Chapter 427
Chapter 427
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 427
>Chapter Title: Answer Me
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……The Gilded Horsemen had slipped in among the Hermits.
That claim had gained trust in the name of Ahola, Ruler of the Desert.
Of course, it wasn't without doubts.
“Some mysterious desert sorcery…? Does such a thing even exist? Look here, Arbiter. I think we need an explanation.”
“Heh heh, this old man shares the same thoughts as Patriarch Kutlan. I've gathered no small amount of knowledge from my time in the imperial court, but this is the first I've heard of such sorcery.”
Kahazar and Parapus were the first to voice their skepticism, but Keyston and Demeia shared the same bewilderment.
'Sorcery' was something distinct from magic, but it had appeared all too conveniently.
However, the Arbiter of Jamal offered no reply.
Instead…
“You have yet to earn the trust of this Ahola.”
With that single statement, he dismissed the archmages' doubts.
The archmages openly showed their displeasure at his words, but the Arbiter of Jamal paid it no mind.
In truth, whether the other observers believed or not was of little importance.
What mattered was…
‘…The Hermits' response.’
Just before everyone gathered in the reception room earlier… this was the explanation the Arbiter of Jamal had received from the Tower Lord.
In other words.
- What Salvatium is after is probably something unique to the Sanctuary.
- And why do you think that?
- Think about it.
If Salvatium's goal had been one of the archmages, why would they target this particular moment?
- It's absurd. Even one archmage would be a handful, but seven… no, if we count Baron Maroon as a lackey, that's six archmages gathered. Why this timing?
If the target had been one archmage, they never would have chosen this moment.
But since they did…
- It means their goal is something the Sanctuary possesses.
- Is that so?
- Yes. That's why the archmages' reactions don't matter. The Hermits would know best what Salvatium is after.
Why would the Hermits know best?
The reason was simple.
‘The homeowners, right?’
Even if guests don't know, the homeowners know what's most precious in their own house. That much made sense.
No, he wasn't sure if it truly did. But there was no particular point worth disputing.
Still, the Arbiter of Jamal wasn't without his own doubts.
So, what was that doubt?
Nothing other than…
- How can you be certain that Salvatium has infiltrated?
All of this only held meaning if Salvatium had indeed infiltrated. But their infiltration wasn't confirmed.
Yet they had proclaimed it, staking the 'name of Ahola'?
That implied solid evidence.
…At least, that's what the Arbiter of Jamal believed.
But.
- Pardon? Why are you asking me…?
- …?
- You uncovered it with the mysterious desert sorcery, didn't you? Surely you had good reason, Arbiter of Jamal?
- ….
Having thought that far, the Arbiter of Jamal let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes.
If this were the desert, it would be a grave offense warranting three days and nights buried in the sand.
No, three days and nights were nothing.
‘I'd throw them into a scorpion pit and call it mercy….’
Daring to use Ahola's name like that?
But the Arbiter of Jamal swallowed his anger.
It wasn't solely because of his connection to Shuberts.
‘…The outcome.’
Punishing the crime could wait until the results were in.
If the outcome proved unfavorable… and even the slightest blemish fell upon 'Ahola's name' and 'honor'…
‘My promise to Shuberts will be kept.’
The Tower Lord would safely return to his domain.
But after that, nothing was guaranteed.
The Arbiter of Jamal could only hope.
That he wouldn't have to personally toss his benefactor's acquaintance into a boiling sand pit.
* * *
In the end, the Arbiter of Jamal's wish came true.
In other words, the claim made in Ahola's name had been proven.
“The two Hermits who escorted Baron Maroon are dead.”
It was around lunchtime.
One of the Hermits, who had been busily searching for the Gilded Horsemen, came to the reception room with this status report.
In other words…
“If Baron Maroon was a Gilded Horseman, the Hermits who guided him were also suspicious. We were about to investigate when they suddenly vomited blood and died.”
“Same symptoms as Baron Maroon.”
“Yes. No traces of dark magic were found this time either, but judging by the circumstances alone, it's too coincidental to be chance.”
These two Hermits had been perfectly fine and recovering until yesterday, only to drop dead the moment they were about to be investigated for being Gilded Horsemen.
So then…
“Does that confirm the Gilded Horsemen's infiltration?”
“That's how we're viewing it for now.”
“Then, I can consider my suspicions cleared.”
“Yes, Lord Keyston. My apologies for the rudeness.”
The Hermits released Keyston's restraints without argument.
With two other Hermits dying from the exact same symptoms, the suspicion that Keyston had used force inside the Sanctuary was lifted.
Of course, one could argue that Keyston had mastered some special technique to eliminate not only Baron Maroon but the two Hermits as well, but scrutinizing that far would leave no one to trust.
Naturally, it wasn't just Keyston who was cleared.
“Release me as well.”
“Yes, Patriarch Kahazar. My apologies for the rudeness.”
Not only Baron Maroon, but the two Hermits had died from the same symptoms. And again, no traces of dark magic were found.
This meant Kahazar hadn't deliberately hidden anything during the treatment process.
On the other hand, now that things had unfolded this way, one question lingered for everyone.
Why exactly…
- …did the imperial compass fail to react?
Kahazar was the one who voiced the doubt.
“Keyston, did the compass react anywhere in the Sanctuary?”
Keyston had used the imperial compass in two major instances.
Once.
‘…Outside the Sanctuary.’
Once.
‘…Inside the Sanctuary.’
Outside the Sanctuary, it had clearly reacted. But what about inside?
“It didn't react. We could excuse Baron Maroon vomiting blood and collapsing, but it should have reacted to the two Hermits… The compass reaction vanished the moment Baron Maroon died.”
By the time those words trailed off.
The archmages' gazes naturally turned to one person.
Who was that person?
…The Tower Lord.
Aster.
Aster pondered silently under their stares. Everyone was awaiting the deduction from the great 'Detective Aster'…
‘I don't know… How the hell should I know?’
Morning on four legs, noon on two, evening on three… that's a human. But what trick made it detectable outside the Sanctuary but not inside?
And honestly, how the Gilded Horsemen fooled the compass wasn't that important.
Because.
‘Their goal is clear.’
“What's important to us now isn't the compass. The real question is, what is Salvatium after?”
At Aster's remark, Kahazar fell into thought. After a moment, he nodded slowly.
“You don't know, then.”
“…”
“Either way, you're right. The key is what Salvatium is targeting. But…”
Kahazar pierced an unexpected point.
“Do we really need to get any more involved?”
“…?”
“From here on, it seems like the Sanctuary's problem.”
He was right.
Even if Salvatium was indeed responsible, the observers gathered here had no reason to help the Sanctuary.
Of course…
“I can't overlook Salvatium even if it's by imperial order.”
“Heh heh, this old man feels the same.”
“…”
Keyston of the Empire's foe, Imperial Mage Parapus, and Demeia, patriarch of Dinai, had no choice but to get involved.
…The extermination of Salvatium.
That was the imperial decree.
Kahazar, who surely knew this, had thrown out the question for another reason.
“Tower Lord, what's your reason? Frankly speaking now… you're the most suspicious one here.”
“…”
“A grand archmage dropped from the sky. No one knows what the Magic Tower does, when it was founded, or even where it is. No secret organization could evade the eyes of everyone gathered here.”
Kahazar stared straight at Aster, spitting out each word deliberately.
“Why do you oppose Salvatium? What are you after? Or are you truly opposing them at all?”
…In truth, it was a doubt everyone harbored, not just Kahazar.
Keyston of the Sharon Earldom.
Parapus of the Imperial Court.
Demeia of Dinai.
Kahazar of Kutlan.
The Arbiter of Jamal.
Unlike the other archmages whose origins were clear, everything about the Tower Lord was shrouded in mystery.
And so…
“That makes sense.”
“Heh heh, Tower Lord. It seems you need to explain yourself. Oh, not that this old man suspects you or anything…”
“…”
Keyston and Parapus voiced agreement, while Demeia watched the situation in silence as always.
And then.
“So, there you have it. How do you plan to explain yourself?”
Kahazar posed the question as if daring him to try.
Amid that.
“…”
Aster remained silent.
His eyes half-closed. And he thought.
‘Who am I?’
The master of the Tower.
Junior to Duke Muspellun, classmate to the Third Imperial Princess, priest to the Grand Duchess of Ramburg… also junior to the Jenion Academy headmaster, junior to the Spirit Master of the Scorching Winds, friend to the young patriarch of Blandoga, and on decent terms with Young Lady Lortel…
And more.
‘…The hidden convener of the 72.’
He had plenty of titles to prove himself. Plenty, but… what use were they all?
Futile.
Despite his heart burning for justice.
‘Harsh persecution and scorn.’
What lay ahead was a thorny path.
Pitiful.
But…
Aster opened his eyes after thinking that far. He gazed calmly at the disbelievers. And spoke.
“Salvatium, those bastards…”
“…?”
“…won't prove it even if I say that. Right?”
Things were going too smoothly.
‘Lucky, too.’
But it was fine.
He was used to this.
“I have a question of my own. In a situation where Salvatium is rampaging, why stir up discord now?”
“What…”
“Ah, come on. Right? I don't expect us to all team up or anything… but sowing confusion like this is a bit much. You said it yourself. No need to get involved. So why…”
Aster turned to Kahazar and posed his question.
“Why subtly play detective and muddy the waters? Huh? If there's really no need to get involved, you could just sit quietly.”
“That's…”
Kahazar's mouth opened and closed, at a loss for words. Aster smiled brightly at him.
“Trying to help? Then you're barking up the wrong tree. This is a waste of effort. Oh, or maybe…”
Aster asked.
“Are you a Gilded Horseman?”
There's a common misconception.
That striking first in a war of suspicions wins.
But first strikes are for those who've thrown plenty of punches.
Otherwise…
‘…You just get hit instead.’
Aster tapped the sofa armrest. He took in Kahazar with his eyes.
“Why no answer? I'm asking if you're a Gilded Horseman.”
Answer me, you punk.
You're really starting to look suspicious now.