On one side of the underground plaza a bald man spat roaring flames from his mouth.
He stood upon a platform built of wooden boards, bare from the waist up, fully displaying his solid muscles.
He spat fire and juggled fire sticks, while the audience surrounding the platform waved both hands, their cheers of approval echoing through every corner of this twisted building.
The other end of the plaza was even more clamorous and prosperous.
A large white dog nimbly tumbled through a burning ring of fire.
A clown weaved through the bustling crowd, the bottles and jars he tossed in his hands glittering with the dazzling light of various crystal stones.
Those men and women in tattered clothing clung tightly to one another, stepping to a unique rhythm, lightly tapping the ground with their heels, and dancing together to a lively melody.
The crowd was immersed in carnival as if celebrating the arrival of some festival.
Flora vigorously waved both hands amid the crowd and cheered, just as excited as those ragged spectators.
“Is it fun?” Claire asked loudly.
“Mm!” Flora nodded hard.
Claire raised her hand above her head and waved it lightly several times.
A moment later a clear hawking cry arrived beside them.
Inside the vendor’s food cart were ice creams wrapped in paper bags.
This dessert was made by grinding ice into fragments and then mixing it with cream and sugar; in recent years it had become very popular in the streets and alleys.
Claire handed several copper coins to the vendor and then took the ice cream and gently passed it to Flora.
Flora took a large bite.
The flavors of cream and sugar blended in her mouth, causing her to happily link arms with Claire.
If this were inside the imperial palace, food obtained by people of the lowest class would certainly be regarded by the attendants as poison.
They might wave their hands to knock the ice cream away and then draw firearms to aim at the vendor… Who knew whether those lowly poor wretches did not intend to harm the noble imperial princess?
Yet this ice cream was truly delicious, especially when Claire, as if doting on a little kitten, gently stroked her hair while she ate it.
“Is today some kind of festival? Why are only the people here celebrating?” Flora found it somewhat strange.
The aristocratic districts the carriage had passed through on the road had completely lacked any atmosphere of festival.
“It is related to the Cult of the Dragon. If the Heresy Tribunal saw this scene they would probably say it is a heretical activity of sacrificing to the demonic dragons,” Claire answered.
Before the human calendar began to be calculated, this world had once been ruled by giant dragons.
Five Dragon Kings had erected towers of copper and gold upon the two continents, and humans wearing shackles had prostrated themselves and knelt in worship beneath the towers, regarding those immortal dragons soaring through the heavens as deities.
Then in Star Calendar Year 313 the second hero known as “the Liberator,” Leman, received the holy sword, slew the dragon kings, and liberated the humans beneath the shackles.
The era of dragons thus ended, and the sects that worshipped the dragon race also declined from prosperity to decay.
During the time they were hunted as heretics this sect even lost its own name; the designation “Cult of the Dragon” was a term the scholars of the Church of All Saints used for the heresy.
Yet their faith endured without interruption on the Southern Continent, and even to this day there were believers waiting for the return of the giant dragons.
“But what are they celebrating for?” Flora asked softly.
“It is said that many years ago on this day a dragon died.”
Suddenly all the clamor ceased abruptly.
Even those busy vendors fell silent as if sealed by ice.
Claire and Flora followed everyone’s gazes—just like the opening of a stage play, an actress appeared in the center of the plaza.
The noisy crowd consciously yielded a stage for her.
All sounds fell silent because of her; all gazes gathered because of her.
That woman wore a headdress resembling deer antlers.
Upon her snake-like long train of skirt were dotted bright sequins similar to fish scales.
Beneath the black mask were a pair of golden pupils.
She uttered a high note and in an instant captured everyone’s hearts.
A mournful chant rose upon the simple stage; the language used in the lyrics was more ancient than any language of the present day.
She was playing the part of a queen who was about to pass away.
She had once brought benefit to her subjects, yet had been betrayed by those subjects.
On the verge of death she hoped her subjects would look at her one more time and believe she had not committed the crime of tyranny; she had only longed to create a paradise for her children upon this land.
Yet those subjects whose eyes had been blinded by the radiance of the gods were unwilling to give her a final chance.
They killed the queen’s children.
After the queen personally witnessed the deaths of all her offspring she passed away in the deepest sorrow.
Everyone held their breath as they listened to this ancient tragedy.
The venue that a moment ago had been boiling with human voices now sank into silence; only that silk-like soft song seemed about to weave a gigantic net throughout this thoroughly interconnected Ant Nest.
The fire-spitter stopped his performance; the clown bowed his head in silent mourning; the carnival-goers set aside their dancing; even the white dog lay on the ground and whimpered softly.
“I have never seen this play before.” Flora’s voice trembled slightly; sadness surfaced in her sapphire-clear pupils.
She found it difficult to speak to Claire of the deep stirring within her heart when she heard this song.
That sorrow surged toward her like towering waves and completely swallowed her heart.
“It is probably some kind of religious play of the Cult of the Dragon. They also have their own history.” Claire was likewise drawn by the drama currently being performed and seemed not to notice Flora’s unusual state.
“The era of the Dragon Kings before Star Calendar Year One? Deer antlers, snake body, fish scales… the protagonist of this play is perhaps that Chen King,” Flora voiced her conjecture.
According to the ancient texts remaining from that era, the five Dragon Kings corresponding to the major elements had divided the two continents and established their respective regimes.
The Red King of the fire element ruled the central region of the Northern Continent that is now Albion; the Overlord of the wind element ruled Hibernia and the islands along the coast; the Praise King’s territory of the earth element encompassed the grasslands of the beastmen and the deserts at the junction of the continents; the Sea King’s domain of the water element was the Gallic plain of the present day.
And the Chen King who appeared in the play had ruled the entire Southern Continent; the element it corresponded to remained a historical puzzle.
Legend held that the Chen King controlled the authority of time; the element it corresponded to might be the light element that symbolized divine miracles, or it might be the dark element unique to the races of the Demon Realm; to this day there was still no settled conclusion in academic circles.
Claire shook her head.
“Perhaps. I also do not understand that period of history.”
“The Chen Dragon King recorded in the history books is a tyrannical evil dragon, yet this play presents its story as a tragedy…”
“Don’t forget they are heretics in the eyes of the Church of All Saints. Heretical sects are most enthusiastic about preaching to the poor, and their main method of preaching is to narrate their religious stories through song and dance. Who would write their own god as the great villain in their own story?”
Claire no longer gazed at the woman on the stage but directed her line of sight toward the resplendent golden building at the end of the underground plaza.
“The time is about right. The gambling is about to begin,” Claire said.
“Mm. Let’s go.” Flora nodded lightly, still looking back at the plaza with lingering reluctance.
Two days earlier the telegraph machine of the Red Queen had received a message from Londinium—from Sibyl Vandro, Director-General of the Cerberus Bureau.
This telegram was written to Flora.
The first two paragraphs elaborately praised Princess Flora’s clever mind and outstanding vision; the third paragraph again used extremely bureaucratic wording to describe the conception and blueprint of Operation Changeling.
Claire felt it was probably written on Herta’s behalf.
Only the fourth paragraph began to state the main topic.
According to Sibyl’s description in the telegram, two days later—today—the great enemy on the heresy list of the Church of All Saints, the Cult of the Dragon, would transfer property in the Flea Nest of Paris.
Although the Cult of the Dragon had already split into several orders, every other year they would certainly gather in one place to settle accounts; tonight they would transfer a large sum of money.
The tithe collected by the Church of All Saints was mainly used for church operations, while the Cult of the Dragon also called this sum of money a tithe, aimed at accumulating funds for the revival of the order.
Every year there were approximately three thousand pounds of gold; in an age of chaos this gold could even buy a mercenary legion capable of destroying a small country.
And Sibyl had handed the opportunity to dig out the Cult of the Dragon to Flora.
If Flora could confiscate these three thousand pounds of gold tonight, it would be a critical step for her to obtain votes—counted as Sibyl’s response to the earlier doubts Flora had expressed to Ophelia.
The intelligence also mentioned that the Heresy Tribunal of Caroling had already fixed its sights on the Flea Nest, so there was no need to worry about the safety of the operation.
Claire and the others would be responsible for discovering the location of that gold and protecting Flora before the Heresy Tribunal took over the Ant Nest.
In the final paragraph Sibyl specially instructed Claire that the goal of this mission was only to investigate the Cult of the Dragon; even if the demonkin rebels of the Mutual Aid Society were discovered, she was not to conflict with them.
The princess’s safety came first.
Claire and Flora linked arms and walked to the end of the plaza, standing before the main gate of that building.
Brilliant lights shone from the enormous glass windows.
Upon the white Gothic-style gate wall were carved enormous religious-style reliefs—only what was carved was not angels but groups of dragons.