KamiKowa: That Time I Got Transmigrated With A Broken Goddess-Chapter 204: [] The Needle Spins

She casually tilted her head toward the corner table, where three people sat hunched over mugs of ale. A gray-haired woman with a scar across her cheek. A thin man with ink-stained fingers. And a robust merchant whose clothes were just a touch too fine for this establishment.

"There’s word from the north," the merchant was saying, his voice low but carrying. "White Ravens on the move."

"Inquisitor’s not far behind," the scarred woman replied. "Three villages searched in the past week."

"Looking for the hermit?" the thin man asked.

The woman nodded. "The one who sees what the Court doesn’t want seen."

"Fool should’ve kept his mouth shut," the merchant said. "You don’t go around prophesying the Winter Court’s downfall and expect to live long."

Naomi kept her face impassive, but beneath the table, she pressed her foot against Xavier’s to signal he should listen.

"They say he’s hiding in the old library ruins," the woman continued. "Where the Collapse happened."

"Then he’s dead already," the thin man said. "No one survives there long. The magic’s too unstable."

"Unless he understands it," the merchant countered. "Man’s supposed to be brilliant. Cracked the old codes from before the Eternal Winter."

The scarred woman snorted. "Brilliant or not, the Inquisitor will find him. He always does."

Naomi sipped her ale, which tasted like it had been filtered through old boots, and leaned toward Xavier. "Nolan," she whispered. "Has to be."

Xavier nodded slightly, keeping his eyes on his drink as instructed.

"What’s a White Raven?" Margaret asked quietly.

"Winter Court spies," Calypso answered before Naomi could. When they all looked at her, she shrugged. "I’ve been reading Selene’s memories. They’re elite scouts, chosen for their loyalty and cruelty."

"And this Inquisitor?" Xavier asked.

"The Court’s hunter," Calypso said. "He tracks down those who spread ’false hope’ about the winter ending."

Their serving girl returned with a platter of what might generously be called stew. As she set it down, Naomi caught her wrist gently.

"The ruins they mentioned," Naomi said softly. "Where are they?"

The girl tensed, glancing around nervously. "Don’t know what you’re talking about."

Naomi placed a silver coin on the table. The girl’s eyes widened, then narrowed suspiciously.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Academic interest," Naomi said. "We’re scholars."

The girl snorted. "With those weapons? Try again."

Naomi added another coin. "Family business."

"The ruins are cursed," the girl said, still not taking the money. "Anyone who goes there ends up mad or dead."

"We’ll take our chances," Xavier said.

The girl studied him, then surprised them by pushing the coins back. "Keep your silver. I don’t want your blood on my hands." She leaned closer. "But if you’re really set on going, talk to Old Ren at the stables. He knows the safe paths."

She straightened and walked away, leaving them staring after her.

"Well," Margaret said. "That was ominous."

"But useful," Xavier replied.

A hush fell over the tavern. The door had opened, bringing with it a gust of cold air and a man who seemed to absorb all light around him.

He stood over six feet tall, his armor pristine white with silver accents that caught the tavern’s dim light. No hood or helmet covered his head, revealing close-cropped white hair and a face that might have been handsome if not for its utter lack of warmth. A silver insignia on his breastplate depicted a snowflake surrounding an eye.

The Inquisitor.

Two White Ravens flanked him, their uniforms simpler but no less intimidating. The tavern’s patrons found sudden interest in their drinks, conversations dying mid-sentence.

"Don’t stare," Naomi breathed, focusing on her bowl.

The Inquisitor’s boots clicked on the wooden floor as he moved through the room. He stopped at several tables, exchanging quiet words with patrons who looked as if they’d rather be anywhere else.

Under the table, Naomi felt Xavier tense beside her. His hand had moved to his dagger, though he kept it sheathed.

The Inquisitor paused at the information brokers’ table. The merchant paled visibly.

"Merchant Kalin," the Inquisitor said, his voice surprisingly soft. "Still trading in... goods?"

"Yes, Lord Inquisitor," the merchant stammered. "Just textiles and spices."

"And information, it seems." The Inquisitor smiled, an expression that never reached his eyes. "I wonder what tales you’ve been spinning today."

"None of consequence, Lord Inquisitor. Just gossip and—"

"Lies spread like disease, Merchant Kalin. They infect weak minds with false hope." The Inquisitor placed a gloved hand on the merchant’s shoulder, causing the man to flinch. "I would hate to think you were contributing to such... unhealthy thoughts."

"Never, Lord Inquisitor."

The Inquisitor’s gaze swept the room, lingering briefly on their table. Naomi kept her eyes down, but she felt his attention like ice water down her spine.

"Remember, good people of Dustfall," he announced to the room. "Truth is cold and eternal, like winter itself. Falsehoods are warm and comforting, but they burn out quickly—along with those who spread them."

He turned and left, his Ravens following in perfect sync. The door closed behind them, and the tavern remained silent for several long seconds before conversations slowly resumed.

Xavier pulled something from his pocket beneath the table—the Resonance Compass. Naomi glanced down and froze. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

The needle, previously dormant, now spun wildly, its crystal face glowing bright blue.

"Nolan," Xavier whispered. "He’s close."

"And so is the man hunting him," Margaret added.

Calypso’s eyes gleamed with something between excitement and concern. "The library ruins. That’s where we’ll find him."

Naomi looked around the tavern, at the fearful faces and hunched shoulders, at the different factions eyeing each other with suspicion, at the empty space where the Inquisitor had stood.

They’d walked right into the middle of a cold war fought with whispers and knives in the dark. And somewhere in this powder keg of a town was Nolan—not just their friend, but apparently a prophet spreading exactly the kind of hope the Winter Court wanted to extinguish.

"We need to find him tonight," Naomi said. "Before the Inquisitor does."

Xavier nodded, slipping the compass back into his pocket. "I’ll get word to Ashley. We’re not staying the night after all."

"So much for our quiet rescue mission," Margaret sighed.

"Nothing about this was ever going to be quiet," Calypso said, her eyes on the door where the Inquisitor had exited. "Not when we’re trying to tear down winter itself."