Chapter 173: The Accusation

“Senior!”

Muen jolted awake with a terrified cry.

The moon, the cultists, the knights, the Silencers—all of it had vanished. Only the pale blue curtains swayed gently in the breeze, and beside the bed sat that familiar silver-haired girl, slicing an apple with sharp sword-like precision.

This was clearly a hospital room. The girl beside him was Celicia.

“Want some?”

Celicia placed the perfectly peeled apple in front of him. This time, she didn’t cut it into pieces—she gave him the whole thing.

But Muen didn’t take it. He simply stared into her eyes and asked, seriously:

“Where’s Senior?”

“In prison.”

“Which one?”

“Third Branch Detention Facility of the Silence Bureau.”

“I want to see her!”

“Impossible.”

Seeing he wasn’t eating, Celicia calmly used the fruit knife to cut a small slice for herself and popped it into her mouth.

Sweet juice spilled across her tongue. The high sugar content softened her usually icy features.

“Not possible. No one is allowed to visit a detained cultist—not even me.”

“Senior isn’t a cultist!”

“I know she’s not. But she’s about to become one.”

“Why?”

“You really don’t know? Or are you just lying to yourself?”

Celicia gave him a sidelong glance, then lowered her gaze and kept slicing the apple.

“You saw it, didn’t you? Back then.”

“Saw what?”

“The scales.”

“...Scales don’t mean anything. Some people with special bloodlines, or those who carry dragon blood, even mermaids from the southern seas—they all have scales.”

“But those were snake scales.”

“So what if they were?!”

“Snake scales do mean something.”

Celicia’s voice turned soft, almost pitying.

“Snakes are the Moon’s favored kin.”

“......”

That one light sentence seemed to drain all the strength from Muen’s body. He fell back against the pillow, staring up at the pale ceiling, feeling as though the blood was slowly draining from his veins.

His heart... grew cold.

“So... it really is snake transformation disease?”

“Without a doubt.”

“There’s no chance of misdiagnosis?”

“You’d have to ask the Silence Bureau. But with their level of expertise, that chance is very, very slim.”

“Shit.”

Muen cursed—not even sure who he was cursing.

“Why did it have to be snake transformation...”

Any other illness wouldn’t have frightened Muen. As the son of a duke, he had access to the finest medical resources in the empire.

With powerful healing magic and precise alchemical devices, nearly every disease in this world could be cured.

Except this one.

Because its source... came from an Evil God.

It was a unique contamination method of the Silent Moon—scattering the seeds of disaster among mortals, choosing rare compatible hosts.

And once that seed took root, it would grow and slowly consume them.

Its outward manifestation: serpentification.

Snake scales, serpent eyes—those afflicted with the disease would gradually develop serpent traits, until they were no longer human, but a different race entirely. A new being: a serpent-person.

And just as Celicia said... snakes were the Moon’s kin.

Serpent-people were naturally drawn to lunar faith and were often used as the Silent Moon’s agents of catastrophe.

That was why Celicia said Anna was about to become a cultist.

Serpentification couldn’t be reversed. And there was no known cure.

At least, according to the source material Muen had read, there was no recorded case of someone being cured.

“What’ll happen to her?”

“According to Bureau protocol, if she’s never harmed anyone, she’ll probably be sent to an isolated prison island in the southern sea. Her powers will be sealed, and she’ll be imprisoned there for life.”

“That’s horrible.”

“At least she’ll be alive. But for Anna Kaplin, that’s far from easy.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s about to face a very serious accusation.”

The apple was gone. Celicia wiped the blade with a handkerchief, then casually tossed a stack of documents onto Muen’s lap.

He flipped through them quickly—and the chill in his chest instantly turned into rage.

The documents stated one thing clearly: that as a patient of snake transformation disease—i.e., a future serpent-person—Anna Kaplin had been identified as the prime suspect in the murder of Tyke Rodd.

Not only that—she was also suspected in several other heart-extraction cases over the past six months, believed to be the true identity behind the urban legend: the Heart-Digging Banshee.

“No way!”

Muen slammed the papers down in fury.

“Murder? Digging out hearts? Senior would never do something like that!”

“I know it’s hard to believe. But the truth of an incident can’t be decided by gut feeling alone.”

“Then what evidence do they have?!”

“One of the late-stage symptoms of snake transformation is a shift in mentality. Their thoughts begin to align with serpent-people. For them, the heart of the opposite sex becomes an almost irresistible compulsion.”

“...Hearts...”

Muen suddenly remembered that prophetic dream—but quickly pushed it aside and pressed on:

“Even so, that doesn’t prove it was her! She’s not the only serpent-person!”

“Of course. I want her to be innocent. But right now, all the clues point to her.”

“Clues?”

“I never paid much attention to the academy until I started hearing rumors about the Heart-Digging Banshee. That’s when I started noticing certain details.”

Celicia spoke quietly:

“Tyke Rodd was a count’s son. Normally, he’d have no reason to go to the Lower City. But our investigation found he’d been invited there—by someone. Only the dead know who, but we confirmed it happened the day before Open House.”

“That proves nothing.”

“It suggests that the killer is likely the person who invited him. And if he wasn’t meeting anyone outside the academy, then the killer is likely from the academy.”

“But...”

Muen’s face went pale.

“That still doesn’t prove—”

“Let’s ignore, for a moment, how unlikely it is that two serpent-people just happened to infiltrate the school at the same time. As student council president, I don’t want Anna to be the killer. That’s why I filed a formal request with the Silence Bureau last night, asking them to investigate.”

She handed him another document.

Only now did Muen notice the faint black circles under her eyes—the red veins barely hidden behind her long silver lashes.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“You’ve got no right to thank me,” Celicia replied coldly.

Muen gave a bitter smile and opened the file.

Then—whatever color had returned to his face drained away once again.

“This... what is this?”

“It’s true. Anna Kaplin refused to disclose her whereabouts on the first day of Open House,” Celicia sighed.

She had wanted to prove Anna’s innocence. But this unexpected outcome only buried her deeper.

“But... maybe she had something private...”

“I don’t believe anything could be more important than defending yourself from a murder accusation. Especially one involving stolen hearts. Refusing to answer under these circumstances—it reeks of guilt.”

“But there’s no proof. There’s no proof...”

Muen murmured weakly, “Without evidence, she can’t be convicted... she...”

“Muen.”

Celicia’s voice lowered. Her tone grew heavy.

“Presumption of innocence only applies to ordinary people.”

“...What does that mean?”

“Serpent-people are still classified under cultist category. They’re hated. Feared. The laws of the empire barely protect them.”

She looked down. A rare note of helplessness in her voice.

“Count Rodd’s been camped outside the Bureau’s third branch all day. He wants the woman who killed his son burned immediately.”

“Count Rodd? He dares? How dare he—!”

Muen’s face twisted in rage. He slammed a °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° fist on the bed frame.

A mere count—how dare he—

But then his fist slowly lowered. The fury fizzled like water on fire.

Because from the document... Count Rodd wasn’t a villain. Just a grieving father.

What right did he have to curse him?

Just like his own rage right now... the man’s actions were understandable.

“But one thing you can rest assured of—the Silence Bureau is an independent imperial organization for dealing with evil gods. It holds almost unlimited authority. Even I can’t interfere. They won’t be swayed by Count Rodd. They’ll do everything in their power to uncover the truth. Also—those two cultists you encountered... the Silencers have already begun hunting them. I’m sure we’ll have results soon.”

“Thank you.”

“I told you—you have no right to thank me.”

Celicia stood gracefully. Today, she wasn’t wearing her student council uniform—but a simple white dress.

The pale light from the window passed through the curtains, casting a soft fog-like glow over her.

“Rest well. I have other matters to attend to.”

“Yeah. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

Muen lay in bed, dazed.

By the clock, he had slept for over twenty hours—but he still felt exhausted.

Maybe it wasn’t his body, but his soul.

He didn’t get up to walk her out. He just watched that white mist drift out the door.

“Your Highness!”

Suddenly, a breeze swept in. Celicia’s skirt flared like mist parting. Her icy face came back into view.

A knight in silver plate armor kicked the door open, sweat pouring from his brow, urgency in every step. He had no time for decorum—he hadn’t even knocked.

He handed her a document.

“Urgent message from the Silence Bureau!”

“Urgent? Has there been progress on the case?”

Celicia frowned and quickly opened it.

As her eyes scanned the page, her cool expression faltered—for once, showing visible shock.

“What happened?” Muen asked, alarmed by her reaction.

Celicia dismissed the knight. Then she turned to Muen, staring intently at him.

For a long moment, she said nothing—like weighing how to speak.

When even Muen began to sense something was wrong, and a growing dread filled his heart—

She finally drew a breath.

And said softly:

“The third branch of the Silence Bureau was attacked by cultists. The prison was breached. Anna Kaplin... has been taken.”