When the plot-skips players into the game world

Aiwass carefully observed the old ritualist before him, who usually maintained a low profile.

Queen Sofia ascended to the throne sixty years ago. She was not yet twenty at the time.

If the elderly Ibn knew Sofia back then, does that mean... when he met Jacob Alexander, he was actually only in his early twenties?

He sported a white beard, and his naturally curly hair had also turned greying white. Even dressed in the Avalon style, one could still glimpse a hint of a foreigner's temperament in his features.

His greenish pupils were now veiled with a layer of grey due to his age. Perhaps when he was younger, he too had been a handsome youth with profound features, black curly hair, and a beard.

What then did Jacob look like back in the day for Ibn, who had not seen him for decades, to feel a sense of familiarity upon seeing Aiwass?

At this thought, Aiwass was momentarily lost in reflection.

"Jacob Alexander..."

He focused his mind and replied softly, "He was my grandfather."

Ibn looked puzzled, "But I recall, you are not of the Moriarty Family..."

"James Moriarty is my foster father."

Aiwass explained, "When I was just a few years old, my parents and kin were all killed. It was my foster father who raised me."

"...So it was."

Upon hearing this, the old man's eyes, already somewhat cloudy, widened slightly, and he murmured to himself, "Such things happen in Avalon too..."

He fell silent for a while, seeming to age a few more years in the process.

"They were all cursed to death."

Aiwass continued calmly, "According to my investigation over the years, my grandfather died fourteen years ago of 'typhoid'."

"Hah. Typhoid..."

When Ibn heard this, he let out a scoff, "It must have been a typhoid curse. That's sorcery that Jacob invented... His philosophy with curses was to maintain a low profile—best not to let people realize they were under a curse.

"It seems that the person who killed him must have once studied curse magic under him."

It was like an experienced old doctor suddenly laughing upon hearing his students discuss a complicated medical case, interjecting to provide the precise answer.

The sigh that hinted at the inevitability of taking action himself, mixed with nostalgia for the past, exuded a detached yet reliable steadiness.

Aiwass had been wondering why the court ritualists of Avalon were so feeble... After hearing Ibn tell his own story, he had thought that Queen Sofia was merely appreciative of his character and morality.

But the strong confidence emanating from the old man now made Aiwass truly feel his self-assurance.

Even with a low energy level, it did not mean weakness.

"Back then, we, the Hand of the Scaleless, merely wanted to help people deal with some nefarious big shots, get justice for the people, or teach them a lesson. However, the Hand of the Scaleless didn't want to become too famous or to become the reliance and trust of the people."

Ibn sighed, "This was the experience I shared with Jacob."

"...Experience?"

"Yes, experience."

Ibn's pupils were deep, and they held a trace of persistent sorrow, "If you become too famous, people will always come to you for solutions when they're in trouble. But we are not gods, and even gods aren't omnipotent.

"However, people dare not blame gods, yet they dare to blame us. They attribute failures to us not trying our best—although that is also true. But as the number of cases we handle increases, we naturally have to prioritize. If someone comes seeking help and is refused, that too will be frowned upon by others. Not to mention criticism and disapproval from our peers...

"Is it the fault of those who seek help? Of course not. But it's neither our fault nor the fault of critics. Everyone gathers together with good intentions, but why can't a good beginning lead to an equally good ending?"

Ibn seemed to be confiding something or as if whispering to himself.

"These are lessons from my homeland. I shared these things with Jacob, making clear from the very beginning—we are not everyone's saviors. We can never save everyone, so we should not let people have too high expectations of us from the start; we cannot fulfill every task, so we should not let people trust us too much.

"Under Jacob's leadership, the Hand of the Scaleless always maintained a low profile, existing as a secret society. Only a select few who knew of our existence could ask us to do something. And these tasks came at a heavy price... Not that we aimed to profit from it, but to limit people from placing all their hopes on us. From my experience, that would only crush us.

"Only those who are willing to pay any price for revenge are likely to receive our response. Apart from that, we usually take the initiative—seeking what we ourselves should do. We were free at the time, like the legendary outlaws."

The old ritualist reminisced with a sigh, "Honestly, those days were joyful when I think back on them now..."

He looked at Aiwass, with a tentative and self-mocking chuckle, "But do you think we were too heartless? Setting up an association to help others, yet refusing others' requests."

"...No, you were right."

Aiwass's fingers unconsciously tapped the armrest of his wheelchair, murmuring, "No one is omnipotent... therefore, not all requests can be granted. Sympathy could drag you into fields you are not familiar with, decreasing efficiency and success rates considerably."

Aiwass certainly wouldn't blame them. He just felt as if he'd been punched by words.

Wasn't he the same kind of person?

Aiwass was comparatively lucky, having not yet encountered those heartbreaking incidents that could dampen his enthusiasm; or perhaps he was simply strong enough to always fulfill the requests of others.

"As long as the wind is at your back, everyone is a good brother."

Aiwass knew this principle all too well. It was just that he had never failed before, he had become slightly inflated by his own luck.

However...

So Grandfather was also involved in these things back in the day?

No wonder Father chose the path of Dedication and became a Priest...

"So about the manuscript Jacob left behind...do you have any clues?"

Encountering someone who knew his grandfather, Aiwass pressed further, "Some say he might have been murdered because of the manuscript he was about to publish."

"The manuscript? This..."

Old Ibn showed a look of guilt, a laborious regret of wanting to help yet being unable to: "I am very sorry. The Hand of the Scaleless was formed during The Execution King's era, and he passed away two years after I joined. I was arrested shortly after Queen Sofia ascended the throne. After that, I was taken away by Her Majesty.

"I returned once, a year later...because I realized that Queen Sofia and 'The Execution King' were not of the same kind. Perhaps we wouldn't have to oppose the royal family any longer to make Avalon better, to heal people's misfortune. At the time, I intended to form a squad of Ritualists for Her Majesty, and by doing so, I could also give those Curse Ritual Magicians from the Hand of the Scaleless a legitimate status.

"But when I went back to look for Jacob and the others, I found that our old base had been abandoned. All our means of contact had been severed, and I received no response to my letters. I suppose..."

The old man paused here, as if choked by memories, his words turning into a long sigh filled with a gritty heaviness.

—Presumably, they thought I had betrayed them.

Although Ibn didn't say it out loud, Aiwass had already guessed his thoughts.

Rationally, it was very logical. One couldn't blindly entrust the survival of other comrades to Ibn's conscience based on feelings and trust.

But that said, it was still quite hurtful.

...Nevertheless, that was something from sixty years ago.

The Hand of the Scaleless gradually faded into obscurity to be replaced by Noble Red, which happened around fifty years ago. That is to say, it seemed that Ibn truly didn't know about what happened ten years later...

Unfortunately, the lead was cut off again.

Aiwass felt somewhat regretful.

But with hopeful optimism, he continued, "It seems that my parents were also eradicated because of that manuscript. According to my investigations, they were likely murdered by the Hook Demon."

"...The Hook Demon?"

Ibn furrowed his brows, "There should have been a professional Cursing Sorcerer, right? Could it be..."

"No. It probably wasn't someone from the Hand of the Scaleless."

Aiwass explained, "The Cursing Sorcerer's name is Aziz. Aziz Ben Abdul. Does that ring any bells for you?"

Upon hearing this name, Ibn's expression abruptly changed.

It was as though an aged lion suddenly opened its eyes, shakily standing up, or like a dying wolf under the moonlight opening its eyes, that resigned yet desolate intent to kill sending a shiver down one's spine.

"—Where is he?"

"...He's long gone. Supposedly crossed the desert and went to some eastern country... perhaps Parthia, maybe Horus."

Aiwass first responded, then hesitated before asking, "Do you know him?"

This was an unforeseen development for him.

He had initially thought he could learn about his grandfather from Ibn...but it turned out that Ibn knew very little about his grandfather, yet seemed to know the Cursing Sorcerer who had killed the Alexanders' Couple.

"A large black man, right?"

Ibn asked in return.

"Yes. His complexion is dark brown, and he's somewhat hunchbacked."

Aiwass nodded in affirmation, recounting the appearance of the man he had seen in the advanced ritual: "At that time, he wore bulky gemstone rings on all ten fingers... About fifteen years ago, he appeared to be a man in his fifties. By now, he should be in his sixties or seventies."

"...It's him."

After a long silence, Ibn spoke softly, "Back in Parthia, it was he who betrayed me.

"He was my junior as well as my nephew. At the same time, after the destruction of the city, he was the slave I had rescued.

"He betrayed us, who were wanted by the law, in exchange for the status of a free man, a large house, eight female slaves, and became a Cursing Sorcerer serving the Benevolent Lords...

"...So he has come to Avalon as well."