As soon as they returned from their walk to the village, Arata entered the kitchen and placed the heavy seasoning packages on top of the wooden table, letting out a sigh of relief at the end of the physical effort.
Without wasting any time, he turned around and began walking through the mansion's silent corridors.
His mind was still completely focused on the disturbing image he had seen in the forest.
He needed answers.
Determined, he stopped in front of a familiar door and slowly pushed it open, entering the colossal Library of Knowledge.
Lia was sitting on the exact same wooden stool as before, with a heavy tome resting on her lap. Upon noticing his approach, she raised her aqua-green eyes.
"You again?" she grumbled, closing the book. "What do you want here, you insolent brat?"
"Hey, Lia... I have a few questions for you," Arata said, adopting a surprisingly serious tone, quite different from his usual antics.
Lia turned her face away, tapping the tips of her fingers against the cover of the book.
"And what if I don't want to answer? Just leave me alone, I would say."
Before ignoring him again, she looked at him for a fraction of a second.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Arata, always attentive, caught a melancholic and heavy glimmer deep within the little girl's green eyes.
But... what was that look? he questioned himself, feeling a pang of curiosity.
Putting the thought aside for the moment, he took a step forward.
"Since you're a four-hundred-year-old spirit who lives right here in the Library of Knowledge, you must know a lot of things. By any chance... do you know anyone who wears a crow mask and completely black clothing?"
Lia froze.
Her small hands tensed over the ancient tome.
She let out a deep, heavy sigh, her shoulders drooping slightly.
"Okay, annoying brat. I'll answer your questions, I would say," she conceded, her voice sounding slightly deeper. "But what do you mean by that? By any chance... you didn't see anyone with those characteristics, did you?"
Arata swallowed hard, feeling the atmosphere change.
"Why are you talking in such a tense way, exactly?"
"Because the only individual I know who follows that pattern of clothing is someone extremely dangerous, someone who conducts gruesome experiments on people.
"Someone you should not get involved with under any circumstances... Not that I actually care about your fate, I would say."
Arata swallowed hard once again, but decided to lie so he wouldn't raise suspicions or cause panic.
"No, I've never seen anyone like that... I just... read about something similar. Could you please tell me more?"
"If you really value your own well-being, I would say it would be better for you to forget about this matter and not get involved with them, I would say," Lia cut him off curtly, staring directly into his eyes. "But if you're so determined to walk straight toward your death, that's entirely your problem, I would say."
Them...? Arata repeated mentally, catching the plural in her words.
Who could "they" be? The Cult of One? Or some other faction I don't know about yet?
He realized that instead of getting clear answers, that brief conversation had only thrown even more mysteries and questions into his head.
"Now, get out of here," Lia ordered, reopening the book and pretending to focus on her reading.
"Alright, then. Thanks a lot for the information, cutie!" Arata thanked her, trying to recover his carefree tone.
He turned around and left the library, his mind buzzing with new and dangerous questions.
He walked slowly through the polished corridors until he entered his room. Arata closed the door and sat down on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees.
The butterfly effect changed things, but the main attack should still follow the same pattern, he reasoned, narrowing his eyes in the dimness of the room.
I'm going to patiently wait until the early hours between the fifth and sixth day.
And when that early morning arrives, I'll be completely prepared to deal with whoever shows up.
Whether it's the ice assassin, or whoever it may be...
He clenched his fists tightly, his gaze fixed on the wooden floor.
I can't die anymore. I won't let it happen.
Sitting there alone in the shadows, a wave of confidence mixed with pure caution washed over Arata.
He finally had a plan.
End of Chapter 28...
To be continued in Chapter 29...