Chapter 898: Going Deep
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 898: Going Deep
“Thriving?”
Muen’s lip twitched.
If one only looked at the bustling, lively scene before them, it would be easy to be deceived by the words in the newspaper and believe that the “great” King was leading the entire kingdom toward a glorious future.
But what was the reality? Internally, the kingdom was being hollowed out by the Salvation Society; externally, the Imperial army watched like a circling predator. The entire nation was already teetering on the brink of a precipice. One wrong step and it would plunge into eternal damnation.
The contrast was so jarring that Muen began to wonder if he had fallen under some sort of illusion.
Looking at it from another perspective, if the scene before him didn't match the newspaper’s description so perfectly, the word “thriving” would have felt like a masterclass in irony.
“So, is this a smoke screen specifically released to keep the people in the city calm?”
Muen pondered this as he carefully read the paper.
Following the oversized, bolded headline was a detailed narrative centered on the “Great King.” It was structured into three major points, five core principles, and seven great deeds, arguing from every conceivable angle why Saint Peronne V was a magnificent ruler.
After finishing it, Muen felt a bit swayed himself. He wondered, Could it be? Is it possible that Saint Peronne V really is that great?
No, no, no. Anyone who could lead their kingdom to such a state could hardly be called great.
Perhaps he had achieved something in his youth that elevated the kingdom and allowed it to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the Empire in certain respects... but that was no excuse for gambling away the kingdom’s entire future on a single hand.
There was a fundamental difference between a “great” king and an “excellent” one.
Setting aside his achievements, any man who could make his own son hate him with such intensity—as Saint Peronne V had—could never be called great.
“It seems... the stuff in the newspaper isn't even a smoke screen to stabilize the populace. It looks more like pure, unadulterated boasting.”
The reasoning was simple: this smoke screen was far too easy to see through.
Muen narrowed his eyes. Through the thin veil of rain and past the noisy crowds in the distant alleys, he could easily see back the way he came. The city gates were still wide open.
The gates were open; anyone could go out and investigate at any time. If the masses on the streets just walked a few more steps, they would see the Empire’s army of hundreds of thousands already at their doorstep.
Yet, despite how simple it was, it seemed as if no one noticed at all. Everyone was immersed in this peaceful, beautiful facade, unwilling to even step outside the city.
The world inside the walls and the world outside seemed to have split into two entirely different realities.
“Is it that they truly haven't noticed, or... is all of this fake?”
The eerie sense of unreality and the conflict between logic and what he saw forced Muen to reconsider.
He tucked the newspaper away and scrutinized his surroundings again. He even activated his Black Flame Vision, peering into the flow of mana and searching for any traces of the Evil Gods.
But...
It wasn't fake.
Everything was real.
The flow of people, the streets, the scenery, the city—all of it was real.
There was indeed mana flowing beneath the city, but as the royal capital, that was to be expected. For instance, the Great Barrier meant to protect the city would require a constant supply of mana even if it were temporarily deactivated.
In fact, the flow of mana, with its clear patterns and rules, served as further evidence that this was a real world.
Beyond that, Muen could find no other anomalies. His Black Flame Vision couldn't see very far, but within the blocks he could perceive, everything was natural and authentic.
“Unless this illusion is so terrifying that it covers an entire city and perfectly deceives everyone, including the Church, I should be able to find at least some clue.”
“As for the Evil Gods...”
Muen paused in thought, then shook his head. “I don't think a bunch of fanatical idealists—madmen who constantly preach about ‘salvation’—would ever collaborate with the very things they loathe most just to achieve their goals.”
Pink Bear had mentioned before that while the Salvation Society’s actions were essentially no different from those of crazed evil believers, they always prided themselves on being “just and correct.”
On the Salvation Society’s list of most-hated enemies, evil believers were ranked right alongside the Church.
“So... the boldest and most logical possibility can be ruled out for now. But since everything ‘looks’ fine, I’ll just have to go a bit deeper to explore.”
Muen gazed at the city. It was shrouded in a hazy mist of rain, yet it still possessed a grandeur that struck the soul.
In terms of population, this city might be slightly smaller than Belland, the largest city on the continent, but to a lone man like Muen, it was still like a majestic mountain whose full scale was impossible to grasp at a glance.
No, merely grasping its scale was useless. Currently, the city was clearly hidden behind a bizarre fog. The city itself was real, but what it chose to show you might not be.
Just like that newspaper, which differed so wildly from the truth.
“It seems I must truly go deep into the places where the truth is most visible...”
This would be difficult.
For Muen, this was a foreign city. He had no roots here and no reinforcements.
However...
“How fitting.”
A confident smirk played on Muen’s lips, and a sharp, determined light flashed in his eyes.
“Going deep into an unexplored, mysterious place... that happens to be what I’m best at.”
*
“I wonder how long this damn rain is going to last.”
The tailor shop owner rested his chin on his hand, staring out the window at the rain with a melancholy sigh.
It had been raining incessantly for days. Though the drizzle was light, it felt as if everything was about to grow moldy. He could already smell a faint odor coming from some of the fabrics in his warehouse, but in this weather, he couldn't even hang them out to dry.
Most importantly, no one wanted to come out and pick a new outfit in this miserable weather, where every step risked a splash of mud.
“Looks like I’ll have to close early again today. Sigh, the papers say the King’s army has won so many battles, but I wonder if us common folk will see any of the spoils. I wonder if those Imperial barbarians will ever come buy my clothes...”
Creeeak—
As the last echoes of his lament faded, the shop door suddenly swung open. The interior brightened for a split second before returning to its dim state.
The tailor looked up and saw a tall, lean figure ducking slightly to clear the threshold. Then, with a light tap of a finger—much like the noble lords he had seen in the past—the stranger elegantly rang the bell above the door.
“He... Hello.”
The tailor blinked, finally realizing a customer had arrived. He quickly forced a smile and hurried forward to greet him.
“Sir, what can I do for you? Are you looking for fabric? Or perhaps a ready-made outfit? I don’t mean to boast, but I’m the best tailor in this district. I guarantee you’ll be satisfied with whatever I make.”
“The best?”
The tall figure spoke, his voice slightly raspy.
The tailor bowed his head, catching a glimpse of the man’s face out of the corner of his eye. Though the man was backlit, his deep-set features clearly marked him as a Slav from the North.
“Of course. Not just in skill, but in fabric as well...”
Thinking of the fabrics in the warehouse that were starting to turn, the tailor’s smile didn't waver. “...I use only the finest.”
“Very well.” The tall figure nodded. “I need a suit made.”
“And what style were you thinking of, sir?”
“I want...” He paused for a moment. “A formal suit. An expensive one.”