Chapter 646 – Red Quills.

‘Wait, this is the same as that time.’’

Roland watched as Brakka’s body began to twitch, releasing purplish black smoke from her mouth. It was disturbingly similar to an encounter he had once endured with a group of assassins in Isgard. In that moment, their leader had activated an occult spell that turned the entire group into sludge. The same thing was happening here.

“What is happening to her?”

Captain Varek shouted. Everyone jumped back in fright as the smoke thickened and spread.

“Be careful, it is powerful black magic!”

Harphon cried. He raised his staff and hurriedly muttered a spell, trying to form a barrier around himself and the others. One person, however, did not retreat. Unafraid, Roland stepped toward the melting body.

“Siegfried? What are you doing? Get back!”

The gnome shouted at him as Brakka’s face began to melt, but he did not listen. Instead, he stretched his hand out, and a veil of flickering mana spread over her body. Everyone watched with a mixture of fright, confusion, and wonder as the smoke quickly dissipated. The reaction slowed, and after her head melted down to her neck, it finally subsided.

“It’s fine. I’ve seen this magic before.”

He said it to assure the others that he knew what he was dealing with, and it was not a lie. What Brakka was experiencing was almost identical to what had happened to the assassins who had targeted Arthur in the noble district. That time, their bodies had melted completely and were left unrecognisable, but now he had managed to stop the process before the magic fully took hold.

‘Good thing I took those bodies back and analyzed them. The counter spell formula worked, but is she also part of the cult?’

Roland was not sure what he was dealing with. Back then, he had assumed cultists targeted Arthur, and after everything that had happened, there was little reason to doubt it. The cult liked to implant their occult worms into people, creatures that could turn them into monsters and possibly take over their minds. However, was this truly the work of cultists, or was another organisation involved?

‘I wonder. Usually, these people have some kind of markings.’

As he stood over the headless body that had not fully liquefied, he thought it over. There were many ways to take one’s life, poison capsules, a dagger to the heart, or even biting off one’s tongue. Why, then, would they go so far as to destroy their bodies completely? Were they trying to hide something that required total destruction?

This line of thinking led him to assume they were part of the cult. If someone wanted to hide the existence of a parasite within their body, destroying it through such magic would make sense. Yet there was another possibility. Perhaps they were trying to conceal something else, and that something might still be on Brakka’s body.

“You’ve seen this magic before, Siegfried? Do you perhaps know who this woman is?”

Harphon asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“No, but perhaps there is something on her or inside that could tell us.”

He replied while ensuring that his hidden golems overhead remained concealed and continued feeding him information. One assassin had already been revealed, but there could be more. Some might still be among the guests, while others could be watching from afar, waiting to strike if the plan to awaken the slumbering tree monster failed.

“Inside? Are you planning to cut her open or something?”

This time, it was Varek who posed the question. The other adventurers said little, all of them visibly confused. Yet their eyes told him everything. They were tense and ready to strike at any moment, clearly debating whether they should abandon this place altogether now that trust within the party had been broken.

“What does it matter if he cuts her open? We are probably only alive thanks to him.”

“Yeah, Varek. Why don’t you tell us why you let us rest here if you knew this thing could awaken?”

Some were still angered by the fact that Varek had known about the tree monster and had said nothing. To them, that alone made him suspicious.

“Well, that’s…”

As Varek struggled to explain himself, Roland focused on the body before him. Harphon stood nearby, watching with clear interest. He did not try to stop Roland, but whether he was friend or foe had yet to be confirmed. The blacksmith Roland wanted to protect was still alive, and the likelihood of him being the target was growing smaller. Someone else here was probably the true objective, but first, Roland needed to confirm the identity of this would-be assassin.

“I didn’t let anything happen.”

The captain snapped, turning on the adventurers crowding him.

“The guild verified this, clearing themselves. I followed protocol. If someone tampered with the site, that’s not on me.”

“Protocol doesn’t mean much when one of us is dead.”

A spearwoman shot back.

“And when that one turns out to be an assassin?”

“That’s not proven. All we know is she triggered something and then…”

He gestured sharply toward the half-melted corpse.

“…that happened.”

Roland tuned most of it out. He knelt beside the body, the scent of dissipating black magic still lingering in the air. Brakka’s torso remained intact from the neck down, muscles frozen mid-spasm, skin gray and waxy where the reaction had been halted. Whatever spell had been embedded in her had been designed to leave nothing behind.

“Harphon.”

Roland said quietly.

“Help me check her gear. Slowly.”

The gnome nodded and was already crouching on the other side, reaching for the satchel strapped to her waist. While Roland did not fully trust the old man, the best way to confirm his intentions was to keep him close. If he sensed any trace of black magic, or something being hidden, stolen, or erased, he would know that Harphon was only here to destroy evidence.

“I didn’t know her for long. She joined me on my journey and was so genuine. Who could have thought she was an assassin?”

The two of them seemed to know each other from somewhere, as they had approached him at the gathering of their own accord. Logically speaking, the gnome was one of the biggest suspects here, but assassins were known for their acting skills. It was possible she had approached him beforehand as a cover, or perhaps for some other reason entirely.

Brakka’s so-called armor was quite light and left much of her body exposed. This was not unusual, as barbarian classes possessed passives that only activated when they wore lighter armor and kept parts of their body uncovered. That begged the question of where something could be hidden on someone who willingly exposed herself to harm.

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‘Even her knees are bare, so the most likely places would be…’

Roland gripped one of her boots and began tugging, but it refused to come off easily. After unfastening several leather clasps and wraps, he revealed her leg. There was nothing out of the ordinary there. When he moved on to the left one, however, his efforts were rewarded.

“Hold on…”

“Did you find something?”

The gnome asked as Roland muttered to himself.

“I think so…”

To the naked eye, there was nothing there, but Roland was highly sensitive to magic and knew something was wrong. He adjusted a few of his runes while maintaining his rune concealment skill, and within half a minute, he activated a spell that shed light on the woman’s true identity. Just below the ankle, hidden behind a spell and deliberately positioned where armor or cloth would normally cover it, was a tattoo.

“Oh… that’s not good.”

Harphon leaned closer, his voice filled with concern. The tattoo was delicate, almost elegant, completely at odds with Brakka’s brutish persona. A single long quill pen was inked into her skin, its feather dyed blood red at the tip. Thin lines of silver gray ink spiraled tightly around the shaft, forming letters so fine they were nearly invisible unless viewed up close.