"But Zwillingstürme is different; there are countless casters gathered there, and the lingering traces produced by various spells are far more numerous, making the entire environment incredibly murky. As a result, the Confusion Charm is even harder to detect within the background noise. After all, ordinary magic leaves a direct impression on the target, but the Confusion Charm operates under a different principle; this spell is anchored upon ourselves. In other words, the structural signs of the magic remain on us, while onlookers only experience the faint remnants of the sensory resonance."
Flandre spoke eloquently, confidently breaking down the mechanics of the art.
Seeing the child so certain of her theories, Clever found herself with nothing left to argue.
"It's just a pity it's currently the height of summer; if it were late autumn, Zwillingstürme would be at its most breathtaking," Clever noted. Once she no longer felt consumed by the immediate fear of their group being uncovered, she began sharing her knowledge of the capital with the others.
"You have actually visited before?" Flandre asked, her eyes shining with curiosity.
"I passed through once during the late autumn harvest, and I must admit, the scenery left a massive impression on my mind. The weather was flawless that day; under the bright sun, the entirety of Zwillingstürme was bathed in a deep gold, making it feel as though you were walking through a magnificent treasury." Clever recalled the distant vista, her expression softening as she thoroughly enjoyed the memory.
Flandre turned her head toward her older sister. "Sister, should we stay and enjoy ourselves here for a while?"
Remilia shook her head firmly. "Let us head toward Rhodes Island to meet up with the rest of our household first. Once that matter is settled, you may return and play here for as long as you wish."
Hearing the decision, Flandre remembered that their main party still needed to rendezvous with their companions, so she could only nod in compliance. "Alright then!"
"Wait, did you just say Rhodes Island?"
Sitting nearby, Clever suddenly bristled, her entire posture tensing up. She stared at the occupants of the carriage with a sharp, guarded look. "Are you people affiliated with Rhodes Island? No, that cannot be right... I have kept tabs on their roster, and I have never heard of individuals matching your descriptions."
Remilia offered a calm, dismissive shake of her head at the young woman's sudden display of anxiety. "No, we do not belong to their organization. We simply happen to know a few prominent figures from Rhodes Island. A close companion of ours was recently invited there to assist with a project, and we are currently en route to find her. From your intense reaction, it appears your relations with Rhodes Island are not particularly warm?"
Hearing the question, Clever's expression grew immensely complicated.
Her relationship with Rhodes Island? The intelligence network known as the Rose Riverside naturally didn't possess a single coin's worth of a formal relationship with them. However, the true predecessor of Rhodes Island was Babel—the great Babel led by Her Highness Theresa.
The Rose Riverside had once served as one of Babel's hidden eyes and a primary source of strategic intelligence. As a dedicated member of that network, her loyalty and deep affection for Theresa were beyond any shadow of doubt. Following the tragic demise of Her Highness, the sisters of the Riverbank had collapsed into total silence, as if the entire network had vanished into thin air overnight.
Yet, Clever was well aware that every single one of her sisters was quietly watching the progression of Rhodes Island, waiting to see exactly how far this new entity, which had inherited Theresa's structural legacy, could actually go. And then there was the matter of Theresa's sudden death... there were far too many suspicious details surrounding that tragedy, so many that the remaining members of the network didn't even dare to investigate the matter too deeply.
Now that she knew Flandre and the others were heading straight toward that very destination, Clever felt a deep restlessness swelling within her heart. Originally, she had planned to locate a convenient stopping point along the road to slip away and reunite with the local cells of her network. But now... should she take this opportunity to go and see the organization for herself?
The idea took root in Clever's mind, growing uncontrollably with every passing second. She swallowed hard, casting a hesitant look toward Flandre. There seemed to be a subtle note of amusement hidden within the child's bright smile, as if she had thoroughly parsed her internal conflict and was simply waiting for her to voice the request out loud.
After a brief internal struggle, she finally spoke. "Would it be permissible for me to journey alongside you?"
"Together? All the way to Rhodes Island?" Remilia looked over at her, displaying a touch of surprise.
Clever nodded quickly. "Yes. I have heard of Rhodes Island's prominent reputation across the lands, but I have never witnessed their operations with my own eyes. It would be a profound comfort if I could personally see the environment where Her Highness once labored."
By this point, Remilia was no longer the completely ignorant traveler she had been upon her arrival in this world. From Clever's choice of words, she easily deduced that the "Her Highness" being referenced was none other than Theresa. She had to admit, the deceased monarch must have possessed an incredibly powerful sense of personal charisma; even though she had been gone for nearly two years, her followers remained entirely unable to forget her memory.
"You may accompany us," Remilia agreed, granting her permission to join the trek. As for what would happen afterward—whether the young woman chose to remain at the facility or decided to part ways early along the trail—the household would not restrict her movements.
Clever offered a sincere expression of gratitude to the mistress.
Amidst their casual conversation, the carriage continued its steady progress toward the twin-spire capital. The closer they drew to the heart of the territory, the more refined the surrounding geography became. The environment was a complete departure from the smoke-choked industrial streets of Londinium; Zwillingstürme projected an atmosphere of profound romance and high artistry.
The entire city had been seamlessly integrated within the layout of a vast forest. When the group finally emerged from the dense canopies of the old woods, the majestic city walls suddenly materialized before their eyes like a hidden paradise rising from the earth. Although the missing autumn colors meant they couldn't witness the capital's absolute peak beauty, the lush greenery of midsummer lent the white stone structures an incredible sense of vitality.
Gazing upon the magnificent, intricate geometric engravings decorating the massive ramparts, and the two colossal spires piercing the clouds that remained visible from miles away, Remilia smiled. She turned to Patchouli, who was seated beside her. "Do you get the distinct impression that this place bears a striking resemblance to the ancient elven bastions described in classic fantasy literature?"
Patchouli kept her eyes locked onto the elegant patterns running along the masonry, nodding slowly after a long moment of scrutiny. "Those engravings are far from mere architectural decoration; they are the physical manifestations of a massive runic array. However, I can only observe a narrow segment from this angle, and without sufficient time, I cannot fully parse the underlying intent of the circuit. If the entire defensive barrier surrounding Zwillingstürme is laced with these matching runes, they are likely designed to serve as a grand protective ward for the settlement. Flandre's assertion that this city is the Capital of Magic was entirely accurate. I can sense a remarkably dense academic focus lingering in the air."
A rare, genuine smile surfaced on Patchouli's face.
Compared to the grime of Victoria, both the pristine outskirts and the inner districts of Zwillingstürme appeared remarkably well-maintained. Protected by the seamless coverage of the Confusion Charm, the carriage passed through the grand gates without a single hitch from the guards.
The internal layout of the capital was every bit as breathtaking as the outer view. The passengers marveled at the sights as the vehicle rolled through the avenues, eventually pulling to a halt in front of a highly refined inn.
Sakuya stepped inside to negotiate with the management. After a brief discussion with the desk staff, she returned to the carriage runner to deliver her report, noting that the upscale lodgings in Zwillingstürme offered private detached courtyards, though the pricing was roughly twenty-five percent steeper than the rates they had encountered in Victoria.
"This is actually a very standard economic reality for the capital; Zwillingstürme operates on a completely different level than Victoria," Clever explained, her extensive familiarity with both nations allowing her to quickly break down the situation for the group. "The political fallout from the recent chaos in Londinium has yet to subside, and due to the heavy presence of the Sarkaz forces there, many wealthy nobles are actively choosing to avoid the region entirely. Zwillingstürme faces no such crisis. Every year during the Grand Empress's Celebration, countless aristocrats flock to these streets. Aside from the high Electors themselves, almost every minor noble maintains a seasonal residence here. This is the absolute political core of Leithanien. The elites who travel here and demand private villas are never short on funds, so it is only logical that the local commerce reflects that premium."
Remilia nodded in understanding. As long as the increased rates weren't a malicious attempt to gouge obvious foreigners, she had no objections. Since their coffers were currently well-stocked with the manager's gold, they might as well enjoy the finest accommodations available.