Lord Summoner's Freedom Philosophy: Grimoire of Love
Chapter 406: The Culprit of The Poisoning

Chapter 406: The Culprit of The Poisoning

Lyan stood over Garrick’s body, his eyes narrowing as he processed everything he had seen and heard. The ballroom was filled with whispers and unease, the once vibrant atmosphere now overshadowed by the tension hanging in the air. He moved around the ballroom, his eyes carefully examining every detail—the spilled glass, the wine bottles lined up along the table, the posture in which Garrick had collapsed. He was in deep thought, trying to piece together every clue, no matter how small, to form the bigger picture.

The nobles, servants, and guards were on edge, some of them whispering amongst themselves while others stared at the scene with wide eyes. Lyan ignored the murmurs, his focus sharp, his steps slow and deliberate as he moved closer to the wine table. His hand reached out, lifting one of the wine bottles, his eyes narrowing as he examined it closely. The bottle was unassuming, looking no different from the others. But Lyan knew there had to be something—something subtle, hidden in plain sight.

He turned the bottle slightly, checking the pouring mechanism. His eyes caught the faint glimmer of something unusual. It was almost unnoticeable, a tiny residue near the spout, something that might have been easily missed if not for his sharp attention to detail. He frowned, his mind racing. The poison had to have been administered in such a way that ensured Garrick would drink it, regardless of which glass he chose. It couldn’t have been pre-mixed in the glass—the chances were too slim. It had to be something more deliberate.

He turned, his gaze scanning the crowd. The nobles were watching him, their faces filled with uncertainty and fear. Some of them were visibly trembling, their nervous eyes meeting his for just a moment before they looked away. He moved his eyes from one face to another, gauging their reactions, noting every small detail—the way their expressions shifted, the way some of them seemed to be holding their breath.

His gaze lingered on a few of the nobles near the edge of the ballroom, their unease more pronounced than the others. Lyan noted the way their hands shook, how they seemed desperate to fade into the background. He continued moving, his steps taking him closer to Garrick’s body once more. The nobles shifted to give him space, their eyes following his every movement.

(They are scared, master. They know something,) Cynthia’s calm voice echoed in his mind, her analytical tone as sharp as ever.

(Or they are simply terrified after seeing a man drop dead in front of them,) Arturia countered, her voice softer, almost sympathetic.

Lyan let out a soft sigh, his eyes never leaving the crowd. He didn’t respond, focusing instead on the scene before him. He had to think, had to understand how everything fit together—the wine, the glass, the nervousness of some of the nobles. It was all connected, but the pieces weren’t falling into place yet.

Alice, who had been standing beside Wilhelmina near the royal platform, stepped forward. Her voice was calm but carried across the room with confidence, breaking through the silence. "The culprit is absolutely still inside here," she said, her words catching everyone’s attention. The nobles turned to look at her, their expressions filled with a mixture of curiosity and fear.

Lyan looked at Alice, intrigued by her certainty. He nodded slightly, gesturing for her to continue. Alice met his eyes, her expression unwavering. "Whoever poisoned Lord Garrick had to have the opportunity to do so without drawing attention. Given the setup and how quickly Garrick reacted to the poison, it’s clear it was administered in a way that ensured he would be the one to ingest it." She glanced at the wine table, her eyes narrowing. "This wasn’t random. It was deliberate, calculated. And that means the culprit is still here, among us."

A murmur ran through the crowd, nobles exchanging uneasy glances, their fear growing more apparent. Lyan’s gaze turned to the wine table, his thoughts aligning with Alice’s words. He stepped forward, speaking up. "The reason the culprit must be here is that they had the opportunity to make direct contact with Garrick. They had the time and method to poison his wine," Lyan said, his voice calm but filled with conviction. "Garrick picked a glass at random from the tray, meaning the poison couldn’t have been in the glass itself beforehand. It had to be added in a way that ensured he would ingest it, regardless of which glass he chose."

He paused, turning his eyes back to Alice. "The poison could have been applied to the rim of the wine bottle or in a specific part of the pouring mechanism, making sure it mixed with only his glass."

Alice nodded, her eyes focused. "Exactly. It was subtle enough that no one noticed, but effective enough to guarantee the outcome." She looked around the room, her gaze sharp. "Someone here had the opportunity to make contact with that bottle, to ensure that Garrick would be poisoned."

Lyan watched Alice closely, a small smile tugging at his lips. She was perceptive, and he appreciated that. He took a step back, gesturing for her to continue. "Who had the opportunity to make contact with Garrick and poison his wine?" he asked, his voice carrying through the room.

Alice took a deep breath, her eyes scanning the crowd. She considered all the servants and nobles who had interacted with Garrick throughout the night. Her eyes narrowed as she raised her hand, pointing towards one of the female nobles standing near the edge of the ballroom. The room collectively turned to look at the noblewoman, a hushed murmur rippling through the crowd.

The noblewoman’s eyes widened, her face paling as all eyes fell on her. She took an involuntary step back, her hands trembling slightly. The fear in her eyes was unmistakable, and Lyan could see the guilt written all over her face. She was terrified, and it wasn’t just the fear of being accused—it was the fear of being caught.

As soon as Alice pointed her out, Wilhelmina and Surena, who had been standing behind Lyan, moved swiftly.

"What do you think you’re doing? Let me go!" the noblewoman hissed, struggling in their grasp. Wilhelmina tightened her grip, her expression unwavering.

"You’re not going anywhere," Surena replied, her voice cold.

The woman clicked her tongue in frustration, her face twisting into a sneer. "You think you’ve won? You’re all fools," she spat, her demeanor changing in an instant, her fear replaced by defiance.

Suddenly, smoke bombs detonated around her, filling the ballroom with a thick, choking cloud. The smoke spread quickly, obscuring everything in sight. Nobles screamed in fear and confusion, their voices rising in panic as they tried to move away from the source of the smoke.

Lyan’s eyes narrowed as he instinctively covered his nose and mouth, his mind racing. The ballroom was thrown into chaos, the once orderly gathering now a scene of panic and disorder. He could barely see anything through the thick smoke, the outlines of people moving frantically in every direction.

Julius, who had been standing near Prince Erich, immediately stepped in front of the prince, his sword drawn to protect him. His eyes scanned the smoke, his stance tense and ready for any threat. "Everyone, stay calm!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos, though few seemed to heed his command.

Lyan exchanged a look with Surena, both of them nodding in silent agreement. They simultaneously cast wind magic, their spells working together to clear the smoke from the room. The wind swirled around them, pushing the smoke away, revealing the scene once more.

As the smoke cleared, everyone could see that the noblewoman had disappeared. The window near her previous position was shattered, the glass scattered across the floor. She had escaped. Lyan’s eyes narrowed as he moved towards the shattered window, his steps slow and deliberate.

He peered out into the night, his eyes scanning the darkness. There was no trace of her—she was gone. He clenched his jaw, frustration building within him. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They had her, and now she had slipped through their fingers. His eyes caught something near the window, a small inscription carved into one of the pillars. He frowned, leaning in closer to examine it.

It was the royal insignia of Varzadia, a neighboring country known for its political tensions with Astellia. Lyan’s eyes narrowed further, a sense of unease settling in his chest. This wasn’t just a random act—this was intentional. This was a message.

Julius stepped forward, his expression grim as he looked at the inscription. "She’s from Varzadia. There’s no doubt about it," he said, his voice carrying a sense of finality. The nobles gathered in the ballroom began to murmur, their voices growing louder, more panicked. Fear and uncertainty filled the air, the realization sinking in that they were dealing with something far more serious than a simple murder.

"This is enough to be considered a declaration of war!" one of the nobles shouted, his voice filled with fear and outrage. Others quickly echoed the sentiment, their voices rising in agreement. The tension in the ballroom was palpable, the fear and anger of the nobles threatening to boil over.

Lyan exchanged a glance with Prince Erich, who had been watching everything from the royal platform. The prince’s eyes met his, and he gave a subtle nod. They both understood what this meant—the already strained relations with Varzadia were about to become much worse. This incident would accelerate everything, pushing them closer to the brink of war.

Lyan let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly. This was getting out of hand, and fast. He looked around the room, taking in the frightened faces of the nobles, the uncertainty in their eyes. This was going to be troublesome, and he had a feeling that things were only going to get more complicated from here.

"This is getting troublesome," Lyan muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing as he looked out into the night. He knew that this was only the beginning, and that there was much more to come. The question was, how far would this go, and what would it cost them all in the end?