239 A Scholar’s Execution Ground (1/2)

Half an hour later, it was the school board’s internal meeting. Only Ingmar and the old man who had hurried over were in the conference room.

The old lawyer, who had served many families, sat behind the table with his fingers clasped. He quietly gazed at the panicking Ingmar with a cold and serious expression.

”Mr. Ingmar,” he said in a low voice. ”I shall represent the school board and once again perform interrogation regarding the interpretation results of the Voynich Manuscript. Is Abraham’s plagiarism report valid or not?”

Ingmar seemed not to hear him. He stared at the table and muttered something, his spirits entirely shaken. ”Impossible…how could it pass…I clearly…that Abraham…”

”Ingmar!” The old lawyer suddenly slammed the table. The loud sound caused Ingmar’s shoulder to shake as he slowly looked up. ”Do not avoid the question and face the school board’s interrogation! Did you plagiarize Abraham’s results or not?!”

Seeing his furious face, Ingmar seemed to see the shocked and stunned expressions of the noble school board members. His expression changed and, after a long while, he suddenly chuckled. It was incomparably mocking.

”Does it still matter to you if I plagiarized or not?”

The old lawyer’s face darkened. Without another word, he picked up his folder and left quietly.

Only Ingmar remained in the silent conference room. He looked at the empty seats before him in the stillness. Broken laughter sounded once again; it was both evil and carefree.

Until a sigh sounded behind him.

A seemingly familiar voice rang in his ears. ”Now, there is no way out for you all, other than supporting me—that’s what you think, right?”

The laughter cut off abruptly.

Ingmar’s expression stiffened; he looked back with difficulty but only saw a crow. The crow looked at him too; its eyes seemed to be looking at dust.

When the crow perched on his shoulder, his body bent under the light figure. Its pressure was too heavy.

The crow said, ”You think that the parliament has entered the path of no return and will support you to the end, right?”

Ingmar’s finger trembled and his facial muscles twitched, but he did not reply.

”Congratulations, you’re correct,” the crow said lightly. ”We’ll support you even if you did plagiarize. Ten days later, the Musician’s Union will openly verify and debate the charges. The parliament will use our connections to help you win. Are you happy?”

Happy? Ingmar felt no joy but rather a chill go down his spine. This was the chill of having all his secrets revealed and laid out under the sun. And the oddness of the parliament’s generous blessing…were they not angry at all?

”You…” Ingmar gulped and tried hard to speak but his voice trembled. ”What do you want?”

The crow sighed as if helpless. It was lamenting on an idiot. ”Ingmar, you should know that what makes you proud is meaningless to us,” it said. ”If you want to talk about money with us, you can leave now. The parliament won’t make any deal with you. But you can’t leave, right? You know better than anyone that once you exit this room, no one in this world will be able to save you.”

Ingmar’s shoulder trembled. He wanted to stand up and leave but the crow was perched on his shoulder. It was such a light crow but its weight bent his spine. He did not dare to rise…because he knew that if he showed the slightest bit of protest, everything would be over. His future, his accomplishments, his everything would all be buried in darkness.

And he would follow.

And so he lowered his head submissively, voluntarily putting on an invisible chain.

”Indeed, the parliament has wasted a large amount of resources on you through the years,” the crow said lightly. ”I’m sure you know that even a Resonance level musician can be hired by the parliament. It’s only a matter of money. The parliament never fears to pay any price, Ingmar. We do not fear any price.

”We think highly of you because there aren’t many scholars who are skilled in explaining ancient texts. Coincidentally, we need you to explain a certain thing at a certain time and help guide our path. You know that there are still many replacements, many…so don’t do any other stupid things and test our patience, alright?”

”Guide?” Ingmar was covered in sweat. ”Guide what path?”

”Didn’t you already guess it?” The crow laughed. ”The Blood Path on the back of this city, Ingmar. Now is the time for you to know but you’ve already guessed a lot, haven’t you?”

Cold sweat dripped down Ingmar’s face, dropping on the ground and evaporating. In the end, he closed his eyes and said through clenched teeth, ”I—I will help you.”

”Ingmar, it’s not you who is helping us, but us who is helping you,” the crow murmured in his ear. ”Now you can open your eyes. Take a look at your friends.”

Ingmar’s finger shook. He opened his eyes in confusion and could barely breathe.

The quiet conference room had become filled with newcomers without him realizing. Not a single seat was empty. Sharp eyes gazed at him; they were chilling and terrifying.

Hundreds upon thousands of birds had flown in without a sound. They filled every corner and looked down on him.

”Welcome to the parliament, my friend.” The crow laughed meaningfully. ”Welcome to the true core of the country.”

-

In a suburban manor of the Burgundy capital, hurried knocking sounded.