Baron looked at the Dwarf. "You’re saying... I recently asked you for that staff?"
"Recently?" Zophie faltered. "No, that was six years ago. Young Master Baron, don’t you rember? It was when you were driven out of the Lake Castle and the Inner Side by those usurpers. That’s when you asked for it."
’He asked for the staff six years ago?’
An assassination plot that was six years in the making? Baron didn’t dare to entertain the thought, but he had no choice.
"And did I ask you to craft the staff, Master Zophie?" he asked again.
’It’s too early to jump to conclusions.’
According to this world’s understanding of the Bloodless, if one of them stays away from the Inner Side for too long, their mories of it will fade under the effects of the Law of Oblivion.
By that logic, after so many years under the Law’s influence, my predecessor’s mories of the Inner Side and his broken engagent should have faded significantly, even if he still recalled them.
The Judge in court said that I (my predecessor) killed Anthony because he had taken the Knight Order positions promised to and my cousin Edward, and secretly traded them to the Constantine Family for ten Wizard’s Lawbooks.
That hatred, they claid, drove to kill him.
But why was there no ntion of this in my predecessor’s work journal, the Secret Notes, or even in Yelena’s ssages within them?
’Sothing that big couldn’t have just happened without any warning, right?’
Judging from the old diary and the vague mories in his head, his predecessor, Baron Constantin, didn’t seem like the type to just take things lying down.
Hearing Baron’s question, Zophie hesitated before saying, "No, of course the staff wasn’t yours, Young Master..."
He added, "It was Master Fran’s."
Information about Fran instantly surfaced in Baron’s mind.
Fran Constantin, his predecessor’s father. He was killed and devoured by a Beast on the Foggy Day of 1978, the year Baron turned twelve.
His death ca six years after that of Baron’s mother, Maria Per.
"Looks like you didn’t kill Anthony, Young Master."
The Dwarf could see the expression on Baron’s face beneath his hood. "Those sons of bitches from the Pell Clan... They’ve been hunting all over the Plains ever since your... incident. I thought they wanted to identify you, but now it looks like that might not be it."
’The Pell Clan?’
Baron rembered that was his mother’s family—his uncles’ clan. ’Are they the Constantine Family of today?’
’The Constantine Family wants to capture Zophie? Why?’
’Because they’re afraid that if I escaped, I’d find him and overturn the verdict!’
’That ans they... or at least one person among them, knows who frad !’
Baron’s heart pounded. He felt he was on the verge of uncovering the truth when the dungeon door was pushed open. He and Zophie spun around.
The High Priest and the head of the Bone Departnt appeared in the doorway, clad in red robes and wearing Bronze Masks, each with a single golden eye.
’This is bad.’
So thought the Dwarf and the prison breaker.
The High Priest and the head of the Bone Departnt glanced at Baron and the Dwarf, then at the Dragon Devourer Cultist bleeding from a head wound on the floor.
"Blood Departnt, what is the aning of this?"
The High Priest spoke, his voice as deep and mysterious as the face hidden behind his Bronze Mask.
The Chain of the Imitator activated silently. Baron could only hope the identity it had randomly simulated was still that of a Dragon Eater Association Cultist. That way, he’d at least have a fighting chance when things inevitably turned ugly.
He hoisted up Zophie—who hadn’t yet managed to don his Dragon-Devouring Robe—with one hand, cleared his throat, and said:
"I ca to the dungeon because I had so questions for this Dwarf."
"What questions?" the head of the Bone Departnt, standing beside the High Priest, demanded aggressively.
He’d heard from the cultists under him that the heads of the Blood and Bone Departnts were fierce rivals, both vying for the position of High Priest.
’This one ans trouble.’
Baron said, "I suspect those two cultists and this Dwarf are spies from the Law Enforcent Organization. I intend to use this Dwarf as a sacrifice in the next blood ritual, as a warning to any other treacherous mbers within our ranks."
Baron gave Zophie a little shake, and Zophie played along perfectly, letting out a stream of curses. "Hey, you Dragon Eater Association bastards! I’ll fuckin’... shove this up your mother’s... and your father’s..."
It was such a string of bleeped-out profanity that even Baron couldn’t help but smack Zophie on the head. "Shut your mouth, Dwarf! This is no place for your insolence!"
At the sa ti, his heart was in his throat.
He wasn’t sure if Zophie’s outburst had provoked the High Priest enough that he might decide to personally teach the Dwarf a lesson.
But the dim Golden Eye from beneath the Bronze Mask rely gave Baron a long look, saying nothing.
’It’s working.’
Baron breathed a sigh of relief.
Just as he carried Zophie past the High Priest and the head of the Bone Departnt, the latter let out a sudden, cold laugh and blocked Baron’s path.
"The head of the Blood Departnt is a Wizard. There’s no way he could lift a Dwarf with one hand!"
"You’re not the head of the Blood Departnt! Who are you? Take off your hood!"
Dozens of torch-wielding cultists suddenly erged from behind him. Each threw back his hood, revealing a single, brilliantly glowing Golden Eye.
Only as they drew closer did Baron see they weren’t holding torches, but long bones sared with so kind of animal grease. As for what animal those bones ca from, it was anyone’s guess.
Seeing their single Golden Eyes and the flas that looked eerily like Dragon Fla, everything he had ever heard about the Dragon Eater Association surfaced from the icy depths of his mory.
The cultists of the Dragon Eater Association used Dragon Fla to kill Giant Dragons. They carved out their hearts, slaughtering the Dragon Race and its related subspecies all over the world... The dragons they killed always showed signs of being burned by Dragon Fla...
’If I recall correctly,’ he thought, ’Bill was also burned to death.’
’And what about those mysterious figures who tried to assassinate Freya... Why didn’t they reappear at the banquet?’
Lost in thought, Baron threw back his hood, revealing his own Golden Eye in the flickering light of the Dragon Fla.
And then he saw the look in the eyes of the High Priest and the head of the Bone Departnt change from behind their masks.
It wasn’t the triumphant glee of a Hunter spotting their prey, but the abject terror of dozing off in class only to wake up and find the principal staring at you through the window.
Before he could even draw his gun, the High Priest and the head of the Bone Departnt dropped to their knees, crying out in unison, "My Lord!"
Baron... was dumbfounded.
He thought, ’My Lord? What are you talking about? I’m here to break soone out of prison, don’t you get it? See these Golden Dragon Eyes of mine, shining like a pair of lightbulbs? Shouldn’t you be shouting "Dragon Knight"...’
He suddenly rembered that he had activated the Chain of the Imitator, aning his current appearance was completely random.
’Did I hit the bad-luck-protection pity pull and score the identity of so big shot?’
Zophie was also stunned, but his shock quickly turned to elation.
He thought, ’Who says Young Master Baron is washed up just because he left the Inner Side? He’s the best, even at staging a rebellion! Can those idiot Knights from Lancelot’s Family or those backstabbing bastards from the Pell Family even compare?!’
By the ti Baron led Zophie out of the dungeon, the whole experience still felt completely surreal to them both.
Zophie looked up at the sliver of sky visible through the canyon walls and said with deep satisfaction, "Young Master Baron, you were right all along... You were born to be a Knight."
He died the mont he finished speaking.
A spear had pierced through him, pinning him to the wall.
The Spear Thrower—Roy Hestia!
Having received the latest intelligence, he had led the Griffin Knight Order here, arriving just before sunset!
At that sa mont, the High Priest and the head of the Bone Departnt scrambled out of the dungeon. Staring at the host of Griffins and Knights, who seed to be plated in gold by the sunlight, the head of the Bone Departnt said coldly:
"We’ve walked into an ambush!"
"Tell all the cultists: Drink the Dragon Blood! Chew the dragon flesh! Smash the dragon eggs! Either Transform into a Dragon or be devoured by one!"
With that, the head of the Bone Departnt pulled a Dragon Heart from his robes and devoured it. He transford into a hideous Half-Dragon monster, unfurling wings just as monstrous. He raised a Magic Staff in his human hand, while his other, now a Dragon Claw, ripped apart the feathered wings bearing down on him.
Those needle-like feathers were the Griffin Knights’ ability: Promise.
He then let out a heaven-shaking roar and led a great host of cultists—now twisted into partial dragons—along with the young dragons forcibly hatched from their eggs, flying straight toward the griffins!!!
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