C87: Under the sanctuary ground

Arnold stood in front of the church, his white flock coat fluttering lightly in the breeze. The fabric caught the sunlight, its clean lines standing out against the dusty ground below.

“Arnold!”

“Master Arnold! Look at me!”

Unlike before, a crowd of children rushed toward him the moment he appeared. Their faces were bright, and openly delighted.

Despite the unsettling bandages wrapped around his head, their attitude toward him had clearly changed after Isa played with them yesterday.

Some tugged at his sleeves, others waved enthusiastically, and a few simply followed him closely, staring as if he were something novel and exciting.

It took Arnold a noticeable amount of time to navigate through the sea of small, grabby hands to finally step inside the church.

“What? Mary and Otis have gone missing?”

Inside the church schoolroom, Arnold explained everything he knew to Victor.

The priest’s eyes widened. He took a reflexive step toward Arnold, reaching out as if to steady himself by the boy's shoulders with a surprising force.

Yet, just as suddenly, he released him and stepped back.

“My apologies.” Victor coughed into a silk handkerchief.

His face contorted for a brief moment, and he rubbed the bridge of his nose as if he had caught an unpleasant scent.

He took a deliberate step back before speaking, his voice regaining its practiced concern.

“Did Sir find any clue as to their whereabouts?”

Arnold shook his head. “I have not.” He raised his gaze and looked directly into Victor’s eyes. “Do you have any thoughts on where they might have gone, Father?”

Victor shook his head.

“My sincerest apologies. Young Otis did indeed remain for practice until late yesterday afternoon. I personally saw the lad off, so I could not say where his path led after leaving these grounds.”

The priest paced back and forth, one hand pressed to his forehead, his brows knitted tightly. The leather shoes clicked rhythmically against the stone floor.

“As for Mary, she was absent from her lessons yesterday. I have not seen her since.”

Arnold nodded. He already knew this. He had been present during class yesterday, after all.

Suddenly, Victor stopped his pacing. His eyes opened wide.

“Come to think of it, I recall something.”

Arnold raised an eyebrow.

“What is it, Father?”

“Lumber? I remember now. Lumber Smith walked the boy home yesterday. Perhaps Sir might inquire with him?”

“!”

Lumber?

A jolt of electricity surged through Arnold’s mind.

“Since Master Lumber and Miss Opal reside near one another and are known to be close, it was not at all unusual for him to escort the lad back,” Victor continued.

A cold bead of sweat trickled down Arnold’s spine.

‘Don’t tell me…’

Before Arnold could respond or sort through the implications, Victor suddenly bowed his head.

“I thank you sir for bringing this grave matter to my attention. I shall begin a search of the sanctified grounds immediately.”

Victor stepped forward and, with a surprising amount of force, placed his hands on Arnold’s shoulders to guide him toward the exit.

“Wait, what are—”

Arnold’s words died in his throat. Although Victor appeared to be nothing more than a mild, middle-aged priest, his strength was unexpectedly strong! Strong enough that Arnold could not resist being pushed outside!

“I shall attempt a rite of seeking here. It may prove… dangerous. I must ask you sir to leave this place!” Victor said urgently, shutting the heavy door directly in Arnold’s face.

“…”

Arnold stared at the closed door.

‘Mmm. surely not suspicious at all.’

Arnold walked down the stone church steps, the afternoon sun feeling cold.

He could no longer sense Victor through his Field Vision, since the church’s enclosed structure had blocked his perception.

‘Agent Isa has successfully infiltrated the enemy’s quarters!’

But he didn’t need to worry too much, since he had his trustworthy agent Isa by his side!

‘Ehehe >w<’

‘Be careful in there, Isa.’

‘Roger! Boss!’

Izzy sighed and shook her head. Roleplaying with Isa was not the issue. The real problem was that it steadily drained her mental stamina.

Engaging in these games with her young mind was exhausting, yet it was the only way to keep Isa focused on the task at hand.

While Arnold had been distracting Victor with conversation, Izzy had directed the small, puppet-marked mouse hidden within his coat to slip out and vanish beneath the benches of the schoolroom.

She had initially suspected Victor might know something. Or even that he was the culprit and deliberately withholding information.

But the information he had was more helpful than expected.

“Is it the truth, or false information to divert my attention?”

Izzy didn't know yet. But one thing remained undeniable.

‘Lumber. He knows something.’

He might even be the culprit who kidnapped Otis.

‘The question is…why? Why would he do that?’

Did Izzy need to find out what he was hiding?

Why was she wasting time doing this?

“This is such a headache.”

Controlling Arnold, Izzy lifted her gaze toward the east, toward the distant line of trees, and grimaced.

‘Round and round, and I still have to go into that forest.’

—

Inside the church, as Victor walked through the dim interior, a small mouse moved silently behind him.

To avoid detection, especially after what had happened with Benjamin, Isa was careful. She did not follow too closely. Instead, she guided the mouse to remain hidden behind benches, always keeping Victor within a distance of roughly ten to fifteen meters.

That was the limit of their Field Vision, a distance that allowed her to observe without the risk of him sensing her presence.

Victor soon bypassed the main altar and walked into the small chamber flanked by the side of the schoolroom, the sanctuary room.

‘...’

Izzy, in spectator mode, rolled her eyes when she noticed the statue.

‘Ah. This narcissistic guy.’ Standing tall at the center was a statue of Pope Alan. The very man who had engraved his own likeness onto the Alan coin.

Izzy stroked her chin.

‘Interesting. So they even make a statue of a pope.’

‘He’s so cool!’

The statue depicted an aged yet solemn man with angular features. His expression was stern and unwavering, carved with precision.

He wore a cassock beneath a flowing cape draped over his shoulders. A large cross necklace hung prominently at his chest. Upon his head rested an exquisite mitre hat, intricately detailed with engraved patterns.

In one hand, the statue held a long staff topped with a cross pointing skyward. The other hand grasped an ornate orb crowned with a small cross, a Globus cruciger. Resting against his right arm was a crown, symbolizing dominion and authority.

On his chest was an emblem formed by three rings. The innermost ring bore a small crown symbol at the lower left. The middle ring displayed a cross at the lower right. The outermost ring showed an orb hovering above the head, completing the triune symbolism of rule, faith, and world.

That was what Izzy guessed from the ring's symbol.

“A statue of the pope in the Church of White does make sense,” Izzy muttered internally.

Victor, in direct contradiction to his earlier worried and anxious demeanor, now wore a face that was very calm and composed.

He walked straight toward the statue without hesitation.

With one smooth motion, he reached out and grasped the lower part of the long staff the statue was holding. With practiced ease, he rotated it.

“!”

All of a sudden, the ground vibrated.

A low rumble spread through the sanctuary room. Behind the statue, a section of the stone floor shifted. The slab slid aside slowly, grinding against hidden mechanisms, revealing a pitch-black staircase leading downward.

‘Izzy! A secret passage!’

‘…’

There was a secret passage in the church? Izzy’s thoughts raced.

It might make sense, if this passage was for emergencies. But why would Victor need to run through a secret passage in this situation?

Suspicion welled up in her. Unless, he had something to hide down there… just like Benjamin, a hidden prison.

‘Is he the culprit?’ Izzy knit her brow. But why would a priest kidnap children?

Secret ritual? Again?

Was he the rumoured ‘monster’?

And why did secret passages keep appearing everywhere she went? Had she encountered them too many times? A hidden basement prison. A concealed space behind a dining room wall. And now this?

Did people of this era have an obsession with secret rooms?

‘So many… Why are there so many secrets!’

As Victor descended the pitch-black staircase hidden behind the statue, Isa, controlling the mouse, lingered at the upper edge and peeked downward.

‘Mmm’

This secret passage was smaller than Izzy had expected. She had imagined a secret door leading to a space the size of the prison cells, like in the mansion’s basement.

Yet, down there was just a small room.

The mouse slowly jumped down the narrow stone steps. The staircase itself was cramped, only wide enough for one adult to pass through comfortably. The walls pressed in close, their surfaces uneven. Moss clung to the crevices, the air smelled stale, like a sealed drawer.

Soon enough, just by the midpoint of the stairs, Isa had already mapped the whole room at the bottom

with her Field Vision.

It was a small room, with a bookshelf flanking one wall, its shelves sagging under the weight of old tomes and rolled parchments.

In the center was a wooden table, cluttered with documents, ledgers, loose pages, and stacked books. Some were neatly arranged, others looked hastily spread out.

‘This is just a study…’

A secret study?

Isa guided the mouse the rest of the way down, its tiny body hopping carefully from step to step, whiskers twitching.

‘Izzy, should we continue?’

Izzy tapped her chin for a moment, then shook her head.

‘No. Mission aborted. Return to the surface, Isa.’

‘Roger!’

Isa gave the room one last glance, and turned the mouse around and began ascending the stairs.

But the moment the mouse leapt up a step… Isa noticed movement in her Field Vision.

‘!’

Eyes.

‘W-what?’

Many eyes.

Many eyes shone.

Violet eyes, countless pinpricks of violet light scattered across the ceiling like a star-filled sky!

‘Bats!’

It was bats. A whole colony of bats on the ceiling!

They clinging upside down, their membranous wings folded tight against their bodies.

The moment Isa regained her senses, the colony swirled into a vortex and swooped down on their mouse puppet!

‘N-no!’

Isa took control of the small creature and frantically ran down, yet it was futile.

The bats descended in a violent rush. Fangs sank into the mouse’s tiny body, as Isa's connection to it snapped.

‘No, Mr.Kaiser!’ Isa screamed inside the shared mind, her voice breaking, grief flooding through her.

‘?’

Izzy raised her eyebrow.

‘Kaiser?’

‘It was his name. My poor Kaiser, hic…’ Isa sniffed miserably, curling in on herself as Izzy reached out and stroked her head.

A name for a mouse? Really now?

Izzy chose not to comment. She ignored the grieving young mind for now and noted the important details in her mind.

‘There must be something important in that place.’

A secret study beneath the sanctuary.

Victor had gone down there immediately after hearing about Mary. In the brief glimpse through the mouse’s Field Vision, he had been clearly searching for something on the table.

‘That must be a clue to these missing cases.’ Izzy thought.

From a psychological perspective, he must want to find something related, maybe a past case of disappearance, or to confirm something about the situation.

Or… he wanted to communicate with someone, just like what Benjamin had done.

However, the chance of it wasn’t high. She had not noticed any strange statues, idols, or strange ritual circles down there.

‘...’

Since the intruder had only been a mouse, there was no way Victor would suspect Arnold. After all, it was just a mouse.

That was a relief in and of itself. Her choice of that one as a scout had worked perfectly. Izzy would forever remember its service; its sacrifice would be forever etched into the monument.

‘Good work, soldier. May you rest in eternal peace.’ Izzy solemnly prayed.

“I-Izzy!”

‘Pfft.’

‘It’s Mr.Kaiser…’

Right, it was “Kaiser.” Izzy facepalmed. As promised, she proceeded to note its name in the monument within their mindscape.

At any rate, she would revisit the church within the Theatre later.

‘For now—’

Arnold stood motionless at the edge of the village, his gaze fixed on the forest ahead.

This time, it was not for returning to the mansion, but for finding Mary.

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