Chapter 18: A Game of Chess and a Sacrificial Lamb

【High Priest, if you truly want him dead, you’ll have to kick him a bit further away.】

The system drawled slowly.

Si Qingxuan remained expressionless as he slammed the window shut with a loud clatter, not sparing another glance at the man outside.

Midnight arrived, and the chiming of the clocks in the room once again began to echo with a clang, clang.

Although Si Qingxuan had already disposed of a few earlier, the remaining wall clocks were still diligently fulfilling their duty.

The crisp, resonant sound of striking metal rang out one after another, ringing so loudly it made one’s brain buzz.

Si Qingxuan was already annoyed, and the racket from the clocks aggravated him to death.

In an instant, he activated ‘Talent: Judgment’, accurately smashing those wall clocks to smithereens.

【High Priest, you’ve improved!】

【Your control over the ‘Judgment’ talent is getting better and better—hey, wait, wait, don’t mute me!】

【I’m done praising you, I’ll shut up right now!】

The system tactfully chose to remain silent.

Si Qingxuan turned his head, casting a glance at the tightly shut window.

It was now the castle’s “curfew” hour, and the “consulting detectives,” as guests, were required to return to their respective rooms.

Si Qingxuan had already issued a warning earlier, so the Awakened presumably wouldn’t take it lightly.

And Zhaolin, as a member of the team, had to shoulder his own responsibilities.

Even if he wanted to stay here with Si Qingxuan, it was impossible.

They had not yet figured out the rules of this ancient castle.

What if the rules enforced a collective punishment mechanism, where if one detective failed to return to their room in time, all the detectives would be penalized?

Zhaolin could not afford to take that risk.

Having figured this out, Si Qingxuan was certain that Zhaolin wouldn’t come climbing his window again anytime soon, and his mood gradually calmed down.

【…Are you alright, High Priest?】

“I’m fine,” Si Qingxuan answered almost instinctively.

“Couldn’t be better.”

【It seems the Awakened have already begun investigating this ancient castle.】

【They certainly are anxious.】

“After all, one person in their team has already started to be corrupted by the illusion.”

“They have no choice but to rush.”

Si Qingxuan slightly lowered his eyes and extended his right hand.

A ring of unknown silver runes slowly emerged in the air, spinning rapidly around his palm.

A few seconds later, black flames soared into the air.

A giant black bird emerged from the center of the flames, much like a phoenix rising from the ashes.

Talent: Ghost Taming.

Si Qingxuan summoned the only eerie creature currently in his possession, the Ghost-Weeping Thrush.

【Weren’t you just complaining about how ugly it was earlier?】

【Why are you summoning it now?】

【This is what they call ‘eating your words’, right?】

Si Qingxuan had no intention of correcting the system’s increasingly derailed vocabulary.

He raised his arm slightly, and the giant black bird docilely landed on his wrist.

It kept its eyes open, quietly waiting for commands without letting out a single cry.

Si Qingxuan pondered for a moment before adjusting the Ghost-Weeping Thrush’s form into that of an ordinary crow.

He then opened the window and let it fly out.

“I’d like to see just what kind of monsters and ghosts are lurking in this old castle.”

Si Qingxuan leaned against the window, his cheeks illuminated by the dim, warm light, but his eyes were ice-cold.

The ethereal, pale moonlight cast down from the sky, illuminating the skeletal black woods not far away.

Facts proved that the advice to return to one’s room by midnight was absolutely correct.

The Spanish Awakened, Domingo, wove through the black woods, searching for a place to conceal himself.

The forest looked as though it had been ravaged by fire; from the towering trunks to the lower bushes, everything was completely bare.

He could only hide within the shadows of the trees.

Unfortunately, his luck was poor.

A gentle breeze blew past, shifting the dark clouds.

Pale moonlight poured down from above, dispelling more than half of the shadows in the woods.

Domingo had nowhere to hide.

And right behind him, a woman followed closely.

She kept her head down, her neck drooping at a twisted angle, and her skin was a lifeless sickly pale.

Below her shoulders, she wore a loose, gray petticoat, the hem stained with rotting leaves and mud.

If one looked closely, they would see tiny white maggots dropping wherever she stepped.

Suddenly, she raised her head—

“Urgh… ah…”

A long howl squeezed out as if from a broken bellows, and the moonlight illuminated the rotted half of her face.

Domingo only caught a glimpse before quickly ducking into a patch of shadow.

He had only come to investigate the scene where the maid hanged herself, but unexpectedly ended up witnessing the entire process of this lady’s “suicide.”

At first, Domingo stood far away, only seeing a gray figure approach a tall, dead tree.

A thick hemp rope with a noose dropped down from the branches, caught the person’s neck, and jerked violently upward.

In just a moment, the person’s neck snapped, and she was left hanging from the tree like a cotton doll.

Domingo: “…”

Domingo gathered his courage and approached for a closer look, realizing that the one hanging from the tree was a woman.

Or rather, a female corpse.

Judging by the degree of decomposition, she clearly hadn’t just been hanged.

Suddenly, the corpse’s head moved.

She slowly and stiffly turned her head, her entirely white eyes staring dead straight in Domingo’s direction.

Domingo: “…”

Then, as if fueled by a sudden burst of energy, the corpse began to thrash about wildly.

Domingo: “???”

If he wasn’t mistaken, she had to be Sophie, who had “hanged herself” in the woods, right?

Setting aside whether this situation could even be called suicide—wasn’t he a consulting detective?

He was here to investigate the hidden truth behind the hanging and give Sophie justice!

He never expected that coming out in the middle of the night to examine the scene would result in him being chased by the very victim of the case!

This was way too absurd!

Domingo ran for his life while fishing potions out of his medical kit.

He pulled out all sorts of bizarre vials.

The thing chasing him right now was a corpse—were there any potions that worked on someone already dead?

Therefore, these potions could only be for Domingo to consume himself.

Domingo didn’t care anymore.

Potions for replenishing blood, fortifying the body, boosting reaction speed, stabilizing his sanity—he familiarly downed every single one of them.

Once he confirmed he was fully stacked with buffs, he drew his trusty dagger, ready to fight.

Watching the corpse draw closer and closer… Domingo calmed his mind and stopped running.

Instead, he continuously adjusted his stance, aiming straight for the corpse’s already fragile neck.

However, a few seconds later, the corpse stopped right in front of him, taking not a single step further.

The female corpse simply hung her head with her eyes rolled up, staring fixedly in Domingo’s direction.

Inexplicably, Domingo suddenly had an illusion: it seemed she didn’t want to hurt him at all.

He subconsciously took a step back, pressing against a hard tree trunk.

Following the line of the corpse’s gaze, Domingo turned around and glanced up—

Above his head, high up on the branches, two lines of text appeared to be crookedly carved.

[To the esteemed Ricardo Morlanden.]

[“Once the game of chess is over, the king and the pawn go back into the same box.”]

Domingo: “…”

By the time he reacted, the female corpse in front of him had already disappeared.

After tossing and turning for ages, Domingo returned to his room to regroup with his teammates, only to find the hands on the wall clock already pointing to two o’clock.

“You mean to say, that female corpse kept chasing you just to deliver this message?” Garcia asked thoughtfully.

It had to be said, he was the luckiest one tonight.

Originally, digging up a corpse was the hardest, most exhausting, and most dangerous job.

He hadn’t expected to take a trip to the cemetery, find Sophie’s coffin, only to discover it empty—he had basically dug up a whole lot of nothing.

Who would have thought that Sophie was actually over on Domingo’s side.

Aside from Garcia, both Domingo and Zhaolin were in terrible shape: one had seen a ghost, and the other had lost his soul.

Setting aside the still-shaken Domingo, what on earth was going on with Zhaolin?

Ever since he came back, he had been acting completely out of it.

One moment he would freeze in his tracks, and the next he looked as if he wanted to charge right back out.

His entire being exuded an aura of painful endurance.

Such an emotional state rarely ever appeared on Zhaolin.

Zhaolin hadn’t been part of this temporary team with Garcia and the others for very long.

Due to his naturally friendly disposition, Song Zan had quickly mingled with the Spanish Awakened.

But Zhaolin had remained mysterious, keeping his distance from his teammates.

This actually closely matched the shy and introverted image of Chinese people that Garcia and the others had in mind—only later did they realize that this impression was completely wrong.

Zhaolin simply disliked wasting time.

He was especially bad at spending time on idle chatter or banter.

Yet, for an S-rank Awakened with such firm willpower and a cold, hard personality, there was actually something capable of plucking at his heartstrings and affecting his state.

Garcia felt a bit uneasy about this.

“Don’t mind me. Let’s continue discussing the clue from earlier.”

Zhaolin shook his head, signaling that he was fine.

“I’m… just in a bad mood due to some personal reasons.”

“Hahaha. I see.”

Garcia instinctively wanted to make a joke to ease the tense atmosphere.

“I gotta say, I often see this exact look on my friends—you haven’t gone through a breakup, have you?”

Zhaolin: “…”

Everyone: “…”

Seeing Zhaolin’s face abruptly turn cold, Garcia immediately cursed inwardly: Ah? Did I actually guess right?

But, a breakup? Since when did Zhaolin even have a relationship to break up over?

Although it was somewhat baffling, Garcia decided to quickly skip over this topic.

Thus, he steered the conversation back to the clues regarding this illusion.

“In those two lines of text Domingo saw earlier, the most obvious clue is the name. The person’s surname is Morlanden, undoubtedly the owner of this castle, a member of the Morlanden family.”

“Speaking of which, the current master of the castle—the young master we met earlier—what was his name again?”

They conversed in low voices, completely unaware that outside the open window, a black crow was standing in silence.

Without breaking a sweat, Si Qingxuan used the Ghost-Weeping Thrush’s ability to eavesdrop on their conversation, catching just about all the intelligence they had gathered.

He knocked on the wardrobe door.

“Who is Ricardo Morlanden to you?”

The young master: “Mmph, mmph, mmph!”

Si Qingxuan: “…”

‘Oops, I forgot to pull the rag out of his mouth.’

Feeling a bit guilty, Si Qingxuan opened the wardrobe, and sure enough, he saw the young master glaring at him with a face full of accusation.

“Sorry.” Si Qingxuan rubbed his nose.

“The situation was urgent just now, and I acted a bit too abruptly.”

The young master let out a soft snort and asked, “Did someone come into the room just now?”

“From the sound of it, it was a stranger?”

“It was one of the detectives here to investigate the case,” Si Qingxuan said without changing his expression.

“I sent him away.”

“Really?” The young master was somewhat suspicious.

“But I managed to hear a little from inside the wardrobe. He seemed to be asking for your name, and the way you two were talking sounded really strange…”

Si Qingxuan subconsciously twitched the corners of his mouth, revealing a slightly twisted smile.

“Alright, alright! Stop smiling!”

“Please don’t make that kind of expression using my face, it’s terrifying!”

Si Qingxuan’s expression instantly dropped, reverting to his cold and indifferent demeanor.

The young master, however, patted his chest and sighed in relief.

“Much better. Much better.”

Si Qingxuan: “…”

‘This brat is really begging for a beating.’

“Down to business.”

“Do you know a man named Ricardo?”

“Of course I do. He is my father,” the young master said.

“I heard that the butler, Rudolf, and my father grew up together. They lived in this ancient castle since they were children… just like I am now.”

“I once found an endgame layout on a chessboard in the study. It was said to have been played between my father and Rudolf. They were equally matched friends.”

Chess?

That would explain that mysterious message…

“You want to investigate my father?” The young master shook his head.

“I advise against it. My father’s name is a taboo word around Rudolf.”

“Why?” Si Qingxuan asked.

“Weren’t they very close?”

“Uh, probably because my father had a midlife rebellion, ran off with the family fortune, and abandoned everyone in the castle when he left?” the young master replied.

Si Qingxuan: “…?”

“Unbelievable, isn’t it?”

“My mother was already pregnant with me at the time—after my father disappeared, my mother soon passed away from illness.” The young master shrugged.

“I was raised by Rudolf. He treats me very well and always puts me first.”

“Although his attitude can be quite overbearing and dictatorial at times, it’s not surprising: after all, he watched me grow up.”

“It’s only natural that he refuses to serve me as his ‘master’ the way he served my father. I don’t blame him.”

“But now, he has changed.”

“After the first time he turned into a monster, rushed into my room, and told me, ‘I am going to sacrifice you to Him,’ I finally understood one thing—”

“He doesn’t even see me as a junior who needs strict disciplining.”

“He merely sees me as a precious lamb.”

“He raised me just so he could slaughter me at the right moment.”