Cerqin went pale, like a lantern snuffed by a sudden wind.
She hadn’t expected the woman before her to be from the Law Enforcement Hall, or that so many inside would know her name—rumor rippling like reeds in a marsh.
Half the cities in the East District already knew? The news ran like wildfire over dry grass.
The Holy Dragon Empire was only the largest state in the eastern continent—vast as a range, yet just one slope.
This speed of transmission felt eerie, swift as a hawk’s shadow.
And why was she under such a sharp gaze, like a deer pricked by unseen arrows?
Suddenly Cerqin recalled Spring Tide’s station—the Holy Maiden of the Sanctuary’s East District; many inside, even the Law Enforcement Hall, adored her like a moon reflected on calm water.
If Spring Tide had nabbed her and sent her straight to the Law Enforcement Hall, Cerqin could picture the beating—ugly as storm hail.
She might end up like those souls bartered on the plaza, freedom stripped like bark from a tree.
In that instant, thoughts swarmed like ants; her face set stiff, like clay in frost.
The lady Divine Officer popped open like a chatterbox, words spilling like beads.
“Miss Cerqin, you’re amazing—winning the Holy Maiden’s heart like catching a star in your sleeve!”
“Uh… yeah.”
“And I heard you’re sailing more than one boat, and the Holy Maiden even approves. How do you pull that off?”
“Uh…”
“Many senior Divine Officers want to meet you!”
“Well…”
“Ah, sorry, Miss Cerqin. I got carried away.” Her voice fluttered like a kite tugged by wind.
Cerqin felt numb, frost nibbling her fingertips, and couldn’t find words; she shoved the topic aside, awkward as a stiff fan.
“Divine Officer, what are you buying? I’m going to check the arcanotech section…” Her tone drifted like a boat seeking a quiet shore.
She meant to say she’d go buy her own things and that the woman should do hers, but she’d underestimated this Law Enforcement Hall gossip’s sticky zeal.
“Miss Cerqin, you like arcanotech? I’ll show you around!” Her cheer bubbled like spring water.
“I’ve got a friend guiding me…”
“It’s fine, it’s fine, I don’t mind. What do you love most about the Holy Maiden?”
You don’t mind, I do! she screamed inside, the thought flaring like a spark in dry straw.
Facing a shameless Divine Officer who clung like wet rice paper, she had no move.
Even the fearsome Law Enforcement Hall housed odd birds like this.
“I like her gentleness…” Soft as rain on willow leaves.
Right now she wanted to turn and slip away like a fish cutting a silver trail.
“Right? Right? The Holy Maiden’s gentle, isn’t she?”
“Divine Officer, what are you doing?”
A cool voice rose, clean as sky-bells.
A tall Nun in habit, a touch of helplessness on her face, seized the Divine Officer’s shoulder, pinning a fluttering bird.
“You drift off and vanish, and I hunt half the plaza. Divine Officer, who is this?” Her patience thinned like smoke.
The beautiful Nun glanced at Cerqin, brow tightening; a glint of rivalry flickered like steel.
“She’s Miss Cerqin, the Holy Maiden’s attendant Nun. I just spotted her and thought I’d mistaken someone,” the Divine Officer said, her thrill ebbing like tide.
The tall Nun relaxed, a small smile opening like sun through thin cloud.
“Miss Cerqin, my apologies. I hope the Divine Officer didn’t trouble you.” Her words set down like tea on a tray.
“Ah… mm.”
Such a mood, layered like silk upon silk.
No wonder—it’s the Sanctuary.
Cerqin’s gaze snagged on the rope in the Nun’s other hand, taut as a leash.
Behind her stood an elf, voluptuous and bound—iron shackles and coils of rope tight, eyes and mouth covered, pointed ears pricking like new leaves.
“An elf?”
Strictly speaking, elves and their subtypes descended from the ancient pure-blood elves; nowadays the word mostly meant the long-eared sub-elves of the Long-Ear tribe.
“Forest Elf,” the Divine Officer explained, easy as naming a caged sparrow. “A few the Hall was housing escaped two days ago, so we’re here to replenish.”
“Forest Elves, then…” The name felt sour, like unripe fruit.
They carried the worst reputation, hunters fond of capturing other races—predators draped in green.
Many empires repaid them in kind: caught, and freedom stripped, nets cinched around wings.
The Sanctuary’s Law Enforcement Hall kept them to weaponize their fierce desires, “educating” other inmates—fire used to temper iron.
Cerqin grew curious about the “escape,” interest rising like steam off hot tiles.
Breaking from the Hall’s grip was unheard of—slipping a dragon’s claw.
Most Forest Elves even got caught on purpose; escape was rare as winter peaches.
“Recently, knights riding into the Northern Region seized two from the Demon Race,” the Divine Officer said, pointing toward the south wall’s silhouette, a long spine against the sky. “They’d masked their strength and planned the capture. During interrogation they blew the place up—escaped with noise, smashed a section of the south wall, and a slew of inmates poured out like water through a broken dike.”
“Thankfully the interrogation was at the south wall. A Bishop rushed in and killed the two disguised Demons, and the storm didn’t grow bigger.”
“So that’s how it went…” Pieces clicked like beads along a cord.
Those bandits active lately must be the escapees, raiding caravans for supplies to slip past Northfort’s reach.
Because of this, they suspect the Demon Race will move soon; many experts from Northfort, the main knightly orders, and the Imperial Army are sweeping the Northern Region—nets drawn over dark waters.
Spring Tide had come for the same reason—the Demons’ motion felt off, like a current turned cold.
Cerqin felt those two masked Demons carried a special purpose, a blade hidden in satin.
But none of it needed her worry; she let it drift like smoke beyond the eaves.
After a few casual lines, she bowed to the tall Nun, closing the moment like folding a fan.
“I’ll be off first.”
“Miss Cerqin, I’ll go with you…”
“Divine Officer, you’re returning to the Sanctuary with me!”
“Eh?”
“Please prioritize your duty, or I’ll complain to the Bishop!” Her words cracked like a whip.
She let go of the Divine Officer’s shoulder, saluted Cerqin like a falling petal, and turned away.
“Hey? Wait!!”
“…”
The Radiant Sanctuary’s inner ties were tangled, vines crawling a ruined courtyard.
While they talked, Cerqin had twice slipped her Hand of Space, peeling trinkets off the tall Nun and the Divine Officer, then palming them into her storage bracelet—light as a breeze lifting leaves.
She felt a tiny regret: the bound Forest Elf wore almost no cloth beyond iron fetters and thick rope—no place to lift a thing, bare as a winter tree.
With the hiccup over, Cerqin drifted through the arcanotech stalls and bought a scatter of tools, shells gathered from a mechanical shore.
Time had grown late; she headed for her target shop, steps quick as swallows skimming dusk.
She’d arranged with Anran, mainly to tap a trusted contact for a batch of materials—to study basic Arcanotechnology and its structures, laying bricks for a new craft.
She already had a few designs; once she filled the base knowledge and had enough materials, she could try, sketches hardening like lacquer.
Maybe she’d even flip it and earn a stash of gold, coins chiming like rain on tiles.
She entered a lively general store and made her request; the clerk’s practiced smile bloomed like a paper flower, and he pointed to a door smooth as varnish.
“Miss Cerqin, the young lady said you can go straight in when you arrive.”
“Ah, thanks.”
She didn’t keep the busy clerk any longer; she moved to the door he’d indicated, steps quiet as silk.
She raised a hand to knock; the door sighed open by itself. Cerqin blinked, then slipped in without fuss, a fish through reeds.
Simple displays, a classic parlor layout. Behind her, the door closed on its own; opposite stood a small door that led deeper, like a throat into the house.
Just then.
With the keen senses of a Fifth Rank, she caught faint, broken sounds through that inner door—soft as moth wings tapping paper.
“…”
