Extra's Descent

Of course, Brandon didn't let the opportunity slip.

He had never seen that woman before. With so many suspicious individuals roaming the city, sneaking into the heart of society, even they had managed to get an instructor job in the academy.

For that reason, he surmised that the woman might've been one of them.

Immediately, he stood up, alerting the cadets around him.

"Where are you going?"

Raven, who sat beside him, glanced up.

"Bathroom."

If he wasn't too late, surely, the woman was still in the lobby.

As soon as he arrived at the lobby, his conjectures were correct.

"...."

There, he could see the woman, walking towards the exit. This aroused suspicion even more, the awarding ceremony had yet to end, but it seemed like the woman had lost interest.

And also,

Who invited her?

Brandon took a good look at her back. Her figure, akin to an hourglass, most probably honed her body to perfection.

Amelia was quite the same in that aspect, and of course, Brandon found it quite arousing. For that reason, conjectures pile up one after another.

This woman must've had extensive training.

"Hello?"

Brandon called for her.

"...?"

The woman halted in her steps, turning her head to his direction.

Brandon met her crimson gaze, her platinum blonde hair swayed to the side. Their gazes locked in a stand–still for a brief second until the woman's lips parted open.

"Yes? How may I help you?"

Her voice, a perfect blend of low and high pitch, a bit captivating if he had to be honest.

"Where are you going? The awarding ceremony hasn't ended yet."

The woman's head tilted sideways, a question mark spread across her features, a look of confusion.

"I didn't know we weren't allowed to leave until the ceremony ended?"

"Well, no. You can. I was just curious. I was actually heading for the bathroom when I saw you."

"Ah, are you here for directions then?"

The woman's fingers traced her lips, a blend of innocence and allure.

"Yes."

Brandon nodded his head.

"Take that corridor over there. Turn left, then right at each end. You should see the bathroom from there."

"Ah."

Then that meant she was aware of the venue's blueprints.

Was he wrong then?

Was this woman simply just trying to leave after losing interest?

No, he couldn't shake off his suspicions.

"Thank you, Miss….?"

"Ah, it's Lianna."

"Miss Lianna. Okay, thank you."

"Mhm, I'll be going now. I've got some important matters to attend to. Keep up the good work, cadet."

Just like that, Lianna turned around and left.

Brandon stared at the slowly closing door for a second, trying to surmise his conjectures.

Since he knew he shouldn't push too much, he had only left the conversation like that.

Lianna….

Lianna….

He had no idea who that was.

But maybe someone did.

Bellion.

He had to ask him later.

That being said, Brandon returned to the ceremony shortly after.

***

After the ceremony ended, Reinhard returned to his house.

To be precise, Bellion's mansion.

He had been living here since he was eight years old.

Ever since…. 'that' incident.

The incident that claimed the lives of both his parents.

And for ten years, it had been his driving force to make it this far.

To avenge them.

Yet ten years, trying to find who the perpetrator is, there was not a single clue to the perpetrator's identity.

Entering his room, as always, it was a mess.

Papers and documents strewn all over the floor. On the corner were bookshelves, yet there were no books arranged there.

It was all a bunch of case files regarding the incident.

An incident that had turned into a cold case. Much to the point where even his own uncle, Bellion Van, had stopped looking for the perpetrator after years of investigating.

But Reinhard…. he had yet to give up.

Sitting on his bed, he looked at the whiteboard on the corner of his room. Several papers were pinned to the board. Theories, and such, on who the suspect might be.

Yet in the end, it had all proven for naught.

All of his suspects had alibis on that day. It had to be said that he did put a substantial amount of effort on the case.

There were no clues, nor any evidence left at the scene of the crime. Yet by his own efforts, interviewing and interrogating several people, he had come up with a list of suspects, regardless if they were remotely related to the case or not.

Changing into a set of clothes, Reinhard fixed his collar.

It was time for that again.

As soon as he stepped out of his room, a deep voice resounded, reaching his ears.

"Where are you going this time?"

It was Bellion.

"None of your business."

Reinhard immediately dismissed him without looking back, walking towards the exit.

"It's not worth it. There's a chance the perpetrator could be dead by now. Regardless, a time will come when he will be discovered."

"Yeah, yeah."

The same warning time and time again.

Twelve years, and there was no news of such.

It was ridiculous.

For all Bellion knew, the perpetrator could be living a life of luxury right now. Animosity began to boil within Reinhard upon the thought of the perpetrator, forgetting the crime he had done in the past.

It was truly hard.

After all, his parents were respectable people. There shouldn't have been anyone to bear a grudge against them.

For that reason, the motive of the crime was unknown.

And it was still unknown.

"Don't try to stop me."

"I would've done that long ago. I understand where your anger resides."

"Then why the fuck aren't you doing anything? She was your sister, for fuck's sake."

Bellion Van was his uncle from his mother's side.

Her mother's younger brother.

"Like I told you, I've tried and tried again."

"Try harder. You're a Field Marshal now. You have all the resources, yet you're doing fucking nothing."

"Haaa…."

Bellion let out a heavy sigh.

"You don't understand. The scope of my position's importance weighed a lot more. There's so many things I have to do—"

"Even more important than finding your sister's killer?"

"Tsk."

Bellion clicked his tongue, a crease forming on his temple.

"Don't go there."

"Haha. Field Marshal. Apprentice of the famous Lightning Emperor. Imperial Academy's Headmaster, and next in line for the Grand Marshal position. But he can't even find his own sister's murderer"

".....Reinhard."

"Just shut up and let me do my own thing."

Slam—!

Reinhard left the room at that moment, slamming the door.

Bellion massaged his temple shortly after that encounter.

"You think I haven't tried?"

He felt frustrated.

"You think I didn't put in as much effort as you?"

Thump!

He smacked the table.

"You think I don't care about my sister?"

He clenched his fist.

He might've warned Reinhard several times. But this was the first time they had argued in a long while.

And Reinhard had tugged his heart strings, telling him words he didn't want to hear.

"Tsk."

His fest clenched even more tightly as he felt his nails dug deeper in his palm.

***

Brandon had received the call stating Zeke had woken up.

It was the fourth day since Zeke had been held captive. And not once had he given any important information.

But regardless, Brandon needed the guy to talk.

For that reason, he returned to the Primordials base.

It was the best time to return as well since most of the members were busy around this time.

It was a group that would only gather together when the need arises after all. Asides that, they would take on contract jobs on their own volition.

For who was hiring them, Brandon had no need to find out.

After all, these guys would never take on jobs that would bring harm to humanity.

Ah, no.

There was someone here.

A woman, with lustrous peach hair and captivating pink eyes.

"Hey, Illya?"

"...."

Illya just nodded her head without saying anything.

Right, this girl was a quiet one.

"Is he there?"

Brandon pointed at the door that led to the chamber.

"...."

Illya nodded her head once more.

Good talk.

Brandon entered the chamber soon after.

The familiar sight of Zeke, with mana shackles. Artifacts that suppresses mana, ensnared around his arms, as he sat with dead eyes.

His lips looked dry, showing signs of cracking.

After all, Brandon had told them to deprive him of basic necessities, such as; water, and only a little amount of food. Just enough for the guy not to pass out.

Shortly after, Zeke spoke with a hoarse voice.

"Bra–ndon Locke…"

As Brandon stepped forward, narrowing his eyes, he soon halted his steps upon noticing a presence looming behind him.

Flicking his head, there, he could see Illya once again, adorning an elegant black dress.

"...."

"...."

He knew he had entered the room alone, and not once had he heard the door open for Illya to enter.

Creepy.