Chapter 95: The Chest & Prince Anish's Suspicion

The next morning, Ruchir, Garret, Alice, and Flippy headed to the mission center of the Thousand Leaves Academy. The building was bustling with activity, as students and staff moved about with purpose. The walls were adorned with mission boards filled with requests and reports.

Garret led the way to the receptionist, a kind-faced woman named Lydia, who was known for her sympathetic nature. Garret, ever the actor, put on a somber expression. "We need to report our mission as a failure," he said, his voice filled with regret.

Lydia's eyes widened with concern. "Oh, dear! What happened?"

Garret sighed dramatically. "We encountered a group of bandits far stronger than we anticipated. We tried our best, but they were too powerful. We had no choice but to retreat." He hung his head, looking genuinely defeated.

Lydia's eyes welled up with tears. "Oh, Garret, you did the right thing by coming back safely. Your lives are more important than any mission. You mustn't be too hard on yourselves."

Alice, standing beside Garret, was stupefied. Could such an act be believed to be true by some people? She felt like she must be dreaming.

Garret, feeding off Lydia's sympathy, continued, "We appreciate your understanding. It was a tough decision, but we couldn't risk our lives any further."

Lydia reached out and patted Garret's arm reassuringly. "You did the right thing, Garret. Stay strong, all of you. You'll have another chance to succeed."

Alice, unable to hold back, whispered to Ruchir, "I can't believe she's buying this. It's like we're in some kind of bizarre play."

Ruchir nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Garret does have a way with words."

After their report, the group returned to their dormitory. Garret and Ruchir shared a room, a cozy space filled with books, weapons, and various artifacts from their adventures. Alice, making herself at home, sprawled on Garret's bed.

Garret mockingly said, "Alice, you know, for someone who complains about others' behavior, you sure have no problem making yourself at home."

Alice shamelessly ignored him, inspecting her nails. "Oh, hush, Garret. I'm just making sure you keep this place tidy."

Ruchir, seated at his desk, took out the mysterious chest they had acquired. He turned it over in his hands, observing it carefully. "This chest is made of an unknown material. The craftsmanship is exceptional, unlike anything I've seen before. The drawings and designs on it are intricate and ancient."

Garret, peering over Ruchir's shoulder, nodded. "It definitely hides some ancient secret. Maybe a treasure map or a powerful artifact." He grinned, turning to Alice. "What do you think, Alice? Ready for another adventure?"

Alice rolled her eyes. "Let's try opening it first, shall we? Before you get carried away with your fantasies."

Garret, ever confident, said, "Not to worry. I've got just the thing." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small book titled "Hundred Ways to Open a Chest."

Ruchir and Alice exchanged amused glances as Garret flipped to the first page. "First Method: Open it with a key. Since it's a chest, it must have a key." Garret stared at the book in disbelief. "What kind of useless advice is this?"

Alice snickered. "Who would have thought a chest might need a key?"

Garret continued, feeling slightly annoyed. "Second Method: Use Brute Force. One Force breaks a thousand laws, you know this saying, right?"

He looked up, only to find Ruchir and Alice laughing openly. "Seriously?" Alice chuckled. "Did you buy this book from a joke shop?"

Garret scowled but turned to the next page. "Third Method: Sing to it. Sometimes, an enchanting melody can unlock the most stubborn of locks."

Alice burst out laughing. "Please, Garret, serenade the chest for us."

Garret, feeling more foolish by the second, flipped to the next method. "Fourth Method: Dance around it. The mystical dance of the Wind Spirit can sometimes persuade a chest to open."

Ruchir was almost doubled over with laughter. "This is the most ridiculous book ever."

Garret, his face red with embarrassment, was about to turn to the fifth method when Alice grabbed his hand. "No more, Garret. We can't take it anymore. We'll die laughing if this continues."

Ruchir, still chuckling, nodded in agreement. "Yeah, let's give it a rest. We've had our fill of comedy for the day."

Garret, feeling utterly deflated, closed the book with a sigh. "Was I scammed? A veteran scammer like me, scammed by someone else?"

Alice patted his shoulder, still giggling. "Looks like it, Garret. Maybe next time, buy a book that doesn't sound like a joke."

Ruchir, regaining his composure, placed a hand on the chest again. "We'll figure this out without the help of that ridiculous book. We've faced worse challenges."

Garret nodded, albeit reluctantly. "You're right. But I still think we should give the dance a try. Just for fun."

Alice rolled her eyes. "Spare us, please."

Despite the light-hearted moment, there was a palpable sense of camaraderie in the room. They had faced a lot together, and despite the challenges and the mysterious chest, they knew they could rely on each other.

The group spent the next few hours discussing possible ways to open the chest, without resorting to the absurd methods in Garret's book. Ruchir examined the intricate designs, hoping to find some clue.

Alice suggested looking for hidden mechanisms or pressure points that might trigger the lock. Garret, trying to redeem himself, offered practical suggestions, albeit occasionally slipping into more humorous ideas.

As the night grew darker, they decided to call it a day. They would continue their efforts the next morning, hoping that with fresh eyes and renewed energy, they might finally unlock the secrets of the chest.

Before they parted ways, Garret couldn't resist one last joke. "Who knows, maybe tomorrow I'll come up with the ultimate method: tickling the chest open."

Alice groaned, but there was a smile on her face. "Goodnight, Garret. Don't let the chests bite."

Meanwhile, in a grand chamber within the Imperial Palace, Anish Bluefield sat behind an ornate mahogany desk, a letter in his hands. The room was dimly lit by flickering candles, casting long shadows on the walls adorned with intricate tapestries. Anish, a man of noble bearing with sharp, intelligent eyes, was deeply engrossed in the contents of the letter. A smirk played on his lips, his amusement barely concealed.

"So, the Sayys have finally gone mad," he muttered to himself. "They're conducting an extensive search on Blackwood Mountain." He leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping rhythmically on the desk. "What could they possibly have lost that warrants such desperation?"

Standing beside him was a black-cloaked figure, his face obscured by a hood. This man, known only by the prince as Shadow, was Anish's most trusted advisor and spy master. He moved silently, his presence barely noticeable, yet his mind was sharp and ever-watchful.

Anish turned to Shadow, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "What do you make of this?"

Shadow inclined his head slightly, his voice a soft whisper that seemed to blend with the shadows. "Your Highness, according to our reports, it seems the Sayys have indeed lost something of great value on Blackwood Mountain. The Blackwood gang, known for their audacious plunders, are likely behind it. However, it appears that the gang has since been eradicated, possibly by their own backer, to cover any traces."

Anish continued tapping his fingers on the desk, his expression contemplative. "That's a plausible scenario. A ruthless backer cleaning up loose ends to maintain secrecy. But…" He paused, eyes glinting with curiosity. "I believe there's more to this story."

Shadow remained silent, his gaze fixed on the prince, waiting for his next words.

Anish leaned forward, his voice low and measured. "What if it wasn't the backer who annihilated the Blackwood gang? What if it was a third party entirely?"

The suggestion hung in the air, thick with intrigue. Shadow's eyes flickered with a hint of surprise, but he remained silent, absorbing the prince's hypothesis.

"If the backer wanted to cover up something as significant as what the Sayys lost, they would have done so efficiently, leaving no survivors," Anish continued, his tone confident. "Yet, we know that some bandits survived. That indicates a less controlled, more chaotic intervention."

Shadow nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his eyes. "You believe a third party seized the opportunity, perhaps for their own gain?"

"Precisely," Anish said, a smile curving his lips. "This third party, whoever they are, might be the key to unraveling this mystery. They're bold, resourceful, and willing to cross powerful factions. Such audacity should not go unnoticed."

Anish's mind raced with possibilities. Who could be daring enough to intercept a scheme involving both the Sayys and the backer of the Blackwood gang? And more importantly, what was their endgame?

"Shadow, I want you to investigate everything about Blackwood Mountain," Anish ordered, his voice firm. "Its history, the recent activities of the Blackwood gang, any unusual occurrences—everything. Leave no stone unturned."

Shadow bowed deeply, his cloak rustling softly. "As you command, Your Highness. I shall begin the investigation immediately."

Anish watched as Shadow slipped silently out of the room, disappearing into the labyrinthine corridors of the palace. Alone, he turned his attention back to the letter, his thoughts a whirlwind of speculation and strategy.

The Sayys' intense search indicated that whatever they had lost was not only valuable but potentially dangerous in the wrong hands. If a third party indeed held this item, it could shift the balance of power in unforeseen ways. Anish's mind worked tirelessly, contemplating the ramifications of each potential scenario.

Outside, the palace grounds were serene, the gardens meticulously tended, the fountains whispering secrets of times long past. Yet, within the walls of the palace, intrigue and power struggles brewed, hidden beneath layers of civility and tradition.

Anish knew that in the world of politics and power, information was the most valuable currency. Whoever controlled the flow of information could shape the course of events. With Shadow's investigation underway, Anish felt a surge of anticipation. The mystery of Blackwood Mountain was a puzzle, and he was determined to be the one to solve it.

He rose from his chair and walked to the window, gazing out at the vast expanse of the imperial city. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the rooftops and spires. The beauty of the scene was a stark contrast to the darkness of the machinations taking place within.

Anish's expression hardened. He knew that the days ahead would be challenging, filled with deception and danger. But he thrived on such challenges. The game of power was one he had been born to play, and he intended to play it well.

With a final glance at the letter, Anish made a silent vow. He would uncover the truth behind the events on Blackwood Mountain, expose the third party involved, and ensure that the balance of power remained firmly in his favor.