Lanevus’s Schemes

The pungent fragrance had just been blown away by the "Whirlwind" when a dark shadow around Ebner suddenly came to life, coalescing into black chains that wound toward him layer by layer.

In response, seven black flames appeared over Ebner's head.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh…

One after another, the black flames shot out like bullets, hitting the shadow chains with pinpoint accuracy. The shadows silently ignited and dissipated in an instant, reverting back to ordinary, harmless shadows.

Simultaneously, Ebner extended his right hand forward, conjuring a flock of crimson fire ravens in his surroundings.

The half-illusory birds spread their wings, flying out in different directions and charging toward the handsome Viscount Caron.

But Caron merely smiled with one hand in his pocket. With a snap of his fingers, a full moon suddenly appeared behind him, and his figure vanished in the moonlight without a trace.

The ravens, finding no target, could only explode on the spot, dispersing into sparks.

"Is that it?"

Ebner couldn't help feeling annoyed at Caron's abrupt disappearance. He had a good idea of the man's purpose, but the way they'd gone about it felt pointless.

Although the recent exchange of moves was hardly a battle—more like mutual probing with both sides holding back—Ebner was still annoyed by the randomness of it all.

Shaking his head, he smoothed out the traces left by the fire ravens. The crowd that had gathered in curiosity dispersed, and neither an official Beyonder team nor the police showed up.

Since he hadn't harmed any bystanders, he hadn't triggered the "scene's" alert level.

In such an incongruous scene, having someone like Roselle who could act independently and even send people to test others was indeed peculiar…

Just as Ebner was lost in thought, Roselle opened a window in a luxurious suite at the Glaint Inn on Delahay Street and let in a handful of palm-sized ethereal bats.

The bats formed a swarm and landed together in the suite's sitting room, quickly coalescing into the form of Caron.

"How did it go? Find anything?" Roselle poured a glass of red wine, offering it to Caron with a smile.

Caron accepted the glass, took a sip, and shook his head without answering, instead asking, "Who gave you this wine?"

"Is there an issue?" Roselle swirled his own glass, raising an eyebrow.

"It's nothing major; at worst, it might get you hooked on some sort of drug…" Caron replied with an edge of disdain in his tone.

For someone once known as a "Potion Professor," the "additives" in this wine were neither sophisticated nor potent.

"Seems like MI9 has been up to a few tricks…" Roselle sneered, unconcerned. His visit to Backlund was endorsed by the Church, so the Loen authorities wouldn't dare make an open move against him.

Of course, this was also because he had only recently acquired the title of "Son of Steam," and his influence and potential hadn't yet reached a critical level.

"Alright, enough about that," Roselle waved his hand dismissively before shifting the subject. "What about that potential new companion? Any impressions?"

"At least a Sequence 6 'Scholar of Yore.' He's likely either a follower of the 'God of Knowledge and Wisdom' or an 'investment' of the Lord of Storms," Caron answered after downing his wine.

"The Lord of Storms isn't likely. Those 'hotheads' aren't much interested in steam engines… so the God of Knowledge and Wisdom, then? That's acceptable," Roselle nodded thoughtfully before smiling and saying to Caron, "You didn't seem too enthused about this treasure hunt. Why don't you just keep a low profile and shadow us the entire way? Consider it an opportunity to observe our new companion's skills and character."

Caron shrugged indifferently, took a bottle of potion from his pocket, and tossed it to Roselle. "For you."

"What's this?" Roselle asked in confusion.

"You've been overindulging with Mrs. Laurent lately, and your body's showing the strain… either drink this or restrain yourself for a month or two. Your choice." Caron clapped his hands before dissolving into moonlight, disappearing from the room.

"Why hold back on the free perks from MI9…" Roselle muttered to himself, downing the potion without hesitation—a testament to his trust in Caron.

…

In the morning, Klein didn't rush to the Dock Union Hall but first found Mike the reporter and borrowed a fake press card. Then he donned a blue worker's uniform and headed for Black Palm Street in the East Borough.

On the way, he bought a copy of The Tasok Times, whose headline was none other than last night's "Iron Man vs. Green Giant" spectacle.

A wealthy locomotive magnate named Frami Cage had even issued a statement clarifying that he was not Iron Man and that his company could not produce the kind of armor described in the article.

Klein smirked at this, thinking, The reporters have been misled by Roselle's novels. This sort of armor isn't something rich people could just buy. They should be questioning the Church of the Steam.

Reflecting on this, Klein arrived at his rented home and, in a roundabout way, broached the topic of rent with the landlord.

Surprisingly, the landlord, a former gang leader, promptly refunded his deposit.

Klein felt a twinge of embarrassment, not expecting the landlord to respond with such admiration and awe, saying, "Iron Man is as chivalrous as he is in the novels. He compensated me generously through multiple channels this morning, enough to cover my losses."

So it seems this Iron Man isn't a bad person… Why, then, is he after Lanevus, clashing with the Aurora Order? Is he someone Lanevus swindled coming for revenge?

While contemplating, Klein pocketed the deposit and set off to find another "safe house" in a different district.

Ambling down the narrow street amidst early-morning commuters, Klein suddenly noticed a middle-aged man, about forty or fifty, with graying temples, bundled in a thick jacket, who dropped a crumpled cigarette from his trembling, chilled hand.

Klein stopped, picked up the cigarette, handed it back, and struck up a casual conversation, learning that the man was an unemployed worker who hadn't eaten in three days.

Moved to compassion, Klein invited the man to a hearty meal under the guise of an interview and inquired about his story.

When the man set his spoon on the now-empty plate, he spoke in a worn voice tinged with nostalgia and sadness, "You can call me Old Kohler.

"I was a good worker once…"

…

Inside an office at the East Balam Dock Union Hall, Lanevus watched a nearby "Ascetic," who continued flogging himself while seemingly oblivious to the presence of the "Giant." A mocking smile played at Lanevus's lips.

He suddenly opened his linen shirt, revealing the raw, crimson flesh beneath the skin on his chest and abdomen.

The scarlet tissue formed the shape of an inverted human figure.

In a distant, solemn voice, Lanevus intoned, "Complete a task, and forgiveness shall be yours."

The Ascetic halted his self-flagellation, prostrating himself at Lanevus's feet. "My Lord, what is your command?"

"At precisely eight o'clock tonight, deliver this letter to Erin. Not a moment sooner or later," Lanevus instructed coldly.

"With reverence, I accept Your decree." The Ascetic respectfully took the letter and slowly retreated.

As he watched the man leave, Lanevus buttoned his shirt and allowed a sly smile to spread across his face. Iron Man? Ha! Every hero in Roselle's Heroes series has an archenemy tangled in their fate… I've prepared one just for you

(End of Chapter)