Vana's POV

“I conclude that Reynolds McValeri is the mastermind behind this case. The real perpetrator of this crime,” I stated, announcing my conclusion.

“Reynolds McValeri?” Jerome exclaimed alongside the captain.

“Reynolds McValeri is the only person capable of doing this. He is the head of his own company, and the guild master of Clashing Seasons. He has the money, people, and power to pull off this crime,” I explained, pointing out the obvious clues laid out on us.

“He may not be here, but with the clues pointing at him, it is most likely that what I’m trying to say is true,” I added.

“You know assumptions and unproven conclusions won’t lead us anywhere, right?” We have no evidence that points to him as a mastermind,” Jerome pointed, jutting a hip with sass at me.

I faced, scoffing with a smirk. “I think you’re forgetting that Camillo has a communication lacrima where the mastermind called. Its quite possible that Camilla also has her own lacrima,” I boasted, reminding of the call Camillo answered.

“Let’s say Reynolds McValeri is indeed the mastermind behind this case, what’s his goal?” Jerome asked, confused. “They asked for ransom from the four kingdoms. If you think about it, Reynolds won’t need the money when he’s already one of the richest people in Auregon.”

“I have two reasons I can think of,” I mentioned. “One is to start a conflict between the four kingdoms. And two, to make himself a hero.”

“Explain,” the captain demanded, absorbed in the conversation.

“There are several conflicts that could arise from this situation. Territorial conflict on the oceans; fault blaming of this incident, which is likely to fall on either Ashern or Fortis; and suspicions between kingdoms,” I explained.

“And the hero goal?” Jerome wondered.

“In simpler terms, he wanted to be famous like a hero to produce more profit and for his guild to be on top. Like a cycle, where he plans the incident, execute it, and clean the execution by throwing away his own men and hiding the truth to make an even greater name for himself,” I mused, catching my breath.

“I get that, but for what?” Jerome growled, rolling his eyes as he asks another question.

“Oh, I don’t know. Why don’t you ask that question to him,” I snarled.

I don’t know what reason Reynolds McValeri may have to do this, but clearly it’s not right and justifiable.

“McValeri is not the mastermind,” Camillo spoke, snapping our heads to him.

“Then who?” I raised a brow at him, my lips perking up.

“I am,” Camillo answered.

“No one’s buying that, you know,”

“But I am. I’m serious!”

“Sorry pal, but your words are becoming less and less convincing.”

“Rather than convincing us that you’re the mastermind, you should just admit who the real mastermind is and confess to it,” Jerome suggested, pivoting his boots towards them.

“That’s one way to have evidence. A testimony and confession of the real mastermind,” I agreed. “But I think tracing the calls Camillo had on his lacrima is the way to go. Now, where is your communication lacrima?” I asked Camillo.

Jerome approached Camillo and began to search his body for the lacrima. The lacrima is a small ball that fits inside a pocket, but bulges. Jerome found the lacrima on his back pocket, taking it out as he looks through it.

The lacrima is similar to a technology found in the Mortal World, which is called a phone. I am aware of its existence because my brother has one of those. The only difference of a phone from a communication lacrima is that the lacrima can be holographic or not, and can only do basics like calls, messages, and location tracking.

Jerome looked through the lacrima, checking the last calls the lacrima received for the past few hours. I leaned forward to him, peering over his arm as I observe the contacts and calls saved on the lacrima’s call history.

The names on the history logs weren’t useful as all of them—if not most—are all numbers. The latest one was not too long ago, which I believe to be the call he took when he visited the hostages for the first time.

“I believe this is the mastermind’s number,” I mentioned, pointing a finger at the number.

“This? Are you sure?” Jerome wondered, raising a brow at me.

“Yes, trust me,” I answered.

“How can I trust you? You’re from Green Serpent.”

“Are we seriously going to argue about that right now?”

“I can’t trust you, even if you’re a schoolmate,”

“Are you kidding me?” I bawled, growling in exasperation. We’re in the middle of an investigation, and instead of suspecting the people around us, he suspects me.

I glowered at him for a moment before composing myself, taking a deep breath as I convince myself to dismiss him. You know what, if he’s not going to cooperate with me, then I’ll do this in my own hands.

“Give me that,” I snarled, snatching the lacrima from his hands.

My hands swiftly grabbed the lacrima out of his hands, taking it away from him as I skidded away. I examined its contents on my own, heading out of the room to call the number on the lacrima.

“Hey—give it back,” Jerome demanded, extending a hand to snatch it back, only to fail in his conquest.

“Nope, because I’ll be calling the mastermind,” I mused, heading out of the room as I dial the number.

The call rang as soon as I called the number. Jerome didn’t manage to follow me outside since he’s keeping Camillo and Camilla restrained. No one would bother me while I talk to the person on the other end of this line.

The call connected to the end of the line, a voice resounding clearly on the lacrima. “What did you call for? I thought the negotiations are under control,” a manly voice muttered, a rough, coarse voice scratching on the call.

“Is this Reynolds McValeri?” I wondered, a smirk forming in my lips.

Silence followed after I asked the question. It lasted for a few seconds before a resounding laugh echoed out of the lacrima. I braced myself for what the person has to say, eyes noticing the empty ship decks.

“And who is this? I believe this is Camillo’s lacrima,” the man said.

“Just someone who saw through your plans. So, you are indeed the mastermind behind this plan, and not Camillo. Now tell me, are you really Reynolds McValeri or are you going to pretend to be someone else?” I asked, the smirk on my lips disappearing as my eyes caught glimpse of the crew surrounding me.

There are crew members waiting on both end of the hallway, suspiciously on standby on their spots. There’s also two on the stairs, observing my actions as if they are waiting for something. It’s awfully quiet around, where are the passengers?

I gritted my teeth, entering back inside the room as I realized what’s about to happen.

The man on the call chortled, startling Jerome and the rest of the people in the room. Jerome and I exchanged glances by instincts, and through that, I pointed at the captain, trying to let him know that he’s not our side the whole time.

We messed up.

“If you think that finding me out makes you the winner, then you are completely wrong,” the man—Reynolds McValeri admitted. “Because every crew on that ship is part of my plan.”

The captain of the ship launched an attack on us as soon as Reynolds words ended. He aimed his attack on Jerome; which I blocked to prevent him from losing his concentration. I pulled my sickles out, blocking it against the captain’s attack.

I pushed the captain back, hauling him as I kick him down. I knocked him down on the floor, his head hitting the edge of the dashboard that knocked him unconscious. I grinded my teeth with a snarl, glaring at the lacrima.

“You won’t get away with this,” I warned.

“We’ll see. You might not even come out of there alive,” Reynolds chuckled, ending the call.

Anger rushed through my face as I feel my grip tightened around the lacrima. I made one fatal mistake that I should’ve seen coming. The whole ship’s crew are part of this incident, which all made sense in my head.

“Don’t let that two escape. They are vital as witnesses if the officials are going to arrest Reynolds McValeri,” I instructed.

“Is it really him?” Jerome wondered.

“Yes, it is really him,” I answered.

The door banged as a loud thud knocked over it. I flinched, raising my weapons in front of me as I took a step forward towards the door. The crew is here. They’re trying to break in.

“Cover their mouths,” I demanded, pointing at the siblings. “We have to get to the passengers. If the crew are also part of this, then the passengers might’ve been taken hostage again.”

“How are supposed to do that?” Jerome asked.

“We’ll have to bust our way through,” I said.

“What? Are you insane?” Jerome snapped.

I ignored him, rushing to the door as I slam it open. The door banged against the crew members on the other side, sending them tumbling to the ground. I kicked the crew member that charhed at me at the doorframe, sending him rolling on the ground.

I loked the door of the room as I leave, standing guard as the crew surround me from all direction. I don’t plan to use my magic any further than I already did, and dealing with these many would be difficult, if not hard already.

I charged at them, swinging my sickles as I waltz on the wooden floor of the ship. The blades slash against the crew’s chest, blood splattering across the floor and on my arms. I pushed them back towards the railings, cornering them.

I gave five of them a roundhouse kick, knocking them off the ship as they fall to the sea. Footsteps marched behind me as several men launched a synchronized attack at my direction. I scooted over to the side, letting them slip and fall over the railings on a wimp.

None of the crew marched from one direction of the ship, forcing me to flee on the opposite direction of where they came from. As long as the passengers are unharmed and unguarded ,they could probably escape while I distract these bandits.

Good thing the ice-barricaded room prison I made is still intact. The bandits earlier are still locked up inside.

I hauled the remaining crew bandits off the ship, wounding them first before sending them off the ship. I ran on the open deck, the wind blowing against my hair and face as I try to run as far away from the bandits as I possibly can.

I halted, finding myself cornered on the tip of the ship deck. Damn, why so stupid, Vana? Why did I corner myself? I cursed, facing the crew chasing me. They began to surround me in all direction from a distance.

I laid my weapons in front of me, emitting my aura as I try to intimidate them and back them off. Stay calm, Vana, don’t let your magic loose even if you have to dive in the ocean.

I glanced over my shoulder to hope that we’re nearing the Ashern shore. A plot of land glimmered over the distance, vaguely noticeable as the sun beamed from the same direction I am gazing at. We’re near land! All I have to do is buy enough time.

But that would take me hours.

I panted, taking a step back as the crew bandits take a step forward. I looked over the control room, Jerome freeing Camillo and Camilla as he rushes out to help me. That guy, I told him to stay put!

I was distracted of Jerome’s actions that I forgot the situation I am in. A bandit charged at me unnoticed, his hand flaring with magic. I was a second late to react, stepping back as I cross my arms to block the attack.

I blocked the attack, but the magic continued to sear out of the bandit’s hands. He pushed me down, forcing me on my knees as his strength overpower mine.

“Where’s your magic? Use it,” the bandit taunted, mocking me.

“No,” I muttered as I struggle to fight back. “It would be better if you just surrender instead of fighting back. That is if you still want to live,” I added, glaring at him with cold eyes.

“You should probably listen to what she said,” a woman’s voice spoke, followed by a swift flow of magic.

Aura burst into the air as water splashed across the ship’s deck. Arrows made of water launched in a sequenced attack, making the crew retreat and fall in their knees. Water Magic. But who?

Water slithered next to me like a snake, creating a form of its own as it turns into a human. The water snaked down on the bandit’s back, pulling him off of me as the water dangles him in the air. The water holding the bandit turned into a trident, and the water next to me formed into a person.

A woman.

I turned to see who the woman was, my mouth gaping as I recognize her. The woman’s purple hair draped in waves on her back, her blue eyes crystallizing like the ocean waves. T-that’s… that’s my brother’s friend and former classmate.

Christine Kim Domingo!