“Are all the households in this area victims of this strange illness?” Stepping outside, Fate surveyed the urban village.

“Yes,” the boy nodded.

“Have you traced the origin of this illness? For example, did all patients do the same thing, visit the same place, or encounter a common source?”

The boy pondered deeply, then shook his head. “I don’t know. Honestly, I can’t imagine how anyone living here could’ve been exposed to an infection source.”

Fate fell into thought. Only after visiting every household and confirming identical symptoms did he leave the urban village with Lide.

Judging by current evidence, the illness wasn’t contagious—otherwise, families would’ve fallen ill too.

It felt less like a plague, more like a sudden mutation.

Could those cultists be stirring trouble again?

But their activities centered mostly in the Sanlan Kingdom; sightings in the Karno Empire were rare…

Clues were too scarce for Fate to conclude anything. Besides, he’d wiped out that cult group years ago—they’d barely stand a chance to make a comeback. The odds of this being their new scheme were slim.

“Where’s your local Inquisition Tribunal?” Fate decided to investigate there first.

“In the city center,” the boy hesitated, glancing at Fate. “Mr. Fate… are you planning to confront them?”

“To gather facts,” Fate replied. “Isn’t seeking the Inquisition Tribunal’s help the proper thing to do when in trouble?”

“But…”

“But what? The Tribunal was founded to counter noble tyranny—to stop aristocrats and royals from trampling commoners.”

“But,” Lide pressed his lips together, “since Father left, we’ve had no income. Our savings are long gone. We can’t afford their help. And the contract never said patients get free entry.”

“What service fee?” Fate’s brow furrowed slightly. “Since when does seeking Tribunal aid require payment?”

“I don’t recall any imperial law stating that.”

“I… I don’t know either,” the boy rubbed his head. “But everyone pays the knights a ‘hardship fee’ before filing a case. It’s just… common knowledge.”

…Has it really become common knowledge?

At first puzzled, Fate now felt it urgent to see what the local Inquisition Tribunal had become.

True to tradition, the Tribunal stood at the town’s exact center—symbolizing neutrality and fairness. Its hall-like structure stood proud, flanked by two towering knight statues. The Tribunal flag fluttered above: a cross wreathed in laurel.

The exterior gleamed far grander than the humble wooden hut of old. Whether the inside matched remained to be seen.

“Halt.” The gate guard intercepted Fate and Lide just before the entrance. “To apply for aid, join the queue first. And pay the service fee as required.”

“Required by what regulation?” Fate paused. “I’m from the countryside. Guard, under which imperial law or Tribunal clause is this fee mandated?”

“It’s Tribunal custom. Newcomers don’t know—no shame. You’ll learn,” the guard smirked.

“My apologies, but I’m stubborn. Please state the exact article or clause.”

*Are you deliberately causing trouble?* The guard’s patience frayed. *Which article? I never attended Knight Academy! Even the knights can’t recite those!*

“Sir, follow procedure. Rules are rules. Don’t disrupt order.”

“Everyone does it this way?” Fate echoed.

“Or what? Keep this up, and I won’t let you in.” *Today the Chief Justice is meeting a guest from the Imperial Capital. Letting a lunatic in? I’d be ruined.*

The guard eyed Fate warily. *Who walks around town in full-face armor? Even I find it stifling!*

“By what authority do you bar me from the Inquisition Tribunal?”

“Sir, you’re being unreasonable! As guard, I must stop suspicious persons!”

“Am I suspicious?”

“What do *you* think?”

“In truth, I’m a local clergyman—not suspicious. And Tribunal guards hold no right to block citizens seeking aid.”

“Sir, you stroll in from the countryside and immediately lecture *us* on Tribunal rules? Who understands it better—you or me?” The guard’s tone sharpened. *Country bumpkin—behave. Don’t trample the city with ignorance.*

Tension crackled in the air.

“Mr. Fate…” Lide pressed his lips together.

“What’s the commotion?” Two footsteps approached from within.

“Chief Justice!” Both guards dropped to one knee instantly, heads bowed to the formally dressed man.

Fate sensed the familiar presence first. He looked up.

He’d anticipated this moment ever since winning the resurrection match and crawling from the grave—reuniting with someone from his past.

He just hadn’t expected it so soon.

*How small the world is.*

His gaze settled on the figure beside the Chief Justice—not the official himself, but a striking female knight with flaxen hair.

Nia.

One of his earliest disciples. One of his first followers.

Rumors said she’d become the Empress’s personal guard after he left.

What was the Empress’s sworn knight doing here?…

Still, Fate had no intention of revealing himself.

A clean break. A new life. Strangers were safer for them both.

He let his eyes linger on her just long enough to seem admiring her beauty—then prepared to look away.

But she noticed.

His gaze remained fixed on her, unwavering, unblinking, refusing to shift.