Caelix bowed again, deeper this time. "Wise advice. I will keep it. Thank you for your time." He turned, his steps still measured despite a barely visible urgency in his shoulders. Seris, with a vigilant gaze, escorted him out. Nyxaria remained standing in place, listening to those footsteps recede, then disappear. The sound of the main gate closing softly sounded from the distance.
[System Feedback]
External Entity: Departure logged.
Investigation Status: Inconclusive.
Escalation Probability: High.
Inconclusive? He obtained enough evidence to smell blood! Mara took a deep breath, deactivating [Mimicry Veil]. Her mana usage was substantial. She turned to the altar. The Treaty Stone was still there, untouched, yet felt more... exposed.
Seris returned, her face grim. "He's gone. But he left something." The elf raised her hand, holding a small object made of dull metal shaped like a closed eye. "A Sentinel Ward. Low level, almost undetectable. Left at the gate threshold. Its function is to monitor energy traffic in and out."
"Discard it," Nyxaria ordered. "Then gather Lazarus and Aldric. We're on the chess board now. And our opponent has just seen the position of the king."
She walked back to the throne, but didn't sit. She stood facing toward the main gate, as if able to penetrate the obsidian walls and see the white-robed figure currently moving away. Caelix might not be a fighter. But he was more dangerous. He was the door opener. He was the one who would determine when, and with what force, the actual attack would come.
And in her ears, Lumi's whisper still echoed. They want to hurt Mama.
Nyxaria clenched her hands. Let them just try. The world outside Sanctuary might see her as a prophesied disaster, as a monster that must be conquered. But they forgot one thing: a monster that guards something, especially someone, is a monster that is the most unpredictable.
And most deadly.
She stood facing toward the main gate, as if able to penetrate the obsidian walls and see the white-robed figure currently moving away. Nyxaria's red eyes didn't blink, reflecting the cold crystal light. Inside, Mara counted down—three, two, one—a reflex from eight thousand hours waiting for respawn at the same point, when the game world was still code and death was just a temporary disruption. But this was different. Death here was permanent. And this time's threat didn't come with drawn sword, but with questions and system permissions.
Caelix. Level 88. Truthseeker Inquisitor. He wasn't a fighter. He was the key that opened the door for the real fighters.
"My lord," Seris's voice broke her concentration. The elf stood beside, holding the dull metal Sentinel Ward she had just taken from the gate threshold. "This device is still active. Sending subtle energy pulses every exactly twenty seconds. Its contents... only location coordinates and raw energy traffic logs."
Nyxaria didn't turn. "Discard it far away. But don't destroy it. Let him think his device is still functioning, only obstructed by Sanctuary's natural interference."
"And if he suspects deception?"
"Then he will spend his time and resources recalibrating. Time is a more valuable resource than truth for an investigator with a deadline." Because all investigators have deadlines. They're only human. Or almost human. They tire, they hunger, they're pressured by superiors. Basic bureaucracy logic, even in a fantasy world. Mara took a deep breath, forcing Nyxaria's body that didn't need oxygen to perform that calming human gesture. "Gather Lazarus and Aldric. Throne room. Now."
We need an emergency meeting. But what kind of meeting? We don't have many options. The Treaty Stone can't be moved. It's too fragile. But it also can't be left on the altar like bait in the middle of a trap.
The position shift felt strange. Lazarus appeared from the infirmary corridor with solemn steps, his right hand wrapped in temporary bone structure creaking softly with each movement. Aldric came from the workshop direction, his face still pale but his eyes sharp as always, adorned with black circles of exhaustion. Seris was already standing on the left side of the throne, in a vigilant pose. Lumi was not present. Still sleeping soundly in the infirmary, guarded by two low-level skeletons commanded by Lazarus. Good. She needs rest. And we need her not involved in this meeting. Safer.
"The situation is simple and complex at once," Nyxaria began, her voice cutting through the room's silence like a knife slicing silk. "A Level 88 Church Inquisitor has identified Sanctuary as a high-risk zone. He detected the presence of a Legendary artifact—the Treaty Stone—despite me hiding it. He will return. With more people, more authority, and more questions. Our goal: ensure he doesn't obtain enough evidence to justify full-scale military action, while keeping the Treaty Stone safe and stable."
Aldric nodded slowly, his rough fingers tapping his thigh. "Treaty Stone... its condition is still critical. Stable, but like glued glass. Rough magical vibrations, sudden displacement, even exposure to high-level conflict aura could trigger regression. We can't move it in the usual way."
"Then we won't move it in the usual way," Nyxaria said. She shifted her gaze to the obsidian wall on the right side of the altar. A section that appeared plain, without decoration, exactly like hundreds of other wall sections. But Mara knew—from Nyxaria's innate memory—that behind it was an empty space. A niche created together with this fortress, perhaps for treasure storage or perhaps just an architectural defect. "We'll hide it inside the wall itself. Layered by Sanctuary's original obsidian material, reinforced with [World Edit: Corruption] to disrupt any sensor readings."
Lazarus snorted, the dark green sound from his throat vibrating. "A classic trick, my lord. But is it enough? That Inquisitor has a truth skill that seems... disturbing."
"Nothing is enough, Lazarus. It's just that, we must make that insufficiency into a labyrinth that makes him lost." Nyxaria stared at them one by one. "Aldric, prepare a supporting container—something that can stabilize the stone's internal vibrations when moved. Seris, you will leave Sanctuary in one hour. Travel northwest, as if delivering an important message. Make sure the Inquisitor sees you. Create a clear trail, but don't let it be followable."
"Bait mission?" Seris narrowed her eyes.
"Diversion mission. He will spend time trying to trace your destination, or at least divide his attention." Nyxaria then turned to Lazarus. "And you, spread rumors among our refugee NPCs. Say that I—the Demon Queen—am only interested in providing protection to those who have no other place. That this Sanctuary is a humanitarian project, not a political fortress. That the Treaty Stone is just... an old decorative artifact I saved because of sentimental value."
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Lazarus was silent for a moment, then a wide smile bloomed on his wrinkled face. "Ah! Propaganda through servants. I like that. I'll make sure the story sounds naive enough to be believed, and boring enough not to be investigated further."
"Not boring," Nyxaria corrected. "Confusing. Mix it with small contradictory but unimportant details. Let his investigation drown in data noise."
They nodded, each already seeing their roles. But Mara felt something was off. This is all reactive. We're only reacting to his moves. We need something proactive. But what? Attack his camp? That would be direct confirmation that we have something to hide. No, we must play on his field. The information field.
"Go," Nyxaria commanded. "We have severely limited time."
Aldric and Lazarus turned, leaving the throne room with quick steps. Seris still held on, her face serious. "My lord... what will you do?"
Nyxaria stared at the Treaty Stone glowing softly on the altar. "I will bury the truth inside a grave of lies that even the truth itself won't recognize it."
Caelix didn't go far.
Two kilometers east of Sanctuary, on a small plateau providing a clear view toward the magnificent obsidian gate, he set up camp. Not a military camp—no large tents, no conspicuous Church symbols. Just a simple earth-colored canvas, almost blending with the surrounding rocks. A folding table of dark wood was piled with parchment, ink bottles, and several magical measuring instruments that ticked softly. In front of it, Caelix sat on a flat stone, his pale gray eyes fixed on Sanctuary as if trying to dissect it layer by layer.
[System Feedback]
Observation Protocol: Active.Subject: Obsidian Sanctuary.
Anomaly Detected: Energy signature consistent with Legendary-tier artifact (87% match to historical records – Treaty Stone variant).
Recommendation: Continuous surveillance. Await reinforcement.
He disregarded the system's recommendation. The system was just a tool. What he trusted was instinct and thirty years of experience hunting truth for the Church. There was something wrong here. Profoundly wrong. The Demon Queen rose from her long sleep, but didn't declare war, didn't gather demon armies, didn't try to take revenge. Instead, she built Sanctuary, accepted human refugees, and... saved a historical artifact that should have been destroyed.
That defied logic. Unless the artifact was the key to something bigger. His pale hand opened a leather journal, writing in neat and precise letters.
Day 1: Initial contact. Subject (Nyxaria) showed high level of vigilance. Disguise skill active (likely high-tier [Mimicry]). [Truth Seeker] detection confirmed presence of Legendary artifact in throne room. Resonance indicates recent stabilization—likely using Essence of Eternity. Subject refused direct confrontation, chose veiled threats. Preliminary conclusion: she has something to hide, and something valuable enough to risk conflict with the Church.
He raised his head, staring at the figure that had just exited Sanctuary's gate. A female elf, short silver hair, wearing dark leather armor. Arcane Scout Level 78. Seris. She shot northwest at high speed, leaving magical traces deliberately not covered.
Diversion? Or real mission?
Caelix raised a crystal lens, observing that trail. Its direction headed toward border territory controlled by independent guilds. Perhaps delivering a message. Perhaps seeking help. He marked it on his mental map, but didn't follow. His time was limited. He had ten days to produce enough evidence before the Inquisition Institution pulled him and sent a larger team—a team that would bring troops, not just questions.
Priority: physical confirmation of Treaty Stone. Without that, everything was just speculation.
He turned toward a group of refugee NPCs gathering wood at the forest edge, close enough to be seen from Sanctuary but far enough to feel safe. Their faces were full of fear and hope. Potential information source.
Inside Sanctuary, the relocation ritual proceeded with almost tangible tension. Aldric had created a supporting box from cold-formed aetherium metal, layered with shock-absorbing runes. The Treaty Stone was placed in it carefully, its bluish light dimming slightly when separated from the obsidian altar that had accustomed its energy.
"Ready, my lord," Aldric whispered, sweat streaming at his temples.
Nyxaria nodded. She raised both hands, her black nails glowing with dark purple energy. Not the destructive energy of [Void Severance], but the manipulative energy of [World Edit: Corruption]. She didn't change the entire area—just one wall section two square meters wide.
"Open," she commanded.
That obsidian wall vibrated, then like thick black liquid, began forming a hole. Not roughly, but with terrifying precision. A niche appeared, exactly matching the supporting box's size. The air around it changed, becoming denser, more... corrupt. A protective layer that would make holy sensors or truth detection experience distortion.
Aldric carefully shifted the box containing the Treaty Stone into the niche. The stone vibrated gently, but the absorbing runes worked, stabilizing it. "Close."
The obsidian wall flowed back, closing tightly without gaps. No traces. No appearance change. Except, the area around it now had a denser darkness aura, like an ink stain on black cloth—almost invisible, but felt by those with sensitivity.
[Authority Log]
Territorial Modification: Localized Corruption Field applied.
Function: Concealment & Sensory Obfuscation.
Status: Active. Duration: Indefinite (until rescinded).
Nyxaria pulled back her hands. Her mana usage was significant—about 15% of her monstrous pool was consumed in those few seconds. But it was worth it. Now, let's see if our lie is convincing enough.
Days passed. Caelix was busy. He interviewed refugee NPCs one by one, using [Gentle Inquiry] skill that made subjects feel comfortable and open. But what he obtained was only confusion.
"Queen Nyxaria? Oh, she's kind. Gave us shelter, food. I heard she saved an old stone from temple ruins because... its color was beautiful?" said an old woman, eyes teary.
"She has a small child, Lumi. So sweet. Sometimes they walk in the garden together," added a middle-aged man.
"Agenda? No agenda. We're here because we have no other choice. The Church burned our village," said a youth with a flat voice.
No consistency. No valuable information. Just sympathetic narratives that didn't help his investigation at all. Caelix noted everything, but grew increasingly frustrated. They were lied to. Or they were lying to themselves. Or... they were right?
Impossible. A level 999 Demon Queen doesn't wake from long sleep just to become a philanthropist.
On the third day, an unexpected system notification appeared in his vision.
[System Feedback]
Information Warfare: Active.
Passive buff applied: [Mental Fortitude] increased 5% for all allies in Obsidian Sanctuary territory.
Note: External intelligence network detected.
Source: Eclipse Merchants.
Eclipse Merchants. Caelix furrowed his brow. That merchant guild was neutral, but they had the best information network in Aeternum. If they got involved...
A private message arrived, from a high-level encrypted communication channel only accessible by senior Inquisitors.
[Torin – Eclipse Merchants]: Inquisitor Caelix. We observe increased activity in your area. As a neutral party, we wish to offer information: Subject Nyxaria has a contract relationship with us. She is a law-abiding client. According to our internal data, your investigation has a 10-day deadline. If there's no concrete evidence, you will be pulled. We can... facilitate. For certain compensation.
Caelix almost crushed the crystal lens in his hand. They're protecting her. Or at least, they don't want conflict disrupting their trade routes. He replied quickly, with official Inquisition code.
[Caelix]: What information do you offer?
[Torin]: That the Treaty Stone you seek is not in the location you think. And that chasing its trail is a waste of time. Our offer: stop the deep investigation, report "no evidence," and we will guarantee preferential information flow about Nyxaria's activities to the Inquisition Institution for the next six months. They know about the Treaty Stone. They know everything. Caelix felt cold creeping in his backbone. Eclipse's network was deeper than he thought. But the offer was tempting. Six months of information from inside Sanctuary... that could be his career. But it also meant betraying his oath as an Inquisitor.
[Caelix]: I will consider it.
He disconnected. Time remaining: seven days.
Inside Sanctuary, Nyxaria received a report from Seris who had returned. "He didn't follow me," the elf said, slightly disappointed. "He only noted my departure, then returned focus to interviews with the refugees."
"Lazarus?" Nyxaria asked.
"Rumors have spread. Even some refugees are starting to believe that my lord is... an art lover who saves artifacts for aesthetic reasons." Lazarus sounded amused.
"And Eclipse?"
"They sent me a message," Seris said, handing over a sheet of aetheric paper containing a transcript of Torin and Caelix's conversation. "They're offering themselves as a dampener. But Caelix hadn't accepted."