Chapter 13: Sorry, Officer, I Didn’t Recognize You Just Now

After Odmeyer’s words, the others in the command room also left one after another. Odmeyer then led Roland and Kalia through a hidden door. Once the three entered the secret chamber, the door closed behind them, and the room beyond was illuminated.

Odmeyer took a seat behind the desk and gestured for Roland and Kalia to sit opposite him. After they settled, he began the introduction: “This is a secret chamber I prepared for discussing important matters. It is equipped with multiple layers of soundproof barriers and isolation runes. Neither sound nor communication magic functions here. Of course, magical messages from outside to this room remain effective. It’s a one-way filter—messages can enter but not leave—so rest assured, no one outside will know what transpires here.”

“Now, Mr. Roland, can you tell me the origins of the Putrid Madonna?”

Odmeyer fixed his attention on Roland. “I thought the answer to such a question could only be found among those odd scholars at the Continental Historical Society. I hadn’t expected an unexpected lead.”

“Colonel, before answering your question, I have one of my own,” Roland interjected.

“Where did you hear that name?”

“A week ago, the warehouse at the docks was sealed off, and all ships entering or leaving the port had to undergo inspection; otherwise, they were barred from entering Riscane City. I’m sure you know about this.”

Roland nodded. Few in Riscane were unaware of that event, though the city guard had not publicly disclosed details, and even those in the know were under strict orders of silence.

“That name came from that incident.”

Odmeyer then proceeded to outline the general circumstances of the event to Roland and Kalia.

After understanding where Odmeyer had obtained the name, Roland nodded and spoke: “The Putrid Madonna is an evil deity who perished during the Demon King War. This information comes from a mural at a demon stronghold, discovered by my father during a commission many years ago.”

“I found this in his diary while sorting through his belongings. I originally thought it was just an insignificant historical curiosity, but it turned out to earn me a substantial reward.”

As he spoke, Roland took out Lancelot’s diary and placed it on the desk.

Odmeyer didn’t glance at it but said, “Mr. Lancelot was an exceptional and reputable adventurer. I trust his records and the child he raised.”

“Your commission is complete. You may collect your payment from my adjutant after this meeting.”

“Now, let’s talk about something else. The enemies you encountered yesterday—do you know their origins? And this young witch, what is her purpose here?”

Realizing the topic had shifted to her, Kalia grew nervous, instinctively lowering her gaze to her knees and clutching her skirt tightly.

Roland didn’t answer immediately but patted Kalia’s shoulder. “You should speak, since they were targeting you.”

“Don’t worry. Colonel Odmeyer may not seem like a good man, but in reality, he is a dutiful, honest, and trustworthy soldier.”

Odmeyer felt slightly uncomfortable hearing Roland’s praise. Was it really necessary to add the first half of the sentence? Wouldn’t it have been better to just say the latter part?

Kalia turned her head toward Roland, seemingly seeking encouragement from his eyes. Gazing into Roland’s lake-green eyes, she felt her anxiety ease somewhat. After several deep breaths, she began recounting her journey.

“That’s how it happened. If I hadn’t just happened to meet Roland, I’d probably still be on the run from those assassins.”

Odmeyer was silent for a moment, then asked, “Who is your teacher?”

“Huh?” Kalia was taken aback. After telling such a long story, his main concern was the identity of her teacher?

Shouldn’t he be more curious about why she was being hunted or about the assassins themselves? Surely the pursuers and the black-clad man who committed suicide in the warehouse must be connected!

But after a brief moment of surprise, Kalia shared what she knew about her teacher.

“I don’t know much about her. She rarely talks about herself.”

“What I do know is that she fought alongside the hero in the campaign to overthrow the Demon King and bring down the Demon King’s fortress.”

“Oh, she’s an elf named Fu—”

Hearing this, Roland instinctively interrupted, “Freliane?”

“No, it’s Furam!”

“Oh.”

Roland clicked his tongue quietly and resumed his role as a silent observer.

Kalia, as if worried Odmeyer wouldn’t believe her, took a necklace hanging around her neck from inside her collar. The pendant resembled a staff.

“My teacher said this proves her identity!”

Odmeyer was speechless. Actually, when she first mentioned the name, he had already wanted her to stop.

Furam: an elven legendary-rank mage, currently the chief advisory professor at the Royal Capital Magic Academy’s Spell Department.

The title might sound ordinary, but this venerable figure has held it for over three centuries.

Since the Demon King War ended, she has served at the academy.

Though she rarely appears on campus, no one doubts her authority.

Without her presence, the empire could never have completed the rune engraving of spells nor fully grasped the magic technology acquired from the Demon King’s forces.

What Kalia held in her hand was actually the official credential of a Spell Department professor. By sensing its magic, one could read the recorded identity information.

Odmeyer sighed in resignation.

To others, the position of Spell Department professor might be lofty, but to this legendary mage, it seemed trivial.

Well, it made sense—this was a veteran who had fought in the Demon King War and personally participated in the Demon King’s defeat. A mere advisor was indeed insignificant.

“I believe your story. This is indeed the credential of a Spell Department professor at the Royal Capital Magic Academy.”

“As an exchange of intelligence, I will share what I have learned.”

Odmeyer had already confirmed their identities were trustworthy. Roland was beyond question—his passage through the academy’s entrance exams included identity verification, so he was obviously no mad cultist worshipping an evil deity.

As for Kalia, her background was solid. Although it was unclear why Lady Furam had not come personally to retrieve the pendant, it was likely the elder had other purposes.

With this in mind, Odmeyer’s expression grew serious as he began, “We have already detected the faction to which those black-clad men belong.”

“Combined with the information Mr. Roland provided about the Putrid Madonna, we can be fairly certain these people are not mere cultists.”

“No one would worship a dead god.”

“Ruling out those mad cultists, the only remaining group is another bunch of lunatics—the Chaos Brotherhood.”