The Extra's Rise - Chapter 445

Chapter 445: Investigation (3)
The following morning brought disappointing but unsurprising news: Daedric had denied our request to investigate beneath the trapdoor.

“Family secrets and ancient traditions,” Magnus reported with a wry twist to his lips. “Apparently, the chamber contains sacred artifacts dating back to the palace’s founding, too delicate and spiritually significant to be viewed by outsiders.”

“You don’t believe him,” I said. It wasn’t a question.

“I believe he’s hiding something,” Magnus replied. “Whether it’s what we suspect or something else entirely remains to be seen.”

Our team was reassigned to investigate the palace’s eastern supply storage—a seemingly mundane task that left me bristling with frustration. If Daedric thought busy work would deter us, he’d seriously underestimated our determination.

The storage facilities turned out to be vast, spreading beneath the eastern wing like a hidden city. Rows upon rows of shelving units held everything from basic provisions to rare alchemical ingredients, all meticulously cataloged and arranged.

“This place could sustain the palace for years,” Ava observed as we made our way through the labyrinthine space. “It’s beyond ordinary preparation.”

I nodded, my thoughts momentarily distracted by another flash of memory—the scent of jasmine, a warm hand against my cheek. I shook my head sharply, trying to clear it.

“Arthur?” Jin’s voice pulled me back. “Did you hear me?”

“Sorry,” I muttered. “What did you say?”

Jin gave me an odd look but continued. “I said these supply quantities don’t match the palace’s supposed population. There’s enough here for thousands, but the palace only houses a few hundred residents, according to official records.”

I focused on the shelves, noting the quantities with newfound interest. Jin was right—the provisions were excessive, even accounting for emergencies or isolation.

“Maybe they’re preparing for something,” I suggested. “Or supporting more people than they acknowledge.”

We continued our survey, documenting discrepancies and unusual stockpiles. In one section, we found an entire row dedicated to medical supplies—blood transfusion equipment, specialized pharmaceuticals, and regenerative compounds.

“This is military-grade medical storage,” Hiro noted, examining a container of advanced healing agents. “You’d see this in a field hospital, not a traditional palace.”

“The question is, who are they healing?” I asked.

Before anyone could respond, Advisor Koren appeared at the end of the aisle, flanked by two palace guards. His expression was as sour as ever, but there was a new tension in his posture.

“Your time in this section is concluded,” he announced. “You’re needed elsewhere.”

“We’ve barely started,” Jin protested, gesturing to the vast rows still unexplored.

“Nevertheless, your presence is required in the eastern ceremonial hall. Lord Daedric wishes to address all investigation teams regarding protocol adjustments.”

I exchanged glances with my teammates. This felt like a diversion—an attempt to pull us away from something we might discover.

“We’ll be there shortly,” I said, making a show of organizing our notes.

Koren’s eyes narrowed. “Now, Mr. Nightingale. The Lord of the Palace does not appreciate delays.”

With no choice but to comply, we followed Koren out of the storage facility. As we walked, I hung back slightly, pretending to check my records while actually scanning our surroundings. At a junction of corridors, I noticed a heavily guarded door—unusual for a storage area. Six guards stood at attention, their uniforms bearing additional insignias not seen elsewhere in the palace.

I made a mental note of the location before hurrying to catch up with the others.

Daedric’s address turned out to be exactly what I’d suspected—a time-wasting exercise designed to interrupt our investigations. He droned on about “cultural sensitivities” and “appropriate boundaries,” essentially stating that more areas would be restricted going forward.

“The Southern Sea Sun Palace has graciously opened its doors,” he intoned from a raised dais, his crimson eyes sweeping over the assembled investigators. “But certain spaces remain sacred to our traditions and must be respected as such.”

I noticed Magnus and Li exchange glances—this wasn’t unexpected, but it confirmed Daedric’s increasing attempts to obstruct our work.

After the address, our team was reassigned yet again—this time to the eastern residential quarters, where palace staff and lower-ranking officials lived. The message was clear: Daedric was steering us away from sensitive areas.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Jin muttered as we walked. “They’re just moving us in circles.”

“Which means we’re getting close to something,” I replied. “Let’s make the most of this assignment. Talk to the staff, see what they know.”

We split up to cover more ground, each taking a different section of the residential area. I focused on the servants’ quarters, hoping they might be more forthcoming than the officials.

The servants proved cautious but not entirely closed off. Most answered basic questions about their duties and routines, though they clammed up whenever the conversation steered toward restricted areas or unusual activities.

One elderly man, who introduced himself as Terran, was more talkative than most. He’d spent his entire life in the palace, serving three generations of the Solaryn family.

“Things changed about five years ago,” he told me as he folded linens in a small laundry room. “New rules, new restrictions. Areas that had been open for centuries suddenly became off-limits, even to servants who’d worked there for decades.”

“What kind of areas?” I asked casually.

“The deep cellars beneath the central courtyard, for one,” he replied. “Used to help store wine there myself. Now it’s guarded day and night.” He shook his head. “And the western observatory—that was always my favorite place to watch the sunset. Sealed up tight now.”

“Any idea why?”

Terran glanced around nervously before leaning closer. “Some say Lord Daedric made a deal with outsiders. Gave them sanctuary in exchange for something valuable. But it’s just talk among the servants,” he added hastily. “No one knows for certain.”

“These outsiders,” I pressed. “Has anyone seen them?”

“Not exactly, no. But supplies go missing. Extra food disappears from the kitchens. Medical supplies get restocked more often than they should.” He shrugged. “And sometimes, late at night, you hear things. Movement in supposedly empty corridors. Voices where there shouldn’t be any.”

I was about to ask more when a sharp pain lanced through my head. The laundry room blurred, replaced momentarily by another scene—a university library, sunlight streaming through tall windows, the same pink-haired woman sitting across from me, textbooks spread between us. Her lips moved, saying something I couldn’t quite hear.

“Sir? Are you alright?” Terran’s concerned voice pulled me back to reality.

I pressed a hand to my temple, willing the disorientation to pass. “Yes, just… a headache. Thank you for your time, Terran.”

As I left the laundry room, I tried to make sense of these increasingly intrusive visions. They felt like memories, but from a life I’d never lived. And always featuring the same woman—a woman who looked disturbingly like Alyssara.

I met up with the others at our designated rendezvous point. Each had similar stories to share—hints and rumors, but nothing concrete. Staff had noticed changes in recent years, increased secrecy, areas becoming restricted, but no one could (or would) say exactly why.

“It’s like trying to see through fog,” Ava said in frustration. “We’re getting impressions, not information.”

“Sometimes patterns tell us more than facts,” Jin observed. “The consistent timeline—five years ago—matches with the architectural modifications we found. Something changed then.”

“Something that requires medical supplies, extra food, and increased security,” I added, sharing what I’d learned from Terran.

We compiled our findings, slim though they were, and prepared to report back to Magnus.