CONTENT WARNING: This chapter contains some scenes that may not be suitable for very young readers. Reader discretion is advised.
LUCIUS
THE ROYAL CAPITAL of Polarcus. From afar, this city would look like a paradise. Some might see it as the land of their dreams. Some would be willing to risk their lives just to take refuge within the fortified walls of this city. There was a palace here. There was a cathedral over there. There were statues of the supreme deity Arcanus everywhere.
Who would not want to be in the place where the magic and majesty of the Kingdom of Arcerea was in full display? Surely, this would be everyone's envy.
But if Lucius were to be asked, he would say that it was not worth it. If he was born outside Polarcus, he would not have dreamt of living here. He would rather live a quiet life in the provinces than in the busy and dangerous streets of the capital. It was a cesspool! Growing up, he had a challenging childhood in this city.
Lucius looked out of the carriage's window to enjoy what the nighttime view had to offer. They had already left the inn ten minutes ago, but they were still in what was known as the lower city. Several women and street children were sleeping in cardboard boxes. Some men were rummaging through the trash, looking for food this late at night.
"What the hell is the Senate doing for these people?" he asked. They drove past more of men, women, and children lying on the dark streets. "Aren't they supposed to implement a welfare program or something? That's the least they can do for the citizens."
"They don't want to spend a single merc on people who, in their own words, contribute nothing to society." Isabella gazed out of the window too. "They'd rather debate on renaming streets than providing food for the poor. Apparently, it's a strategy to force these people to leave the capital and look for food and job somewhere else."
"They're willing to spend huge amounts of mercs to fund that stupid tournament, but they're not willing to fund a feeding program? Those damn politicians and their priorities!"
In his twenty five years of stay here, Lucius had explored almost the entire capital. He had been in the slums, he had been in the posh districts. He had met hundreds of people. He could not help but notice that the hill where the city stood represented the social hierarchy.
Almost everyone living in what was known as the lower city or the district on the base of the hill were the less fortunate and the abandoned. Some of them came from the provinces and dreamt of improving their lives by living and working in the capital. They tried to make the climb, but miserably failed. They fell to the gutter, head-first, unable to rise again.
The carriage felt slightly inclined, a sign that they were moving uphill the king's avenue. Lucius roamed his eyes on every business establishment—restaurants, pubs, parlors, groceries, smith's shops, gambling dens—that their carriage drove past by. He frequented those places and he knew every owner of those shops.
The iron gates of the Royal Palace was within his sight as the carriage moved its way to the hilltop. They reached an intersection where the most important buildings in the kingdom could be viewed.
On his left was the old Senate building where politicians would pretend to care for the people. They were all talk, no action. The only time they got something done was when it served their personal interest. When he was younger, Lucius once protested in front of the Senate along with other well-meaning individuals. They demanded better housing in the downtown district. But their cries were dismissed as public disturbance and the protesters were forcefully dispersed.
On his right was the cathedral of the Church of Arcanus. Lucius loved to call it the "Cult of Arcanus." He was not a fan of religion, and he was vocal about his criticisms of the church. He once believed in the supreme deity that almost everyone in Arcerea worshipped. But a tragedy struck in his life, and his faith in a good and generous god went down the drain.
At the center was the statue of a hooded figure standing as tall as the stone buildings around it. Lucius had always wondered how the sculptor knew that the supreme being Arcanus did not have a face. Did they see the deity in person? Or did that image come from a potentially inaccurate interpretation? He would probably never know since the person who designed the monument passed away decades ago.
This was where the royalty and the nobility live. Lucius knew they had reached the hilltop once he saw these landmarks and an insane number of city guards patrolling the government buildings and residences in the capital.
As the carriage got closer to the iron gates, Lucius noticed an unusual number of capitol constabularies walking within the perimeter. They walked like hounds sniffing for a scent. If only they were as competent as they should have been, there would not be any need for an arcane tracker like him to be invited here.
The palace guards opened the gates and let the carriage in. Lucius's eyes went wide as they drew closer to the Palace. Not everyone would be given a chance to set foot in this heavily secured area and marvel at the beauty of the most regal building in the kingdom. Being invited here could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He was lucky enough to get an invitation, though not under the best circumstances.
He had heard so many tales about what it felt like to be inside. Now it was his turn. His eyes sparkled with joy and excitement. Could anyone blame him? This was his first time here. If he were lucky, he would be hopefully invited again. This was not a palace tour, Lucius reminded himself, so he needed to act professionally.
The carriage slowed down. The horses uttered a neigh as they stopped on the front steps of the Palace. The coachman opened the door for them. Isabella and Lucius disembarked, the latter's trench coat sweeping the muddy steps. His eyes cast their gaze around the building's facade. He could not believe he was standing before the Palace, the very heart of the Kingdom of Arcerea. He even pinched his cheek just to make sure that he was not dreaming. It was dark outside, but the building's majestic look and intricate architectural designs could still be appreciated.
"Glad that you're still available this late in the night," said an old man in navy blue constabulary uniform, emerging from the entrance. When he stepped onto the light, his large build as well as his thick moustache were revealed.
"Good evening, Captain!" Lucius exclaimed, meeting him halfway at the steps. Isabella also greeted him.
"I wish I could say the same. But tonight's not a good night. Not only for the royal family, but also for the Kingdom," the Captain said in a distressed voice. While he had a large body frame, Lucius was slightly taller than him. "But thank you for coming. You must be busy with that arson case. I wager you were chasing a lead when you learned of my request?"
"You'd be surprised, Captain," Isabella said in a matter-of-fact tone. "I found him in an inn, fooling around with—"
"—with a lead that I found!" Lucius finished, drowning his partner's voice. The Captain did not need to know what went down in the inn. "When Isabella told me the code word, I dropped that case and jumped in the carriage almost immediately."
"I'm interested to know what you've found out, but that case will have to wait. This one's more important. Or, should I say, the most important," the Captain said, stepping aside. His large hand motioned to the large palace doors. "Let me escort you to the scene."
The duo had to pass through security before they could actually enter the palace. A male guard began to frisk Lucius. He held up both of his hands in the air as they guard began to pat him—from the neck down to his torso. The guard slid his hand into the coat pocket and froze for a second. He drew a silver revolver out of it.
"That's my personal weapon," Lucius explained, nervously grinning from ear to ear. "Look, I don't intend to shoot anyone in the Palace, if that's what you're worried about. I always bring that revolver with me in case I need to stop an arcaster. The bullets are anti-arcane. I can stop them from using magic with one shot."
"You can have this back once you're done with your business here."
"Fine! Just don't steal the bullets, okay? They're costly." He sighed. Perhaps in a different place and circumstance, he would have debated why his gun should not be confiscated. But he was in the Palace, he could not simply have it his way. He got to follow the rules. "Now I feel less protected without my revolver. If someone managed to kill His Majesty while he's within the hallowed walls of his own palace, how could I be—Ouch!"
He groaned and flinched as Isabella stepped on his left foot.
"What's this?" A female palace guard revealed a small vial of blue liquid from Isabella's small bag.
"Those are my personal concoctions. Let me save you the trouble of asking: I don't have a vial of poison or any deadly chemical with me. I don't intend to kill anyone in the palace."
"We need her stuff for crime scene investigation," Lucius added. "So, please?"
The female palace guard stared at Isabella for a minute before putting the vial back in the bag and handing it to her. They thanked her and the other guard for letting them through.
"The security here is tight," Lucius muttered, "yet His Majesty still ended up dead."
As they walked through the entrance hall, large portraits of previous kings and queens welcomed them with cold stares. For a moment, Lucius thought that there was magic on those paintings because he felt like they were following him with their artistic gazes. Spooky!
They turned to the left corridor, then to the right, then went straight ahead until they reached an elegant double door. They would probably get lost in this maze-like layout if they did not have the Captain or anyone with them.
"We're here to check the crime scene," the Captain told the two palace guards who stood by the entrance. They nodded and swang the two doors open, allowing them entry.
Lucius was about to enter, but he took a few steps back and pointed at the two guards. "Were you the ones who found the body?"
One of the guards shook his head. "They're now in our quarters, still in shock."
"They're somewhat catatonic," the other guard added.
"Can any of them use the power of the arcane?" Lucius asked. "Can any of you?"
"No. None of the guards can. We defend the palace with our sheer cunning and strength."
"We undergo intensive screening to ensure that none of us is a bastard's descendant. The palace is strict about it."
"I guess the royal household doesn't want bastards exacting revenge on them for decades of persecution. Smart move!" Lucius quipped, but it fell flat. "Anyway, thank you!"
He finally went in and caught up with his partner. He was expecting the royal bedroom, but surprise! The crime happened in the throne room. This was way better than what he had expected. Only those with important business could gain access to this area. Colorful banners with merlion designs—the sigil of the Kingdom of Arcerea—hung on the ceiling. The red carpet went all the way from the double door to the throne at the back. Rows of columns stood silent on the sidelines.
They halted at the center where four tough-looking guys clad in armor gathered, hands on the hilts of their swords. Judging by the intricate designs on their breastplates and the royal blue color of their capes, Lucius concluded that they must be the Knights Royale. And they were only sworn to protect one person: the king. Because the king was already dead, the person they were protecting was none other than . . .
"Your Highness," the Captain called. The four Knights Royale stepped aside, revealing two men in evening dress. He bowed his head to the man with disheveled blond hair whom Lucius recognized as the next in line to the Arcerean throne. The prince turned to the captain and regarded him with a simple nod. "The arcane tracker and his assistant are here."
"Partner, not assistant," Lucius corrected. How many times would he have to remind the Captain? The latter kept on forgetting that Isabella was not his assistant.
"Sorry about that."
"I'm sorry for your loss, King Al—" Lucius spoke, but Isabella nudged him on the arm. It was premature to address the heir apparent as king. The Senate needed to confirm the crown prince as the new monarch before he could ascend to the throne and be formally addressed as King. "Sorry, I meant Prince Alphonse. Please don't behead me once you ascend the throne, Your Highness."
"Your Highness," Isabella greeted, performing a curtsy.
"You must be Lucius Lancaster?" Prince Alphonse scrutinized the arcane tracker from head to boots.
"Yes, Your Highness." He was unsure whether or not to bow his head every time he addressed the future king. But he still did, just to be safe. The truth was, he never liked these formalities. He hated bowing, he hated addressing people with fancy titles. But he was a subject and he got to follow protocol. "And this is my partner Isabella Melchior. We're at your service."
"I want you to find who killed my father," the prince spoke in a modulated voice. He tried to look strong, pretending to appear kingly before his subjects. Poise mattered for a ruler. "I want you to bring them to justice, whoever they may be. I will reward you with anything as long as it is within my power."
"Your Highness can honor your humble subjects by rewarding us with castles and acres of lands to take care of," Lucius replied politely. In his peripherals, Isabella turned her head away and slapped a palm on her face. "Forgive me. It's rude to ask for a reward this early."
"As I have said, as long as it is within my power, it can be yours."
If only Lucius was a believer, he would have said, "Thank Arcanus for this opportunity!" From just thousands of mercs, he could now possibly own a castle. A freaking castle! He would no longer need to rent that rundown apartment. The mere thought of it made him smirk, which faded instantly as Isabella's warning to not put a smug look came to mind.
"We strongly suspect that the late king was killed by an arcaster," said the young man beside the prince. "No ordinary human could have done this gruesome act."
Lucius instantly recognized that man's face. He had seen him in the grand cathedral of the Cult—sorry, of the Church of Arcanus. His name's Gillespie Grandois, a royal advisor and the head of the Church. In contrast with the prince's appearance, he got black hair and a chiseled face. If he stood next to a marble statue, one would be confused which was real and which was not.
"I must retire now to my chambers." The prince darted a glance at his guards then at the investigators. "I hope you will find the answers that I seek."
"You can count on us, Your Highness." Lucius placed his right hand on his chest—Isabella did the same—and bowed their heads. Prince Alphonse went on his way out of the throne room. The advisor Gillespie and the four Knights Royale followed. "May we now—"
Before he could raise his head again, Isabella pushed it down. "Wait until he's gone, okay?"
"May we now see the body?" Lucius asked as the double door closed.
"This way." The Captain led them to the platform where the throne stood quietly. If it could only talk, it would have already told them of what went down here. A bloodied body of an old man sat there, silent and dead. "The late king was found here an hour before midnight."
Lucius climbed the steps to the throne, studying the carpet to see if there was any hint. He saw nothing of interest, so he took a closer look at the late king's corpse. His Majesty's head hung low, blood was dripping from his mouth.
The arcane tracker followed the trail of blood. The chest seemed to have exploded as it left a hollow cavity in there. Bits of the dead man's entrails scattered on the lap, on the throne and on the platform. He did not even flinch as he examined them closely.
"Magic dust?" Isabella handed him a vial of blue powder. That's one of the concoctions she was keeping in her small box.
Lucius removed the stopper and threw the vial's contents into the air. The powder scattered across the throne room. At first, nothing happened. Everything looked the same. But as seconds went by, some items in the room began to glow. The dead king's chest glowed the brightest. There was also a faint glowing trace on the red carpet, from the center of the room going to the throne.
"What's with the glowing stuff here?" The Captain cast glances around. "Is this supposed to mean anything?"
"You know how firing a revolver leaves gunpowder residue on the shooter? Whenever an arcaster uses their powers, they also leave magical residue in the air or on the surfaces." Lucius paced back and forth on the carpet. "It's too minute. We won't see, smell, taste or feel it. But the magic dust can."
That special kind of dust was Isabella's creation. One of the products of her curiosity. She was thankful that the guards did not confiscate it earlier. Back when Lucius was still an arcane hunter, he often used it to follow the trails of arcasters who used magic to avoid capture. He was like a hound sniffing the scent of a fugitive.
"Hmm?" His eyes squinted at the corpse. He climbed the steps again and knelt beside the throne. He stared at the limp right hand of the king. A tattoo with complicated design was inked on both palms.
"What is it?" Isabella stood next to him. "Found something remarkable?"
"The king's palm." He raised the dead man's hand, palm facing upward. "The magic dust didn't react to it. See? There's nothing here. Not even a faint glow."
"Which means . . ." His partner crossed her arms, eyes squinting. "The king wasn't able to use magic to defend himself?"
"He's the most powerful arcaster in the Kingdom." Lucius stood and caressed his chin. He did not mind if he had just touched a corpse. Others would find that disgusting, but definitely not him. "Yet he got owned in one or two moves by whoever attacked him. Based on the traces, the king was probably standing at the center of the room when his frail body was sent flying to the throne. He was then blasted with another magic that ended his life."
"Do you think this was an ambush?" Isabella pointed at the center. "The king stood there. Someone appeared out of the shadows. Then killed him."
"Or his guard was down because he met someone he knew very well. Doesn't have to be an ambush." Lucius tried to imagine how the king got attacked from that spot. His squinting eyes relaxed as he remembered something about a "guard." "Wait a minute. Where's the Knight Royale who was supposed to protect His Majesty around that time?"
"He's already in custody of the palace guards," the Captain answered. "He's being questioned for failing in his duty. Said he was unconscious and he couldn't remember anything. He only had one job, and yet . . ."
"Could it be that Knight Royale?" Isabella turned to her partner. "If they're alone in this room when the King was attacked—"
"Could be," Lucius agreed, nodding. "Could be a member of the royal family. Could be his own advisor. Everyone in the palace is a suspect, unless the culprit is an outsider who managed to sneak inside and commit this horrendous crime. The next question is why."
Why, indeed, would someone kill the king in cold blood? Lucius had only known two monarchs—now three—and he had heard nothing but praises to the murdered king. Despite losing his job as an arcane hunter because of the Reparation Proclamation, he could not deny that Bennett the Benevolent was a beloved ruler by his people.
"Maybe someone wants to succeed him as soon as possible," Lucius jested, to which he got a shush from Isabella. "Maybe the reason is personal. Someone's been holding a grudge against him for years, and saw the perfect opportunity tonight."
"How about politics?" Isabella pointed out. "Some of the king's policies might be too controversial that he earned the ire of noblemen and otherwise."
"The Reparation Proclamation is the most controversial of them all," Lucius recalled, putting his hands on his waist. "Even members of the nobility did not agree with the idea that the descendants of the bastards should be allowed to coexist with us. They want to wipe them off the face of the kingdom."
Who else? Who could have wanted the king dead? Lucius squeezed his eyes shut to think. An answer crossed his mind, making him open them much wider this time.
"The Church must be disappointed. They've always believed in the divinity of the royal blood, and it's no secret that they strongly disagreed with the proclamation. Those clergymen may be holy, but they aren't above committing crimes. Maybe they realized that their prayers aren't working, so they decided to take matters into their own hands."
"Say that in the presence of the head of the Church, and you will be excommunicated in an instant," Isabella whispered. But her partner did not care. Well, he never cared about it.
"How about his foreign policy?" Lucius turned to his companions. Keeping himself up to date with politics was not one of his priorities. "What's the stand of the late king in international affairs? The world war is still ongoing, right?"
"He wanted to maintain his policy of neutrality," the Captain answered. "He refused to accept refugees from the Yuan Empire now embroiled in a civil war. He rejected the request of the Camerian Federation to establish a military base on our islands. He also turned down the offer of the Eurosian Alliance to join their union."
"Maybe someone doesn't want us to remain neutral in the conflict abroad." Lucius squinted his eyes, staring at the unmoving corpse. "There may be some noblemen and politicians who secretly want to side with one superpower. But the late king is standing in their way."
He remembered his geography lessons. The island nation of Arcerea was at the center of the known world. In the north was the Yuan Empire, the leading global superpower at the moment. In the west was the Eurosian Alliance, a conglomeration of nations seeking to stop the expansion of the Yuan Empire from the north. And in the southeast was the Camerian Federation, a union of states that joined the war recently.
Whichever side the Kingdom of Arcerea choose would have an advantage, as the island was strategically positioned at the center of the conflict. No wonder why the three superpowers wanted them on their side. But the late king chose not to drag the kingdom to the war.
Lucius stared blankly at the floor. So many angles popped up in his head, he did not know where to start. He was like in a buffet and he was unsure which food to try out first.
"We need to know more." He raised his gaze to his companions. "I wanna talk to the Knight Royale who was on duty last night."
"I will have that arranged." The Captain nodded. "Since you've been granted authority by the crown prince to investigate His Majesty's death, I doubt the head of the Palace Guards can refuse that request. They're quite territorial."
"As soon as possible, I hope?" Lucius looked back at the dead king on the throne. He was seeking answers for a number of questions. He was peeking at different angles. This was not just a simple case. His reward of castle and land would have to wait for a while.
"You seem to be in deep thought," Isabella observed. "Did you notice something else?"
Lucius let out a long sigh. "I feel like there's a larger game afoot. Given every possible angle, the king's death can change this kingdom . . . or the world as we know it."
For those who have read the first version in 2021-2022, the language of the entire chapter (except a few lines) has been translated to English.
In the next chapter, you will meet MALAYA, the protagonist for the CALL TO ARMS storyline.
So what can you say about this update? Let me know your thoughts in the comments or on Twitter by using the hashtag #ArcaneWP!