The Shepherds Are Dense Chapter 86: Aiwass of a Thousand Faces

Aiwas quickly adapted to life at the Royal Law University.

It was now Thursday afternoon.

Two days had passed since Aiwas made The Glass Staircase again.

Unlike his Pelican Bar headline, which few students noticed, this ti was different.

The Glass Staircase was too serious for students—brief reports on deaths, personnel changes, industry updates, legal or tax adjustnts, key policy explanations, or foreign affairs. No gossip, serialized novels, poems, jokes, or engaging ads. News was often incomplete, with many stories reduced to a single line.

The most common word was “nas,” most unrecognizable to students, making the paper a headache. The only draw was Master Yannis’s “magic paintings.”

Students didn’t buy it. It wasn’t about intellect—buying it was either parental pressure or posturing.

Back then, Aiwas was just a “stranger on the front page,” an envied “other people’s kid.” The Pelican Bar and demon scholars felt distant to Red Queen District students.

But Monday’s White Slipper Club murder and the assassin targeting Princess Isabel hit close to ho.

Many students witnessed it: Ralph’s fall from the second floor, dying of poison at their feet; inspectors and supervisors flooding in; Air Cavalry in silver armor and dragon helts soaring on white griffins.

[If Avalon went to war, it’d look like this!] students thought excitedly.

Unlike the conservative Round Table and Hall of Silver and Tin, students craved excitent, bored by their monotonous lives.

This was thrilling enough.

A beautiful assassin erged from the princess’s shadow, chased by an armored knight with a greatsword. Their clash tore through streets, sealed by legal spells, as Air Cavalry struck with lightning and razor-sharp winds, thunder echoing across Glass Island.

Gordon chased her from Red Queen to White Queen to Lloyd District. His stamina limited, he lost her after two streets, but griffin knights trailed from above.

In the sky, tracking was harder—clues reduced to fleeting shadows on unobstructed ground, harder to spot from higher altitudes.

Glass Island’s narrow streets hindered pursuit.

Red and White Queen residents included knight families, priests, elves, rchants, scholars, officials, and foreign dignitaries.

The cunning assassin wove through churches, museums, galleries, governnt buildings, courts, orphanages, schools, hospitals, and institutes, dodging through crowds, baiting knights to attack.

But these seasoned knights, over forty and past recklessness, stayed calm.

Attacking risked civilian deaths—mass casualties—while the assassin might escape.

Better to let her go.

She’d only killed a low-ranking official and, despite entering Isabel’s shadow, hadn’t targeted royalty.

Knowing their restraint, she led them on a chase, using expert decoys, stealth, and vision tricks to vanish before dark. The only certainty: she reached Lloyd District.

Unlike Red and White Queen, Lloyd District was less critical.

It was sealed, ports halted, even resting navy crews alerted. Six inspector units and supervisors swept street by street until dawn, finding nothing.

The Inspectorate pretended it was a citywide security sweep, busting thirteen illegal groups and arresting over 400 people—a grand show.

[Can’t go back empty-handed.]

To outsiders, it was decisive action. To those in the know, the Inspectorate was a joke, failing to catch one person despite a massive effort.

Yet Gordon, the first to pursue, wasn’t punished—he was comnded.

His initial action was correct: pushing the assassin away from Isabel, not attacking.

Though it aided her escape, he protected the princess.

Letting the assassin go ant losing a secretary; trapping her in the club could’ve killed countless students. The lesser evil was acceptable.

Isabel told Aiwas that Gordon would be promoted to Senior Supervisor in the Supervision Office, overseeing all Glass Island Inspectorate branches—a step-and-a-half up, still managing his old unit.

Compared to the Inspectorate’s citywide chaos, Aiwas, unmoving in his wheelchair, shone. His shot clearly dealt significant damage—perhaps all of it.

Students who saw the “big event” hyped it up, embellishing for those who missed it.

With so many witnesses, few grasped the full picture. Over 80% missed the tiny knife in Ralph’s back; only those near Aiwas heard him call Gordon.

Though The Glass Staircase praised Aiwas, his interview was cryptic: “I won’t say, figure it out.”

This fueled students’ imaginations, each crafting their own version.

By Tuesday’s lunch, cafeteria tables buzzed with seventy-plus variations, as if from different tilines.

So were ta—“Aiwas was the assassin’s ex” or “she was his stepmother.” Others were wild—“Aiwas is the princess’s secret guard” or “a seer.”

Outlandish tales erged: “The assassin targeted Queen Sophia,” “she’s a vengeful forr princess,” or “a demon in human form.”

So students planned to write Aiwas as a fictional protagonist.

He was now a true celebrity, earning classmates’ goodwill and recognition, though not as he’d planned.

He beca an urban legend with a thousand faces.

Any spy digging into him would be baffled by the conflicting stories.

[How is Aiwas this mysterious?]

Aiwas gained fa, Gordon a promotion, witnesses stories, and others entertainnt.

Other departnts faced verbal criticism but no real punishnt—the knights’ judgnt was sound, the assassin wasn’t truly after Isabel, and Queen Sophia wasn’t fixated on catching her.

The biggest damage—so Lloyd District walls—was covered by the “busting thirteen groups” budget, with surplus.

Only Aiden and Isabel were upset.

Isabel mourned the White Slipper Club’s temporary closure.

Per Aaron, it’d reopen, but her first student group, where she hadn’t even made friends, was shut down.

Aiden’s luck was worse.

As a student who’d interacted with the assassin, he was questioned twice, his Dracula confiscated.

Though he barely paid attention in class, missing two sessions made him miss school.

With finals nearing, he panicked: [How do I catch up?]

“Why couldn’t you co two weeks later?!” he grumbled.

Then he could’ve blad a bad grade on them.

With a month until finals, the timing was awkward.

Worse, his budding crush ended before it began.

The “mysterious white-dress lady who might like ” was a ruthless villain, crushing him.

Aiwas, hearing his complaints, smiled silently.

[It’s fine, brother. You’ll get used to it.]

(Chapter End)