The Villainess Returns with a System-Chapter 120: Meeting Al-Kabal

Amos Morgan’s warm smile was familiar, yet he appeared more worn than before. Still, he smiled, his eyes wide with surprise at Vivian’s firearms, which remained aimed at the young men lying on the ground.

Vivian felt embarrassed and immediately retrieved her guns, making an awkward face as she greeted him with a short wave of her hand.

"That was... surprising." He looked around at the damage she had done. "Those kids, though, they were really harmless."

"I apologize to them and to you, Professor. I had no way of knowing it was you who invited me." Vivian offered a hand to the poor young man who was holding his bleeding mouth, saying, "Feel free to put the dentist’s bill on ViTech’s tab."

As she helped him up, Amos Morgan checked on the young woman who was knocked out cold, and the other two young men helped each other up. Then, two more young men walked out from where Amos came from and took their colleagues away.

"That was reckless of you, Vivian," Amos said.

"In these types of situations, asserting dominance is vital. Of course, I would have kept going if it weren’t you, Professor," she spoke respectfully.

"Lucky me, then." Professor Amos smiled but then continued, "That’s not what I meant, though. I was speaking about coming to this meeting from the beginning."

"So it wasn’t you who invited me. I assume," she frowned.

"Indeed. As a newcomer to this group myself, I was simply ensuring they didn’t overstep their bounds," he said, his voice clear but betraying a hidden depth of emotion.

"They did, didn’t they? Demanding the invitation from me was utterly rude," she said with a dissatisfied tone.

"I won’t disagree. Mr Woodman was clearly the one behind it. You’ll meet him soon enough." Amos said so as he cleared the way for Vivian to walk with him.

As she moved thought the corridor, she felt that the decorations were shifting as if she was going from one building to another through secret passages. She heard people speaking through these dark corridors, which confirmed her suspicions, but since she was good with directions, she realized that they did not move too much from the initial building. In other words, Esmeralda and Voros should still be able to locate her as they agreed.

"So, Professor, what is this talk about a new Empire?" Vivian asked.

"Ad Mundum Liberum!" Amos Morgan said.

"Ah! For a Free World, I see!" Vivian understood the phrase.

"You were always good with linguistics," Amos smiled.

"They all boil down to the same thing once you learn a few languages of the same family," she said.

"That’s wonderful, Vivian. You truly deserve to be the student of the year."

"You flatter me, sir, but I cannot help but notice that you are steering the conversation away to studies."

"Heh! Forgive me, Vivian. I hope I can tell you more than what I know."

"And what do you know, sir?"

"That Elgard is rotten; it must no longer be allowed to exist."

"I assume the alternative is making a king of whoever runs this show."

"Hardly. A new world cannot be an imitation of anything old. We must aspire to a more refined empire."

"And this needs funds... House Moore is the Empire’s wallet, and if you take that away, you cripple Elgard."

Amos nodded silently but then pulled out a mask from his robe and put it on. Once he was done, he opened the first door to the right and the pair of them seemed to have arrived at a much larger chamber, its sheer size dwarfing the corridors they had previously traversed.

The air hung heavy with the scent of old wood and something indefinably ancient.

There, a few figures emerged from the dimly lit corners of its ornate wooden confines, their movements slow and deliberate, as if part of some long-rehearsed ritual. Each wore a blank mask, crafted from a pale, smooth material that concealed their features entirely, which was probably ceramic, similar to the one Amos just put on.

The masks looked rather unremarkable at first glance, simple and unadorned, except, of course, for the central figure among them. This individual stood slightly apart from the others, and his mask, while sharing the same basic form, was hideously carved from old wood with swirling patterns that seemed to shift and writhe in the dim light, hinting at a power and importance that set them far above the rest.

"I wouldn’t say cripple Elgard in a sense... just tug them into the spiral of doom they have made for themselves."

The voice was of a larger and stronger man than Amos, standing across the room in the middle of the group with a brown old coat over a suit of a lighter color and a high leather hat of the same color.

Vivian looked at him, and a sneer appeared on her face as she spoke:

"Since your nose isn’t growing, it seems you’re believing what you’re saying, Mr Woodman."

"Quite the honor to be recognized by you, Miss Moore," he said with a slight bow.

"And Lady Ravenheart? Where is she?" Vivian asked right away.

"Oh... the old lady won’t be joining us. She has fulfilled her role by inviting you, and now she is off to her regular dut—"

As Mr Woodman was taking his time replying, Vivian’s eyes rolled out of boredom.

"Fuck off, then! Or even better, lead me to the top dog," Vivian spoke without showing an ounce of respect.

"The... top dog? I see. I am afraid that is not..."

"Goodness gracious! Do you always speak this slowly?"

"..."

It seemed that Vivian was back to her haughty attitude, even with Amos Morgan around. She looked all around her, but the people of this place seemed like nothing special.

"I apologize if this felt like a waste of time to you, but that ’top dog’ you spoke of is a man of great secrecy. I am sure you understand why, Miss Moore," Mr Woodman spoke ever so calmly.

"His Excellency, Mr. Woodman, is second-in-charge of our organisation, Vivian. Recognizing your importance, only a man like him could be sent to meet with you," Amos Morgan said.

Vivian listened to what Amos Morgan said and raised a brow as she looked at Woodman before stepping forward.

"Alright."

She said as she got closer, making the other men around her move instinctively in her direction, but as Woodman raised his hand, they stood their ground.

"Tell me, sir, what was the extent of my mother’s and brother’s involvement in your organization?" she asked.

"That’s a really sensitive question."

"Really?" She frowned. "Let me teach you a little thing about investment. If you pitch an idea to a rich girl like me, you need to sing it so well and make it so glamorous and shiny to the point where I can actually promise you money. That includes all the information I demand."

"Fair point!" Mr Woodman said as he seemed to be smiling under his mask. "I was planning on doing a ’show, not tell’ type of ’pitching’, but if you prefer words to imagery, who am I to say otherwise?"

"Imagery, you say?" Vivian frowned and thought before saying, "Well, answer my questions first, and we can proceed to that imagery thing of yours."

"I have nothing against that, Miss Moore. Ask away." Mr Woodman gladly spoke.

"My mother and brother."

"Your mother was the Caretaker, a really important chair to fill in our organization. She was a beacon of dedication to us all..."

"And my brother."

"Sir James is a bright young man who agreed to join us, ten years after your mother passed away. His role is pivotal."

"Securing land on Avalon. A third of Elgard’s colonies if I am not mistaken."

"Sadly, a landlocked area. The King’s governor of Avalon is a cunning man and has besieged Sir James in the frontier. To solve that, we need a lot of funds, ships, and... weapons."

"So I have to join you if I want to save my brother," she realized.

"Us, Miss Vivian. We, as a group of people with mutual interests, want to save your brother’s life, and advance the noble goals of our organization," Mr Woodman said.

"I see. This leaves me with little choice indeed," Vivian said and thought for a while. "My mother. What killed her?"

The question was a drawback from the topic of James, but it felt as if she was cornering Mr Woodman with it. Playing on sentiment with Vivian seemed not to be an option, as it seemed.

Mr Woodman weighed his words carefully before replying:

"Negligence."

"Asking whose negligence would lead us in circles, as it seems with you," Vivian said with displeasure in her voice.

"Not at all. I always blamed it on her, having only two guards wherever she comes and goes. But the more I thought about it in later years, we don’t know what really happened, and only your father knows most of the truth."

"That’s what set James against my father, I see."

Mr Woodman remained tense, as it seemed clear and more evident that Vivian is way colder than James. It felt like yesterday when Woodman revealed that information to James and let him fly in a rage, but Vivian stood there like a stone-cold soldier, hearing about her mother’s death and not feigning the slightest.

In a way, she is more like Count Julian than her brother James, who closely resembled his mother.

"Is that all you know about my mother’s demise?" She asked, but right at that moment, she drew a Tarot Card and looked at the man intently.

Something felt wrong to Woodman; it was as if a thousand ants were creeping under his skin from that gaze alone, but he still focused on his answer.

"Knowing more was risky, even for me." He replied.

Vivian looked at the card and snorted to herself as she looked at Woodman. After all, it was the Hierophant, reversed. A card that means plenty of things, actually: ignorance, unconventionality, being unorthodox with life choices, and such.

In other words, this Woodman doesn’t know what he’s talking about, and if she was to look at his profile that just popped up.

———READING———

Name — Harrison Rookwood

Race — Human

Level — 4-star Silver

Age — 42

Social — Baron (House Rookwood), Woodman (Al-Kabal)

Emotions — Thinking creatively, Worried, Fearing of getting exposed.

——————————

Vivian read the man’s status and was surprised by how little was shown about him. He was powerful; a four-star Silver Knight is only one rank away from being a Gold Knight, a force of nature in his own right. He was also a noble, as expected, but nothing more than a Baron, a very cheap title these days, probably from the countryside.

This meant that the Kabal is probably not lacking in terms of combat prowess, but that was still to be confirmed. As for now, it seemed like this Mr Woodman was trying to lead Vivian in circles.

"Alright, Mr Woodman. Let’s try and be honest with one another. So far, you offered me very little, and I feel no real use of your little organization to my own plans. If you have nothing other than trying to play on my emotions, I’ll be taking my leave," Vivian said decisively.

"Miss Vivian, as I said once, if you give me the chance to show you, it will all be better than a thousand meaningless words," Mr Woodman said as he cleared the way past himself for Vivian.

"Show me what exactly?" Vivian asked.

"The truth as we know it, why our work is important, and why we, even with our varying interests, are working together to create this new promise of an empire."

Those last few words seemed like the only honest thing Woodman said the whole night, and Vivian did not feel threatened by him yet, and so she agreed to follow.

Where they went was nowhere far; it was only a chamber next door, wooden wall panels and beautiful marble floor like the rest, making every step click in this rather empty space.

However, in the center of that place was a figure sitting on a chair and it was something that made Vivian almost jump from surprise.

"A... A Robot!"

≪ You have discovered a Reconnaissance Automaton Mech. ≫

≪ New Mission — Acquire the Recon Antenna from the Automaton. ≫

≪ Reward: System Upgrade unlock. ≫

≪ Fail: System Error! ≫

Of course, the system had to be so needy now of all times.

How insensitive! Vivian thought.

She had to stall in order to somehow tuck it in her magic bag.

As for the robot, it seemed like the wildest thing in existence regarding this world, what Vivian could tell is that the man-shaped machine was bronze in color, empty gaping sockets where eyes should have been, a void in its face in the shape of a mouth, and the tipped shape of the nose was hard on the eyes.

A native observer of this world might have dismissed it as mere armor, but Vivian’s discerning gaze unraveled the facade. The web of wires and the parts of machinery laid bare spoke of something far more unnatural.

While the term "Robot" was unfamiliar to Mr Woodman and Professor Amos, the two explained to Vivian that this thing is an Automaton they called the "Projector," and it was something that was found on Avalon... over 45 years ago.

"Wait!" Vivian frowned as she noted the most important detail. "Wasn’t Avalon only discovered 15 years ago?"

The two men looked at each other and then back to Vivian; they shook their heads in denial.

"What we know is that Saint Arthur Pendragon and Saintess Athena have met with Blackthorn during their conquest against the invader Magner Blackhand," Amos said.

"There, Blackthorn mentioned that it came from a land beyond the Ocean. It was called Paradise, and at the end of his reign, Arthur travelled there and never returned," Woodman continued.

"Alright, but this is a myth. King Arthur probably died to his son Mordred, and House Pendragon tried to pass the succession quietly to the Dukes of Harland," Vivian argued.

"Well, that’s the thing, Vivian." Professor Amos said and presented her with a small ledger, "You’re good with languages, so I guess you can figure out the Archaic Elgardish here on your own."

"This is?" Vivian received the ledger and asked.

"The Ledger of Elgard’s Royal Treasurer 900 years ago, the original copy." Amos said, revealing such a rare relic to Vivian, "Check the years 859, 862, and 870."

Vivian followed suit and looked at the years. At first, it was hard to read the old languages, but she has taken a manuscripts class in the academy and knows a thing or two about finding patterns in these ancient texts.

There...

She traced the lines with her fingers and paused after finding an entry with a ginormous amount of expenditures. The same thing appeared in the other two dates; the largest was at date 870 when the expenditures included tributes from all over the kingdom, loot from a campaign in northern Albion, as well as the losses of the Battle of Camlann that happened on the 16th of July, 870.

"The Destruction of Camelot." Vivian pointed at the date.

"Indeed. History may be faked, forgotten, or sugarcoated, but the flow of money always tells the real story," Mr Woodman said.

"So... Saint Arthur was carried to Avalon right after the Siege of Camelot, even though he was mortally wounded. Ships back then would at least take... I don’t know... six months at sea?"

"You see it then. There was a situation of urgency. The ballads always said that he was sent to the land of Paradise to heal and later return," Amos said.

"Alright, I get it. Even if that was true. What about that time gap between then and now?" She asked.

It was Woodman who answered after that:

"Miss Moore, I am afraid this one will be rather difficult to process."

"Go on."

"In the past 900 years, we have records of no less than 27 trips to Avalon from all over the world. The last Elgard participated in was 400 years ago; during that time, many great houses fell and others rose. Many squabbled, and others warred against one another."

"Wait! You mean the Schism of the Great Houses?" Vivian asked.

"That is correct. The Schism was a result of a failed attempt to conquer Avalon. Then all of a sudden, almost all records of the colonization attempts were erased from both books and memories, except for many mysterious trails of money that technically led nowhere," Woodman said.

"That’s ominous!"

"It doesn’t end there actually..." Amos Morgan paused a little bit before looking at Woodman, "Since House Moore is a house of finance, your records will tell more detailed stories about these expeditions. Also, some speculations from Lady Catelyn’s writings conclude that the origins of..."

"MY LORD! MY LORD!"

Almost when the mystery was being clarified, one of the Disciples of Al-Kabal rushed into the room covered in blood as he held his wounded arm.

"What is the meaning... What’s going on?" Woodman immediately rushed to the young man.

"WE... Prince Liam, sir... We’re under attack!"

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