Dark Moon Fourth Arc (Thorns of The Black Throne) - 507. Trust IV
Fourth Arc (Thorns of The Black Throne) - 507. Trust IV
Angel finally looked up from the report in his hand. “Would you prefer I brought the castle with me too?”
Allan immediately coughed awkwardly. “No, Your Majesty.”
Cley snorted under his breath.
Angel leaned back slightly in the chair and flipped through the first report while speaking calmly. “How’s the court?”
Cley moved toward the side table and began preparing tea automatically.
“Nothing catastrophic,” he answered. “Mostly usual noble complaints.”
“That narrows nothing.”
“Lord Varell still wants raise harbor taxes.”
Angel nodded absently while reading.
“Denied.”
“He’ll complain.”
“He always complains.”
Cley shrugged. “True.”
Chancellor Allan stepped forward and handed over another stack.
“The western grain reports,” he explained. “Harvest projections improved after the irrigation reforms.”
Angel skimmed quickly.
“Good.”
“The border situation with Zephyrus remnants also stabilized.”
Angel’s gaze sharpened slightly at that.
“Stabilized how?”
“Less movement. Fewer rebels sightings.”
Angel tapped the desk lightly once.
“Continue surveillance anyway.”
“Already done.”
Angel nodded faintly in approval.
Cley set down fresh tea beside him.
“You’re really just going to casually work after ripping through space itself?”
“I’m efficient.”
“You’re insane.”
“Both can coexist.”
Allan quietly pretended not to hear that part.
Angel opened another report while the crystal inside him slowly settled from the teleportation strain.
Still too much usage in one morning.
Pontus. Internal teleportation. Return jump.
Rose was right.
He needed to reduce unnecessary movement before the crystal reacted unpredictably again.
His fingers brushed briefly against the pouch hidden beneath his cloak.
The tonic.
That was the priority.
A knock sounded against the study door.
Cley opened it partially.
An older man entered carrying a leather case filled with glass tools and small silver instruments.
Master Edwin.
Royal alchemist.
Sharp eyes. Thin gray hair. Permanent exhaustion.
He stopped immediately upon seeing Angel.
“Your Majesty.”
Angel gestured toward the desk.
“I need immediate analysis.”
Edwin noticed the seriousness instantly.
No questions.
Good.
Angel removed the waxed pouch and placed it carefully on the desk.
The faint herbal scent spread immediately into the room.
Edwin’s expression shifted. “That,” he muttered quietly, “does not smell medicinal.”
Angel leaned back in the chair.
“It’s not.”
The alchemist slowly untied the pouch.
Inside rested the stained cloth and preserved residue from the tonic.
Edwin’s brows furrowed deeper.
“What exactly am I looking for?”
Angel’s eyes darkened slightly. “Mind manipulation tonic.”
The room fell silent.
Even Cley stopped moving.
Edwin looked back down at the sample slowly.
“…Ah.”
Not disbelief.
Recognition.
That alone made Angel’s expression sharpen.
“You know the type?”
Edwin nodded grimly. “There are old compounds that blur cognitive resistance,” he murmured. “Usually mixed with emotional influence magic.”
Angel’s fingers tapped once against the desk.
“Can you identify it?”
Edwin inhaled slowly.
“I can try.”
Angel’s gaze hardened slightly.
“No.”
The room stilled.
“You will.”
Master Edwin swallowed once.
Not from fear exactly.
From understanding.
Because Angel almost never spoke like that unless something genuinely dangerous was involved.
The old alchemist adjusted his glasses slowly and bowed his head.
“…Understood.”
Then he immediately began working.
The leather case opened fully across the desk. Glass vials. Silver needles. Thin crystal plates etched with alchemical circles. Several small tools that looked more surgical than magical.
Cley quietly moved aside to give him room.
Angel remained seated, posture calm, though the strain from the teleportation still lingered beneath his ribs like dull pressure.
Edwin carefully unfolded the stained cloth and held it beneath a narrow silver prism.
The prism glowed faintly blue.
Then darkened.
The old alchemist frowned immediately.
“Hm.”
He adjusted the angle.
The glow darkened further into muted violet.
Cley crossed his arms.
“That expression isn’t encouraging.”
Edwin ignored him completely.
He took a scraping from the dried residue using a tiny silver blade and dropped it into a glass vial filled with clear liquid.
The reaction was instant.
The liquid clouded black for one second before separating unnaturally into thin spiraling layers.
Edwin’s brows furrowed deeper.
“I have never seen something exactly like this before.”
Angel’s gaze sharpened slightly.
“But?”
Edwin looked up briefly.
“It’s rare.”
That answer made the room quieter somehow.
The alchemist continued working. He muttered softly under his breath while arranging several crystal needles around the vial.
“This structure…” he murmured. “The magical imprint is incredibly refined.”
Another pause.
“No ordinary poisoner could create this.”