Margarita, in her blonde-haired form—now known as Mary—spread the planning document across the table in Constance’s room. The six members of the action group gathered around the table, with Lovell standing right by Margarita’s side.
“Everyone has a role for this scouting mission involving the President and me,” Margarita said, pulling out the topographic map she had drawn. “Since we don’t know how many people the Sacrosanct Circle has in Arlan, I’ve decided to split us into three groups.”
“Regarding the President and myself,” Margarita pointed to herself, “I’ve used a disguise to enter the Anchor and Cup with her. Regardless of whether the Grey in the tavern is the real deal or a fake, they’re bound to concentrate most of their focus and personnel there. Some of the Sacrosanct Circle members in Arlan are from the Diestwald family; they won’t recognize me, but they’ll certainly know the President. Since I’ll be close to her and our hair colors are similar, they’ll naturally jump to the intended conclusion.”
“Next, Joshua and Lovell,” Margarita glanced at Lovell with a touch of guilt, but seeing that the girl remained expressionless, she pulled her gaze back. “Based on the attack at the academy, the Sacrosanct Circle clearly has a portrait of Lovell. Therefore, I need the two of you to wander aimlessly around Arlan to divide their attention. If the Sacrosanct Circle tries to abduct Lovell, Joshua is one of our strongest combatants, and Lovell herself is quite capable. Plus, a smaller target is harder to track.”
She then looked at Patrick, Irene, and Erica. “I just asked the President, and it turns out there’s an Anchor Detector in the Windermere Manor’s warehouse. I need the three of you to search for spatial anchors around the outskirts of Arlan. They might not exist, but your presence will also help distract them.”
“To summarize: the Tavern Group will be at the Anchor and Cup in the south of the city; the Strolling Group, Lovell and Joshua, will be everywhere except the south; and the Perimeter Group, Patrick and the others, will search for anchors on the outskirts. Any questions?”
Constance tapped the table. “What about task priority?”
“The top priority is confirming Grey’s safety. If the Tavern Group is exposed, the Strolling Group must immediately converge for support. The Perimeter Group’s anchors are the lowest priority—if you find one, mark it and do not engage on your own.” Margarita peeked at Lovell again. “Any... any other questions?”
“Yes!” Patrick raised his hand. “Can’t I join the strolling?”
“You’d only hold them back,” Margarita said ruthlessly. “Out of ten matches against Joshua at the training grounds, you lose nine.”
“Damn it! That’s just because Joshua’s Battle Qi is a bad match for mine!”
“Don’t think your job is easy,” Margarita said, tapping the table. “Erica and Irene haven’t done any close-combat training. What if they’re ambushed? If they get hurt, I’ll—”
Margarita reached for the small of her back.
“No, no, no, Consultant! My mistake!”
“What about you?” Lovell’s voice sounded beside her.
“Me?” Margarita blinked. “What about... what about me?”
“What happens if you get hurt?”
“The President is with me,” Margarita said, squeezing Lovell’s hand. “And I promised you: when I return, I’ll tell you everything that happened today.”
Lovell’s little canine teeth finally peeked out.
“Fine,” she said, turning to slap Joshua on the shoulder. “I’ll give you a proper tour of Arlan and spend every last bit of Little Mari’s funds!”
At least leave me a little...
“Irene, Erica, how about you?” Margarita sighed and looked at the two across from her.
“No issues here,” Erica shook her head. “I’ll assist Irene with the detector.”
Irene raised her hand. “I suggest we move as soon as possible. I don’t know if the detector from the President’s family operates the same way as the one at school. I need time to familiarize myself with it.”
“Right,” Margarita clapped her hands. “Everyone, move out.”
...
Margarita and Constance walked deep into the alleys of the city’s southern district. The alleys were narrow and deep, with dripping fishing nets hung out to dry and the occasional cat leaping across a windowsill. Constance was half a step ahead, her pace steady; even the shadows of the alley didn’t slow her down.
Margarita was still wearing her white dress. She hadn’t worn her wide-brimmed hat today, but she carried a small mint green shoulder bag, where her silver pistol lay quietly inside.
She maintained the dignified smile of a noble lady, though the corners of her mouth twitched occasionally—maintaining this expression was much harder than she had imagined. The tear mole on her face was hidden by beauty cream, but the makeup made her features appear even more delicate, her golden Princess Braid swaying behind her.
Constance would occasionally glance at her, observing the expression on her young consultant’s face.
“If you stay quiet, you actually do resemble a noble lady.”
“Oh yeah! I’ve been approved by Big Sister!” Margarita’s poise immediately collapsed.
“I said, if you stay quiet.”
...
Rounding a corner, the street Lovell had described appeared before them.
The street wasn't particularly wide and was paved with several old stone slabs. Shops lined both sides: a bakery, a tailor shop, and an old tavern with a weathered sign hanging by the door.
A ship’s anchor and a cup were painted on the sign.
They had arrived.
The tavern wasn't open yet, and the only sign of life was a dark slit where a second-floor window was cracked. Margarita stood at the exit of the alley, her gaze scanning both sides of the street.
“One at the tailor shop, one at the bakery,” Constance’s voice came from beside her. “The one at the tailor shop has an empty bowl by his feet.”
Margarita followed her gaze. A young man was squatting on the steps of the tailor shop, whittling a wooden stick, with an empty bowl indeed sitting by his feet. At the bakery door sat an old man in a grey robe, with a basket of leftover hard bread before him, leaning against the wall as if dozing off.
“The one whittling wood is holding his knife the way one grips a dagger,” Constance said, tilting her chin toward the tailor shop. “He’s no woodworker.”
“And the bread seller—the way those loaves are arranged in the basket is wrong. Something is being pressed underneath them.”
Margarita narrowed her eyes; the distance was a bit far, and she couldn’t see very clearly.
She turned her head to look at Constance.
“...Sister?”
“The Northern Frontier Defense Line is always short on scouts,” Constance’s gaze didn’t leave the street. “I began patrolling the border at fifteen. I only came to the academy later.”
Margarita pulled her gaze back and looked at the tavern once more.
“Two lookouts,” a faint pink shimmer flickered by Constance’s ear. “If Lovell had just walked in, she would have had several tails following her when she came out.”
Constance looked at her.
“We’ll split up. You keep watch from the front, President,” Margarita said, backing into the alley. “I’ll check the back alley.”
“If there’s a lookout in the back alley, you won’t be able to run.”
Margarita’s figure suddenly vanished before Constance’s eyes.
“Sister~ I am a top student of the Magic Department, after all. Spells like Invisibility are second nature to me.”
A gust of wind brushed past Constance, carrying the faint scent of flowers from Margarita as it slipped into the alley across the street, heading toward the back of the tavern.
Rate on N.U.
