Chapter 26 What Is the Cost?

A gust of cold wind swept over the table, causing the flame within the lantern to flicker violently.

It was only then that Shandela shifted her gaze from the scrolls and looked towards a corner of the room—Indeed, a wooden window had at some point been pushed open by the strong evening breeze, revealing a portion of the night sky.

As a master-level warrior, she no longer needed to sleep the six to eight hours a day like ordinary people; resting for two hours a day was sufficient for her. Usually, she would spend this time on physical strength and swordsmanship training, but in recent days, she had unusually invested all her energy into the investigation of the case.

However, after a period of busyness, Shandela still came up empty-handed.

The soothsayer had seemingly vanished into thin air. Whether it was gang members or local residents, all said they had never seen the person. Even those who knew of the fortune-telling house were few and far between. She had also enlisted the help of the Western City Police Station in her investigation and had visited nearby blocks several times, hoping to find some clues—after all, she didn't expect to catch the suspect in one go but at least wanted to catch a glimpse of them. The results were still disappointing.

She even doubted whether such a person truly existed within Magnificent Castle.

Shandela stood up and walked to the window that had been blown open by the wind. The cityscape at night was lackluster, and the sky was always shrouded in clouds and mist. She suddenly found herself missing the nights on the Old Continent.

Just as she was about to re-shut the window, a flickering firelight caught the corner of her eye.

Shandela paused slightly. From the height of Distant View Tower, she should have only been able to see the faint glow of street lamps, which resembled the light of fireflies, and that too only in the streets close to the high tower.

This was the first time she had seen a fire at night not appearing as mere specks.

But Shandela quickly realized that this was not some ordinary light; rather, it was a fire breaking out somewhere.

That wasn't much of a concern. Magnificent Castle was a port city with well-constructed water channels; putting out fires was not difficult. Moreover, firefighting was also one of the City Guard's responsibilities, which she took very seriously, having never slacked off in their training. Surely, it wouldn't be long before the fire brigade arrived at the scene.

But out of curiosity, Shandela still picked up a telescope and aimed it in the direction of the firelight.

To her shock, it wasn't just any house on fire; it was the grand theater on Golden Street! Through the telescope, she could clearly see the theater's distinctive silhouette and the rooftop cross decoration burning vigorously within the flames. Just a week ago, the Sinclair Theatre had hosted the second prince and his entourage. She hadn't expected it to engulfed in flames tonight.

At the same time, Shandela noticed that there were no signs of fire on the buildings next to the theater—it was solely this building belching out thick smoke. The sight raised strong suspicions in her; it was implausible for the theater, which was always attended at night, to burn to this extent without intervention. If it wasn't a fire spread from its vicinity, the answer was nearly obvious to her.

It was very likely a case of deliberate arson!

But why would someone want to burn down such a harmless and notable building?

For some reason, Shandela's thoughts turned to the missing soothsayer.

Could this have something to do with the Heretical Cult members?

At that thought, she no longer had the heart to stay in the tower. She quickly donned her coat and hurried to the bottom of the tower, waking up the deputy who was sleeping on the first floor.

"My lord... Are you going to the fire scene?" the deputy asked, looking confused. "Such a matter doesn't warrant your personal attention..."

"We're not going to extinguish the fire," Shandela interrupted.

"What do you plan to do?"

"Assemble a squad from the city guard, and have them arm themselves," she replied gravely. "We're going to catch the arsonist."

...

"Drink this, you'll feel better."

Judy brought over a bowl of hot medicinal soup and offered it to Dane, who was lying in bed.

After drinking it, he let out a long sigh and his complexion seemed to become much rosier.

"I had no idea you had such a hiding place." Judy looked around the room and couldn't help but exclaim. Although the house was deep in an alley, the space inside was not small at all. The three-room and one-living-room layout was sufficient for a formal residence.

"In our line of work, it's always best to be careful," Dane replied with a wry smile. "I just didn't expect to be caught in the open like this. How are things outside?"

"There have been continuous sounds of carriages and horses rushing on the streets, and the fire alarms keep ringing intermittently. I didn't dare go out to inquire, but it seems no one has noticed this place."

"Hmm... The horses and vehicles are probably the city guard in action. After all, such a big fire disaster took place, and it was the Sinclair Theatre that burned…" Dane set down the bowl and leaned back against the bed, "As long as no one comes knocking tonight, we should be able to slip through."

"What are your plans next?" Judy's gaze returned to him, her voice filled with gentleness.

His question made Dane silent for a moment before he spoke, "Ghost was right, the Jeddy Brothers' newspaper wouldn't dare to publish this news. When things have calmed down a bit, I might head back to the Old Continent… The police department in the north of the city will surely look for me in secret, and I don't want to implicate you."

Seeing the look of concern on Judy's face, he forced a smile, "It's fine. If I can't expose them here, does that mean I can't do anything to them back there? No one can cover up the truth forever. The bill will eventually be on the real culprit's head. As for you…"

As he spoke, his voice suddenly dropped to a whisper, as if he was afraid of being overheard, "You said you hired a private detective… Were the people who broke into the theatre his men?"

"I… I'm not entirely sure," Judy rubbed her head. "Mr. Zhao never tells me the details of the investigation. He just suddenly visited, asked me to prepare a carriage to wait beside the theatre, and only when he said it was time did he lead me to break in through the main entrance. We even bumped into some police officers fleeing the ticket hall, and I took the gun from one of them."

"So what exactly did you agree to give him?" Dane asked with unusual stiffness. "I mean… the payment. He wouldn't help you for no reason…"

"Five hundred Serir."

"Is that all?"

"What do you mean, 'is that all'!" Judy retorted, unhappy, "That's the salary I could earn in five years!"

"It's considerable for an ordinary person, but you have no idea who you have brought in…" Dane closed his eyes, his mind uncontrollably flashing back to the scenes inside the theatre. Just the detective's assistants? To call them warriors wouldn't be too far-fetched! Facing blades, guns, and fires without any fear, determined to complete their mission even at the cost of their lives, such people can't be measured with a few bags of money. The police department in the north of the city did suffer heavy losses, but weren't those men a loss as well? Out of the six, only two survived. How much time and money would it take to train another four warriors like them?

The cost was certainly not something a newspaper reporter could afford.

"Judy… Are you sure there's nothing else? Tell me the truth!"

Judy hesitated before whispering, "He also asked for some… wishing power."