Chapter 374
Ritual: The Centipede’s Gait
Did Eivass really need to use a ritual to identify the suspect?
In fact, he didn’t.
When he heard Captain Camus mention “copying the document file,” Eivass had already identified the suspect in his heart.
The logic was simple.
The document handed to Captain Camus was not a “highly classified diplomatic letter” with unknown content, but “substantial evidence” whose content was already known to everyone. It was the letter they had originally intercepted from the spy.
In other words, this was the “core evidence locking Miss Alistair’s identity.” And almost everyone knew this.
With Her Majesty the Queen having already warned that this matter should not be publicized further, the Chief Secretary of the Naval Minister requested Captain Camus to copy a document…
This actually revealed the Naval Minister’s stance.
Simply put, Her Majesty the Queen’s attitude towards the Round Table Hall was to conceal the matter. Therefore, this letter would most likely “accidentally go missing” or “have its contents replaced.” The disappearance or disposal of this letter was the direction the Royal Family hoped for.
In this situation, to act by the book, go through the procedures, and be prepared for any eventuality… it was already obvious who they were trying to obstruct.
Moreover, Captain Camus had inadvertently mentioned that he was a “Hunter.”
This was another important detail.
If this matter escalated and continued to ferment, what would be the outcome?
Undoubtedly, Captain Camus would be held solely responsible.
He would argue strenuously, explaining that he indeed had not seen anyone. He would repeatedly emphasize that, as a “Hunter,” he had not seen anyone pass by the stairs the entire time.
This meant that either the thief entered through the window silently, took the item, and left, or they could bypass the keen senses of a Third Tier Hunter, forcibly enter his home, and steal important items.
But the item was lost. Lost is lost.
No matter how he explained it, it would only lead to two public opinions:
First, these “Non-Authority Path” Extraordinary beings of the new generation lacked the necessary obedience and discipline to hold important positions.
Second, Hunters, even at the Third Tier, were still not very useful, unable to even detect when something was stolen from them. The strength of these “Other Path Extraordinarys” encouraged under the “Sophia Policy,” outside the “Authority, Devotion, Balance” Paths, was not essential enough to warrant encouragement and development.
Thus, the Minister of Affairs, authorized by Queen Sophia, would have to directly confront the new generation of officers born under the “Sophia Policy.” If Eivass did not attack, it would mean he had to silently endure this loss. If Eivass attacked, they could steer this matter towards the remnants of the “Sophia Policy” left by the Queen’s Path reform.
By working backward from the beneficiaries, one could naturally identify who was behind the scheme.
—It must be those old knights of the Authority Path.
Was there a need to use a ritual to track the identity of the thief and investigate slowly along the clues?
It was completely unnecessary.
It was only necessary to know who the mastermind was; the specific person who committed the act was not important.
Although Eivass usually disliked deduction, it did not mean he lacked the ability. He simply preferred to solve problems in a more straightforward manner.
Eivass became one of the few friends recognized by Sherlock, not just because he knew some obscure knowledge that was temporarily useless… after all, erudition and intelligence were two different things.
However, conversely, Eivass needed to let others know that he had used a ritual.
But a Divination Ritual for finding objects was bound to fail.
The thief had certainly taken measures against divination, or perhaps had already disposed of the stolen item. Once an item changed hands too many times and was imbued with too many people’s aura, a Divination Ritual would have difficulty locating it.
Eivass had no interest in being led around the city like a dog by true or false clues, only to become a laughingstock.
—Since the clues were likely erased.
It would be better to create the evidence himself.
Eivass took out the ritual materials from his satchel and began preparing the ritual in front of Captain Camus.
A bottle of Anxi tree essential oil, a bottle of sweet marjoram essential oil, fine downy fur from a kitten’s paw, snake skin paste, moth scales. Also, the snake venom paste refined by Yulia and not used by Lily during battle, and Eivass’s blood infused with Lily’s Mana.
These were all materials Eivass had collected, purchased, or made last night.
The essential oils were fresh from “the King.” Moth scales were common ritual materials… finding kitten fur was a bit harder.
As for the snake skin paste, it was a typical healing ointment made by an Adaptation Path Extraordinary.
It required de-scaled snake skin to be slowly baked over low heat, along with some hemostatic and muscle-regenerating herbs, finally stewed into a thick black soup. Then, it was cooled in a shaded place, dried, ground into powder, and mixed with sesame oil and honey into a paste that could be stored for a long time.
Such a poultice could be used to stop bleeding and promote tissue regeneration… Of course, its effectiveness was certainly not as good as Alchemical potions or Witch’s elixirs. Only Adaptation Path Extraordinarys could fully benefit from it. Adventurers and Archaeologists traveling in remote areas far from towns would carry some.
Under Captain Camus’s gaze, Eivass dripped the blood infused with Lily’s Mana into the moth scales and gently shook to mix. Then, he soaked the kitten fur in Anxi tree essential oil, mixed the snake skin paste with the snake venom, and added half of the sweet marjoram essential oil to dissolve it.
Thus, Eivass obtained three tubes of liquids of different colors.
Deep brown, dark red, and dark green.
Eivass infused his own dark attribute Mana into each separately, then poured these three bottles of liquid before him, allowing them to flow into three puddles and gradually merge.
He believed that Captain Camus would not understand this ritual or the materials.
Because what Eivass was about to perform was not a Divination Ritual at all.
Eivass’s lips parted, and he silently chanted, “I invite the Grey Heavenly Envoy…”
“Heavenly Envoy of Truth and Falsehood, Heavenly Envoy of Silence and Speechlessness—
“Grant me lightness like a cat, elusiveness like a moth, malignancy like a snake…
“Bestow upon me the lies of vagueness and silence!”
As Eivass chanted silently, the three puddles of liquid before him gradually evaporated and mixed in front of him.
Three wisps of smoke of different colors gathered together, but ultimately formed a dull grayish-white.
Eivass deeply inhaled the smoke, and then, as if falling into some sort of hallucination, gazed blankly ahead. His pupils were covered with a layer of hazy mist.
But in reality, Eivass had not fallen into a hallucination.
This ritual was called “The Centipede’s Gait,” a ritual recorded in Lily’s Grimoire. Its most crucial material was the “breath of lies,” meaning Lily’s blood, Mana, or the illusory spider silk she created.
Its effect was simple and effective: to conceal Eivass from the dimensions of prophecy and divination.
Eivass was momentarily dazed because he now needed to carefully weave his “false whereabouts.”
During the duration of this ritual, divination and prophecy methods of Fourth Tier and below would be interfered with.
If someone used a ritual to investigate Eivass within the duration, they would see the “false actions” he was currently weaving. The more unreasonable the false actions were, the greater the deviation from true logic, the shorter the duration would be.
From the moment Eivass arrived at Captain Camus’s study onwards, his true whereabouts would be hidden.
And the “lie” Eivass wove was simple: after investigating the information, Eivass left on his own and went home.
Before he got home, he was attacked, severely injured, and kidnapped by “Alistair” hiding in the shadows.
In front of Captain Camus, Eivass completed his ritual.
“How is it?”
Seeing Eivass open his eyes, the Captain asked nervously and expectantly, “Did you find it?”
“I found it.”
Eivass sighed and said softly.
“What’s wrong?”
The Captain was a little nervous. “Is there trouble?”
He had witnessed Eivass’s “divination” and could testify that Eivass’s information was obtained through divination. He was certainly not lying, as he truly believed it. No lie detector could identify otherwise.
“It’s the Naval Minister.”
Eivass’s emotions were low, as if he felt betrayed, and he replied softly, “That letter is with him. And he seems to… be quite familiar with Miss Alistair.”
