Chapter 472: The Gift
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 472: The Gift
A shadow, like a stroke of ink, sliced through the sky. It nimbly wove through the deep night, bypassing the towering chimneys of Belland to look down upon the silent streets below. After circling several times, the shadow finally dove through a hidden passage and entered a vast, sprawling space.
The fluttering of wings broke the silence as Robin landed on a circular table.
Residual warmth still clung to the tabletop, which was cluttered with scattered documents—evidence that an intense meeting had only just concluded. Robin had arrived just a moment too late.
But that wasn't a problem. He knew full well that these so-called meetings were merely held to make those foolish, greedy bastards feel like they were contributing their limited strength. Most of the agenda items were nothing more than formalities.
After all, the more important the matter, the fewer people should know of it. Those bloated pigs, possessed of nothing but fat, could contribute nothing to their glory.
Thus, only a select few knew the full scope of the core machinations they were plotting.
"Is the task complete, Mr. Robin?"
The speaker was a white tiger standing upright at the center of the table. Dark stripes traced menacing patterns across its fur, yet the way it held its wine glass was exceedingly elegant, reminiscent of a gentleman in a tuxedo gliding through a gala.
"Naturally, Lord Speaker."
Robin politely tucked his wings. "Everything was carried out according to your instructions."
"Heh. From the look of you, things went even more smoothly than I anticipated."
"Your Lordship has piercing insight. Indeed, that Wandering Poet is nothing more than a stray dog. Throw him a few bones, and he’ll happily bite whoever we tell him to. However..."
At this, Robin hesitated.
"If there is a problem, ask. As the saying goes in East Wick, we are in the same boat now. Harboring doubts will only hinder our progress."
The white tiger swirled his red wine, casting a casual glance at Robin.
"My apologies, Lord Speaker."
Robin bowed once more.
"It is truly nothing major. I simply felt that Your Lordship’s move this time was... perhaps a bit too gentle."
"Oh? Gentle? In what way?"
"The Wandering Poet isn't strong enough," Robin stated. "At least from the intelligence I’ve gathered, while his abilities are bizarre, they are nowhere near the level of the force we used during the previous attempt to hunt Muen Campbell. Furthermore, the Acting Sword Bearer of the Silence Bureau currently by Muen’s side is a mysterious figure we don't fully understand yet. With his strength up and ours down, I don't see how this attack could achieve anything. If anything, it will only serve to heighten Muen Campbell’s vigilance."
"...Yes, he is far inferior."
The white tiger answered truthfully.
"Muen Campbell managed to escape under nearly impossible circumstances last time; it’s naturally even less likely we could take his life now. We vastly underestimated him, once treating him as a worthless piece of trash. But now, that lion cub has begun to show his fangs. We can kill countless nobodies, but it is very difficult to kill a true lion."
"Then..."
"But!"
The white tiger suddenly turned to Robin. That ferocious tiger face actually twisted into an uncannily human, meaningful expression.
"Do you really think I did this just to try and kill him again?"
"Eh?"
Robin froze, then quickly realized. "In other words, your true objective is..."
"Exactly. A lion is hard to kill, so we simply have to change the way we play the game."
The white tiger sneered, crushing the glass in his hand. He looked out at the distant night sky.
"It doesn't matter if Muen Campbell dies this time. What matters is that the Wandering Poet will kill—he will kill many, many people, drawing more than enough attention. That is sufficient. In this game of chess, whoever has more pieces holds the advantage. My task is to destroy the opponent's pieces.
...As for Muen Campbell, I have another gift prepared for him."
*
"Marvin Stellimo."
Muen stared at the intelligence report he had just received.
In this file sent through the Imperial Central Intelligence system, there was a complete record of 131 individuals with the same given name and 13 with the exact same full name.
After filtering the results, the one who matched the evil cultist Marvin was the son of a small merchant guild.
That guild, known as Stellimo, had gone bankrupt three years ago due to poor management. The son, unable to handle the fall from grace, suffered a mental breakdown. He spent his days immersed in poetry, wandering from place to place.
It seemed like a perfect match.
But he wasn't the Marvin that Muen had just killed.
According to the Silence Bureau’s internal records, the true identity of the "Marvin" who had slaughtered over five hundred people in the town was Frey Doel, known as the Insect Controller—a veteran criminal who had been on the Bureau’s most-wanted list for a decade.
Which meant...
"Someone sold those innocent townspeople to an evil cultist."
As for who had done it...
Muen rubbed the damaged bracelet in his hand, his eyes shimmering with a light as cold as a sheet of ice.
He had seen this bracelet before. A few months ago, in the restaurant where he and Liya had first formed their bond, he had faced an assassination attempt.
The assassin had been able to get close to him because he wore a magic bracelet of the exact same design, which had concealed his presence.
The same trick had been played again in this town three days ago. The monitors stationed here had been killed without a chance to resist, ensuring the Silence Bureau never received a single warning.
"Can we trace the origin of this thing?"
Muen tossed the bracelet into the darkness outside the carriage window.
"It will take time," a cold, emotionless voice replied from outside.
"Make it quick."
"Yes, Young Master."
Muen withdrew his gaze and rubbed his temples wearily.
The side effects of forcibly using the Black Flame—a power far beyond his current realm—were still present. He felt hollow inside.
Unlike his Senior Sister’s power, which was a fragment of the Moon’s authority, the Black Sun within him appeared formidable but was essentially a high-tier existence without the corresponding energy to back it up.
The strands of Evil God power he had absorbed previously seemed to have been spent entirely on upgrading its status.
Consequently, every time he channeled the Black Flame, that Black Sun would ravenously drain the mana and fighting spirit from his body. He couldn't use it as freely as his Senior Sister.
To put it simply, he had been drained dry. Again.
"Ultimately, it’s because my realm isn't high enough," Muen sighed dejectedly.
He felt as though he carried too many things that didn't belong to someone his age. Whether it was the Alchemy Core on his back or the Black Sun in his body, they were all like thirty-year-old widows—insatiable and desperately demanding everything from a tender youth like him.
It was like a child trying to steer a massive heavy-duty rig. It was certainly thrilling to drive, but if he did it for too long or pushed too hard, his body simply couldn't take it.
Despite his exhaustion, Muen had boarded the carriage sent by the Duke’s Estate that very night. He had parted ways with his Senior Sister in a hurry and set off for Belland.
He was in such a rush because the people from the Duke’s Estate had brought two pieces of news.
First: the current Emperor of the Empire, Audrich III, had been struck by a sudden, grave illness. The cause was unknown, and it was said that even with the palace physicians exhausting every method at their disposal, they were powerless.
As for the second piece of news...
The Empire’s Third Princess, Celicia, had gone to see the ailing Emperor. For reasons unknown, a fierce argument had broken out between them, and she had subsequently been placed under house arrest.
The details were currently unclear, but either piece of news was enough to send shockwaves through the Empire.
These two reports, like the terrifying precursors to a storm, had instantly derailed all of Muen’s plans. They forced him to leave his Senior Sister so abruptly that they didn't even have time for a final moment of tenderness.
But he had to pick up the pace.
If a great ship was about to sink in Belland, the Emperor’s illness was undoubtedly the first rivet to pop.
Everyone was watching with bated breath, waiting to see which ship would go down.
Muen had to return as quickly as possible to ensure that the ship he was standing on wasn't the one that sank.
"So, did you get some advance intel that made you act so crazily?"
Muen tapped his finger against his knee, following this line of thought.
"In other words, the true target of this Marvin incident wasn't necessarily me... it was Senior Sister? No, it was the Silence Bureau?"
Muen had a sudden epiphany.
The Silence Bureau was the Empire’s agency for dealing with Evil Gods. Under the management of that legendary Sword Bearer, it had become perhaps the most powerful force in Belland.
It was like a sword hanging over the city.
Although the Bureau had a strict rule against interfering in politics since its inception, when the storm hit, no one knew where that blade—meant only for Evil Gods—would eventually fall.
Actually...
Once the news of Senior Sister becoming the Acting Sword Bearer spread, even the dogs in Belland would know which way the Silence Bureau would lean.
Therefore...
"I’m afraid it’s not just Marvin, and it’s not just this town."
Muen looked out at the deep, distant night sky, his fury finally piercing through the ice:
"In the coming days, all across the Empire... terrorist incidents triggered by evil cultists will likely break out one after another."
What a bunch of... worthless scum who will stop at nothing to reach their goals.
As if unable to bear the thought of such a cruel scene, Muen closed his eyes tightly.
But before he could rest, a voice woke him again.
"Young Master, someone is here to see you."
"A visitor?"
Muen frowned.
He was currently in a carriage, and it was the middle of the night...
"He claims to be a messenger from the Imperial Palace."
"A palace messenger?"
Muen was even more bewildered, but since it involved the palace, he had to stop and investigate.
Given the guards currently surrounding him, he wasn't particularly afraid of anyone trying any more fancy suicide stunts.
Sensing the powerful auras protecting him, Muen stepped off the carriage with peace of mind and looked at the travel-worn messenger standing nearby.
"Greetings, Young Master Campbell."
The messenger bowed respectfully.
"I am here to deliver a decree from the Imperial Palace."
"A decree?"
Muen’s confusion deepened.
The messenger offered no further explanation. He simply held out an exquisite, gold-trimmed envelope with both hands.
Muen frowned. Under the tense gaze of his retinue, he slowly opened the letter.
...Nothing happened. It really was just a letter.
However, on the golden stationery, the intricate crest of the Emperor was clearly stamped, proving that this was indeed a personal order from His Majesty.
"This is..."
Muen scanned the contents quickly, his pupils shrinking.
"An appointment?"