Night had already settled fully over the city surrounding Crownspire Academy, yet the streets remained alive with movement and noise beneath the glow of mana lamps illuminating the wide roads and crowded marketplaces.

Merchants continued calling out to passing customers from their stalls while travelers moved through the streets carrying bags and supplies, the atmosphere bustling with the restless energy of a city that never truly slept.

Freshly cooked food filled the air with rich aromas as vendors loudly advertised their specialties.

"Hot skewers! Freshly grilled!"

"Mana-infused crystals from the eastern territories!"

"Last few left—buy now before midnight!"

Elsewhere, groups of people gathered outside taverns and cafes, speaking in lowered voices about recent events spreading across the continent.

"They say the breach in Velmora is still expanding..."

"No... I heard multiple noble houses already sent reinforcements..."

"Hah, if it keeps getting worse, prices are going to rise again..."

The city remained loud.

Alive and unaware.

And hidden away from all of that noise—

Inside a secluded alley untouched by the bustling atmosphere outside, a lone hooded figure stood silently beneath the shadows cast by the surrounding buildings. The darkness concealed nearly every identifiable feature, leaving only an indistinct silhouette visible beneath the cloak.

Several moments later, hurried footsteps echoed faintly through the alley before another hooded figure arrived quickly and immediately dropped to one knee before the standing figure.

The standing figure did not move.

Then a voice came from beneath its hood.

"What do you want?"

The kneeling man visibly hesitated before speaking carefully.

"I-I apologize for disturbing you at such a time, master..."

The standing figure remained motionless.

Then a tired, artificially modulated voice answered from beneath the hood.

"Speak what you came to say..."

A faint pause followed.

"...Otherwise get lost."

The kneeling man visibly trembled at the coldness within that voice before quickly reaching into his robes and pulling out a torn parchment from inside his bosom. With lowered head, he raised it respectfully toward the standing figure.

"This... this contains all the information you requested..."

The standing figure took the parchment silently.

The alley fell quiet once more as hidden eyes scanned over the contents carefully beneath the hood.

No reaction came immediately.

Not a word.

Not a movement.

Only silence lingered for a long while before the figure finally gave a small nod and tucked the parchment away within the cloak.

"Leave," the modulated voice said again. "If there is nothing else."

The kneeling man immediately stood up obediently and turned to leave, but just as he began stepping away, the hooded figure spoke once more.

"And..."

The man instantly froze.

"If there is any important news regarding the territory..."

The voice remained calm.

"...inform me immediately."

The kneeling figure bowed deeply once more.

"Yes, master."

Then he quickly disappeared back into the shadows of the city, leaving the standing figure alone within the dark alley once again.

***

Night had already settled deeply over the Valecrest Manor by the time Damon moved through its corridors once again, though unlike his usual composed pace, this time his steps carried unmistakable urgency.

The cold expression resting upon his face and the sharp furrow between his brows caused every servant who crossed his path to instinctively lower their heads and step aside immediately, not daring to slow him even for a moment.

The atmosphere around him felt heavy.

Dangerously so.

I was just using spies as an excuse...but it seems there really are some spies in the territory.

But why is only ’that’ page torn from the archives?

Damon continued forward without pause until his steps finally came to a halt before the head butler, who had been overseeing several attendants nearby. The old man immediately noticed the expression on Damon’s face, and something within his own demeanor subtly tightened in response.

After dismissing the surrounding servants with a quick gesture, the head butler looked carefully at Damon before asking in a quieter voice,

"Did you find what you needed, young master...?"

Damon did not waste time answering indirectly.

"Who knows about the location of the archive," he asked coldly, "and who has entered it before?"

The sudden sharpness in Damon’s tone caused the head butler’s expression to stiffen instantly. The old man’s back straightened almost unconsciously as he immediately understood that something had gone wrong.

"What happened, young master?" he asked seriously.

Damon’s gaze darkened slightly.

"There is a torn page inside the archives."

For a moment—

The head butler looked genuinely stunned.

"H-how is that possible...?" he muttered, disbelief immediately appearing across his face. "N-nobody is permitted to remove anything from the archives..."

Damon’s eyes narrowed further.

"Are you certain about that?"

The head butler looked both confused and alarmed now, clearly trying to understand the implications himself.

"T-there are cases where dismissed or executed workers have had their records removed under master’s orders..." he explained cautiously. "I-it may have been someone punished and erased from service history..."

But Damon immediately shook his head.

"That explanation makes no sense."

His voice remained calm.

Too calm.

"The Duke of a territory would not personally resort to tearing out pages simply because someone angered him," Damon said evenly. "If father wanted a servant erased, the record itself would have been rewritten properly, not crudely removed."

The head butler visibly stiffened further as Damon continued.

"I checked every archive ledger personally," Damon said. "There are no other torn pages anywhere."

A faint pause followed.

Then Damon’s gaze sharpened completely.

"And the only missing record..."

His voice lowered.

"...belongs to the maid assigned to me."

The meaning behind those words struck instantly.

The head butler’s eyes widened visibly before he immediately dropped to one knee before Damon without hesitation.

"Forgive me for failing in my duties, young master!" he said at once, genuine alarm clear within his voice.

Damon looked down silently at the kneeling head butler, his cold gaze remaining fixed upon the old man while countless thoughts rapidly connected within his mind one after another.

The deeper he thought about the matter, the more unnatural everything became, because ,

If Sahira’s page truly was the only missing record within the entirety of the archives, then this could no longer be dismissed as some old administrative cleanup or forgotten punishment carried out years ago.

No.

That explanation no longer fit.

The archives beneath the Valecrest Manor were not some ordinary storage room where servants casually misplaced records or where pages disappeared without reason.

Every document there represented generations of control, authority, and surveillance maintained by one of the strongest duchies on the continent, meaning that a single torn page carried far more significance than it appeared to on the surface.

And the fact that the missing page belonged specifically to the maid assigned directly to me—

Could no longer be treated as coincidence.

Damon’s eyes narrowed slightly as the realization settled more firmly within him.

If someone had deliberately erased Sahira’s background while leaving every other record untouched, then the target of that action was not merely Sahira herself.

It is me.

Someone wants access to my surroundings.

Someone wants a blind spot near me.

And Damon had absolutely no intention of allowing such a thing to continue unchecked.

The atmosphere around him gradually turned colder as those thoughts passed through his mind, until finally he spoke once more, his voice calm enough to send a deeper chill through the corridor than shouting ever could.

"I want every single worker within this estate gathered inside the main hall within the next half hour," he said slowly, each word carrying unmistakable authority. "Every maid, every attendant, every guard, every servant who possesses even the slightest access to this manor is to be present there without exception."

The head butler instinctively straightened slightly despite still kneeling on the floor, clearly startled by the sudden severity of the order, but before he could respond, Damon continued speaking without pause.

"And if even one person fails to appear..."

For a brief moment, the corridor itself seemed to fall completely silent.

The servants passing through distant hallways had long disappeared, the faint sounds of the manor itself fading into the background beneath the sheer pressure carried within Damon’s gaze.

"...then that person will be sentenced to death."

The words did not sound emotional nor angry.

That was precisely what made them heavier.

Damon spoke them with the same composure someone might use while discussing routine household matters, as though the decision itself had already been made the moment suspicion arose.

Then, without waiting for agreement, acknowledgment, or even a response from the head butler, Damon turned away immediately and began walking down the corridor once more with the same urgent pace he had arrived with earlier, his long coat shifting behind him while his expression remained completely unreadable.

Behind him, the head butler remained kneeling motionlessly for several long moments, cold sweat gradually forming across his forehead as the full weight of Damon’s words finally settled upon him.

***

"What is going on here, Damon?"

"Just cleaning up your house for you....Father!"