Magician in Type-Moon

Page 675

However, "I'm sorry," Inola resolutely refused, drawing a clear line.

“If I were to get involved to that extent, even I would be considered to be ‘blurring the lines between public and private matters.’ My role this time is simply to ensure that you don’t act recklessly and to act as a witness to ‘monitor’ the investigation process, nothing more.”

Despite her straightforward tone and attitude, Inola's decisive way of drawing lines is befitting of a mature 'monarch'. Alas, otherwise, she wouldn't be able to maintain her position as the leader of such a major faction as the Creation Department.

This is a completely different style from that of Lord El-Melloi, who was always embroiled in trouble and had to run around cleaning up messes.

Just as the conversation in the room seemed to have reached a temporary stalemate—

"...When exactly did it start?"

A low murmur, filled with confusion and contemplation, suddenly rang out from behind.

It was Arcueid. She seemed to be listening quietly, but her attention was clearly focused in another direction.

"What did you mean?" Matou Ike turned his head to look at her.

The blonde True Ancestor girl tilted her head slightly, her amber eyes sparkling with pure curiosity and confusion as she struggled to find the words to express herself:

“…Ah, no, I mean the Golden Princess…her face…” She gestured, “Of course, she might have been a beauty from a young age…but for ordinary humans, appearance, bone structure, and temperament should all undergo significant changes during growth…”

Her question was simple and direct, yet it was like an invisible key, gently tapping on a question that had been overlooked by everyone, but might be of paramount importance—

Is the Golden Princess's "ultimate beauty" the result of natural growth, or... the product of some kind of continuous "refinement" and "adjustment" that began much earlier?

Was her beauty, her very existence, planned and shaped long ago?

This seemingly naive question subtly points to a deeper secret and cost that may be hidden within the "Beauty Alchemy" technique of the Izeruma family.

Arcueid's seemingly naive question about "when does beauty begin to take shape" inexplicably tugs at Matou Ike's heartstrings.

This unintentional question, like a wedge, drove into a deeper doubt that was hidden beneath the glamorous facade and the harsh reality.

He paused for a moment, seemingly digesting the complex possibilities that might lie behind this seemingly simple question.

Immediately, a superhuman power began to surge within the depths of his eyes. The demonic eyes within his sockets began to undergo subtle and precise changes, the patterns in the pupils adjusting their focus and perception modes like a precision instrument.

The vision of the future is activated, and it begins to observe every tiny corner of the room, every trace of magic, and every possible overlooked mark from a perspective beyond that of ordinary people.

His gaze, like an invisible probe, swept over the blood-soaked bed, the ornate furniture, the empty dressing table…

Finally, his gaze lingered on the corner of the damaged door—scattered with fragments of wood cracked from when he kicked it and a few loose pieces of stone flooring.

There seemed to be some extremely faint, discordant residual sensation there.

Matou Ike walked forward calmly and squatted down. He stretched out his finger and rubbed it very lightly between the wood fragments and the stone floor. He felt an unusual sensation at his fingertips.

Something was stuck to his finger.

It is extremely rare, almost imperceptible to the naked eye, and only has a subtle granular texture.

He raised his finger, brought it close to his eyes, and examined it carefully with the help of the superhuman vision of the magic eye.

This is... powder? No, it's lighter and finer... is it ash...? An extremely fine ash with a special texture.

What caught his attention even more was that when his magic eye continued to focus on this tiny thing, his eyeballs experienced a subtle yet distinct stinging sensation.

...This means that this thing 'inherently possesses some kind of magic', right?

An unusual, slightly different magical tone from the Izeruma Workshop he was familiar with lingered.

Considering this is a magician's residence, it's not surprising that it's covered in magical dust, but its presence in this location, along with the peculiar stinging sensation, makes it seem particularly out of place.

“…Matou?” Arcueid keenly noticed his subtle pause and focus.

"What's wrong?" Inole asked, her wine glass pausing slightly.

Matou Ike instantly regained his composure, as if he had merely squatted down to tie his shoelaces. He calmly stood up and replied indifferently:

"...It's nothing. Just a few crumbs."