Lord Summoner's Freedom Philosophy: Grimoire of Love
Chapter 411: The Analysis of The Aftermath

Chapter 411: The Analysis of The Aftermath

Lyan and Alicia stood in the courtyard, the tension around them almost tangible. The aftermath of the explosions left the air heavy, tinged with the acrid scent of burnt magic and scorched earth. The remains of the assassins were scattered around them—twisted bodies, dark stains on the cobblestones, remnants of magical artifacts glinting in the dim moonlight. The scene was a mess, but Lyan knew there was something they could learn here—something important.

With a deep breath, Lyan let his hands hover above the ground, a faint blue glow surrounding his fingers. He closed his eyes, channeling the lightning-infused wind magic that Griselda lent him. The energy flowed through his fingertips, swirling along the surface of the courtyard, lifting dust and debris gently into the air. The lightning danced across the scorched earth, revealing the aftermath beneath the cover of darkness. The calm hum of his magic seemed to ease the tension in the air, if only slightly.

Beside him, Alicia was on one knee, her hand pressed to the ground, her psychokinetic senses stretching out to take in the entire scene. Her eyes were closed, her brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to find any lingering traces of the dark magic that had caused the assassins to explode. Lyan glanced at her, appreciating the determined look on her face. She always seemed to know how to focus her abilities in situations like this. He couldn’t help but admire her focus, but quickly turned his attention back to his task, trying to hide the tiny smile that crept onto his lips.

The courtyard was still, save for the occasional crackle of Lyan’s magic as it swept over the ground. They both worked silently, the only sounds being their controlled breathing and the distant crackling of dissipating energy. As Lyan cleared away more debris, he started to notice details—burn marks that didn’t belong to any spell they had cast, strange patterns etched into the ground, pieces of charred fabric with small metallic clasps attached. It was all significant, but he couldn’t put the pieces together just yet.

Alicia opened her eyes, her gaze immediately finding a spot among the remains. She rose to her feet, her expression one of intense focus as she walked forward, kneeling beside a particularly charred section of the courtyard. Her fingertips brushed against the edge of one of the remains, and she closed her eyes again, her senses expanding once more.

"There’s something here," she murmured, her voice distant as she focused on the magical energy. Lyan looked over, his interest piqued. He moved closer, his eyes following Alicia’s movements.

"What is it?" Lyan asked, his voice low, not wanting to disturb her focus.

Alicia didn’t respond immediately, her face scrunching in concentration as she tried to sense whatever trace was left. After a long pause, she opened her eyes, her gaze sharp and serious. "It’s faint, but there’s still some residual magic. It’s... different. Not just a regular spell. It’s something older, darker. The kind of magic that’s meant to cover up tracks."

Lyan nodded, his jaw tightening as he absorbed her words. He let out a slow breath, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the remains around them. The explosions hadn’t just been a means to kill—they had been a cover-up. Whoever had planned this wanted to make sure that nothing could be traced back to them.

"This level of dark magic isn’t just for show," Lyan muttered, more to himself than to Alicia. He looked over at her, his eyes meeting her gaze. "It’s forbidden. Something to prevent any form of interrogation. A fail-safe."

Alicia nodded, her eyes narrowing in thought. "It’s more than that. The energy left behind..." She trailed off, her brow furrowing as she tried to put her thoughts into words. "It’s consistent with blood magic. Power drawn from a living sacrifice. Whoever did this—they didn’t just want to protect information. They wanted to ensure their operatives couldn’t be captured. It’s a dark pact."

Lyan clenched his jaw, his hands balling into fists. He had seen this kind of magic before, during his past quest, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth. The memories came rushing back—of comrades lost, of battles fought against enemies who were willing to do anything, sacrifice anyone, to achieve their goals. It was the kind of dark magic that left a stain on everything it touched.

(They’re willing to kill their own people to protect their secrets) Cynthia’s voice was analytical, her tone calm despite the grim subject. (They value their lives less than their mission)

Lyan sighed, nodding slightly. "It’s a high-level form of sorcery," he said aloud, his voice filled with frustration. "This isn’t just some rogue faction. They have powerful mages working with them. People who know exactly what they’re doing."

Alicia looked at him, her expression thoughtful. "Which means this goes deeper than we thought. If they’re using blood magic, then they have resources—access to forbidden texts, rituals that are kept hidden for a reason." She glanced back at the remains, her face hardening. "And they have no qualms about using them."

Lyan frowned, his eyes narrowing as he looked around the courtyard. "Varzadia," he muttered, the name dripping with venom. "They’re not just trying to destabilize Astellia. They’re prepared for war."

Alicia’s gaze turned to him, her eyes meeting his. "We need to find out who else is involved," she said, her voice steady. "We need to know how far this goes."

Lyan nodded, determination settling in his chest. They needed answers—and they needed them fast. The enemy was willing to play dirty, and they couldn’t afford to be caught off guard.

They continued their examination, their eyes scanning every inch of the courtyard for anything that might provide a clue. Alicia moved methodically, her psychokinetic senses guiding her, while Lyan used his lightning magic to clear away debris and reveal what was hidden beneath. It was tedious work, but neither of them complained. They both understood the importance of finding out as much as they could.

After a few minutes, Alicia paused, her eyes narrowing as she spotted something among the rubble. She knelt down, carefully lifting a fragment of what looked like a shattered artifact. It was small, barely the size of her palm, and covered in faintly glowing runes.

"Lyan, over here," she called, her voice urgent. Lyan turned, his eyes immediately finding the fragment in her hand. He moved closer, his gaze fixating on the runes etched into the surface.

Lyan knelt beside her, his fingers brushing against the fragment as he examined the markings. "These runes..." he muttered, his brow furrowing. "They’re not just decorative. This is an ancient language. One used by secretive mage factions."

He focused, letting his mana flow through his fingers, lightning crackling faintly as he activated the residual magic in the fragment. The runes began to glow more brightly, the energy surging as the fragment came to life. An image flickered into view—a darkened room, cloaked figures standing around a table. A map of Astellia was spread out before them, their fingers pointing to different locations.

The image was brief, flickering for only a moment before it faded, but it was enough. Lyan and Alicia exchanged a knowing glance, their expressions grim.

"They’re organized," Lyan said, his voice low. "This isn’t just some spur-of-the-moment attack. They’re planning something big."

Alicia nodded, her eyes narrowing. "They have operatives, resources, and a plan. We need to figure out what it is, and fast." She clenched her jaw, her determination clear. "We can’t let them stay one step ahead."

Lyan agreed, his eyes scanning the courtyard once more. There had to be more clues—more pieces of the puzzle that could help them figure out what Varzadia was planning.

As they continued searching, Alicia’s gaze caught something glinting in the dim light, near the remains of the leader. She moved towards it, her fingers brushing against the small object. It was a medallion, the insignia of Varzadia’s royal council engraved on its surface.

Alicia’s breath caught, her eyes widening in recognition. She held the medallion up, her expression serious as she looked at Lyan. "This insignia... it’s from the Varzadian council. Someone high up is involved in this."

Lyan clenched his jaw, his mind racing. This wasn’t just a rogue faction—it was connected to the heart of Varzadia’s power. "They’re using official resources," he muttered, his voice filled with frustration. "This is a direct challenge. A declaration of war."

Alicia nodded, her eyes meeting his. "We need to show this to Will. This changes everything," she said, her voice steady but tinged with urgency. She tucked the medallion away, her expression thoughtful. "This isn’t just an attack. It’s a statement."

Lyan let out a slow breath, his eyes narrowing. He could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on him, the knowledge that they were up against something far bigger than they had anticipated. They needed to be careful, to plan their next moves meticulously. One wrong step could mean disaster.

He glanced at Alicia, her face set in determination, and he felt a surge of respect for her resolve. She wasn’t backing down, and neither was he. They had a responsibility to protect Astellia, to ensure that Varzadia’s plans didn’t come to fruition.

Lyan raised his hand, channeling Cynthia’s light magic. A soft, warm glow emanated from his palm, illuminating the darkened courtyard. The light revealed faint traces of magical residue left behind by the assassins—dark, almost oily stains that pulsed with an unnatural energy.

"This is..."