Bermuda Chapter 430

Before the sun rose, beneath a dim and ashen sky, Hugo stood leaning against the window. Watching the dawn from the duke’s villa was one of his few indulgences. The stillness of the hour before the world fully awakened soothed his mind. The early chirping of birds slowly stirred his drowsy senses.

Right then, a canary that had circled the grounds of the duke’s villa fluttered down and settled on the windowsill.

When Hugo opened his palm, it hopped lightly onto his fingertips. A mont later, as it preened its feathers with its beak, its small form shimred and vanished without a trace.

It was the beginning of a peaceful day. According to the familiar spirit’s report, although the festive mood of his birthday had not entirely faded, the streets were more orderly and clean than yesterday. The residents were exchanging lively greetings as they busied themselves with the morning, most seeming ready to set aside their excitent and return to their routines.

As he mulled over the news conveyed by the spirit, Hugo rubbed his rough jaw, not yet fully free of sleep.

“I should do the sa.”

In his left hand, he held a communication magic device. It was not the one he used for official duties, but a special device paired uniquely to a designated counterpart.

For months, it had not made a single sound—so silent he had half suspected it broken. Yet last night, before the ceremonial birthday of Duke Agrizendro had fully passed, it emitted its first signal.

Five minutes before midnight, in that hushed hour when he was finishing the day’s affairs, the blinking light seized Hugo’s tired gaze at once.

The sun that had left at dawn with sudden business returned like the rising moon. The worry that his considerate refusal might have offended him dissolved in an instant.

Afraid the signal might cut off, Hugo pressed the button quickly. A brief silence followed, tinged with anticipation. Then a low voice, brushing softly against his ear, offered a sweet greeting.

—Are you still awake?

From sowhere in this land, beyond the communication channel, the cautious voice sounded faintly weary. Though the owner of that voice was not before him, Hugo rose reflexively.

He had paced this very window last night as well, searching hurriedly for the golden gaze that might be watching him.

“I was waiting.”

No words followed for a ti, but the low sound of breathing served as an answer. Rain could be heard where Leonardo was. Did he know Hugo longed to be woven into those falling droplets, to dampen even the hem of his clothes? The late call felt both reproachful and welco.

—I left so suddenly. I thought I should say I’m sorry.

“It’s all right. Did things get resolved?”

—More or less... What about you? You said you had sothing to handle too.

“I managed. There was even an unexpected gain.”

After Leonardo left so abruptly and Hugo remained alone at the villa, he sent a few additional ssages before returning to the main estate.

“I’ll confirm the rest tomorrow.”

The news delivered to him through a servant had co in two parts. One concerned his godmother, who was waiting at the estate. But regarding that matter, he had already sought her understanding before inviting Leonardo to the villa and given prior instructions to the household staff.

Still, for reasons unknown, his godmother had apparently been displeased that the duke had left her at the estate and not returned ho. The mont he stepped through the central doors, he had felt the chilled air of waiting. Lamps and lanterns had been lit, illuminating the halls as they awaited their master.

There had been no real problem. No one knew the villa’s location except those present that day. Not even Flinn.

In truth, had Leonardo not spoken of needing to leave, Hugo would have intended to spend the remainder of his holiday—and his birthday—secluded with him at the villa.

But the plan had dissolved, and just as he was bitterly sorting through the fading afterimage of their ti together, a final surprise arrived to close the day. Without bothering to correct his own lack of decorum, Hugo had sat on the windowsill, his silk robe still loosely fastened.

Turning his head slightly, he fixed his gaze on a particularly bright star, and the image of golden eyes brimming with light shimred before him.

“I never imagined the day would co when I’d hear your voice through this.”

—I decided to follow my heart.

Through the magic device, Leonardo’s voice sounded calr than in person. Words that should have felt ticklish and boyish seed subdued instead. Perhaps because Hugo could not see the freely arching brows or the curled lips, the tone felt not rely calm but faintly weighed down.

Sensing sothing subtle in the air, Hugo asked,

“Leonardo, is sothing wrong?”

For several seconds, only the relentless sound of rain filled the silence. Was he sheltering beneath an eave sowhere? Standing foolishly in the rain again? Hugo was about to ask when—

—No.

The tone brightened at once, as if unwilling to pass on the weight in his heart.

—I have a Division Two match on the sixteenth. Third Main Arena.

“Third Main Arena? So the location changed.”

Though the intermittent silences tugged at him, Hugo did not press further. Instead, another opportunity was offered.

—Want to et after it’s over?

As if they were face to face, their conversation continued softly into the deep hours of the night.

Whatever the process, the beginning and end of that day had been perfect—special.

A few hours later, as another dawn arrived, Hugo had secretly hoped for a similar beginning. But until the break of day, the magic device sent no further signal.

The brilliance of sunrise gradually settled over his refined features. Light refracted through blue eyes that might be likened to gemstones. The arc of his lowered lashes cast straight lines across the clear irises like the hands of a clock.

Knock, knock.

“My lord, may I assist you in preparing?”

A retainer’s voice from beyond the door broke through his thoughts. Hugo shifted his gaze from the distance to the clock standing at the side.

Already this late. It was nearly ti to finish preparing and head downstairs.

Straightening from the window, Hugo replied,

“I’ll be out shortly.”

Today, more than ever, there was sothing he could not afford ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) to be late for. He closed the window, sealing away last night’s sweetness, and turned.

Before leaving, he approached the side table, a grave resolve settling in his eyes. Placing the communication magic device into the drawer and sealing it inside, Hugo took a small breath and stepped out the door.

***

“Good morning, Commander.”

“Good morning.”

Legionnaires hurrying along the Council corridors greeted the Legion Commander, who appeared to have just arrived for duty. He was not a man easily approached, and anyone standing before him felt tension—but today their expressions were particularly rigid.

The atmosphere rivaled that of the duke’s estate the previous evening. Even Flinn, following behind, glanced up at his superior.

Hugo displayed no particular emotion. He rely acknowledged them with a slight motion of his eyes and continued toward the Commander’s office.

When he opened the firmly shut door, Gabe—who had been pacing before the reception sofa—turned at once. Though known for his perpetually relaxed deanor despite his swift work, even his face was tense now. Gabe bowed deeply.

“You’ve arrived, Commander.”

“The interrogation schedule?”

Approaching his desk, Hugo gestured for the curtains to be drawn back and removed his jacket, handing it to Flinn. Today his attire leaned unusually toward white. He typically preferred a dark shirt to contrast with his white uniform, but at Flinn’s suggestion—so as not to exert excessive pressure on the suspect during the interrogation—he had chosen a lighter tone.

As a result, dressed in his vest, Hugo resembled a gentleman clad in immaculate white, save for his shoes and tie. Yet seeing him thus, Gabe felt the opposite—He’s made up his mind. Excessive purity could be more oppressive than darkness.

Especially if that purity belonged to Kazard of the Council, known to show no rcy to the guilty.

“The Deputy Commander will notify us once he exits the interrogation room. The suspect requested a al midway, so there was a slight delay. But since it began at dawn, it should conclude soon.”

“I’ll review the statent first. Do we have a copy?”

“Yes. I typed it myself. There were sections where the aning was unclear, but I did not paraphrase.”

“Here.”

Hugo extended his hand, and Gabe passed him the neatly organized stack. The first page was the familiar case summary. A few pages later ca the handwritten statent, cramped and uneven as if written by trembling hands.

After reading several lines swiftly, Hugo’s gaze settled on the repeated phrase, “on a superior’s orders.”

How many months had been wasted before seeing this confession with his own eyes? What change of heart had prompted an insider to reveal the truth now, he could not know. But one thing was certain—persisting in this case, which might have been dismissed as a re mistake, had not been in vain.

As Hugo’s eyes scanned the docunt chanically, a short signal sounded from the adjutants’ office nearby. Flinn, who had gone in Gabe’s stead to answer it, returned after a brief exchange.

“The Deputy Commander has concluded the interrogation.”

“We’ll go at once. Prepare.”

At the order, Flinn gathered the docunts Gabe had handed over. They moved imdiately to a secure location in the eastern annex.

When suspects apprehended externally were investigated, interrogations were usually conducted in the innermost room of the inquiry chamber—like the one Leonardo had once entered. But today’s location was different. Passing through heavily guarded double doors, the monitoring personnel inside the surveillance room sprang to their feet.

“Commander.”

Hugo gestured for them to sit and approached Shoren, who had been speaking with an adjutant.

Without words, he placed a hand on the Deputy Commander’s shoulder. Shoren rely nodded, his expression heavy. Hugo swallowed a sigh.

Receiving the file from Flinn, he proceeded toward the interrogation room.

The tal handle felt especially cold today. At the click, a man seated inside, his complexion sallow, looked up. He wore a Council uniform. The room resembled a small conference chamber or perhaps a sizable eting room.

It was commonly used for interrogations concerning incidents within the Council itself. Though arranged with notable courtesy for a place ant to pressure suspects and uncover truth, the stark white lighting over the table and the silence that magnified even the smallest sound were equally desolate.

“Commander—”

“Sit.”

As the man began to rise, Hugo stopped him and took a seat opposite across the large table.

He placed the interrogation materials on the tabletop and leaned back briefly, staring directly at the suspect.

The owner of the statent avoided his gaze, sitting back down awkwardly with his head lowered.

Hugo examined his movents, expressions, even the cadence of his breathing with a frigid eye before rolling his gaze toward the ceiling and releasing a heavy sigh.

“Shall we begin.”

Lowering his eyes, he turned a few pages in the file and pushed the case summary forward across the table.

Interlacing his fingers, he asked in a cold voice,

“Since when did you begin inserting outdated restraints among the S-grade mage handcuffs?”