Ch.62006 Investigation Record – In Search of the Clues to Sorcery (3)

I was gradually getting the hang of it, but hearing someone explain it directly was a different experience altogether. Plus, his desperation made the story feel much more horrifying.

But I couldn’t just blindly believe him. He knew what the Argonne Invincibles had done, but not why they had done it. I scanned through the pages of the book he had shown me.

The Connection Ritual appeared to be a provisional name. Given the nature of rituals, practitioners were reluctant to give them proper names, let alone attach their creators’ names to them, so it was known by this vague title.

The book stated that the ritual required a sacrifice that was either alive or recently deceased. It was a ritual that could make ordinary people resistant to magic, which was why it had been used discreetly on numerous battlefields throughout history.

Despite having told me everything already, the warlock-soldier snapped at me impatiently as I continued to skim through the book.

“What I told you is right there in the book! Why do you need to check for yourself…”

He was an expert in rituals, not an expert on the Argonne Invincibles. I confronted his impatience directly.

“Neither of us knows what those people were thinking when they used this ritual! I’m truly grateful that you’ve told me what ritual they used, but I don’t want to jump to conclusions and end up hiding the truth with my own hands.”

He continued with exasperation.

“What thoughts could possibly justify using humans as sacrifices? There’s only one person ritual practitioners use as a sacrifice.”

He showed me his arm, which still smelled of blood. There were several ritual circles drawn on it, depicting the Eye of Providence—the triangle with an eye that represented the all-seeing eye of the God-President.

“Only themselves. Did you know that during the witch-hunting era, the people who reported the most ritual practitioners for using rituals on others were other ritual practitioners? That’s how taboo it is for us! Do you understand?”

Was he so fixated on the taboo that he couldn’t see anything else? I met his gaze directly as he fluctuated between anger and horror, his body trembling.

“I’m not trying to justify it. I’m saying there’s still too much we don’t know. And, according to what I just read in the book, the Connection Ritual was historically used on battlefields… Didn’t your unit ever use it? I mean, using lambs or chickens instead of people for the Connection Ritual?”

I tried to redirect his thoughts with a question. But he shook his head.

“Even for a Connection Ritual, it’s too cumbersome to cast on each individual soldier. The sacrifice needs to be either recently deceased or alive, and if you used a chicken, the ritual’s effect would end before you finished killing it… And do you think we could carry around sheep for that purpose?”

He raised his arm again, this time rolling up his sleeve to his shoulder to reveal more ritual circles drawn on his upper arm.

“This is the ritual we used most often on the battlefield. We did receive a couple of old sheep as supposed sacrifices, but they weren’t enough for proper rituals, so we just gave them to the soldiers to eat. They feasted for a day.”

As if wanting to show me exactly what kind of ritual it was, he made his ritual circles glow white and extended his opposite hand. It didn’t seem like he wanted me to take his hand, so I placed my hand on top of his outstretched fist.

Suddenly, I felt my vision elevate. My position seemed to have changed too. It appeared to be the garden of this house, and I could see the surroundings from a height even taller than an orc’s perspective.

A finger-snapping sound rang out from beyond my field of vision, and my view shifted to another location. It seemed to be the same garden, but both the position and the direction I could see were different.

Slightly startled, I removed my hand from his fist, and my vision returned to normal. The white-glowing ritual circles on his arm also calmed down.

“It’s a ritual that allows you to see places you can’t see with your own eyes. This is the kind of thing we typically used on the battlefield. So don’t defend them. It was taboo, and they broke it.”

His previously angry expression softened somewhat. He was looking down at me as if he somehow pitied me. Perhaps he too once believed the Argonne Invincibles had their reasons. That must be it.

“I won’t deny they broke a taboo. In return, please don’t deny that we know too little. Is that fair?”

He nodded with difficulty. He seemed like someone who had only learned how to cast stones at those who broke taboos. I was too yielding, and he was too rigid.

I was fortunate to have gained the trust of the Argonne Invincibles and come with some knowledge. Otherwise, I certainly wouldn’t have been able to understand him or reassure him like this.

“Alright, I’ll do that. Now that you know what ritual it is, are you going to ask them why they did this? Something like that?”

He spoke as if it were some kind of joke. I wouldn’t be able to hear the truth. They were likely hiding information about the ritual quite systematically, and I didn’t know how to forcibly extract information.

“No, I’m interviewing you right now. I can’t learn anything if I just go poking around everywhere. Oh, may I ask you a few more questions?”

He nodded again, seemingly much more comfortable with this question than my previous one. I smiled, raising the corners of my mouth, and waited for him to sit down after he had stood up to explain the ritual.

“You mentioned earlier that they might come looking for you. Have you ever actually been attacked by them? By the Argonne Invincibles, I mean. You could have detected if they were watching you with that ritual of yours.”

He bit his lip for a moment, then nodded. After making an expression as if trying to force his mouth open, he properly shook his head.

“Damn, I can’t lie. No, they’ve never bothered me. Still, it’s true that they hunt ritual practitioners. A few days ago, angels from the New York Police Department came looking for me…”

From a pile of photographs, he pulled out one that showed… something that looked human but definitely wasn’t, something that instinctively evoked disgust.

It was a red… creature, slightly taller than a human. It had a body that was swollen like a blister, smooth red skin, and excessively muscular build. It was dead.

Its head was split in half, but even in death, the feeling of revulsion didn’t subside. I involuntarily shuddered.

“I was told this was found nearby recently, along with a dead dwarf ritual practitioner. That could happen, but… the perpetrator tore off the head of this monstrosity created by that ritual with bare hands, and apparently killed the dwarf, who weighed over 200 pounds, by slamming him to the ground. Only those Argonne Invincibles bastards could do something like that.”

It was true. With their double… no, with the strength and vitality of two people, they could certainly do it. I reached for the photo of the revolting creature.

“But isn’t this also… a taboo? The material clearly seems to be…”

“I saw countless of these during the Great War. Yes, it was probably made from a person. It was horrifying to see captured comrades transform into things like this. Don’t tell me you think they’re hunting those who committed the same taboo. That’s impossible.”

I stopped trying to imagine it when I felt my hands trembling. But the image I had partially formed in my mind didn’t disappear; it remained, making my thoughts uncomfortable. It must have been horrific. No matter how many times it’s said, it’s not enough.

Turning my mind away from the image of a human transforming into such a monstrosity, I continued.

“That… might be possible. I actually met one of them in person. He came into the sword museum I was visiting for an interview and stole a sword…”

I told him about the sword thief. I explained everything—how he held a sword in his hand and, despite having the body of an Argonne Invincible, didn’t harm anyone except himself.

The eyes of the former warlock-soldier sitting before me began to tremble. He shook his head at my account, which was so different from the Argonne Invincibles he had imagined. He seemed to want to deny it.

“How… how did the others react? I mean, it’s hard to believe, but…”

“No, they didn’t try to hide their reactions. They all rejoiced as if it were their own achievement that at least one person had escaped the ritual and found peace. They envied him and… mourned him. If they were people desperate to hide something, they would have said his death had nothing to do with them, but they even held a proper memorial service for him at the veterans’ hall.”

He took a deep breath and massaged his arm where the ritual circles were drawn. He didn’t seem to be trying to use a ritual; it looked more like a habit he had when anxious.

“No, no. For the Connection Ritual to work, the recipient must also consent. Those creatures must have agreed to use people as sacrifices and receive that ritual. But why…”

He had already told me a lot. He was desperate enough to pour out information as soon as he thought a stranger might have a clue. After taking a deep breath, I looked at him.

“Finding that out is a journalist’s job, isn’t it? Now that an expert in rituals like you has told me what ritual those people used… it’s my turn now. Right?”

It was impossible for one person to do everything. I didn’t know much about rituals or the military, nor did I know how to protect myself, but I did know how to search for the truth.

Actually, it wasn’t that difficult. To find the truth, you just had to keep walking until you reached it. Each step taken was one step closer.

Until now, I had believed that the path would be lined with flowers, but the detective and Giuseppina Proci had shown me otherwise. Well, my strategy remained the same: just keep walking until I reach the truth.

The anxiety in his expression subsided somewhat. He didn’t seem to fully trust a journalist he had just met, but at least he was no longer on edge, being defensive and snapping at me.

We all have our stories. This was his story—how terribly he must have felt seeing the blurred faces of the Argonne Invincibles with his expert eyes, how that momentary glimpse had wrapped around him like a curse, just as the ritual was a curse to the Argonne Invincibles, and how it had stayed with him until now.

For the first time in a while, I felt like I had taken a step closer to my naively stated goal of living as a journalist—becoming someone who listens to those who want to speak.

“I’m ready to listen. Honestly, I hope those people aren’t as terrible as they seem. They saved my life, after all. But… but. If you find out anything, I’d like you to tell me without holding back. That’s not too much to ask, is it?”

I nodded firmly. I had never learned how to give up. Even when the Cowboy lost his life in an unfortunate turn of events, I did what I could. Even after the detective and Giuseppina showed me the harsh and bitter reality, I never stopped my investigation.

Looking at me as if my expression wasn’t entirely convincing, he wrote his number on a page from a notebook, tore it out, and handed it to me.

“Feel free to contact me anytime you need a ritual expert. I’m always at home, so I won’t miss your call.”

I had seen it before, but let’s pretend I just found out. When I unfolded the paper, I saw the same number I had memorized when I watched him dial the public telephone. I smiled brightly again.

After saying goodbye to him, I headed outside where Paulina was waiting. I looked back at the house, which had seemed gloomy when I entered but now looked more like the bristled back of a hedgehog. Paulina, who had been standing right at the front gate waiting, only relaxed her posture after I came out.

“The conversation didn’t take as long as I expected, Rose. What were you talking about?”

I gestured for her to get in the car first, and then I got in too. Only after the car started and the engine and wheel noise adequately masked the surrounding sounds did I speak.

“I learned what ritual the Argonne Invincibles used. It’s called the Connection Ritual… Originally, it’s a ritual where animal blood is used to baptize someone so they only receive half of any harm, but apparently those people used another person as a sacrifice. Can you take me to the veterans’ hall to verify this? There should still be people there now.”

It was getting late, but it wasn’t completely dawn yet. I had heard there were several people who stayed there regularly, so it wouldn’t be too late to go now.

As we drove down the quiet roads of the wealthy neighborhood, it seemed we weren’t the only car on the road. I was about to slightly stick my head out the window to look back when Paulina stopped me with just her words.

“Don’t look back, Rose. It seems to be the Gnolls… They appear to be following us to see where we’re going. They weren’t there initially when you met the editor-in-chief’s son, but they’ve been following us since then.”

Yes, it seemed it was time to face the bitter taste of reality again today. I moved the Derringer pistol from my chest to my pocket. Paulina glanced at me briefly.

“Try not to draw it first if possible. If the Gnolls are threatening without guns, I can physically argue with them. But if you do need to shoot… aim for the stomach, not the head.”

Right, it would probably just be a few Gnolls approaching in a car… Paulina could handle that much.

I took a deep breath, feeling somewhat reassured, but the sound of the car carrying the Gnolls didn’t disappear until we reached the veterans’ hall.

I was afraid of Giuseppina, but I was more afraid of moving according to her words. The car finally stopped after confirming that, fortunately, there were no Gnolls in front of the veterans’ hall.

As I was about to get out immediately, Paulina placed her hand on the back of mine as if asking me to wait a moment, and spoke with a sigh.

“If you contact Mr. Clichy and ask him to resolve this, he’ll do it right away, Rose. Rather than constantly being on edge like this, it would be better to properly contact him and…”

The car that had been following us stopped behind us, and a strong animal smell began to waft from the front. It seemed my assumption that there were no Gnolls here was also wrong.

Giuseppina, who was about one and a half times the size of a normal female Gnoll, got out of the car that had been parked in front, stretching her previously crumpled body. Did she know our destination from the beginning? A sense of unease rose within me.

“Looks like you’ve got some trouble? Talking about contacting someone to handle things. If that’s the case, you should have just told us. Hm? The people who helped Golden Age Press thrive can’t even solve one personal problem.”

Giuseppina, who had gotten out of the car in front, approached our car with a smirk. She bent down considerably, placed her hand on the roof of the car, tapped it a couple of times, and then bared her teeth in a sneer.

“That detective doesn’t seem as good as I thought. Someone’s digging into his background like this, and he hasn’t said a word to me. Come out. Let’s have an open conversation about why you’re investigating the detective I hired. Let’s resolve this through dialogue.”