Chapter 165: Everything According to Plan
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 165: Everything According to Plan
An eerie green light flared from Young Lord Yurei’s body as it began to shudder violently.
Because a preservation spell had been cast upon it, the body didn't resemble a reanimated corpse so much as a man waking from a long, fitful slumber.
"Who are you?"
Erica, the caster of the spell, threw out the question.
—Marcus... Yurei... the only son... of Peri Yurei...
Identifying the subject was usually a simple matter, but Erica dug deeper.
"I will ask again. Who were you before you were Marcus?"
The corpse spoke.
—Kevin... of the Red Fields...
Kevin of the Red Fields.
Such an introduction marked him as the descendant of common farmers—a lineage the real Marcus Yurei would never have claimed. No one could doubt the truth now. The dead do not lie.
"How did you become Marcus Yurei?"
—Kidnapped Marcus Yurei... murdered him... used... a Doppler Ampoule...
"What is a Doppler Ampoule?"
—The path... to becoming... the hands and feet... of the Great Godwin.
The Black Dragon, Godwin.
The most terrible, calamitous dragon in history—a name that could never be forgotten. And those who followed him were Demon Worshippers!
Without giving the room a moment to process the shock, Erica pressed on.
"Did Regent Ferda kill you?"
—No...
"Then what about the fact that you died from black magic?"
—Ferda... frame him... chaos... Uwaaaaah!!
The green light in the eyes flickered out. The window for questioning via Deadman Knock had closed.
It was time for the counterattack.
"Bishop Joseph Faust."
Ferda, who had remained as still as a statue until now, finally spoke. In the midst of the brewing chaos, Joseph’s shoulders jerked.
"W-what is it, Regent Ferda?"
"You said it yourself, didn't you? That the source of the black magic was me."
The calm, calculating light in Ferda’s eyes began to shift.
"Since we have conducted this trial fairly under the Light of Alte, could you explain why you identified me as the source of that magic?"
The topic shifted without the Chairman's consent. But then again, what need was there for consent? The man who had publicly declared that nothing could hide from the Light of Alte—the highest religious representative of the Empire—had nearly framed an innocent man due to a "fatal mistake."
"T-that... when I investigated, it was undoubtedly Regent Ferda Valdrova..."
"There seems to be an error. May I re-examine those traces?"
Ferda prodded him, already knowing the answer.
"That... that would be impossible. The evidence was heavily damaged during the investigation..."
"Then shall we see just how damaged it is?"
It was Erdes who cut him off. As a hater of demons, she loathed black magic just as much. She reached toward the corpse without hesitation to check for herself.
"Oh dear, this looks like it was intentionally sabotaged. How could someone be so reckless? Hmm... well, luckily for you, I know a thing or two about restoration."
With a few sharp gestures from Erdes, the blurred traces began to sharpen, returning to their original state.
"Now let’s see... Hmm... It certainly wasn't made in the Archduchy of Valdrova. It reeks of the North."
She rattled off the information gleaned from the traces as if she were enjoying a game. In contrast, Joseph Faust’s face turned deathly pale.
He was the head of the state religion, but Erdes was the President of the Magic Society, representing all of Serdes.
"Commissioner Faust..." Waldemar called out, his voice heavy with feigned shock.
"This is mere speculation!" Joseph shouted. "It’s possible the traces were covered up when Regent Ferda cast the preservation magic—"
"Are you saying you're incompetent enough to be fooled by a mere 4th Circle trick? And you call yourself a Bishop?"
"T-this is clearly a conspiracy!" Joseph pointed a trembling finger at Ferda. Backed into a corner, his behavior became increasingly erratic. "That demon spawn from the Far East is undoubtedly trying to frame me!"
Frothing at the mouth, he tried to push the narrative that Ferda was a demon. However, the truth remained shrouded in mystery to the observers. It was hard to accept that the renowned and virtuous Bishop of Alte was actually a heinous Demon Worshipper.
Just then, Akad’s aide rushed over and whispered into his ear.
Watching this, Ferda felt a truly devilish temptation. An urge surged within him to stretch out his shadow and eavesdrop. He had a good idea of what it was about, but he wanted to hear it for himself.
"According to an urgent report just received, new evidence has been secured!" Akad’s cold gaze fixed on the Bishop. "Commissioner Joseph Faust."
"Yes, Mr. Chairman..."
"It is reported that unidentified skeletal remains were discovered in your quarters at the Cathedral. How do you explain this?"
Ferda silently checked the time.
An hour and twenty minutes.
Considering the time it took for the message to be delivered, the actual search had taken about an hour.
Not quite as fast as his prime.
It was an unprecedentedly brilliant achievement, but for Ferda, who knew the man's true skill, it wasn't quite satisfying.
"Remains? What on earth are you talking about...?"
"It has been confirmed. A rotting corpse was found alongside Class-1 classified documents in a secret vault in your private bedroom."
Akad, the Chairman, pushed him so hard he abandoned all pretense of neutrality.
"If you cannot provide a proper explanation for this, Bishop, you will not take a single step out of this room today."
Joseph folded his trembling hands neatly. The shaking stopped. A look of ecstatic madness settled on his face.
"Lord of the Void! I offer this body to fulfill the will of Lord Godwin!"
Joseph screamed, spreading his arms wide as he activated a self-destruction spell. Just as light began to erupt from his body, a cubic barrier encased him. The surging light subsided helplessly.
"Oh? You dare try to put on a suicide show in front of me?" Erdes sneered. "You miserable piece of filth."
What she hated most were demons. But if there was anything she loathed nearly as much, it was Demon Worshippers. Erdes clenched her outstretched hand in mid-air. A gruesome sound echoed from within the cube.
Crack!
"Aaaaaagh!"
Joseph Faust shrieked in agony. Erdes didn't stop there.
Crunch!
Snap!
She twisted, folded, and ground him down. She didn't stop until every bone in his body was shattered and he hung limp like a mollusk. She tormented him until he was barely clinging to life, then left him preserved inside the cube like a specimen.
Having turned him into a literal rag, Erdes looked at Erica.
"Since you let me investigate the black magic, I'm taking this thing with me to study. No objections, Eri?"
"...Go ahead."
"Looking at the state of things, there’s no point in continuing the meeting, and it doesn't look like there's any more fun to be had... Can I leave? I'm dying to find out what kind of schemes this bastard was cooking up."
Erdes asked Akad, but she didn't wait for an answer. She opened a portal and vanished back to the Magic Society, taking Bishop Joseph with her.
Akad was irritated by her complete disregard for procedure, but it paled in comparison to the absurdity of the situation. The room was a mess, like a landscape ravaged by a storm.
Among everyone there, Duke Yurei was the most devastated.
"How can this be... My son... That wasn't my son?"
Since when had his son not been his son? A flood of questions burst forth like a broken dam. But those questions could no longer be answered.
"Everyone, please be silent. The session has not yet adjourned."
It was Waldemar, not Akad, who spoke to calm the room.
"Duke Yurei..." He looked down at the Duke. "It seems the one impersonating your son was a demon, or perhaps one of their followers."
"..."
"And so..." Waldemar rested his interlaced fingers on the desk and let out a heavy sigh. "I believe we need to conduct an investigation into your background as well."
"What... what are you saying?"
"What am I saying? I'm saying you need to prove that you are indeed human."
Duke Yurei roared, "Of course I am human! I am Peri Yurei of the House of Yurei, a family that has devoted itself to the Kingdom!"
"And how are we to believe that?" Waldemar’s gaze was icy. "You didn't even realize that the son closest to you was a demon, did you?"
"I... I..."
"Of course, you might not be a monster in disguise. But what if you conspired with the Demon Worshippers?"
"I would never do something so preposterous...!"
"It’s not preposterous at all," Waldemar shook his head. "Didn't you come here after losing everything, prepared to see things through to the bitter end?"
That was exactly the kind of behavior expected of a Demon Worshipper. The Duke had thought he had nothing left to lose. He had come with that singular resolve, only to lose something else entirely.
"I'm sorry, but we cannot let you leave until your identity has been verified."
As he lost even his dignity, the Duke finally began to see. Through his shock, the murky, hideous truth became clear.
"Waldemar Golt, you sly old fox! You... you planned this from the very beginning!!"
His rage condensed at his fingertip as he pointed at Waldemar.
"You spoke of a father’s grief! You claimed to be executing justice! Now that you have your pretext, is this how you intend to get rid of me!?"
To his fury, Waldemar replied, "You couldn't even recognize your own son, yet you struggle so pathetically, you dog of the demons."
"You heaven-defying piece of trash!!"
Duke Yurei finally lost his reason and lunged from the witness stand. Something glinted at his fingertips—a sharp awl hidden inside his sleeve.
"I will at least take you with me today!"
That awl was the weapon he had intended to use to punish his son's killer. The weapon prepared for Ferda was now flying toward Waldemar Golt.
He threw himself forward, but he never reached his target. His body was slammed into the floor by an invisible weight.
Oldin Rooster.
With agility that belied his massive frame, he had neutralized Duke Yurei.
"You've lost your mind, Duke. Forgive me, but I must be blunt."
Snap!
"Aaaagh!"
Oldin ruthlessly twisted the Duke's arm, incapacitating him.
Waldemar looked down at him. "We must first interrogate you to see if you are truly Duke Yurei. Not just for the safety of the Arken Empire, but for the Heinkel Kingdom and the entire continent."
"Golt...!"
Duke Yurei glared at Grand Duke Golt with bloodshot eyes. His desperate scream echoed through the Golden Council.
And so, the chaotic session came to an end.
* * *
Ferda returned to his inn. Arwen, acting on behalf of the Consilus family, greeted him.
"Do you have any schedules for tomorrow?"
"No, the session has adjourned, so I doubt there's anything left to say."
"Then I will have everything prepared so that we can depart at any time tomorrow."
"Thank you."
Ferda went inside his tent and sat on the sofa, reflecting on the day's events. He had successfully protected the Far East and the assets he needed to defend.
The plan was undoubtedly a success.
Ferda had considered how best to keep the Far East safe. If he had tried to fight a public relations battle head-on, he could never have won; the Far East could never match the Empire's population and influence. Therefore, Ferda had planned to prove that there were Demon Worshippers within the Empire itself.
And indeed, there were.
Not in the audience, not even among the general council members, but on the High Commission. Even the Bishop of the Cathedral had lived his life as a puppet of the demons.
With this, I have secured the justification for autonomy.
The facade of integrity, hidden behind a golden glow, had been stripped away. They could no longer pin the responsibility on the Far East. With the Tower Master of the Blue Eye stepping forward to defend him, the Archduchy of Valdrova would be recognized not as a mere borderland, but as the shield protecting the continent of Serdes.
And yet...
He didn't feel like he had truly won. He hadn't expected much from Alexander, who was famous for his blunders. Beating him was as unfulfilling as a twenty-year-old winning a fistfight against a seven-year-old.
Waldemar.
That old man was the anomaly. Amidst the violent waves of emotion, Waldemar had remained consistent from beginning to end—like a great river that nothing could stop.
Why?
Ferda pondered the question over a cup of tea.
"Regent."
Someone called out to him. It was Arwen. He entered the tent and asked cautiously, "You have a visitor. It is the Princess. What shall I do?"
The sun was setting, casting a red glow over the land. It wasn't a typical time for a noblewoman to be out.
"Tell her to come in."
Once permission was granted, a woman dressed in an inconspicuous robe entered. She pulled back her hood, revealing her hidden blonde hair.
"Congratulations. With this, you have firmly established the justification for your autonomy."
"Do you consider it a great victory?" Ferda asked Olivia, still feeling a sense of unease.
"In terms of gaining autonomy, yes, it is a victory." Her answer was noncommittal.
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that in the grand scheme of things, it isn't quite so simple."
As he suspected, his intuition hadn't been wrong. Olivia had clearly felt the same thing. The only difference was that while Ferda only felt it instinctively, Olivia knew the specifics.
"If we were to name the person who benefited most from this affair as the winner... then that winner is Grand Duke Golt."
The true victor was the man who had remained a mere spectator, unswayed by the turbulent currents.