Chapter 734: The Hunt Behind the Mask

The masquerade had already begun. On the main stage, a master of ceremonies handled the opening while attendants guided each pair to their assigned table: one human and one Advisor. Even so, almost no one stayed seated. The whole ballroom buzzed with conversation, music, and motion. Dancers moved between the tables, their outfits glittering beneath the cold light of the chandeliers, while ice statues filled the hall with an almost aggressive kind of luxury.

“To the New Era,” a god remarked as he approached Luke and Artemis.

“To the New Era,” she replied, giving him an elegant smile.

Luke had received a few instructions before stepping inside. Artemis had explained that greeting someone with a handshake was not common among gods. A nod or a slight bow was normal. A handshake was too intimate, and touching a god without permission, especially at an official event, was basically asking for trouble.

The gods I’ve met are so eccentric I almost forgot this noble etiquette crap existed...

The god tried to make conversation with Artemis, but she deflected him with practiced ease.

“And which order do you belong to, miss?”

“A modest one... small, you know...”

She was terrible at lying.

The two of them kept moving through the ballroom, greeting pairs as they went. It was also Artemis’s way of helping him search for Elizabeth without drawing too much suspicion.

Will I even recognize her? Or did sixteen years erase that too?

The doubt weighed on Luke more than he wanted to admit. He greeted masked women, studied their eyes, searched for any hesitation, any quick flicker away, any sign of recognition or escape.

“Luke, some acquaintances are coming,” Artemis whispered.

“Lady Artemis?”

“Yes,” she said, her tone turning more serious than usual. Her relaxed posture vanished, replaced by something colder, something divine.

“Forgive me for disturbing you,” said the god approaching them. “I am Elian. I’m not sure if you remember me.”

“I do. Specialist in herbology, medicine, potions, and tea. A kind-looking fellow, though we all know your organization profits quite a bit from war.”

Elian gave a low laugh.

“A memory as sharp as it is accurate, Lady Artemis. My gratitude to you, and to the Order we serve above us.”

He bowed. Artemis returned the gesture, acknowledging what they both served.

When he walked away, Luke leaned slightly toward her.

“What’s that guy’s deal?”

“Some orders answer to higher divine orders. Those answer to others. Eventually, you reach the main one.”

“So it’s one giant pyramid.”

“More or less. Some orders don’t even know what sits at the top. There are too many layers above them. How do you think Primordials became myths to some?”

“Makes sense.”

They walked to a table and each took a glass of wine.

“So... if I ever become a god...”

“You will have your own order. That order will be subordinate to mine, and I am subordinate to the order whose name we are not going to say here.”

Seen from that angle, with over a hundred organizations stacked like a pyramid, Luke finally understood how a Primordial could be considered a myth. To some, the structure above them was so distant it stopped feeling real.

As they walked, Artemis subtly pointed with her eyes.

“That one is a god specialized in forging, especially armor construction.”

He was a god of the dwarven race.

“And that one over there is a messenger god, a war informant. Whoever chose him as an Advisor probably has some kind of scout class. Or something similar to yours, assassin.”

At some point, Luke drifted away from her. Artemis started a conversation with a few gods, drawing attention to herself while he observed the participants more freely.

Most of the men are looking at her. Great.

Even so, the numbers were absurd. There were 1,238 participants in the ballroom, each one accompanied by a god. One of them was Elizabeth. Somehow, he had to find her before the room swallowed her whole.

Fine. Time for [Perception Sphere].

He could use that power here because it was weak. Discreet. Nothing like a [Shadow Mana Explosion]. The skill, however, was excellent. Before, Luke had shaped his perception manually, almost crudely, forcing his mind to create a field around himself. Now, the skill did it for him.

The difference was absurd.

The sphere was perfect, stable, and far larger than any improvised version he had ever managed to produce. Inside it, Luke owned a territory of absolute perception. He felt everything. Even the oxygen.

The difference is insane. But that’s because I’ve always used an inferior version of the sphere. Now that it’s an actual skill, even the ability’s basic function is improving.

Then he tested his theory. Luke inverted the sphere’s perception. Instead of sensing everything around him from the center, the sphere pushed his perception outward, scanning the full radius of the field.

The downside is, since I’m the center, I can’t feel anything inside the sphere. Doing this in battle would be insane. I could die before I even noticed.

He started walking through the ballroom. As he passed people, he could feel tiny vibrations in their bodies, subtle shifts of muscle and breath.

Now I can read their muscles. Elizabeth, if you move away from me when I pass, I’ll know. If you activate perception concealment magic, I’ll know that too, because I’ll be seeing you physically but feeling nothing through the sphere.

Let’s see who’s good at this game of cat and mouse.

Luke circled the ballroom, making just enough conversation to look natural. As expected, the gods were invisible to the sphere.

Those guys are way above this, after all.

But there were humans the field could not detect either.

Well, look at that. Nice way to spot assassins pretending to be civilians. And a terrible way to realize how many there are.

Luke stopped behind a woman.

“Hello.”

She turned around. Even behind the mask, her eyes narrowed.

“What? I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone.”

“My bad.”

He kept walking. It was not his mother. From the little he remembered of her face, it did not match. Neither did her height.

She’s hidden from the perception field. Guess she really doesn’t want to talk to anyone.

Luke went to a table lined with several pitchers and poured himself some punch. He stood there for a few moments, watching the party continue.

“Don’t like crowds either?” asked a man standing beside him.

“No. Feels like someone could kill you out of nowhere. Too many people too close,” Luke said, taking a drink.

The man let out a nasal laugh.

“Same here.”

Luke kept watching, refining his Perception field more and more. Now he focused on feminine silhouettes. He knew where every woman was, at least the ones not using concealment skills.

One by one, he began mentally excluding women from the sphere once he visually confirmed they were not his mother. He narrowed the number little by little. Out of the 1,238 participants, 571 were women.

“Pretty balanced, don’t you think?” Luke asked the man. “The number of women who beat Stage 3.”

“I think it makes sense.”

Luke frowned, confused, and took another sip.

“In nature, females are usually the ones most invested in protecting their young,” the man said. “Males often aren’t. Find another mate, make more offspring. Even among humans, abandonment rates are high.”

“Yeah... I guess.”

“Females fight to protect their young, even at a disadvantage. Now remove the physical disadvantage. You think they wouldn’t get strong? If they could surpass not just one male, but an entire pack of them, you think they wouldn’t?”

“I imagine they would.”

“That’s how it is with the system. Women tend to want power for the same reason anyone does. Survival. Protection. Instinct.” He tilted his head. “That’s what I think, anyway.”

An awkward silence settled between them.

“Sorry. I’m not good at conversations,” the man said.

“Don’t worry about it. Solid drunk talk.”

“Lucius.” The man held out his hand.

“Luke.”

“Participant 666...? Strange number.”

“Yeah. Strange number. But I don’t believe in numbers.”

“You should. Numbers can be magical. There’s a reason for 51.”

“I guess. What’s yours?”

The man moved aside the rose pinned to his tuxedo, revealing his identifier.

“Number 1238.”

The Reaper King.

“A crowd is coming. I’m out, Luke. Good luck at the auction. We’ll be rivals there, though...” Lucius shrugged. “I don’t have many points.”

Then he walked away.

A large group was advancing through the ballroom. People looked curiously toward something being carried to the stage, a sign that the auction was about to begin. Luke went back to watching the women. He walked, listened to conversations, met eyes, checked reactions. Nothing.

There are 1,238 participants here. No one is allowed to leave. No one even can. How am I missing her?

He knew his mother was in that ballroom. This was the best chance he would ever have in his life.

No. I can’t let this slip by.

Once the auction began, he would no longer be able to move around freely, checking faces and forcing conversations. After that, it might be too late.

I’m losing her.

Anxiety climbed through his chest, squeezing like an invisible hand. Luke stopped, took a deep breath, and reset all the information from his [Perception Sphere]. He started over from zero. Every face he confirmed was not hers was excluded from the sphere’s mental analysis.

You’re probably among the people hiding their presence from perception. Does that mean a stealth class?

In that case, he needed to combine sight and perception. He could feel everyone within range of the field, but now he began searching for the ones he could not feel. The invisible ones.

Man, man, man...

He listed them mentally, moving through each one.

“Dear participants, the auction will begin in a few minutes. Warm your hearts and loosen your grip on those points,” announced a voice that reverberated through the entire ballroom.

No. Not yet. Too soon.

“Find her?” Artemis asked as she passed by him.

“No...”

“She’s here, Luke. You know that.” Her voice lowered a little. “I’m sorry I can’t help more. I’m forbidden from using divine powers here.”

“It’s fine.”

He kept walking.

[Your Dark Lord Relic is almost finished being forged...]

Did that notification really have to show up right now?

Ever since he won the event, the Dark Lord title interface had remained locked. But now, Luke was finally close to finding out what this so-called relic actually was.

“Dear participants, our auction is beginning.”

Luke had lost the battle.

Fine.

Not the war.

“Those who will not be participating in the auction, the exit is now available.”

He was near the exit. Thirty-seven people began leaving the ballroom.

Now I’ll play the odds. If I were someone running from my son, this would be the moment to leave.

Of the thirty-seven people, twelve were women.

Luke tried using perception, but nearly half of them were hidden from the sphere.

Is she in the group of five or the group of seven?

“Participant 666, you are not authorized to leave. Your name is on the auction list,” an attendant said, approaching him.

Luke saw the women moving away. The attendant was coming straight toward him.

I’m losing her.

He had one move left.

“Elizabeth Moon!” he shouted toward the group.

And in that instant, he knew.

“Found you.”

Luke ran.

“Curiosity gave you away. You’re the only woman who didn’t turn when I said that name.”

The woman didn’t turn around. Then she started walking again.

“I’m talking to you,” Luke said.

She was the only one who had not turned. The only one avoiding his gaze.

“Yes?” she answered, still facing away.

Luke froze.

Is that her voice?

He did not remember. Too much time had passed. And voices could be altered by magic. Even without magic, a person’s tone changed. For one second, he almost got lost in useless possibilities. Then the woman turned around.

Unlike most of the guests, her mask covered almost her entire face.

“Please. Take off the mask,” Luke said.

“I don’t understand why you’re asking me that.”

“It doesn’t matter. I need to see your face.”

She hesitated. “Did I kill someone you knew or something?”

Luke’s heart hammered in his chest. It felt too loud, like she might hear it. The sound of the ballroom grew distant and muffled while everything around him slowed. The sharp mind that had saved him from impossible situations so many times went blank. No plan, no lie, no argument.

“I need to know who you are,” he said at last. “I’m looking for someone. I think it’s you.”

“I don’t see why I owe you that.”

He froze again. Something tight and ugly rose in his throat.

The woman turned to leave.

“Wait!” Luke rushed after her. “My name is Luke Moon. I turned twenty-one this week. Sixteen years ago, the person I’m looking for disappeared. Her name is Elizabeth Moon. She’s my mother. Are you her?”

The words came out all at once.

The woman turned slowly. “I’m sorry, but I’m not who you’re looking for.”

Then she kept walking. Her heels echoed in Luke’s head, each step farther away.

No... no, that can’t be.

She was leaving. Luke clenched his fist and ran. Fast. If she wouldn’t take off the mask, he would rip it off himself. Even if the hotel threw him out for it. Before he could touch her, something appeared in front of him. He moved so fast it felt like he had always been there. A man in a white robe caught Luke’s wrist with a calm smile on his face. His strength, however, was absurd. It felt like he was about to crush Luke’s entire arm.

“Is my ward troubling you?” the man asked.

The being in front of him was a god.

“I need to talk to her.”

“But she isn’t interested in talking to you.” The smile stayed in place. “I’ll ask politely only once. Step away.”

“No.” Luke’s voice came out low and raw. “There is no fucking way I’m backing off now. I’ve been waiting for this since I was five goddamn years old. Fuck you.”

Luke yanked his arm away so hard he broke his own hand. For a moment, the god looked confused. Pain exploded through Luke’s wrist, but he moved toward the woman anyway. A shadow crossed his vision. In the next instant, the god was in front of him again.

“Wait, Siegfried!” the woman said, appearing beside the god.

“Don’t worry. This one is only making a scene.”

“No.” She looked at Luke. “This will be faster.”

Then she removed the mask.

“See? I’m sorry, but I’m not the person you’re looking for.”

Something inside Luke broke. It was not her.

By the time Luke snapped back, Artemis was already beside him, one hand on his shoulder.

“You really did a number on yourself.”

She took a potion from her storage item. A single drop was enough for Luke to feel his hand knitting itself back together.

“That should take care of the pain,” Artemis said.

Luke flexed his fingers. His hand was fine. The rest of him wasn’t.

He returned to the ballroom.

Artemis gave an excuse for his absence, and the two of them sat at their table while the auction took place. Items were carried onto the stage one after another. Each participant had a paddle to raise if they wanted to bid. Floating descriptions appeared above the tables, presenting details about the objects, recommended classes, and possible uses. But Luke barely saw any of it. He was stuck inside his own head.

He had sworn it was that woman. There was no way it could have been anyone else in that ballroom. Logic told him he had let her slip away and would have to restart the search from zero. But that was not what hurt the most. What crushed him was simpler. His mother didn’t want to see him.

“A magical dress, ideal for priestess-type classes. Do we have a bid?”

The item description appeared floating in front of them.

“Don’t make that face, Luke,” Artemis said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “There’s still the lecture. You’ll have another chance there.”

“It was her.”

“What?”

“That woman. She was my mother.”

Her face had been different. Very different. Even so, the certainty sat inside him.

“She changed her face. Maybe with a magic item or a skill. That’s possible, right? With some kind of special authorization from the hotel?”

Artemis thought for a few seconds.

“Hmm... She would have to request authorization, explain her reasons, and the hotel would decide whether that kind of magic should be allowed. But yes, it’s possible. As long as the person has enough points to cover the cost.”

Luke raised his hand, placed a bid, and smiled. The pain stayed. But now he was awake.

“I already know who she is. Even if she’s running, everything just got easier. At the lecture, I’m going to confront her.”

He finally paid attention to the auction.

“Artemis, can you find out what organization that god of hers belonged to?”

She gave him a sad look.

“I’m sorry, Luke, but I’m not Samael. I don’t have the freedom to wander around asking questions. I can only stay near you. And now that you understand what this mark on my forehead means, you can imagine why.”

“My bad. I can’t put that weight on you.” Luke looked toward the stage, but his mind was already somewhere else. “I have to solve this. She won’t get away from me again.”

***

Elizabeth Moon moved through the hotel quickly, careful not to draw attention. Even so, it was hard to keep her composure. That night had been strange. The ballroom had felt less like a party and more like a battlefield for assassins. She had felt something searching for her presence all night, probing, relentless, and growing sharper by the minute. Part of her was proud of how much Luke had grown. The rest of her was terrified he would find her.

When the elevator doors opened, she stepped inside without even checking where it was headed.

“It was difficult to get authorization for you to use that item, Elizabeth,” Siegfried said, entering right behind her.

She touched her face and pulled away a thin layer of false skin. The film turned white in her hand, revealing itself as a mask.

“It was an emergency.”

“I don’t take part in petty human games.” Siegfried watched her coldly. “I am far above that. And you forfeited your place in the auction.”

“It was necessary.”

“Remember that there are greater forces above you.” His voice remained calm, but it carried a threat. “The God of Assassination does not tolerate failure.”