Chapter 267: The Elven Passerby

"I protest! I want to appeal! This is an unlawful arrest!"

As several guards closed in on him, Henry shouted his protest, but he didn’t dare to actually resist.

In any case, he was a citizen of the Carolina City-States and thus bound by its laws. If he let them take him in for questioning peacefully, he would only have to deal with the City Defense Bureau and the Public Security Bureau. But if he resisted, let alone used Arcane Magic, the ones who would show up would be the Carolina Magic Committee.

After all, their committee’s president was none other than the newly appointed Lord of Carolina herself! If this matter reached her, it wouldn’t matter if he was in the right or not; he’d have to pay a hefty price.

Ron and Victoria watched Henry’s forceful arrest from the sidelines. After exchanging a few pleasantries with the captain of the guards, they took their leave.

But just as they were about to leave, Ron’s steps suddenly faltered.

Just as he tried to put away his spellbook, the Weaving Introduction seemed to show a slight... resistance?

’Resistance?’

Although the Weaving Introduction returned to normal in an instant, it was *his* spellbook, and Ron still sensed that something was off.

"What’s wrong?" Victoria turned to look at him, asking with concern, "You don’t seem quite right."

"It’s nothing. I’ve probably just been short on sleep lately," Ron said. He tried it a few more times, but the momentary resistance didn’t happen again. It made him wonder if he had just spaced out for a second. "Don’t worry. Let’s go check on Silvia and the others. The three of them have probably gone back by now."

Silvia and the other two had indeed returned to their lodgings, but not much earlier; they arrived at almost the same time as Ron and Victoria. According to them, a strange person had stopped them on their way back. This person was quite powerful but showed no hostility, simply asking a few questions before letting them go.

"It was a female Elf, like Lady Liya—a Pure-blood Elf," Silvia recalled. "She was likely a Caster, but she wore the light armor of a Warrior, with mithril plating covering her from her right shoulder to her right hand."

"Long, straight silver hair and lake-blue eyes," Seymour added. "She was different from Lady Liya, though. I suspect she might be a Moon Elf, but there were some minor differences, so I can’t be sure."

The Zor was quite perceptive when it came to his Elven cousins, but even he had moments of uncertainty.

"What did she ask you?" Ron racked his brain but couldn’t recall any dealings with Moon Elves.

"Mainly three questions. First, she asked if we killed that broker. We told her the truth: we didn’t," Carlos said. "Second, she asked what we were doing in Carolina. We gave her your official story, and she didn’t react."

"She didn’t believe us," Seymour said with a shrug. "Finally, she asked if we had ever heard of Green Swamp Town."

Ron’s heart skipped a beat. "What did you say?"

"We said we’d been there, but it had long since become a ruin," Silvia said. "She... scoffed?"

"It seemed like a scoff," Carlos said affirmatively after a moment of thought. "A disdainful, mocking kind of laugh. But I don’t think it was aimed at us."

"I think she must be one of the people who knows about the Baron’s plan, and she doesn’t like the Hailan Empire," Seymour concluded. "After all, Moon Elves are usually friendlier to other races."

"Hmm... In any case, let’s be a little more careful," Ron mused for a moment. "Something strange happened to me on the way back, too. I don’t know if it’s related to her."

"Should we delay our plan, then?"

"We’ll have to put Seymour’s instructor on hold for a bit. As for our dear ’The Fourteenth Book of the Dead,’ we’ve come this far. It’s not realistic to back out now. It’s better to see things through to the end."

While Ron and his group rested and put their plans for Henry Robertson on hold, the Necromancer himself was sitting in a waiting room at the Carolina Public Security Bureau, his gaze dark as he stared at a large black spider spinning a web in the corner.

Henry felt he’d had the worst luck these past two days.

First, he was bizarrely accused by a prostitute, who claimed his skeleton had killed someone on her bed and dragged the body away!

’Absolute nonsense! How could I do something like that? How could I do it in a brothel? And how could I possibly do it in front of a witness! Do I look like an idiot?!’

Although it was later proven that the prostitute’s memory had been magically altered and that it was all a frame-up, Henry’s Phantom was still taken into custody. But since it wasn’t his real body, it wasn’t a big deal.

But this whole affair had distracted him and caused him to make a mistake—he had forgotten the task he’d set for his flesh golem. The night after the slave trader was killed, it was actually supposed to kill two people to replenish his material reserves!

And for some reason, his Mage Tower’s defense systems must have also malfunctioned. His Undead Creature guards had actually clashed with the city guards. Although no one was killed, allowing him to get off by claiming "Undead Command Stiffening," his reputation was bound to get even worse from now on.

As for the explosion... Henry Robertson bit his fingernails, a habit he’d had for years. He was almost certain that he hadn’t caused those explosions and fires. Moreover, one of his scrying eyes had been shattered by thunder magic, which was proof enough that someone else besides him and his guards had been there—and this third party likely included a Caster.

But the problem was... the Public Security Bureau wouldn’t believe his story, and neither would the Magic Committee. Not unless he, Henry, was willing to hand over his spellbook for them to inspect—but that was absolutely impossible!

The Necromancer sighed helplessly. The only thing to do was to check his Mage Tower’s defensive setup. If there were no traps like Fireball Magic, he could completely clear his name.

’But what kind of Mage doesn’t use Fireball Magic? Even if I specialize in Necromancy, I still have to incorporate magic from other schools into my Mage Tower’s defense system to cover my weaknesses.’

’If the Mage Tower, like its owner, was only proficient in Necromancy, then it wouldn’t make a difference whether the Mage was in the tower or not.’

’So, yes, I do have traps that trigger Fireball Magic—quite a few, in fact. If they really investigate, I definitely won’t be able to give a convincing explanation.’

Just as Henry Robertson’s thoughts were racing, the door to the waiting room opened, and a guard walked in with a grim expression.

"Henry Robertson, ’sir’," the guard said. "The chief wants to ask you about what happened last night."