Not long ago, White Bank Hotel.
The warm glow of the gas lamps dispelled the damp, cold mist outside the window.
The rich aroma of black tea filled the room.
“So, Professor Cecil.”
Charlotte held the hot tea that had just been delivered by a waiter.
In her clear eyes, the light of a quest for knowledge flickered.
“If it were a formal dinner for eight...”
“Is the first seat of honor to the hostess's right reserved for the most distinguished male guest of the evening?”
“Or should it be left for an unmarried elder brother living in the same house?”
Ms. Cecil held her exquisite teacup and took a light sip.
Then, she placed the cup back onto the saucer elegantly and silently.
“An excellent question, Miss Rockland.”
Her voice was gentle and patient, carrying an intellectual beauty that felt like a spring breeze.
“According to traditional Kingdom aristocratic etiquette...”
“The position to the hostess's right always belongs to the most distinguished guest of the evening, to showcase the host's impeccable respect.”
“As for the unmarried elder brother...”
Ms. Cecil smiled slightly, her tone carrying a hint of perfectly placed humor.
“If this brother is decent enough and socially adept...”
“He should sit directly opposite the hostess, sharing the burden of hosting at the other end of the long table and acting as a co-host.”
“But if...”
Cecil's tone shifted.
“He is a crude lad who can't even tie a bowtie straight and has no taste for conversation...”
“Then the most decent thing to do is mercilessly arrange for him to be at the very end of the long table.”
“Or, simply place him right next to a hard-of-hearing countess.”
“That way, even if he causes some appalling social disaster at the table, the scope of the impact will be minimized.”
Charlotte was amused by this elegant yet biting joke and let out a puff of laughter, covering her mouth as she giggled.
“Oh my...”
“If there really were such a dinner, I can hardly imagine where my two brothers would sit.”
“They would most likely be kicked into the kitchen to eat with the cook.”
Suddenly.
As if she had thought of some heavy matter, Charlotte lowered her head deeply.
Her slender fingers fretfully rubbed the warm side of the cup.
She curled up on the sofa, looking like a repentant lost lamb.
“Ms. Cecil...”
“Did you know?”
“I really don't know what's been wrong with me these past few days.”
Charlotte's voice carried a thick sense of self-loathing.
“I always feel like... Elias is telling me tall tales.”
“The feeling is strong and baseless, but I just feel like he's lying to me.”
“To prove this ridiculous intuition, I even...”
Charlotte closed her eyes in pain.
“I acted like a crude spy hiding in a dark street corner and secretly followed Elias!”
“I'm simply a hopeless, terrible sister!”
“How could I be so suspicious and maliciously speculate about the brother who has always protected me?”
Hearing this guilt-ridden self-confession.
Cecil's exquisite face maintained that same expression of a gentle older sister.
“Oh, Charlotte.”
Cecil set down her teacup, leaned forward slightly, and reached out to gently pat the girl's hand.
“I remember you saying your brother changed jobs and went out of town, right?”
“It's not strange for you to have these fretful thoughts.”
Her voice was like a breeze carrying a soothing magic.
“A young girl's sudden change in her brother, or him being about to leave the life path she's familiar with, always brings about a bit of excessive protectiveness and curiosity.”
“This is completely understandable; it's only natural.”
“You really don't need to blame yourself so harshly.”
Cecil spoke the gentlest words of comfort.
But in the depths of her heart, the cold fire of suspicion was like a bucket of gasoline had been poured over it, instantly erupting into a roar!
Charlotte is suspicious of her brother?
Intuition?
Cecil's gaze flickered imperceptibly, scanning Charlotte's fiery red hair.
She knew very well that her student was a descendant of pure Norse bloodline!
In the hidden records of mysticism...
Pure-blooded and talented Norse were born with a terrifying intuition for lies!
They didn't even need the assistance of any supernatural spells to easily distinguish deception and disguise in another's words!
Could it be...
That Charlotte is one of those exceptionally gifted Norse?!
If that were truly the case...
Cecil's heart skipped a beat uncontrollably.
Then all the lies I told her before...
Wouldn't they all be at risk of exposure?!
How much has this little girl seen through?!
No.
Calm down.
Cecil forcibly suppressed the agitation in her heart and quickly performed a tactical deduction.
Maybe she was just overthinking it.
Charlotte's performance just now might be exactly as she said—merely the common curiosity and worry of a sister regarding her brother's whereabouts.
Just as Cecil was having a mental whirlwind, preparing to continue probing for details...
Charlotte spoke again.
“You might be right.”
The girl took a deep breath, seemingly drawing a bit of strength from Cecil's comfort.
“It's probably because of this that my mental state has been really poor lately.”
Immediately after.
Charlotte suddenly stood up.
With a serious expression, she bowed deeply to Cecil.
“I must offer you a formal apology, Ms. Cecil.”
“Oh?”
Cecil raised an eyebrow, maintaining a proper smile.
She was somewhat confused by Charlotte's sudden, illogical apology.
“What are you apologizing for, dear child?”
“This afternoon...”
Charlotte bit her lip, an embarrassed blush appearing on her face.
“This afternoon, I actually fell asleep on your bed for no reason!”
“I was clearly just about to sit down, and then I lost consciousness the next second.”
“Perhaps I've just been too sleepy lately, and my health is poor...”
“I'm so sorry for messing up your bedding!”
Hearing this explanation.
Cecil was stunned for a moment, then she burst into a chuckle and waved her hand magnanimously.
“I thought it was some earth-shattering trouble!”
Cecil said softly.
“Miss Rockland was too tired and slept on her teacher's bed; that's nothing to be surprised about, and certainly nothing to apologize for.”
“Sit down, my child.”
As she spoke, she reached out and affectionately helped Charlotte sit back down on the sofa.
However.
Under the cover of this warm gesture.
A bombshell had been dropped into the depths of Cecil's heart, stirring up a massive wave!
Falling asleep for no reason?!
Directly losing consciousness?!
Sleepiness?
Even a lunatic in Landon Asylum could tell there was a problem!
As a high-level transcendent who spent years walking the line between life and death, Cecil was all too familiar with these symptoms!
This wasn't some damn physical exhaustion!
This was absolutely an intervention of supernatural power acting directly on the spiritual level!
It was a spell!
Someone had used a hypnotic spell on this defenseless girl!
And at that point in time...
Who else was in this room besides Charlotte?!
Only Elias!
Elias was present at the time!
He couldn't be ruled out as a suspect!
No, he was the only suspect!
To prevent his sister from knowing what he was doing, he simply cast a 【Sleep Spell】 to knock her out.
That makes perfect sense!
But the spirit measurement from the ruins across the way clearly indicated only Scale One!
In the depths of Cecil's pupils, a heart-stopping cold light flashed.
All the clues began to link together frantically at this moment.
Just as Cecil was suppressing the churning shock in her heart and preparing to re-evaluate the young man named Elias...
Charlotte held her teacup and added another sentence in a small voice.
“By the way, Ms. Cecil.”
The girl looked up, her eyes filled with a trace of confusion and bewilderment.
“I remember you mentioned in class before that you know some ancient mysticism, right?”
“I had a strange dream during that brief sleep just now.”
Charlotte's brow furrowed as she tried to recall the fragments of that absurd dream.
“That dream was so real, it almost didn't feel like a dream.”
“I dreamed of a net.”
“A massive net glowing with a faint blue light.”
“It was hanging in the endless void, with dense lines interwoven together, as if connecting everything in this world...”
Clink.
Ms. Cecil's hand, reaching for her teacup, suddenly jerked.
She stared at the Charlotte in front of her.
A blue net?!
Connecting everything?!
Cecil desperately hid the shock that was nearly overflowing from her eyes.
She slowly picked up the saucer and brought the teacup to her lips for a sip.
Her heart was pounding like a drum in her chest.
Is she serious?
The Origin Web?!
Rate on N.U.
