Chapter 8

Since ancient times, a severed finger has been a sign of warning.

Who on earth had sent such a delightful little gift to Winter Winslet?

The problem was that there were far too many possible suspects for it to be an easy guess.

How many people bore a grudge against Winter Winslet? Surely more than just a few.

Just in case, I asked Dahlia,

“Did you see the person who brought this box?”

“Yes. I received it directly.”

“Describe their appearance as best you can remember.”

“Um… They were wearing a hooded cloak pulled all the way down over their head, so I couldn’t really see. They were about this tall, and their body was covered by the cloak, so… Oh! The voice! It was definitely a woman’s voice.”

Not exactly a useful clue.

But a warning or threat only worked if the sender’s identity was known.

Certain that the sender must’ve left some kind of lead, I took the finger out of the box and examined it under the lamplight from different angles.

“Ah!”

Dahlia let out a short gasp.

It seemed she hadn’t realized the package she’d accepted contained a severed finger.

The finger was bony. The nail was short and clean.

Since it showed no signs of cosmetic grooming, the victim was more likely male… but still, it wasn’t particularly meaningful information.

Could the owner of the finger be someone from Winter Winslet’s inner circle?

I set the finger down and this time turned my attention to the box it had come in.

And at last, I found what I had been looking for.

On the black-painted interior of the box, a subtle engraving had been carved.

Running my fingers over it, I traced the shape. Seven lines intersected to form a heptagram.

In other words, a seven-pointed star.

It was the exact same pattern as the ornament on the ring worn on my right index finger, so now I was certain of who had sent it.

The Heptagram Society.

They were a secret organization operating from the shadows of the royal capital Lambart. They were a group that, in essence, brought together the main bosses featured in Candela of Judgment.

Of course, Winter Winslet was one of them.

Whoosh!

At the moment I discovered their identity, the box burst into flames and vanished on its own.

“Oh no, fire! Did I do something wrong? I was very careful with it until I handed it over…”

“No. It was probably designed to do this from the start.”

The one who had sent the finger was that meticulous about leaving no trace behind. And now, I thought I had figured out which member of the Heptagram Society had sent it.

It was time for me to go meet them.

“Dahlia.”

“Yes?”

“Close and lock all the windows in the house. From this moment on, turn away any visitors.”

“As usual?”

“…Yeah. As usual.”

What I was about to do couldn’t be seen by anyone.

And at the same time, no one else could be around. It wasn’t safe otherwise.

The Heptagram Society’s method of communicating in secret, hidden from the eyes of the world.

It was black magic.

I went up to the study on the second floor, closed the door, and leaned back into a soft lounge sofa.

There was a bottle of strong liquor and a crystal glass on the table, so I poured myself about half a glass.

I downed what must have been five shots of liquor in one go. It felt like my throat was burning.

A surprise drinking session, one might say….but it was all to aid in the use of black magic.

In the world of Candela of Judgment, the three components that made up a human being were the body, the mind, and the soul.

Some spells that acted directly on these three components or those that drew life force from them and used it in place of mana were classified as black magic. And strong liquor, which dulled the mind, served as a useful aid in casting such magic.

As I waited for the right level of intoxication to set in, I looked down at my right hand.

The ring bearing the Heptagram emblem on my index finger was a secret token indicating that the wearer was a member of the Heptagram Society. It was also a magical artifact that allowed even those who couldn’t use magic to activate preset spells.

The spell engraved in the ring was one of spiritual projection.

However, Winter Winslet, who possessed a B-rank talent in black magic, didn’t need to rely on magical tools.

[Initiating spiritual projection spell.]

In that instant, a wave of intense fatigue washed over me, accompanied by the strange sensation that my entire body was stretching unnaturally.

It was the backlash from using black magic.

Thump. Thump.

My pulse began to slow.

Or perhaps time itself had slowed.

Or perhaps it only felt that way.

Blink. Blink. And blink again.

My vision began to change.

Each time I closed and opened my eyes, the saturation of my surroundings dropped slightly.

The third time I opened them, the study had transformed into something out of a black-and-white film.

The spirit realm had no color.

No color, no scent, no tactile sensations, no taste.

But it did allow one to transcend distance.

“So you’ve finally shown up, noble one.”

Before I knew it, I was no longer in the study. I stood at the center of a strange, otherworldly place.

The Heptagram Society’s meeting place.

A forsaken channel layered atop the spirit realm, known as Disgard.

“So then, let us begin the Disgard meeting.”

The name sounded vaguely familiar… but well, whatever.

There were seven seats in the meeting hall, and aside from me, two of them were occupied.

Not every member shows up to each meeting.

Only those who were needed at the time appear.

“This meeting was convened at the request of the Second Point.”

The man seated in the first chair among the seven spoke.

His name was Oliver Ljungberg.

The leading mediator of the Heptagram Society and its self-appointed chair. He was also the head of a continent-wide criminal cartel which was commonly known as the Thieves’ Guild.

And seated right next to him, in the second chair—

“Always late, aren’t you, Third Point?”

That ominous voice belonged to Sakis Lubas.

He was the Head of Foreign Security Operations for the neighboring Republic of Libron.

In other words, the spy chief.

And seated in the third chair was me. Winter Winslet.

Just Winter Winslet, plain and simple.

Looking at it this way, this really was the gathering of villains.

***

The Heptagram Society wasn’t bound by any hierarchy but rather operated through a loose, horizontal alliance.

And that loose alliance meant they could betray one another and become enemies at any time if things went sideways.

To these people, the “chaos in the Kingdom of Laurencia” was nothing more than a shared goal pursued for their own individual gain—

Which is why cooperation and conflict always coexisted within the Heptagram Society.

So, how exactly did Winter Winslet fit in with this crowd, and what kind of shared interests bound them together?

That’s something even I, a long-time veteran of Candela of Judgment, don’t fully know.

Just what had Winter Winslet done, getting tangled up with thieves and spies, to end up with a severed finger being delivered to his home?

“Did you receive the gift I sent, Third Point?”

The spy chief spoke.

“Third Point” was referring to me.

The Heptagram Society was an anonymous organization, and its members referred to each other by numbering the seven points of a heptagram star.

I asked Second Point. Meaning I addressed Sakis Lubas, the spy chief from the neighboring country.

“Was it you who sent me that finger?”

“It was.”

I expressed my displeasure, as politely as I could, about receiving such a thing out of the blue.

“Was it your own finger you pulled out and sent? I was about to come do the honors myself. So I suppose that saves me the trouble.”

“……”

Sakis Lubas let out a deep sigh before replying.

“It was the finger of a traitor.”

“A traitor?”

“Yes. Your courier betrayed us. He diverted the goods that were supposed to be delivered to us.”

At that point, I realized there had been some kind of secret deal between Winter Winslet and Sakis Lubas.

“That’s… a serious problem.”

I chose my words as vaguely as possible.

Truth be told, I wanted to ask what the deal was about. But doing so would definitely raise suspicion.

So I tried to circle around with a more indirect question, hoping to extract some information.

“How much did he divert?”

“When we first checked, three sticks’ worth of the shipment were missing.”

So the goods involved in the deal were shaped like sticks, apparently.

It was good to have gotten that piece of information. But the situation as a whole was turning sharply against me.

There had been foul play in the deal, and now I was being held responsible for it.

[Notification]

[A death flag has been raised by this character.]

Seeing that even a death flag had been raised, it was clear that Sakis Lubas, the one on the other side of the deal, was the kind of man who wouldn’t hesitate to kill me if the problem wasn’t resolved.

How dare he?

Despite my irritation, I squeezed out every bit of information I knew about the Heptagram Society and argued back.

“The goods must’ve been exchanged through the Thieves’ Guild. In that case, isn’t it possible the goods were stolen from their side?”

“I’ll explain that part.”

Oliver Ljungberg, one of the Heptagram Society’s seven points and the master of the Thieves Guild, let out an annoyed sigh.

“In fact, I was the first to be suspected by the Second Point. Given the nature of the goods in question, it probably looked like I couldn’t resist the temptation and took them for myself. Don’t you think so?”

“I still haven’t completely ruled out that suspicion.”

Another sigh.

Oliver continued.

“In any case, to prove my innocence, I had to accept a considerable loss. That included the lives of some of my own people. So, if your courier is found to be the cause of this mess, I believe I’m equally entitled to hold you responsible.”

“Oho.”

Look at this guy.

He was skillfully drifting from defense to accusation.

Then he added,

“Don’t misunderstand. I’m not trying to squeeze anything out of you. I just want you to take a step back, as I’ve already made concessions myself.”

With no other choice, I nodded.

“Fine. But I’ll interrogate the traitor myself and confirm the facts.”

“There’s no need for that. The confession has already been extracted.”

Sakis Lubas’s words made my eyebrows twitch.

“You tortured him? Without even asking for my permission?”

“We have plenty of experts on our side with a lot of experience in that area. Think of it as saving you the trouble.”

“Where is the traitor now?”

In response to my question, Sakis Lubas pointed downward with his index finger.

“At the bottom of the river.”

In other words, they had already killed and disposed of him.

As if he wasn’t a damn villain through and through.