Chapter 918: Deductions
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 918: Deductions
"A lockdown, then..."
Muen nodded. "I see."
"As expected of you, my Lord. You don't seem surprised at all, as if you anticipated this would happen."
"Cut the flattery. If you knew what happened in there, you’d realize that no matter how severe the Church’s actions are, they wouldn't be considered excessive."
After all, a high-ranking Head Nun had perished in that cemetery. Given the Church's usual style, the fact that they hadn't locked down the entire district for an investigation was already showing the Kingdom a fair amount of face during this period.
Of course, that possibility relied on one premise... that the Church currently stationed within Saint Bran Phazesia was normal.
Muen thought back once more to that pristine cathedral he had seen amidst the roaring flames of the disaster-stricken city.
That cathedral was clearly still bathed in the Goddess's radiance, yet it had given Muen a profoundly eerie feeling. Most importantly, when he was attacked by the Repentant Witch at such close range, the Grand Cathedral hadn't reacted at all.
It was as if the Saint Bran Phazesia Grand Cathedral, one of the nine Great Temples of the Church, was nothing more than a hollow shell.
There were no signs in Sister Elinde’s memories that the cathedral here had been completely infiltrated by the Salvation Society... but that could easily be an illusion. After all, no matter how deep a 'spy' penetrates, single-line contact is always the safest method. Not to mention, Elinde’s direct superior was the Salvation Holy Lord himself.
Muen leaned back on the sofa, lost in thought.
As for the cemetery, there are two possibilities. First, if the Church here is normal, they will learn the truth of Adeline’s betrayal from the survivors—Krit of the Saint's Eye and the Crippled Priest. This would trigger the Church’s vigilance and lead to a strict internal audit.
Second, if the Church here really is compromised, then... both Krit and the Crippled Priest are in grave danger.
Two scenarios, two sets of probabilities, but Muen had no way to effectively confirm either right now.
Truth and falsehood were intermingled. The situation was becoming increasingly complex, tangled like a ball of yarn. Muen felt it was becoming harder to grasp the full picture of the state of affairs.
Wait...
Truth and falsehood?
Muen rubbed his temples, a flash of inspiration suddenly striking him.
Perhaps he didn't need to think so linearly?
"Um... I don't really know what happened, but from what you said, it sounds like that Krit guy and the priest are in trouble because of you, my Lord... Aren't we going to save them?"
Tyren, who had been listening in, asked. He was itching for action, ready to prove his worth at a moment's notice.
"No need," Muen replied.
"Why not?"
"Because if my next deduction is correct, saving them would be pointless." Muen shook his head.
"De... deduction?" Tyren grew more confused.
"It doesn't concern you for now."
"...Oh."
Though he didn't understand at all, Tyren was a tactful man. Seeing that Muen intended to exclude him from this particular train of thought, he smartly chose not to press further and obediently went off to a corner to drink by himself.
Having survived in this environment for so long, he knew that for some things, it was always better to remain ignorant.
Let's straighten this out. Setting aside overly complex thoughts, the life-and-death crisis I just experienced should provide enough clues to form a coherent thread.
In the quiet room, Muen took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.
He integrated all the information he had gathered and began to speculate.
First, based on what I saw earlier, I can temporarily assume that the Saint Bran Phazesia currently stepping into destruction is the real one—the Kingdom's true Royal Capital.
Muen placed a detailed map of the Kingdom on the table in front of him.
And this Royal Capital I’m currently in—which looks normal but is utterly illogical and unreasonable—is merely a facade constructed by the Salvation Society through some unknown means.
Muen took out another map marking the key areas of the Royal Capital and overlaid it on the first map.
Most of the lines on the two maps overlapped quickly, with only a few highlighted points of emphasis showing discrepancies.
Regardless of how the Salvation Society achieved this, what’s certain is that this facade is incredibly realistic. It’s realistic to the point of being indistinguishable from the truth, like a perfect 1:1 replica of the real Royal City. At the very least, I can't find a single flaw in it based on my senses alone.
Muen glanced at Tyren in the corner. It was truly difficult to tell if this two-meter-tall "macho man," who was currently sulking over his drink and drawing circles on the floor, was real or a construct.
However...
Muen’s finger traced the points where the two maps didn't overlap.
Just because I can't find a flaw doesn't mean one doesn't exist.
For example... the corpses.
Those bizarre corpses.
What if those corpses weren't the result of people in this "Fake Capital" dying mysteriously, but were instead... falling over from the "True Capital" that was currently undergoing the disaster?
A falsehood cannot truly replace reality. This "Fake Capital" must have flaws. Perhaps during a tremor or a "running error," a "corpse" belonging to reality accidentally dropped into this world constructed of lies.
Just as Muen had "accidentally" fallen into the real world on the other side earlier.
If that were the case, everything about those strange corpses would make sense.
Why they died so suddenly, why they appeared out of nowhere, and the lingering anger, fear, and agony on their faces... They had witnessed that disaster and died within it. Of course they would be angry, terrified, and agonized!
So, if that’s really the case, then what happens on this side isn't important. Neither the Head Nun, the Church, nor the priest in the cemetery matters.
What matters is... I’m running out of time.
The deeper he thought, the heavier Muen’s heart became.
He could roughly understand the Salvation Society's goal. The Kingdom's Royal Capital was too massive; even for the Salvation Society, which had already seized control of the Kingdom's upper echelons, it was impossible to completely devour it in a short time.
So, they created this fake Royal Capital and used this layer of deception to stall everyone. Not just him, but the Empire, the Church, and anyone else who could intervene from the outside—all were blocked by this veil of falsehood.
Meanwhile, the Salvation Society could hide behind the curtain and leisurely enjoy their feast!
If everything is as I suspect, then I must break through this veil before the Kingdom behind it is completely destroyed! Otherwise, god knows what the Salvation Society will do with the millions of lives in the Royal Capital!
Muen was certain that this veil was not impenetrable.
It was simple. Not only were there those "glitches," but the Salvation Society had also left real personnel within this falsehood.
Like Head Nun Adeline.
She was definitely someone from the "real" side. Otherwise, she couldn't have summoned the true Repentant Witch before her death, leading to Muen being ruthlessly hunted the moment he stepped into the real Royal Capital.
But a single Head Nun Adeline wasn't enough.
To maintain such a massive "Fake Capital," the Salvation Society must have an even higher-level existence stationed on this side.
That "higher-level existence" might even be someone who held a Seat in the Salvation Society. They were the key to everything.
I need to find whoever is on this side and kill them. Once the one maintaining the illusion is dead, no matter how perfect the facade is, it will crumble.
And once the facade shattered, exposing the truth to the world, the rest would be easy to handle.
As long as the Salvation Society's goal wasn't complete, the Empire's army of hundreds of thousands outside the city and the poised Church would surely be able to crush their conspiracy.
When the time came, he would only need to lead the "heavenly soldiers" into the city. Would those bastards from the Salvation Society, who only dared to skulk in the shadows, not be beaten to their knees?
However... these are just deductions for now.
Muen didn't let his speculation cloud his judgment. He understood that no matter how perfect or logical a deduction was, it couldn't beat hard facts.
He still needed proof.
Proof that he was right.
"Tyren!"
Muen stood up abruptly.
"Here..." Tyren jumped in surprise. "I'm here!"
"The task I gave you earlier—any results?"
"Yes!"
Tyren nodded vigorously. "After you left yesterday, I had my men keep a close eye on any anomalies. It turned out exactly as you predicted; we found more of those mysteriously appearing corpses."
"As I thought..."
Muen narrowed his eyes. "The 'tremor' caused by the Repentant Witch herself didn't just affect me."
"What are you planning to do next...?"
"Go see those corpses. Right now."
"Huh?"
Tyren looked a bit reluctant. "Um... I’ve arranged a welcome-back party for you, my Lord. I brought over a few beautiful girls—all daughters of fallen noble families, which is why they... Wouldn't you like to relax first?"
"No need."
Muen put on his hat and stared at Tyren seriously. "I am a very devoted man. I don't mess around, and I certainly don't pluck wild flowers. Do you understand?"
"Ah... I-I see? So that's how it is. My mistake, haha. I wonder who the lucky lady is who gets to be your wife..."
Tyren wiped the sweat from his brow, thinking to himself that it was a good thing those girls were running late. If they had tried to bribe a true gentleman like this with beauty, who knows what kind of thunderous wrath it would have provoked!
As expected, someone who could become the rumored "Dark Emperor" was bound to be different from ordinary men!
"Let's go."
Muen ignored Tyren's wandering thoughts, packed up the maps, and headed out.
Time waited for no one; he had to move faster.
"Ah, L... Lord."
Just as he opened the door, Muen ran into the bartender from before.
The man was holding a glass of hand-pressed orange juice, standing outside the door trembling. When he caught Tyren's gaze behind Muen, he became even more terrified, his hands shaking so much he could barely hold the tray steady.
"Y-your orange juice."
"I'm not thirsty. You drink it."
"No... I can't drink it, my Lord. Please, please drink it."
The bartender’s face was pale. He hunched his back, approaching Muen in a pleading stance, as if his life would vanish from this world along with the juice if Muen didn't drink it.
He was humble, lowly, like an ant... and real.
"..."
Muen looked back and glared at Tyren, signaling him to stop intimidating the man.
Tyren shrugged innocently, indicating he wasn't doing anything and that the bartender was just scaring himself.
Muen shook his head and turned back. He was about to pat the bartender on the shoulder and tell him he wouldn't hold a grudge over a minor slight.
But on second thought, such a hollow gesture might not be enough to clear the misunderstanding. So, he picked up the glass and drained the orange juice in one go.
"Th-thank you! Thank you so much!" the bartender stammered, looking as if a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
"I should be the one saying thank you."
Muen savored the taste for a moment and decided that the hand-pressed juice was indeed quite good. He looked at the bartender and said sincerely:
"The orange juice... is very sweet."