Chapter 14
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Chapter 14: Title
"Let’s use Tarot cards," Merlinka summoned her assistant to bring a suitcase containing her familiar deck.
"What would you like to inquire?"
Shuffling the cards rhythmically, Merlinka eventually spread them across the black cloth-covered table before raising her gaze to Augustus.
After a contemplative pause, Augustus ventured, "I wish to know if my future will remain stagnant."
"Draw one card and turn it horizontally," Merlinka guided.
Complying, Augustus drew a card, flipped it sideways, and presented it. "What’s its meaning?"
Merlinka studied the revealed image intently. "The Wheel of Fortune. Your destiny shifts even as we speak. The gears of fate turn – you must grasp emerging opportunities."
Augustus wore an expression of vague comprehension, the ambiguous revelation offering more mystery than clarity.
Following this divination interlude, the castle investigation commenced in earnest.
Outside the ancient gates, four floating cameras trailed their respective guests who clutched fragmented maps. Upon entry, each participant chose divergent paths.
The live stream simultaneously divided into quadrants, allowing viewers to toggle perspectives or observe all screens simultaneously.
"Seems we part ways here. I’ll take the lead then," Augustus declared cheerfully, adjusting his production crew-issued backpack.
Merlinka inclined her head silently, suitcase in hand, disappearing down a shadowed corridor.
Detective Lucie Hehrik offered her companion a courteous nod. "Professor Donald Brighton, I shall proceed independently."
The group dispersed in four separate directions.
Broadcast globally, this supernatural castle program naturally featured on Zhongxia’s streaming platforms, including Douku Video.
*
"C’mon, show me the stream! Dead men deserve entertainment too," insisted the plaid-shirted specter, his semi-transparent arm phasing through Cui Ming’s shoulder while rummaging for the phone.
"Zhan Yuan! Back off!" Cui Ming shuddered as ghostly energy prickled his skin, veins throbbing at his temples.
"Just a quick look," the spirit wheedled, drifting backward like smoke. "Remember who helped exorcise that poltergeist last week?"
Cui Ming grimaced. With few government-sanctioned spirits possessing actual competence, and temporary contracts preventing proper discipline, he reluctantly produced his phone.
"Douku Video’s airing that international supernatural show – the one announced before I kicked the bucket…" Zhan Yuan’s voice trailed off mournfully.
Maintaining stony silence, Cui Ming navigated to the live broadcast.
"She won’t materialize for another hour. Just set the phone nearby so I can watch," the spirit pressed urgently.
Nearby, handcuffed Zhao Daya trembled violently, silently swearing to reform if he survived this haunting reality. Ghosts existed. Multiple ghosts. This changed everything.
"What’s this program?" Jiang Fei peered at the glowing screen.
"Foreign ghost-hunting show," Zhan Yuan absentmindedly explained. "Rumor says tonight’s episode features big names from the Another World community."
"If ghosts are real, maybe the previous episodes of this show were authentic too."
Jiang Fei leaned in with interest. "Let me see."
"Is this witch telling the truth or just acting?"
"Not sure, but she’s supposedly renowned," Zhan Yuan shrugged.
"You’re the ghost here—does this castle feel off to you?" Jiang Fei gestured at the screen. "Seems perfectly normal to me."
Outside Beers Castle, the sun dipped westward though twilight hadn’t yet settled.
Zhan Yuan had selected the witch’s viewpoint earlier. Unlike the detective, scholar, or affluent heir, he was more intrigued by what arcane encounters awaited a spellcaster within ancient walls.
Merlinka departed second, parchment map in hand.
Per the production crew’s instructions, her priority was locating her assigned quarters. She traversed a daylight gallery frequented by tourists, afternoon rays slanting through lofty right-side windows.
Centuries-old yet meticulously preserved, Beers Castle’s floors bore no dust. Glass cases shielded surrounding artifacts like sleeping memories.
The levitating camera drifted behind Merlinka, framing only her retreating figure—a medieval noblewoman reincarnated, gliding through stone corridors.
Gilded sunlight caressed her silhouette, crafting an ethereal halo that deepened her mystique.
With each step, modernity’s fingerprints dissolved. The scene unfolded like an antique tapestry—age-yellowed yet vibrantly preserved beneath time’s lacquer.
Merlinka halted before an oaken door.
This threshold marked departure from tourist routes, entering the restricted area where photography is prohibited. For the first time in a century, Beers Castle’s hidden chambers breathed before public eyes.
"This must be it." Her palm met the brass knob. The camera zoomed—metal gleamed, fingers tensed.
The door sighed open.
Crimson drapes and ivory sheers framed half-open French windows. A zephyr stirred, making wall tapestries shiver. Above, the crystal chandelier scattered prismatic whispers across vaulted ceilings.
Merlinka’s brow creased upon entering. Something felt… discordant.
Her gaze swept the chamber. Canopied bed, armoire, coffered ceiling—all carved with rose reliefs and briar patterns. The room was a perfectly preserved 15th-century diorama.
By the window seat, an obsidian bouquet erupted from a porcelain vase. As Merlinka studied the anomaly, cameras faithfully transmitted every detail to live feeds.
In a Zhongxia apartment:
"Centuries-old castle my foot! This looks factory-fresh. Did the producers get lobotomized?" Jiang Fei snorted.
"Still aesthetically pleasing though."
"Too glaring an oversight for professionals," Zhan Yuan mused, stroking his jaw.
The screen drowned in comments—mostly praising the set design, others mocking the production crew’s negligence.
Unseen by viewers, the actual production team outside Beers Castle gaped in bewilderment.
"Since when did I order hyper-realistic props? Do they know our budget?!" The producer clawed at thinning hair, eyes darting between four live feeds.
Multi-screen viewers noticed the anomaly wasn’t isolated—the entire castle interior gleamed suspiciously untouched by time’s erosion.
"We artificially aged everything! This isn’t our work!" The props head protested, face flushing.
"Then explain that!" The producer jabbed a trembling finger at the screens.
"Could… could be lighting effects?" The props head stammered unconvincingly.
Veterans of staged paranormal shows, they’d never sabotage their own carefully crafted illusions.
The producer’s tantrum changed nothing. Globally streamed and irrevocable, the "mistake" trapped them like actors on their own stage. Halting transmission now would unleash worldwide ridicule—career suicide for all involved.
Meanwhile, the broadcast continued.
Merlinka paced the anachronistic chamber before perching on the bed’s edge. An inexplicable compulsion made her tug the nightstand drawer.
Her breath caught—then released upon spotting the envelope. Of course. The promised clue.
Beneath parchment, a golden metal coin glinted. Its flawless surface bore alien geometries that ensnared her gaze. When awareness returned, the artifact already warmed her palm.
The disc resembled ceremonial art—30mm diameter, 2.5mm thick rim. One face displayed intersecting lines connecting nodal points, minimalist yet profoundly symbolic. The reverse held a woman’s backlit silhouette, hair rendered so intricately she almost felt its texture. A phantom warmth pulsed through the metal—or was it her imagination?
Mesmerized, Merlinka flipped the coin thrice before pocketing it instinctively, oblivious to its future role.
"Ancient coin… but why here?" She broke the wax seal embossed with leonine heraldry.
[To Merlinka Endor, Grand Archwitch of Endor:
Six Hundred Years past, the Duke of Beers sired three daughters and two sons. Your current chamber once housed his firstborn…]
Identical scenes unfolded in three other rooms, each lettertailored to its recipient.
As the four guests pursued their clues, something primordial stirred in castle shadows. Ancient hungers awakened by vibrant mortal essences began coiling, eager to reenact a bloodstained history.
