile on his face, "I no longer want to aid his dumb pursuit. The aphrodite is truly as cruel as a snake..."

Both resorted to comforting the dumb Callun and persuading him to give up. They were stupid to think of setting up Moulin and Callun before. The youth had hopelessly foiled their plans every time. The snake was always disappearing and appearing oftentimes each day. It was better to not continue Callun's pursuit with the aphrodite. They were not keen on the idea of having their necks threatened with the youth's sword as what Moulin did to Callun. 

Not long after, within the calm and silent hallways, Moulin stood before the tall double doors of the Oracle's temporary chambers. Releasing a breath, he lifted his hand to knock his knuckles on the dark wood. However, before rosy knuckles could land, the doors were opened from the inside. A fresh scent of roses entered Moulin's nose. It was tantalizing and soothing.

"You're here! Good." 

Valcan's voice was strangely eager and enthusiastic as he opened the door for the young aphrodite to enter. Moulin was frozen for a moment. What met his silver eyes was the combed hair of the man. His jaw was clean-shaven and revealing the handsome features this man had always hidden from the world. Gone were the old loose robes that seem to look like curtains tied with a rope. Instead, what replaced it was the dark fashion of elven design, making his surprisingly fit figure look sharp and fierce. This also man smelled like he was drowned in a tub of roses. Moulin tilted his head. Was this really that sleazy looking man before? Moulin could not believe it.

"Come!..." Valcan stepped aside for the youth's entry. Moulin cleared his throat before nodding to him. With quiet steps, he entered the room.

What greeted his sight was the elven oracle sitting on his bed. The canopy is drawn and tied to the bedposts to reveal the elf's figure on the bed. A bed table was placed before him where a clean stack of papers and an ink pen were left untouched. Laphora smiled at Moulin but the youth could see the anxiousness that resides in his expression.

Valcan and Laphora weren't the only people within the Oracle's bed chambers. By the side where the windows shined the brightest in the room, the firstborn prince of Thundrall sat on one of the couches, elegantly raising a cup at Moulin as the youth finally noticed his presence. Sir Rowan and Lady Relena were standing nonchalantly behind him, ceasing their conversation once they noticed Moulin's arrival.

The atmosphere was strange. Almost instantly, Moulin's cautiousness arises. His eyes narrowed slightly as he bowed to greet everyone within the room.

Nordehl gave a smile as he gestured to the vacant seat on the couch opposite him. Although skeptical, Moulin and sat complying with the royal prince's command.

"I believe you have something you want from me for such distinguished guests to gather within the Oracle's chambers whilst I was not informed..." Moulin spoke. His straightforward words made Nordehl raised his brows in wonder.

"You... are quite perceptive..." Nordehl helplessly replied. A sigh escaped his mouth. 

Relena eyes were smiling. Her impression of the young man rose. "Dearie, How smart of you..."

"Don't encourage him..." Rowan muttered. His expression was impassive and unfeeling.

Valcan grinned. "Alright, there is no need for formalities. Treat this as a socializing event for close friends. Everyone should be familiar with each other."

Moulin ignored Valcan's suggestion and asked, "May I ask why was I summoned..." There was a polite smile on his face but his tone was ultimately cold. "Forgive me If I am too rash..."

...

The prince shook his head, "No, it is right that you are... " He sighs.

"Why?" Moulin questioned. 

...

Rowan could not resist the hesitance so he began. Blue eyes fixed on the white-haired youth. "Listen carefully, Moulin. Only the people currently in this room will have access to very classified information. I know you want to question your involvement in this situation but we have reasons... Everyone in this room is already informed of your relationship with Lord Hadrian Hercullio... He will be arriving shortly."

Moulin's eyes widened briefly before narrowing. His heart gradually beats fast. Although he wanted to interrogate everyone in the room, he swallowed all his questions. From Rowan's almost too serious expression, the information to be shared with each one of them must be grave. Moulin silently nodded his head. His shoulders relaxed as he listened.

Once again, Relena's smile widened. 

"Your highness... " With a smile, Laphora gestured to the prince to begin.

Nordehl nodded. He lifted his head and began, "The eye of Malefic..." He spoke in a soft voice.

When he saw that everyone except the oracle had fixed their questioning gazes at him. He spoke, "I reckoned each of you does not know what this baleful organization is so I will relay it all to you. It was decades ago when the first activity of this group was reported. It was an old town in the country of Rafelon, accused of multiple acts of thievery. They were but a group of children..."

Relena cocked an eyebrow, "What does a group of thieving children have to do with this situation?"

"Perhaps, were they from the slums?" Rowan asked.

The prince shook his head, "There were raised in an abandoned temple somewhere in the deserts. The temple was known as Malefic. I'm afraid the origins of that temple are unknown. From the records, those children were caught and tortured by a noble family. None had survived. Their corpses were left to be scavenged by wolves. A few days ago, the prisoner Sir Moulin had encountered was tortured and interrogated. It lasted to the third level of interrogation and I had to resort to using my mana to sift through his memories. However, I was only able to obtain little information but I believe it was enough to find their location..."

To sift through memories... Moulin lifted his brows. He had heard of this terrifying ability. It was known to be powerful and yet limited. One can only use it once or twice every two years to replenish enough mana to use it again.

Nordehl turned to look at Laphora. "The prisoner and a thousand others... are the Eye of Malefic. They are people raised to become demons. To become the demon's substitute to roam the land. Somehow they had a hold of fresh demon blood..."

"Impossible! Those creatures are extinct! Where would they find a damned demon's blood?" Rowan spoke in disbelief. 

Nodding in agreement, Valcan recorded the information on a paper, seriously writing while listening. Suddenly a thought came to him making him freeze, "Demon blood..."

Nordehl knitted his brows as he continued, "I have no knowledge of how they came to possess the blood but I know they had utilized it for their means. Strangely, most of the prisoner's memories were sealed, I could only gain little information. I saw a glimpse of them hauling bodies into pits and cells." As he spoke his hands clenched. "They hold hostages and I believe they are still alive..."

Moulin lowered his brows together, "Hostages..." Thinking deeply, he had the idea that the ones who raided Yan'Gofrae were the same ones who kidnapped the hidden elven princess as well as Phuna's father... His eyes narrowed. 

Silver eyes...

"Your highness... " Moulin started as he lifted his gaze...

"You're thinking that... the princess might be one of them?" 

"I do..." 

His eyes were unusually staring deeply at Moulin. They were pleading and begging. Moulin had to break his mind before a thought clicked in his head.

Everyone in this room already knows how precious the princess was in prince Nordehl's heart. It was understandable that he would assume the idea that the princess might be one of the hostages. 

"I managed to determine their location yesterday. The malefics are very baneful people. Although they only struck recently, the plagues in Meian, the suffering of my people, my sister's abduction was caused by them. I will never let a single one of them slip from my fingers." The fire in the prince's eyes was murderous. As if he would sacrifice anything to accomplish his goals.

...

Ah...

Moulin finally figured out why he was brought here...

...