Chapter 3
Part 2
In response to my words, the room broke out into a variety of responses.
The three magi from the Meluastea faction blinked dumbly, and the twin maids held their silence as if they had no permission to speak.
The Princess of Silver...her reaction was still hidden behind her veil. And finally,
"Ahahahaha!"
Touko Aozaki burst out laughing.
"Very good. That's the El-Melloi princess for you. To tell the truth, I was worried this Assembly was going to be a rather boring affair, but now it's become kind of interesting, hasn't it? What do you think, Lord Byron? It seems to me there's a little truth there, at least."
"...I'll acknowledge that," Byron spoke heavily. No matter that the dead body of his daughter was in front of him, the head of the Iselma family's bearing as a gentleman was unbroken. In a way, speaking from the perspective of a magus, one could say his behaviour as a father was worthy of pride.
"But I cannot allow you to simply wander around freely. You are still a suspect, after all."
"What about me, then?" Touko put her hand on her chest. "How about I take care of keeping them under observation?"
"Unfortunately, Miss Aozaki, that will not do. Have you forgotten that you are also a suspect here?"
"...I see. Well that is a problem." Shrugging, the scarlet-haired woman easily dropped her apparent interest.
Knowing what we did of her, there may have been nothing more to it than that. At the very least, it seemed like she didn't plan on using her title of Grand to bulldoze her way through everything.
"Then what about me?"
The sound of footsteps.
Of course. There was still one person who had yet to show up. One woman who at this gruesome scene held an unquestionable authority over everyone else.
"Sorry for being late. I heard the gist of things, but if it's come to this, there should be no problem if I keep watch, right?"
"...Lord Valueleta..."
Inorai Valueleta Atroholm.
One of the corners that made up the triangle of the Three Great Families. The old woman at the very peak of the Valueleta faction.
Of course, if you were to look for someone more trustworthy in this situation, you wouldn't find someone above her. Even if the Clock Tower were to do an official investigation afterwards, almost no one would doubt her testimony.
"No objections, ladies and gentlemen?" she spoke calmly, sweeping her gaze across those gathered.
The Princess of Silver and her maid, Rejina. The father, Lord Byron. The three magi of the Meluastea faction, here by coincidence. Touko Aozaki, the Grand. And of course, Gray and I.
Even the Princess of Gold, reduced to nothing but a severed head.
Nodding in satisfaction, the old woman clapped her hands together.
"Alright, everyone is dismissed. From now on, its the detective's turn."
***************
Effectively, the only ones left were Inorai and myself.
As expected, none of the other magi dared to oppose Lord Valueleta's word, and quickly retreated from the room.
Perhaps because I had been halfway paralyzed by nerves I hadn't noticed it before, but the cloying smell of blood was enough to make me want to vomit. Thanks to my classes on
, I had become somewhat used to such things, but I wasn't certain anyone could get used to the smell of an entire human being's worth of blood.
I had yet to touch any of it, yet even so I felt the rusty iron smell filling me from my mouth down to the bottom of my stomach.
"So, where do we start?"
"...if possible, from the layout of the room and the body," I replied, pushing a hand into my chest to hold down my nausea.
"I see. Well, go ahead," she said with the jerk of her chin. Though she made no objection, it was still a bit unpleasant.
No, I was of course grateful for her cooperation. However, my compatibility with her was just too low. Responding to frankness with vaguery, and vaguery with frankness was my usual style, but I couldn't see her having any problems seeing right through it all. Less an issue of the difference of age between us, it felt like we were just incompatible from the start.
Actually, if we had been the same age, there was a good chance we might have been friends.
Either way, as far as I could manage, I began to inspect the room with the utmost focus.
The size of the room itself was similar to that of a small cafe. The main pieces of furniture were the large canopied bed, and the desk with the jellyfish-looking lamp. Numerous impressionist paintings. On a rather modest looking bookshelf were arrayed a number of low level grimoires. Though they were all luxurious enough as to match the name of the Princess of Gold itself, as far as the contents they seemed to be the barest of basics.
There was one window and one door. For the record there was also a ceiling, but that wasn't really something a human being could use to enter through. If we were going to include that in the list, then we might as well turn to thinking about magecraft allowing you to pass through walls.
"...they were rather thorough, weren't they?" Looking at how completely the body had been torn apart, I muttered to myself.
The body and limbs had been cleanly cut into pieces, revealing a cross section that repelled the eyes. There were no signs of resistance - looking at the way she was cut, it seemed like she was killed before she had a chance to offer any. A magus skilled in Necromancy would be able to discern the cause of death even with a body in this state, but that was an area of magecraft I had no connection with.
...the reason I was used to dead bodies was from a completely unrelated incident.
"Trim, do you think you can gather up the parts?
"Understood." At my words, Trimmau quickly jumped into motion.
Seeing that, Inorai slightly narrowed her eyes.
"I see...with the body this scattered, we can't even tell what the murder weapon was."
To begin with, the fact that magecraft was a possible weapon in the scenario meant that the cause of death could be more or less anything. As Touko had suggested, Trimmau itself was capable of imitating more or less any physical weapon. Just as having a Closed Room was more or less meaningless, the idea of a specific murder weapon was similar.
"...that being said, if we can find out why they set up a Closed Room, it might lead us to something."
"I see," Inorai nodded. "In short, you're looking at things as if the sealing of the Closed Room was an accident."
"Precisely. In detective novels, the main reason the culprit creates the Closed Room is to eliminate evidence of their involvement. Logically speaking, if it was a murder that no human could have done, then the culprit can never be caught - that is the underlying assumption. However, when the suspects are all magi, that assumption doesn't hold water."
Really, they could make as many Closed Rooms as they'd like. Even limiting yourself to long-distance curses, there were a number of varieties available. For example, things like manipulating the water in the blood to force a stroke, or overloading the victim with fire elemental energy to cause a heart attack were not difficult. Of course, in this situation the victim was experienced in magecraft as well, so such basic curses could be all but ruled out, but the idea of 'impossibilty' that a Closed Room was supposed to bring about was easily dismissed.
As such, it was my supposition that the creation of the Closed Room had been an accident.
It wasn't that they intended to create a Closed Room, only that it became one by chance.
Following that train of thought, it was possible investigating the situation of the room could lead to a clue...
"...nothing, huh?"
But I couldn't think of anything at all.
I wasn't really cut out for this kind of cramped thinking anyways. I was more of the type to read a detective novel starting at the back, lording my knowledge of the future over the characters as they struggled to discern the culprit.
However, there was something else that had caught my eye. Something that would be present in any woman's room that was conspicuously missing.
"...why are there no mirrors?"
In response to my muttering, Inorai spoke. "Maybe she had grown sick of her own face?"
"If you were that beautiful, wouldn't you be more likely to develop into a narcissist?"
To be honest, it was beyond criticism. Art that had been developed to such a level wasn't something you could simply get tired of. If you gathered together the people who would be happy just looking at that face until they died, it would be a long line indeed. Some of them might even call that line a stairway to heaven.
Though maybe a stairway to hell would be more appropriate.
"Ahahaha. I understand the logic, but I guess that's the pride of youth. Once you get to my age, you won't be interested in looking at mirrors anymore. It just makes you think you should have pursued plastic surgery more zealously when you were younger."
"...Lord Valueleta," I spoke on reflex, earning a satisfied grin from the old woman.
"Kidding, of course. Actually, would you believe that even now I'm enchanted by my mirror for at least thirty minutes a day? Sorry sorry, I just suddenly had the urge to tease a bit."
Being so thoroughly on the opposite side of my usual exchanges, I felt totally out of my element.
Actually, it was a little bit exciting, but I decided to put a lid on that for now lest it lead somewhere inappropriate.
"By the way, do you mind if I ask another question?"
"By all means. I'm not the kind of person who would be capable of refusing Lord Valueleta of all people, after all."
"Glad to hear it," she continued without reservation, her wrinkled features twisting into a smile. She spoke as if it was any ordinary conversation, despite the undeniable substance to her question. "Are you really that interested in reviving the El-Melloi family?"
"I'm not really all that attached to the El-Melloi family itself, no. This is just the way things turned out," I replied. "From the start, the El-Melloi faction was at the bottom of the pile. By the time things had rolled around to me, all the high ranking families had already either been estranged or distanced themselves. After that, among the younger generation who were related by blood and hadn't recevied a Magic Crest yet, I happened to have a particularly high compatibility with the Source Crest...something like that. Well, Crest Splitting was a pretty common practice within the El-Melloi faction to begin with, so having a high compatibility was to be expected."
Crest Splitting - the practice of taking a small portion of the Magic Crest from a magus of the main family and transplanting it into someone else.
Originally, the first generation of a Magic Crest was developed by implanting a fragment of some lost Phantasmal Species or Mystic Code, called a 'core,' into the body. Of course, since you were implanting a completely foreign object into the body, the rejection response was far stronger than what one would see when receiving a Crest from a parent. By suffering through those rejections for generations, the core would slowly become saturated with the hosts' magecraft, and thus the Magic Crest would be complete.
However, magi that used this method to produce Magic Crests were all but extinct in modern times.
While there weren't that many from outside previously established magecraft families that decided to pursue it, those that did typically received a Crest Split from a much more historied family. Of course, since it was a transplant from a stranger, the intended function of the Magic Crest - to act as a crystallized mystery - was all but lost. Even so, it was a method that would produce results many generations faster than starting from scratch, and it was much easier to control the development of a Crest made in such a way.
This method did damage the original parent Crest, but with the help of a Tuner such a level of damage could normally be repaired within a few months to a year. In exchange, they could expect a tremendous loyalty from the recipients. As such, it became common place for families involved in factional struggles to create such branch families, and the original family from which they were derived would come to refer to their Magic Crest as a Source Crest.
(...though apparently, if the head of the Source Crest's family dies, that loyalty doesn't mean all that much.)
It was often mentioned that the late Lord El-Melloi's death in the fourth Holy Grail War was a result of recklessness caused by his youth, but he really had gone there treating it like some sort of game. Or perhaps, he had just been trying to show off his talent to a certain someone.
"I see. But if you aren't attached to the El-Melloi family itself, shouldn't you be satisfied by now? You and your brother have done more than enough. You should be able to fetch quite a price by selling off the family, don't you think? It's not like there is anyone who could buy it that would be problematic."
"...ahh." Of course, I would be lying if I said the idea hadn't occurred to me.
To be frank, the faction warfare within the Clock Tower was a load of crap. Putting aside the Meluastea faction who focused entirely on their research, the Aristocratic and Democratic factions continually sharpening their swords for each other just made me want to yell at them to grow up. If they keep saying they are so far above earthly things, why are they still squabbling over political power?
However,
"There is an enemy in front of me, and I have the means with which to fight it. Therefore, I can find no reason not to do so," I replied.
Well, sorry. Unfortunately, I was no better than they were. My brother might have been able to come up with a better reason, but not me.
"I see. You're a hardcore fighter then." Rather than sounding like praise, it was more like she was just parsing the data. Then, as if it had been nothing more than a topic for gossip, she switched to a new one. "Is it true that the Princess of Gold had been looking for asylum?"
"Unfortunately, that is the case," I answered honestly.
Lying carelessly while the truth was still uncertain would do little more than make my situation worse. Though it had been a common enough occurence in the old El-Melloi family.
"Hmm. Why is that?"
"Apparently, Lord Byron's methods of improving on the Princesses had become inefficient. She had also said that they were seeking asylum out of their obligation to protect themselves."
Yes. An obligation, she had said.
Not a right.
In other words, she had already thought of her own body as nothing more than a means to reach the Spiral of Origin - she had fully adopted the mindset of a magus.
"...I see. Sounds reasonable, doesn't it?" Inorai said with a nod. "From my perspective, it seemed to me that the Princess of Gold had obviously reached completion. It's not that strange for a previous methodology to fail when reaching a new level. And I can't really say Lord Byron is open-minded, either."
As if she had struck upon an idea, the silver-haired old woman made a knocking gesture on her temple.
"In that case, there's a possibility the Princess of Silver knows something."
"Interested in helping gather some information then?"
"Unfortunately, that would be a bit of a conflict of interest. My job is just to keep an eye on you this time," she flatly refused.
Her tone and attitude were rather frank, but her ability to keep matters divided seemed appropriate for a Lord. Well, if that hadn't been the case, there was no way she would have risen to the top of one of the major factions. Completely different from the smallest, weakest El-Melloi faction.
"...when did this all start?" Suddenly, Gray whispered behind me.
"When did what start?"
"...oh, just...about the Princess of Gold. Of course, she may have been pretty since she was a child, but can you really change someone's face that much just by how you raise them?"
Something in her words made me pause. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, so instead I changed the subject.
"Gray."
"Yes?"
"When you were at Adra, did my brother say anything about his attitude when investigating the incident? Like, 'it's meaningless for a magus to think like that,' or something."
"Ah...yes," the grey-hooded girl replied with a nod, speaking haltingly. "Umm...something like...there was no meaning to asking whodunnit or howdunnit in an incident involving magi..."
Of course, I remembered that detective novel vocabulary.
Whodunnit - who committed the crime.
Howdunnit - how did they commit the crime.
Certainly, when it came to magi, those two things would be far too flimsy to rely on. On top of not being able to confidently say what type of magecraft was even used, when everything from faerie rings to slip through walls and curses to kill from a distance were in play, the possibilities were almost limitless.
"But...the whydunnit was an exception...I think."
"...ahh, that makes sense."
Even if they were some kind of superbeing that could cheat the laws of physics, magi could never deceive thought itself.
In a way, it could be said that they were creatures that existed for that purpose. In order to reach the unreachable 「 」, they were existences that had gathered together the full sum of their will. Gathered together all manners of Concepts.
...though no matter how I talked about it, I was one of them too.
"Master," Trimmau's emotionless voice called out. "I have finished arranging the pieces."
As she had said, resting upon the bedsheets was now what had once the Princess of Gold reproduced. As if inspired by a jigsaw puzzle, the body looked like it had been cut into close to twenty pieces using an electric saw. It's beauty was enough to make one forget that it was dead, inspiring a whole new kind of nausea.
"The parts have all been...gathered, then..."
Depending on the person, gathering the parts of the body together was useful for a number of schools of magecraft.
For instance, as I had mentioned earlier, Necromancy. In the West, most were influenced by astrology, and so arranging the parts according to the twelve constellations and ascribing them each a meaning made them available for use as catalysts for a variety of types of magecraft.
Even in the incident at Adra, the twelve constellations and 72 angelic names came up, and certain body parts of each magus were being stolen - though it had all been a front for stealing their Magic Crests in the end.
"It seems like she had no Magic Crest from the beginning. Well, the Princesses are more like the results of their magecraft, so Lord Byron, as the user of that magecraft, is probably the one who has the Crest."
"...I see."
In that case, commitment to the family's magecraft meant dedicating themselves to their father, did it?
Resisting the twin tortures of the feeling of nausea caused by the smell of blood and the intoxication caused by her beauty, I took some time to observe the parts of the corpse. The thing that seemed most dangerous was the artistic nature of it, like a devil's hand reaching for my soul. It could be said that was because I was a magus, but the almost blasphemous attractiveness of it could never be confused as coming from God.
Suddenly, I felt a faint pain in my eyes.
It was coming from the edge of the broken door.
Using my fingers to lift one of the wooden fragments from the stone floor, something fell out from it.
(...sand? No...is this ash?)
The fact that it was making my eyes hurt meant that there was some level of magical energy in it. Considering this was the living place of a magus, that wasn't all that odd.
"...Miss Reines?"
"Did you find something?"
At the same time, Gray and Inorai called out to me.
"...no." Wrapping it in my handkerchief, I hid it in my coat's inner pocket.
Putting my hand over my eyes, which had begun overheating, I gave a small smile.
"...anyways, I need to get my thoughts together, so I'll be returning to my room."
Originally Posted by Sandstorm77
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And hopefully the story behind the delay is interesting.
