"Minister Martin," he said.
Arnold had told him about him, so he assumed he had a good relationship with him; precisely because of that, he was difficult to deal with him.
Martin smiled gently. "Ninth Prince, I’m glad to see you well," he said.
He looked haggard as he spoke, as if he was not having a good time.
’Right, they wanted to blame him for the assassination attempt,’ he thought.
He would have to clarify this later; for now, he allowed him to enter.
"I must thank you for your kindness that day. If it weren’t for your quick actions, I would surely have died," he said, letting him sit at the table.
"As long as you don’t blame me for trying to kill you, I’m grateful. It would be terrible if the person I saved told me I was his murderer," he said, laughing with clear self-mockery.
"Don’t worry, Minister Martin. I’ll talk to my father later to clarify the situation."
"Clear it up without finding the culprit?" he asked.
"The culprit has already been found."
Martin’s eyes widened. "Really? Who—?" As he prepared to ask who it was, he shook his head. "No, nothing. I’m glad the culprit has been found and that you’re okay." He smiled. Somehow, just from Ryan’s words, he felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders.
Only he knew how much he had been mortified these days, simply because they wanted to blame him for a crime he did not commit. Now that everything would be cleared up, he felt much more relaxed, but his heart was still tense.
"I received a message from Arnold before he died, Ninth Prince," he said.
Ryan looked at him in shock.
His mind quickly traveled back over 100 years, and then he remembered something. Some organizations bind their spirituality to a small "Soul Stone" to protect their members or at least know when they die.
Through it, they can hear their last words and sometimes even know their location.
That’s when he understood.
Arnold was part of Martin’s organization, which he knew nothing about. In the novel, Martin was just a background character, not even an extra.
He appeared maybe once or twice. Once, when he ran into Brandon in the hallways, and the second time when he was dead.
Seeing Ryan’s silence, Martin spoke again.
"He died at the hands of the Third Prince, right?" he asked.
Ryan didn’t answer. He neither confirmed nor denied anything; he just stared at him.
"Arnold was a good member who constantly cared for his allies. He was invaluable to the organization for his consistently positive energy and powerful alchemy. Old Roy was truly affected by his death."
Martin seemed just to want someone to talk to, because he started telling him things he had no idea about. But Ryan listened attentively.
Martin quickly realized his mistake and apologized. "I’m sorry about that," he said quickly, then took something out of his inventory and placed it on the table.
"Ninth Prince, we are not as powerful as organizations with demigods. Nor do we have a status on par with any university. We don’t even have much support in the Castle. But we are an organization that knows how to offer friendship and camaraderie."
"We may not be the strongest, but we are not treacherous, and the support we would give you would be greater than what you would get from people who despise you. If you are interested, you can see us at that address. I will only say that we are not weak and have more tricks up our sleeves than you can imagine," he said.
He had placed a letter of invitation on the table, with an address and little else.
After that, he got up. "I hope to see you soon. If you can speak for me, I would be grateful." With that, he left.
Ryan knew he was here because he wanted to find out who killed Arnold. It was his silence that forced him to leave without achieving his goal. But there was nothing he could do.
’Telling you that will only get you killed,’ he thought, hoping Martin would understand.
Some people are so loyal to their friends and colleagues that they would give their lives for a foolish cause, such as revenge against someone much more powerful than themselves. He didn’t know if this man was one of them, so it was better to remain silent.
Ryan stared at the name of the organization.
Mirror of the Fallen Tree.
He grabbed the invitation letter to look at it.
’It is said that many of these organizations were founded in bygone eras and often bear a name with hidden meaning, perhaps some powerful treasure that belongs to them,’ he thought. ’I wonder if this organization has anything to do with that legendary mirror.’
Ryan put the invitation away. He had to consider it because joining an organization isn’t always good.
’And I also have to start classes again in a few days,’ he thought, remembering that Ryan was in his last year of college.
The rest of the day was quiet, and the next morning his father called him again to appear before him. There wasn’t much. Some empty congratulations from his father for becoming a Walker, questions about his path (which he answered vaguely and didn’t give much information), and little else.
He took the opportunity to mention what had happened and tell him that Martin wasn’t to blame.
At some point during the meeting, Albert appeared. He told his father a few home truths and then took Ryan aside to say goodbye.
That day passed quickly, and soon five days had gone by.
Ryan took these days to gather his thoughts and prepare for classes to begin.