Fate: How About a New Savior?

Inside the walled workshop, alongside essentials like the Philosopher's Egg and distillers, were countless materials and tools specific to Iselma's Magecraft.

At that moment, Byron Valualeta Iselma stood within, using a magical reagent to destroy something.

The items tossed into the fireplace burned slowly in flames imbued with magical energy.

Iselma's Magecraft prized aesthetic expression, and as a result, often fell short in more practical applications.

Even an act as straightforward as destroying materials required the help of magical potions—only then could one ensure the remains couldn't be reconstructed, even by the most skilled Magus.

"How impatient."

A voice spoke behind him, prompting Byron to whirl around.

Tenkei Shiomi stood at the workshop doorway, a gentle smile on his lips.

"Mr. Shiomi, this is Iselma's magical workshop. You shouldn't just barge in like this," Byron said, quickly regaining his composure as he stood to rebuke the intrusion.

"Generally speaking, no, a guest shouldn't be this rude," Shiomi replied, unfazed. "But I don't think our relationship is as simple as host and guest, is it?"

Byron's expression stiffened. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean, Mr. Shiomi."

"Right now, I'm under suspicion for killing your two daughters—the Princess of Gold and the Princess of Silver," Shiomi said as he slowly approached.

Ordinarily, a workshop was a Magus's home base—a fortress by nature. Any reckless intruder would meet with fierce resistance, regardless of who they were.

That's how it should've been.

But though Byron clutched his cane, he didn't dare to move.

Had this happened before the Galliasta forces attacked, he might've responded decisively.

But now—after Shiomi single-handedly crushed the Galliasta Magus army, after Atrum Galliasta had fallen in battle, after Byron had watched everything from within the Twin Towers—he knew the situation had spiraled far beyond his control.

Shiomi walked past him, crouched at the fireplace, and pulled out a half-burned document. Runes encircled the surviving parchment, rapidly restoring it before his eyes.

Restorative Rune Magecraft.

"Oh… a damage-transferring curse. Used on the right target, it could even shift fatal wounds. Normally, a spell like this is too dangerous—there's no way to control where the damage goes," Shiomi remarked. "But if you bind it to an Automata, surprisingly, it works perfectly."

He turned his head toward Byron.

"And that detail alone feels completely out of character for Iselma's Magecraft. All this setup must've taken quite the effort—just to frame me, and cover up the truth about Iselma."

"Why would I frame you for something like this?" Byron, still composed, asked in indignation.

"Because Lord Valualeta found it odd—how Iselma's long-stagnant research suddenly made a leap forward. But she couldn't investigate it through internal channels, so she sent me to this little social gathering to look into it discreetly," Shiomi said, meeting Byron's gaze. "That alone should've put you on alert, don't you think?"

Byron was speechless.

As he had suspected all along, Shiomi had come to this event with a hidden agenda.

"Well then, care to explain, Byron?"

At some point, Inorai had appeared at the workshop entrance. Her voice was flat and emotionless.

…

Later, in the hall of the Tower of the Moon.

The remaining guests, along with Iselma's twin maids who had served the Princess of Gold and the Princess of Silver, had all gathered.

"I won't deny it—when I accepted Iselma's invitation to attend the debut of the Princess of Gold and the Princess of Silver, I didn't come with pure intentions," Shiomi declared in front of everyone. "The reason's simple. Before Iselma even decided to host this gathering, Lord Valualeta came to see me."

He glanced toward Lady Inorai. She had already given silent approval for him to reveal the truth.

From this moment, the incident had fully turned into a scandal.

Even if Inorai chose to cover it up for Valualeta's sake, it would inevitably put Shiomi at odds with the Democratic Faction.

A rising Magus whose potential rivaled even the current Marshal of Magecraft, Lorelei Barthomeloi—someone like that couldn't be allowed to fall into the hands of the opposition, even if they couldn't be fully brought under control.

"The reason he came to me is simple. Although Iselma's research had been progressing steadily, by Lady Inorai's estimate, it should've taken several more generations before reaching any breakthroughs. But not long ago, Iselma suddenly claimed to have made dramatic progress," Shiomi said, arms crossed as he coolly eyed Byron seated among the crowd. "Such an unexpected leap—Lady Inorai wasn't going to take it at face value. But launching a formal investigation would have caused unrest within the faction. So, she devised another approach."

That approach was to send Tenkei Shiomi.

The rest might not have known, but Lord Valualeta was well aware—no one was more suited to working behind the scenes and uncovering the truth than Shiomi.

That was why he had accepted the invitation to the social gathering in the first place.

"But for some reason, this supposedly top-secret matter made its way to Mr. Byron," Shiomi added, turning to Lady Inorai with open suspicion.

Yet Inorai remained composed as she responded, "I didn't leak a word. I didn't even discuss it within Valualeta before your investigation yielded results."

Shiomi raised an eyebrow. The answer clicked into place in his mind. He didn't press further and continued:

"Shortly before this gathering began, the Princess of Gold died during a shaping adjustment due to flaws in Iselma's technique. In other words, by the time she was found this morning, she'd already been dead for several days."

For a Magus, applying basic preservation Magecraft was a trivial task. And for a necromancer, even making a years-dead corpse appear lifelike was within reach.

As he finished speaking, Caren entered the hall, holding something wrapped in a blanket.

With calm precision, she laid it down and opened it. Many in the room immediately turned pale.

The dismembered Princess of Gold—her face still flawless—exuded a bloody, tragic beauty too terrible to behold.