The Shepherds Are Dense – Chapter 53

Chapter 53
Soul Searching Spell
Glass Island, Lloyd District.
Sherlock scrutinized his surroundings, following the memory of a small path to that stinky ditch and garbage heap.
Perhaps due to intensified factory sewage discharge, the domestic waste here had increased significantly compared to the abandoned chemical plant in his dreams, and the water had become even more foul. It had almost blocked the road, emitting a foul, putrid odor. As Sherlock approached to examine the garbage, startled cockroaches crawled out from beneath the mound.

Edward, following behind him, stood with his back straight and brows deeply furrowed.
He gazed at the garbage heap with a troubled expression, clearly reluctant to approach.
“…How did you find this place, Hermes?”
Edward said, standing his ground.
“Firsthand information obtained during the Advancement Ritual, my partner.”
Sherlock hid nothing from his close friend: “Going through here and over that small hill, you’ll see an abandoned chemical plant. That’s where the Sweater Brotherhood’s hidden base is.”
“Then, get out of the way.”
Edward said.
Sherlock obediently stepped behind his close friend, watching as his classmate, who gave off a deep, dark impression, drew one of his Elven Short Swords from his waist and pointed it forward.
White, glowing runes lit up from his right wrist, rapidly crawling towards his fingertips and all the way up the sword’s spine.
“—Law Grants Me Necessary Passage.”
With his command, pure white radiance surged, and storms howled.
An irresistible, invisible force, accompanied by light, extended from the sword’s tip, pushing the entire garbage mountain aside.
A spacious area, wide enough for ten people to walk side-by-side, was cleared, and a faintly luminous, mist-like road covered the ground.
Beneath the appearance of this glowing road, three green and one black faint lights illuminated within the surrounding garbage heap.
“It seems your information was correct, Hermes.”
Edward sheathed his short sword and said calmly, “There are traps buried in this garbage mountain. Three Path Adaptation traps, one Path of Love trap. However, their Energy Levels aren’t high.”
“Mmm, I expected as much.”
Sherlock wasn’t surprised. He continued walking forward, observing, “I noticed just now that the way this garbage is piled up isn’t natural. It doesn’t look like it was discarded by anyone, nor blown by the wind. It’s not where garbage should be, but a clear path with the least garbage has been deliberately left. The truly safe path is probably to avoid that path and climb directly over the garbage heap.”
“They probably aren’t lethal traps.”
Edward analyzed, following behind Sherlock, “If there were bloodstains or corpses in the garbage, it would be easier to expose their location.”
“It seems the Sweater Brotherhood really is here,” Sherlock frowned slightly, falling into thought, “but this is somewhat surprising. I thought they would be Demon Scholars.”
“Why do you say that?” Edward retorted.
“Because someone told me the Sweater Brotherhood has connections with the people behind the Pelican Bar.”
Sherlock analyzed, “The people behind the Pelican Bar should be the Noble Red Society. You know, they are a group of Demon Scholars who kill, sacrifice, rob, and steal. But they do have a heritage—I mean, a Star Antimony heritage.
“If they are helping the Sweater Brotherhood, then the traps at the entrance seem a bit too simple.”
Hearing Sherlock’s words, Edward fell silent for a moment.
He knew, of course, that this was irrelevant. Because they weren’t qualified.
The Sweater Brotherhood was just a group of petty thieves. Although there were Extraordinary individuals among them, they might be troublesome for Ordinary Persons… but the “Noble Red” Society probably wouldn’t bother with them.
However, it was fine for Sherlock to think this way.
Rather, it was better. Edward thought to himself.
He knew his lazy and defiant old friend had considerable Path of Wisdom adaptability and was extremely sensitive to the truth. He had come along for fear that Sherlock might discover something if he investigated alone.
Although his father hadn’t explicitly stated it, Edward had a general understanding of the conspiracy behind the Pelican Bar.
Those people were from the Noble Red Society.
On the surface, it was a Demon Scholar organization composed mostly of Avalon people, with a few instructors from Star Antimony.
But Edward knew more.
They were not purely an illegal Extraordinary organization, but a group funded by the Star Antimony Kingdom, intending to subvert the rule of Avalon’s knights.
The reason was simple. Their leader was a Giant.
Their Giant bloodline originated from the Arctorus Kingdom, a Giant dynasty overthrown four hundred years ago by Avalon’s founding monarch, Lancelot I, with the support of the Elves.
At that time, in this small island nation, powerful and brave Giants ruled and protected the short humans. They were quite powerful then, to the extent that they could maintain peace and independence under the influence of the Empire.
Although there was no evidence to prove that their leader possessed royal blood from Arctorus, he was undoubtedly a very rare Giant on the continent today. In “Arctorus,” Giants were basically nobles—so, even if he wasn’t royalty, he was at least a noble from the previous dynasty.
Among the other high-ranking members of the Noble Red Society, there were many half-giant blooded individuals. Although not as tall and strong as their leader, they were still superior to ordinary people. The “Noble Red” in their Society’s name hinted at their noble bloodline.
Modern Avalon had no nobles, but was ruled by knights. Although the Royal Family could knight knights, they generally held little real power. They could only indirectly influence the Round Table Hall by developing new knights loyal to the Royal Family… However, the practical influence of the Royal Family over the new knight class was far inferior to that of merchants. The new generation of knight families, with only power that needed to be controlled by others, lacking heritage and money, were easily influenced by their sponsors.
Professor Moriarty, Edward’s foster father, was in this business.
Among the old generation of knight families, some were prosperous, and some were in decline. The latter were willing to accept sponsorship, while others were not.
Some prided themselves on their nobility, fundamentally different from the new knights who came from commoners; others were tired of the endless bickering in the Round Table Hall and the invisible hands pulling strings from outside the Hall; some were greedy enough to want to turn the tables, break free from the merchants’ financial control, and seize their wealth directly.
Despite their differing stances, these people had a common demand.
—That is, to restore aristocratic rule.
Therefore, in addition to the Star Antimony people, there were some ministers on Glass Island who secretly supported the Noble Red Society.
Edward had no feelings for Avalon. He didn’t care about Avalon, nor Arctorus.
He was an orphan who used to wander the streets, then became a “Moriarty.” Later, he graduated with excellent grades and joined the Inspection Department directly, responsible for monitoring suspected knights, investigating officials suspected of corruption, and screening spies from other countries.
In this process, he had seen too much ugliness completely different from his boyhood imagination. The law maintained not justice and morality, but the authority of the Round Table Hall—or even not the authority of the Silver and Tin Hall.
Compared to the knights, repaying Moriarty for his upbringing was obviously more important.
Edward had also asked his foster father before which side they would stand on.
But Old James’s answer was: “You stand on my side, Edward.”
Edward was now fortunate that the Sweater Brotherhood had no connection with the people behind the Pelican Bar. Otherwise, he didn’t know how he would stop Sherlock’s persistent investigation.
His old friend was too intelligent and too sensitive.
Any hesitation or evasion on his part regarding the truth would likely be detected by him.
Edward had few friends—very few.
He didn’t want to lose a dear friend again one day.
—Fortunately, this was the wrong direction of investigation.
“I don’t know who provided this… but thank you. You continue to investigate in this direction, Sherlock.”
Edward thought to himself.
Give this bored great detective something to do. This would also prevent him from having too much free time and going back to investigate the Pelican Bar.
Thinking this, his heart suddenly stirred.
He still had another case on his hands—considering the safety of the commoners and his family, this matter needed to be handled quickly. After all, they did not side with the Noble Red Society, but aimed to maintain a balance.
Thus, Edward opened his mouth, “Perhaps not entirely unrelated.
“I just remembered something else. Recently, the Inspection Department has been investigating a case codenamed ‘Red Stone.’
“A batch of high-power, small-volume portable Alchemical Bombs was smuggled into Avalon from the direction of the Pelican Bar. The Inspection Department suspects that the buyer might be high-ranking within the kingdom. But no matter how portable they are, they can’t be kept at home. One is unsafe, and the other is easily discovered.
“If they haven’t been transferred yet, they should be in the Lloyd District right now. You said the Sweater Brotherhood’s base is an abandoned chemical plant, so it’s reasonable for them to be stored here…”
As Edward said this, he suddenly sensed something.
He heard someone’s heartbeat.
And Sherlock, a moment later, also seemed to sense something and immediately looked up.
Blue and white radiance flowed in his pupils, and Sherlock issued a command without hesitation: “[Stasis]!”
Brilliant radiance, like a new star, surged from his body, spreading in all directions.
In the corner behind him, an assassin who had been crouching there was suddenly forced out of invisibility, his entire body covered in white light, like a stone statue.
He broke free from the restraint half a second later.
Sensing that the binding force was not strong, the assassin’s eyes immediately turned fierce. The dagger in his hand flicked and was gripped firmly.
He crouched slightly, his body re-entering the shadows. He wanted to rush forward to assassinate Sherlock first and then escape quickly.
However, the assassin’s heart suddenly trembled violently, and an intense sense of crisis washed over him—
“—[Apprehend].”
Edward issued a cold command.
Two pure white triangles materialized out of thin air at the wrists of the re-cloaked assassin, followed by a great magnetic force that attracted and bound his hands together. The assassin, who had been rushing forward rapidly, was thrown off balance by the force and stumbled, almost falling. However, the poisoned dagger, unable to be wielded due to his tightened wrists, clattered to the ground.
Then, two triangles arranged in a Hexagram flew upwards, parallel to the ground… suspending the assassin in mid-air.
So lucky. I actually hit the mark.
Thinking this, a rare smile appeared on Edward’s lips.
He slowly approached the restrained assassin, who looked panicked.
“The fish has been caught, Hermes.
“I’m going to make my move… remember to cover your ears.”
“No need. I’m not some innocent young girl. Besides, these Strangler Gang members will be sent to the Hanging Square sooner or later.”
Sherlock said calmly, his arms crossed, “I asked you to bring a handkerchief because I had already anticipated this scene. After all, it’s not convenient for me to act… but you are from the Inspection Department and have the authority for temporary execution.
“I’m more curious. Your subordinates—I remember there was a young girl who greatly admired you, right? Has she seen you search a criminal’s memories?”
“What do you think the Inspection Department does, Hermes? We do much dirtier work than this.”
Edward scoffed.
“Then I was really lucky back then, not joining you in the Inspection Department.”
Sherlock said lazily, “I just thought you were a leader in the Inspection Department, so you wouldn’t need to go on missions.”
“I also worked my way up from the front lines, Mr. Hermes. And I’m not exactly a big leader. I can’t say more about other things; they are still under confidentiality—in three more years, I can tell you what my first mission was.”
As he spoke, he slowly pulled out his white handkerchief from his chest pocket and slowly approached.
The shadow cast by his tall figure and his slow, steady movements were terrifying.
“N-no… I’ll talk, I’ll tell you everything… Spare my life…”
The Strangler, who had a Path Adaptation, had a surprisingly young voice.
“I can’t spare you, petty thief. You’re going to die sooner or later.”
Edward said coldly, “How many people have you killed? Five? Six?
“You thought no one could detect you, you thought you cleverly buried the evidence…”
He slowly unfolded the white handkerchief soaked in anesthetic potion and pressed it firmly onto the assassin’s face.
Allowing his muffled struggling grunts to be heard.
The next moment, brilliant white radiance overflowed from Edward’s pupils. Five runes extended from the fingers gripping the assassin’s cheek, rapidly tracing the skin of the assassin’s head, making even his greasy black curly hair glow.
“—Law Grants Me Necessary Search Rights.”
Edward solemnly declared.
Accompanied by muffled screams from being covered by the handkerchief, several grayish-white wisps of smoke floated out of the assassin’s features, and Edward slowly inhaled them.
Finally, he let go and released the restraint of “[Law: Apprehend].”
The assassin’s corpse fell powerlessly to the ground. Blood slowly seeped from the handkerchief stuck to his face. Where the handkerchief didn’t cover, the white runes on his throat, behind his ears, and on the top of his head gradually extinguished.
Edward did not retrieve his white handkerchief.
Anyway, his Soul Searching Spell could only be used once a day, and his face, covered by the handkerchief, could indicate that this person had already been “searched.”
“We found the right place, Hermes—at least partially. The Sweater Brotherhood is indeed connected to the Noble Red Society, you were right.
“—One batch of Alchemical Bombs is currently stored in this abandoned chemical plant.”