Mystery: The Silver Key

Chapter 5 Requesting Leave

On the quiet street, House drove the carriage back with an expression that was both excited and extremely suppressed.

During their brief eye contact, his "Prying Eyes" allowed him to glimpse a corner of Cyrien's soul. Even though it was a soul with only a title and no power, it was inevitably corrupted by the essence of the Old Ones, or even those beyond the Old Ones.

By a combination of coincidence and inevitability, he became Cyrien's first believer in the world, and a fanatical one at that.

The thought that he had the chance to encounter such a great being in his lifetime filled him with overwhelming emotion; he felt incredibly fortunate.

If the scene and time hadn't been inappropriate, he would have immediately prostrated himself on the ground, approaching that great being with the utmost devotion and humility, licking the dust off His shoes, and offering Him everything.

Unfortunately, he couldn't expose himself so directly. After all, this world had been ruled by false gods for too long. If Max and Carlson, who were standing nearby, discovered his abnormality, he would be killed on the spot or taken to the church's court of judgment, ultimately becoming a mass of extraordinary characteristics to be enjoyed by others.

He still had to pay homage to the Great One. No, he couldn't just go to pay homage to the Great One like this. He had to prepare a gift, a gift of sufficient importance. Although the Great One might not care, he couldn't leave it unprepared; it was a sign of his sincerity.

While House was agonizing over what gift to prepare for his first audience with the Great, Max and Carlson were discussing Sirion in the carriage behind him.

Carlson: "Captain, this Cyril doesn't seem as simple as he appears?"

"He didn't look sick at all, and I had a feeling he recognized us."

"Hmm." Max nodded slightly, but his expression didn't change.

"Don't worry about it. Since he knows Archbishop Horamik and was able to teach and conduct experiments for his brother with the archbishop's tacit approval, there shouldn't be any major problems."

"He probably isn't completely ignorant about the mysterious world, and having had contact with the Archbishop, it's not surprising that he could guess our identities. After all, the equipment of the Mechanical Heart Squad is too conspicuous."

"Tomorrow I will go to the Archbishop to verify his information. If nothing unexpected happens, the focus will then be on the suddenly missing Virch Stamms."

"Judging from what Cyril said before, he most likely came into contact with the Gnostic, who are also a group of madmen who like to create bloody incidents."

Coulson nodded gravely, then continued, "He wasn't sick, nor did he perform that ritual. Could it be that he knew beforehand that the ritual Welch provided was problematic?"

"If he knew the ritual was flawed, why didn't he warn the others? Was it because he didn't want to, or had he already colluded with Welch?"

Max shook his head slightly: "Perhaps they don't know, or perhaps they were warned but it didn't work."

"They're all around the same age. You should know a lot about young people like them who are educated, young, and from relatively good families."

"They are at the rebellious age, more stubborn than oxen, and will not change their minds because of other people's advice. As Emperor Roselle once said, such people would rather bang their heads against the city wall than turn back."

"As for the investigation into Sirion in this incident, we still need some divination."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than House's voice suddenly rang out from outside the carriage, as he was pulling the carriage:

"Captain, I already performed a divination when you went in to question them, so there's no problem."

"He was unaware of this incident. He was also Welch's target, but he abandoned his plan to hold the ceremony due to an accident."

Carlson, slightly curious, asked, "Hey, House, when did your divination become so detailed?"

Outside the carriage, a bead of sweat rolled down House's forehead as he drove the carriage. He hadn't expected that his overly eager explanation would only make Carlson doubt him.

He chuckled lightly, trying to maintain a relaxed and slightly teasing tone, and said, "You've been inside for quite a while, enough time for me to conduct multiple divinations on the target with different questions."

"Just because I'm always the one driving the carriage doesn't mean you can treat me like a coachman. I'm a professional when it comes to divination."

Max nodded slightly, unsuspecting: "Well done. I'll consult Archbishop Horamik again after dawn."

Outside the carriage, House silently breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness, he had managed to get away with it. He had almost caused unnecessary trouble for that supreme and powerful being because of his carelessness.

While this might not be a problem for such a great being, it is an absolutely intolerable mistake for me.

.....

The next day, in the office of a professor in the History Department at Backlund University.

Cyril stood side by side with a young man with short brown hair, blue eyes, and a somewhat youthful face, enduring the oppressive gaze of the old professor opposite them.

The old professor adjusted the gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose and said in a tone that was half questioning and half helpless:

"So, you two are asking for leave again, and you're even using the same reason?"

Do you know you're graduating next month?

Xi Ruien looked up at the ceiling, her feelings extremely complicated. She never expected that asking for leave would lead to such an accident. She had just made up a reason to ask the professor for leave, and then someone else came in and asked for leave with the same reason.

He sighed silently to himself, then organized his thoughts and explained to the old professor in front of him:

"I'm sorry, Mr. Feers, three people died in the club over the weekend, and a police inspector came to question me last night. I don't think I'll be able to concentrate on my studies for a while."

"If I had been more vigilant and had discovered the problem with the ritual that Virch shared earlier, Moen and Icarus might not have died."

As he spoke, his face revealed just the right amount of sadness and regret, and he was also full of frustration and dejection.

Upon seeing this, Professor Fils was clearly taken aback for a moment, but quickly realized what Sirion was talking about. As a professor at the school, although he had not learned the specifics, he had a general idea of ​​what had happened over the weekend, but he did not expect it to be related to the student in front of him.

Immediately, the expression on his face softened, filled with the loving care of an elder:

"Sirius, this is not your fault. You don't need to blame yourself for all the problems. Although I am not a psychology professor, I know that this is not good for your mental health."

"Perhaps you need to go somewhere outside Backlund and get some sunshine; the weather in Backlund is too oppressive for you."

"Let me see. Your leave slip only has one week of leave. Is that enough? Do you need me to add a few more days? Don't worry about graduating. I, Fils, have never had a student who couldn't graduate."

Sirion nodded gratefully to Fils: "Thank you, Professor."

Fils smiled kindly: "No need to be so polite. As your teacher, caring about the physical and mental health of students is also part of my job."

The brown-haired boy next to the Bluetooth speaker looked at the professor in front of him with a surprised expression, then turned his head to look at Cyril beside him. His clear eyes were filled with a big question mark, as if to say: You can do that?

After a brief moment of shock, a look of sadness and frustration, just like Cyril's, crossed his face: "Professor..."

Professor Fels's expression froze: "You're also a member of that Truth Society?"

The boy quietly corrected him: "It's the World Truth Society."

Seeing Professor Fils looking at him, Sirion nodded slightly and added, "We are the deputy commanders."

Professor Fils's expression visibly stiffened and even darkened, but he forced himself not to show it.

The next second, he firmly bowed his head and signed the two leave slips, then waved his hand to signal that the two could leave.

Outside the teaching building, a black-haired, blue-eyed youth patted Xiruien on the shoulder and praised him:

"Sirius, you're a genius. You got old Phil to approve our leave so easily, and even extended our leave."

"He's afraid we'll suddenly die in his class."

Cyril turned his head and carefully scanned the boy next to him. He didn't expect to meet other members of the World Truth Society so soon, and that Owen Garcia was another survivor besides himself.