"Standing on the streets of Rongma, Casaman looked at the newspaper in his hand which reported on Prince Malin Gaiate’s great success in the recent defense of Carterburg. He had decapitated about fourteen thousand enemies, annihilating a clan of Outer Domain Rat-men who had breached Carterburg, with barely any losses to his own forces.
’Our Prince is truly amazing,’ said the middle-aged man at the newsstand, murmuring to each customer as he sold them a paper.
’Yes, your Prince Malin is very formidable. I knew that ever since he was a young child.’
Casaman folded the newspaper and pulled out his wallet to pay a nickel, taking a can of soda from the hands of the newsstand owner—it was a canned beverage recently launched by the Carterburg-based Malin Corporation. Although a can cost five cents, it was indeed very tasty, and Casaman could even detect a hint of Holy Water amongst its ingredients.
The quantity was minute; even true Cultists wouldn’t be ignited by the divine power, let alone someone like Casaman who was only a Cultist on the surface.
Pulling off the cap, Casaman took a sip and then looked towards the gold transport vehicle approaching from a distance.
These were bars of gold transported by Carterburg-Rongma’s special train, said to be part of Prince Malin Gaiate’s treasury, allocated for the expansion of Rongma city.
’Our Prince really loves his wife,’ remarked a passerby behind him.
Casaman stepped back three paces—the transport was escorted by several Legendary figures, and Casaman, with his questionable background, wouldn’t pass a detailed check despite having identification. To avoid distress for both parties, Casaman naturally didn’t want to cause any trouble.
Once the gold transport passed, Casaman noted the speed of the carriage; it didn’t seem to be carrying a full load, as it moved quite swiftly.
However, Casaman didn’t want to court trouble, retreating into an alley to hand the newspaper to a fellow Church member covering for him. Entering the building through a back door provided for him, Casaman entered the small building where his Sect Hierarch awaited in the living room, surrounded by more than a dozen officers with faces ashen—since the Sacred Object was lost months ago, too many officers had been punished for failing to locate it.
After leaving Carterburg the last time, Casaman had headed north with the assistance of the Church of Justice and managed to extract their Sect Hierarch from their encirclement.
The old man was completely befuddled—if Casaman were really the traitor he suspected, it would be impossible for him to enter the encirclement and then rescue him.
Yet that’s precisely what he did, leading him through the sewers, and then out of the maze-like confines.
Thus, Casaman was reused by the Hierarch who didn’t involve him in the search for the sacred object—three officers had already been lost in the effort. Although Diviners had confirmed the item’s location and it was recovered, it had been desecrated, so in a fit of rage, the Hierarch decided to find the thief who took it, intending to cleanse the filth on the relic with his blood.
It was said to be a thief proficient in Illusion Technique; Casaman had no real means of dealing with him—in fact, the entire sect had no good solution, as the damned thief could just stand in a crowd, making it impossible for them to find their target.
Then Casaman saw the Sect Hierarch tremble as he reached up and removed his small round spectacles from his nose: ’Casaman, Wargen, Hym, Bordal, you four stay. The rest, leave through the back door.’
The officers, whose names were not called, seemed relieved as they exited the hall.
’A week has gone by! We haven’t found anything! What exactly are you main officers doing? Bordal! You first!’ the Hierarch stared at the Half-human sitting at the table with an expression of manic rage.
’Your Excellency! We have been working very hard. In that last safehouse operation, we exchanged fire with Farole’s security team, the target’s illusion appeared there. Although it quickly failed after being hit, we have sketched his likely appearance. We just need to search carefully in Rongma, and we will find him one day,’ the Half-human hurriedly finished speaking, looking up at the Hierarch: ’We need time, Your Excellency.’
’But time is exactly what we’re lacking! The tide of magic is rising; tell me! Hym! With our Sacred Object desecrated and us rendered idle, how do we fix this?’ the Hierarch turned his gaze to the Dwarf in front of him.
The latter glanced at everyone present before looking back at the Hierarch: ’Your Excellency, I think we can steal some toddlers! Use their blood as a sacrifice, isn’t that what we always did? So, you see, if we went about it that way, would that be fine?’
’Are you an idiot? We were commanded by the oracle to do that! If he finds out we’re switching things up, just imagine how our great High God will kill us!’ the Hierarch roared in anger, grabbing a pie from the table and hurling it at the Dwarf’s face: ’Get out! If you want to die, don’t drag us down with you!’
After finishing his outburst, the Hierarch turned to Wargen after a while: ’Wargen, tell us, do you have any brilliant ideas inside that head of yours?’
’We have discussed before, this thief couldn’t be a native of Rongma, so we have been looking for the city’s rental agents. Under the guise of renting, we’re confirming if any outsiders have rented houses from them recently. In the past two months, I’ve noted down roughly seventy households. I also learned some information: two streets in the new district of Rongma have been completed, and many houses were sold to people from out of town, so now there are about one hundred and forty families we need to screen.’"