Shivering, Iris pinched the Card of Destiny. Her aloof, mysterious demeanour collapsed, replaced by panic. Invisible hands of terror seized her arms and legs, pulling her deeper into the soft yet bone-chilling cushions. She could not move nor breathe. Her strength vanished, leaving only her despair inside her heart.
Dread overcame her. She grabbed her chest, her eyes rapidly alternating between the carriage door, the curtains, the backseat, and the front seat, searching for an escape. But how could she, a mere Transformation Phase Monster Girl, escape from that horror?
"Lady Iris, what's wrong?" Secain sprung up, her hands reaching for her daggers. “Should I call for the reinforcement?”
"No. Don't." Iris took a deep breath. "I just recalled some unpleasant memories. Nothing bad has happened yet."
That's right. Nupian isn't here; she can't be here. If she were here, she would already be sitting beside me.
Iris closed her eyes and reopened them. The Card of Destiny in her hand changed. The heart and the red line dispersed as if playfully waving goodbye. Behind them, a scene manifested. On a ruined street, an excellent black carriage lay crumbled. Golden flames burst from its wreckage. Above it was a majestic bronze weight balancer. Its size dwarfed the carriage, towering over the street.
Iris focused on the picture, surprise flashing in her eyes. Her vision revealed nothing of extraordinary danger, but the scene on the Card of Destiny told a different story.
Nupian wouldn't make a joke like this, not when it would expose her mark on me. She must have left the mark to track me but also to prevent others from taking me. Something has interfered with my divination. What could it be?
The scene painted on the Card of Destiny was symbolic; Iris had to interpret the meaning herself. Spinning the card in her hand, she fell into deep thought.
A bronze balancer . . . balance, karma, justice? Someone will bring judgement to me? Is it because I'm a Monster Girl? But I have yet to commit any crime. No, I've just done it. But no one knows that.
Is it the Evil Punisher Grand Formation, then? No. It won't strike unless I go overboard with my power. Someone will force me to go over the limit? That would be suicide unless they have permission to act. They must be someone from the imperial family or the Churches!
Iris flicked the Card of Destiny and looked up. Secain, with her hands hovering over her pockets, pressed her back on her seat. She kept a quiet demeanour, but her shifting eyes betrayed her weariness. Her body faintly quivered, guarding against all possible threats.
"Secain, I'm sorry, but please give me the poison dagger; I'll return it after it's safe," Iris said.
"But . . ." Secain hesitated for a moment, then handed Iris the dagger. "If you say so."
"Don't say that. I'll compensate you in full." Iris took out the three other daggers and hovered her right hand over them.
The Virtual Space Ring shone, and the daggers vanished. Iris sighed and turned her gaze to the two artefacts, a pitch-black ring and a golden music box. The Virtual Space Ring could not contain powerful artefacts.
In the symbolic scene, the bronze balancer is massive, oppressing the black carriage. It represents an overwhelming threat. Since I came here, I have never interacted with the Churches or the imperial family. They can't track me, but that doesn't mean they can't track what's on me.
Iris turned to the suitcase beside her. Inside it were masks, clothes, and fake documents befitting her status. It looked conspicuous.
This will have to do.
Iris grabbed the suitcase and squeezed the artefacts inside. She closed it and pressed her right hand on it, chanting under her breathes. Her azure Corruption Power surged around the suitcase. Isolation spells manifested, then sank into the leather casing. They could not hide from the powerful means, but they could delay the weaker ones from finding out.
As Iris was planning, the carriage came to a halt. Frowning, Secain parted the curtain and peered outside. People of different clothes and appearances filled the street, but none could get past the blockage. They stood near the accident site and whispered to each other, talking about their bad lucks.
"What happened?" Iris said, tensing. Time is running out. "A carriage accident?"
The tiny window connecting the inner compartment and the driver seat slid open, revealing the middle-aged driver. He lowered his head and tipped his hat, further pushing down its edge.
"Yes," he said. "What should we do? Do we wait, or do we change our course?"
"Change the course. And increase your speed. I want to arrive as soon as possible." Iris dropped her voice. "Don't make it eye-catching, and don't open the slid. From now on, when you want to tell us anything, knock first, then whisper."
The driver sullenly nodded. He swung his reins and guided the horses to change path. The carriage started moving again. Iris sighed, then fell silent.
How to escape? The enemy is more powerful than me, has no restriction of the Grand Formation, and is maybe tracking the artefacts I possess. It shouldn't be the ring; that means it is the golden box. This enemy must be a member of the Churches!
Then, which church? There are multiple faiths in Donhalgen, each having at least one Archbishop supervising its branch. How can I know which one they belong to? Iris lightly slapped her cheeks. I almost focused on the wrong question. It doesn't matter where they come from. The fact that they come from one of the Churches is already excellent!
Iris grabbed the suitcase and placed it beneath her seat. She stared at the Card of Destiny before shoving it inside her pocket, then turned her attention to Secain, who straightened her back.
"What is your order, Lady Iris?"
"I need you to calm down. No matter what happens, don't do anything. Don't resist, don't panic, and don't notice anything." Iris turned solemn. "Do you trust me? Will you swear never to leak anything you see from now on to anyone else, not even the Court Founder?"
"Keep everything a secret?" Secain gasped. "It would be difficult. Although I chose to be with you forever, my loyalty to the Court is not something I can cut off easily."
Iris smiled. "Then, keep everything that would not threaten the Court a secret. You'll be the arbitrator of your choices. Is that acceptable?"
Secain blinked and stared at Iris, then herself. She was of Pure Races. Though she was still an official member, her status was only high among the other Pure Races. She also had no outside attachment, no people to care about, and no people who cared about her.
Her loyalty to the Court stemmed from its act of kindness. Now, another person had offered such kindness to her.
"I will trust you once more, Lady Iris." Secain blushed. "I don't know why, but something about you reassure me. I have a feeling that you will be someone important to me. If, in the future, I save up enough merits for a chance, will you let me choose you?"
"I'll be waiting." Iris chuckled. "I hope that you will think it through when the time comes. This body isn't only beautiful and charming; it is also corrupted and evil. The world will truly become your enemies; you will no longer belong to the good and the heavenly. Can you bear such weight for the rest of your life?"
Secain pressed her right hand on the left of her chest, squeezing against her dainty breasts. "The world has already abandoned me when it let the Order train me as its assassin. Back then, I blindly trusted the Order. Whomever it wanted, I would assassinate them. How many fathers and mothers I killed, I've lost count. If not for the Court, I would still be helping the Order perpetuating the cycle."
"Then, allow me to be the devil." Iris reached out her right hand. "This hand shall never let go of you, no matter what happens. Even if the world abandons you once more, I'll be there, waiting for you."
Iris's eyes stirred. Like tides of the ocean, they swirled, brewing deep currents beneath their calm surface. Their majesty radiated balance and assurance, one whose integrity would persist even if the tempest were to occur. This feeling, expressed through silence, permeated the carriage, crept inside Secain, and permeated her heart.
No one had offered her such a choice. Even if they did, they could never have the same air as Iris. This air, though ethereal, hid beneath it the vicissitudes of life, the life which had lived within the unimaginable time.
Her heart compelled her. She gradually reached out her left hand. Her delicate fingers grasped Iris's palm and held it tight, never to let go. Still, her expression remained dull. Her chest tightened and burned up, her heart racing, her arms tingling. She could not express anything; it overwhelmed her.
As Secain recollected her thoughts, the carriage came to a halt. The driver firmly knocked the wooden slid thrice, each equally separated from one another. There was a problem with the selected route.
Iris frowned. The vision revealed nothing of such. She had told the carriage to go faster, but it was not that fast. The packed street prevented the driver from increasing the pace lest he drew attention.
"What happened this time?" Iris drew back her right hand, but Secain didn't let go. She followed the hand and sat beside Iris, leaning on her.
"Lady Iris, there is another roadblock." The driver's voice was low, weary. "What should we do?"
"What roadblock is it this time?"
"A public love confession."
"What? Nevermind." Iris narrowed her eyes as she pulled Secain closer to her, embracing her. "Change the course. Don't stop. Keep moving, and don't call for me unless I give permission first. If you encounter any more accidents, avoid them all."
The driver didn't say anything. He kept his hat low and his arms steady, commanding the horses to change their course. The wheels of the carriage rolled, grinding the pebbles, producing muffled cracks.
Love confession . . . it might be something Nupian did. Her power seems to have something about Love. Even if it weren't her doing, it has given me a crucial inspiration. It's dangerous and embarrassing, but I'll try it. If the enemy is really a member of the Churches, Secain and I will be safe!
While the carriage moved along a bustling road, Iris raised her hands and channelled her Corruption Power. She focused her mind and recalled a vivid night, one which she spent her time with Varda, a Mage who turned into a fine Green Snake Girl. She followed her instinct, Varda's instinct, and cast multiple isolation spells of varying types: sound isolation, vibration isolation, visual isolation, heat isolation, and scent isolation.
After a deep breath, Iris changed her manner and air. Her firmness melted into playfulness as her black eyes curved along with her emotions, producing a hypnotising gaze. Her breathes grew hot and foggy, caressing Secain's bare flesh, damping her tight maid-assassin uniform. Secain shivered, her voice leaking out of her pursed lips.
"Lady Iris?" Secain trembled. Her calm expression shattered. Blood rushed to her face. "I, I'm not ready! This compensation is too much, too valuable. I can't accept it. My body is too inferior. I lack the knowledge and techniques!"
"Be quiet." Iris's enchanting voice rang inside Secain's ears. It occupied her brain and infected all her thoughts, turning them into something about Iris's beauty, voices, touches, scents, and tastes. "Bite me if you can't take it anymore. This is a reward, as well as a punishment; you will choose which one you think it is. Remember, do not tell anyone about anything that happens here."
With a smirk on her face, Iris stood up, pushed Secain firmly onto the cushion, and pressed herself on top of Secain, rubbing her sensitive flesh against the warm, petite body. Her hands caressed the gaps between the tight-fit uniform and wormed their way inside, stroking the soft, ticklish skin.
Gradually, Iris lowered her head and sealed her lips with Secain's. Her fingers sensually crawled inside Secain's clothes. They stopped on Secain's back and began to unbutton her dress.
Iris is an extremely logical being who never out-doublethinks her own dumb self, no siree!
She does what she pleases and feels ashamed about it later!