Boundless Cultivation-Chapter 85 - Hidden Secrets

Inquisitor Dominus Thorne POV - Inside his office

Dominus had been busy scrutinizing an official investigation report when his personal aid - Raviel - knocked on the door.

“Enter,” he murmured without looking up.

Raviel appeared as unassuming as ever - head lined with greasy, brown hair, thin-framed spectacles, and modest clothes - as he stepped into the chamber. A deceptive appearance that enabled him to perfectly blend in a crowd.

And yet, those who knew the man would be on high alert in his presence.

Raviel bowed before placing a thin file on the desk. “I’ve prepared the preliminary report you ordered, my lord,” he stated calmly.

Dominus picked up the file without much ceremony and began scanning through it. A smile spread across his face as his eyes settled on the pictures of two people - Count Eustace de Vermond and his bastard child, Alaric.

The report didn’t include any details that weren't already public - it was an unofficial investigation, after all. At first glance, there wasn’t anything too suspicious in the report.

Only two major events stood out - the collaboration of the Church with the city guards along with the kids’ participation in an attempt to apprehend shapeshifters linked to a criminal organization.

And, the follow-up attack on Alaric by the fugitive for exacting revenge. The attack on The Sanctum of Radiance on the same day could be chalked up to coincidence.

Truthfully, there wasn’t anything that hinted at the involvement of the count or the kid in harming the Church or its properties.

However, Dominus had a knack for detecting hidden truths, and his intuition - sharpened by years of experience - signaled that there was much more to discover, concealed between the layers of mysteries.

Over six months ago, he had visited the count, aiming to rattle things up a little. There wasn’t much he could do without an official order from the Church headquarters, acknowledged by the Imperial court - questioning a noble was not straightforward.

But his visit bore fruit as he discovered many suspicious details. That kid - Alaric - wasn’t fazed by his presence at all. In fact, the kid’s ability to resist his bloodline aura greatly surprised him.

Granted, he wasn’t really trying to suppress Alaric, but even so, it was an extremely noteworthy feat for a kid at Tier 1. It hinted at a powerful spirit and training to resist subjugation - something common in heretics and lots related to witches.

But what confused him was that he had not detected any hint of malice in Alaric’s aura, only a determination to wrestle back control from the grip of his aura. He had never been in the presence of a heretic, witch, or their ally without detecting a hint of malice in them.

Regardless, it was too early to disregard this family as an ally of the witches. Alaric’s visit to the Sanctum that day, the subsequent attack, and his survival during the attack felt too convenient - too shrouded in mystery.

Alaric’s guard wasn’t powerful enough to handle so many beastmen. And yet, nobody could explain how they both survived since there wasn’t a single witness.

The blame for the attack on the city and the Sanctum was assigned to the werewolf shapeshifters. For a while, he didn’t completely disregard that report. However, as he dug deeper, he unearthed more complications.

Dominus had personally perceived the presence of powerful dao energy lingering inside the Sanctum and where Alaric had been attacked. His sixth sense warned him that there were witches at play here - although initially, he wasn’t sure why a powerful witch would rescue a bastard child.

There was no way that Captain Fernandes and his investigators hadn't sensed the same powerful dao energy. But, it wasn’t mentioned in the official report. That was when he knew something was fishy.

Further investigation - although unofficial - revealed that the Bishop was dirty. Drevon had been enterprising - running a side business with a cult that involved kidnapping children. And, just like that, one of the mysteries was solved.

The mention of dao and witches in an official report would have undoubtedly called for powers from the central - perhaps, even a high-inquisitor. And, that would’ve turned everything into a shitshow. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

Later, during a meeting, Dominus had casually hinted at his discoveries to Drevon. With every word he spoke, the bishop’s face turned paler and paler.

When the bishop couldn’t take it anymore, he turned hostile and did his best to remind Dominus that he was simply a guest in his city - an empty threat, a last attempt to persuade the inquisitor to let go of this matter.

Dominus chuckled. He was merely an inquisitor and didn’t possess the power to arrest somebody of Drevon’s status - a bishop. But that didn’t mean anything.

With a signature on an official report, he could call on the aid of a high-inquisitor, and Bishop Drevon's career and life would end for staining the reputation of the Church. Killing Dominus would attract the attention of a high-inquisitor as well.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

A person with no way out could turn extremely dangerous, rash, and unpredictable. So, Dominus had opted to offer him a way out - in return for cutting ties with the cult and disclosing the location of the cult leaders, he would disregard the bishop’s involvement in this matter.

Of course, the gifts he’d received, including the permission to wield the resources of the local branch of the Church to its fullest capacity as he deemed fit, were simple tokens of appreciation from the bishop of the city.

Aiding in the arrest of a bishop was tempting - it would certainly elevate his reputation, probably earn him a medal, and add a star to his name.

But it wouldn’t aid him in climbing the higher ranks of the career ladder - at least, not anytime soon. The high inquisitor would swoop in and claim all the credit for resolving the matter.

To accomplish his goal of becoming a high inquisitor, he would need the backing of other bishops and the ability to trade favors with countless influential individuals with deep pockets and positions of power.

Having a bishop indebted to him was much more valuable, and he resolved to play this card when the time was appropriate.

Besides, although having a hand in the arrest of a bishop would certainly enhance his reputation within the Church circle, it would ostracize him from high society - nobody wanted to associate with a man who couldn’t be tempted or blackmailed.

“Ahem…” Raviel cleared his throat, pulling Dominus out of his reverie. “Any further instructions, my lord?”

Dominus scrutinized Alaric's picture - especially his black hair and green eyes. “Maintain your surveillance on the count and his family - as discreetly as possible,” he instructed in a grave tone.

His message was clear - nobody, not church officials and not even the black flame hunters, should become aware of this operation. He alone was responsible for monitoring and gathering intelligence.

Drumming his fingers on the desk, he continued. “Prioritize stealth over discovery; there is no hurry. You are dismissed.”

“As you wish, my lord.” Raviel left the chamber.

Nobody liked Inquisitors - that was a fact. So when Dominus sensed an edge of unusual anxiety - although skillfully cloaked in anger - in the count’s aura during their first visit, he dismissed it.

But once he laid his eyes on his bastard child - Alaric - the puzzle pieces fell into place. Sure, a tiny fraction of people who possessed a combination of black hair and green eyes were of noble blood - not witches.

On its own, such a trait wouldn't have raised suspicion. However, when coupled with all the other mysterious occurrences - the involvement of potential witches, the count’s veiled anxiety, the kid’s bastard status - it hinted at darker truths.

What finally confirmed his suspicions was the kid’s bloodline resonance - it was stronger, purer than the count’s own. The kid’s mother was no mere commoner. Without a doubt, Alaric carried the blood of a powerful witch in his veins.

The assumption would explain the kid’s ability to resist subjugation by his bloodline aura. And also why a witch would seek to protect him.

I wonder what else you are hiding, Count Eustace. He released a grim sigh. How deep does this rabbit hole go? Dominus had always trusted his gut, and it told him to tread carefully.

He had personally eradicated dozens of witches - evil, vile things twisted by their desire for power. But a witch with a bloodline more potent than a count’s was a different matter.

He resolved to investigate the matter thoroughly before making any decision, lest he be embroiled in some political conspiracy.

After all, it wasn’t prudent to bite more than one could chew. And he could smell the presence of bigger fishes, biding their time before revealing their game.

***

Alaric arrived at the grand hall, facing the huge metallic doors - still parted and yet flooded with inky darkness that concealed the secrets within.

With a smile on his face, he casually strode toward it and crossed the threshold. Let’s see what’s on the other side.

He found himself in the cold grip of darkness where none of his senses seemed to work. Not his vision or even his skillful ability to map his surroundings with mana pulses.

The feeling was akin to long-distance teleportation - something that he had experienced countless times in his previous life.

After only a few seconds, the darkness transformed into a blinding white light, and he found himself in a small room. It was filled with rows of shelves packed with countless books.

Welcome to The Grey Terminal: Waiting Room (The Codex Vault)

Now, that’s unusual! Alaric had no idea what would greet him inside the final zone - nobody he knew did. But he certainly hadn’t expected to find himself inside a small library.

The books were preserved meticulously, a collection of thin paperbacks and thick leather-bound tomes.

He was itching to dive into the books and unearth whatever secrets lay buried in them. But before that, he scanned the room for any potential threats. So far, he came up empty.

His danger sense remained as calm as a still lake, indicating he wasn’t being observed nor the presence of hidden traps.

Glancing around, he detected a door at the far wall - likely an entryway to the next area. Against another wall stood a comfortable chair, a bed, and a desk equipped with appropriate accessories.

Just as he reached for a book titled “The Fall of Mankind,” a notification rang in his mind.

Note: You have been granted the privilege of accessing restricted information. Use this opportunity to expand your knowledge and prepare yourself for encounters in the next zone. You may visit the waiting room as many times as you wish.

Yeah, now we are talking. With this, it was confirmed that reading the books was necessary for tackling the next zone - probably. Perhaps it would mention different biome or monster types?

However, if the titles of the books were any indication, it felt more like a reservoir of ancient knowledge. Without further ado, he picked up the book and began flipping through its pages.

After a few minutes of inspection, he selected another book and then another when he was done skimming through its pages.

Conveniently, the textbooks were filled with high-quality illustrations of ancient monstrosities - towering buildings, giant machine-like structures, self-driven vehicles, and more - each in reference to a text that explained their name, form, and function.

Alaric was awed at the sheer scale and complexity of what he was learning. He quickly processed the information, thanks to his reforged brain, but still felt his mind overloaded with information.

There was much he wasn’t able to fully comprehend, aside from their names. It was all so foreign to him - so different.

Aside from textbooks and picture books, he also found a vast collection of storybooks. At first, he wasn’t sure why the system had included fiction in this small arsenal of knowledge.

However, as he read on, he sensed life within those stories. Alaric became convinced - somehow - that these story books were written by real people. The narratives were much easier to follow, digest, and remember compared to the dry, factual textbooks.

One story in particular fascinated him, hinting at the rise and fall of an advanced civilization - the birthplace of the system. How much of it was truth and how much was fiction, he had no way of discerning.

Could these books be genuine relics of an ancient civilization? Exhaling a long breath, he settled into the chair. This is going to take a while. No matter, I’m in no hurry. With a smile on his face, he continued reading.