Chapter 164 - Once Comrades

After hearing the report, Garnet muttered with a doubtful expression.

"Joseph Faust..."

Anyone who heard that name and learned his identity would react the same way.

"How could the Leader of the Alte Religion be working with those who worship the Void?"

The Leader of the Alte Religion was both the head of the Empire's state religion and the master of the Grand Cathedral. The position was filled through an extremely rigorous selection process, and Joseph Faust had even been evaluated for his latent potential during those proceedings.

"It's probably that guy called Doppler."

The one who answered was Zed.

He was waiting for Ferda's orders inside Garnet's hideout.

"Doppler?"

Garnet turned toward him.

"It's kind of like a doppelgänger, except way worse. It transforms into the actual person—looks exactly the same. I almost couldn't tell the difference."

"Does it copy their mana and unique abilities too?"

"Probably not."

The last Doppler Zed had seen had been the Headmaster of Escolleia.

The only thing that came to his mind now was that gleaming bald head.

Garnet pieced together the information she had received.

"Let's assume this Doppler thing really exists. You said it's a new kind of Demon Race, and that they're carrying out organized crimes?"

"Yeah."

"If everything is planned this carefully, then they must have deliberately chosen someone capable of using divine power."

"You mean to tell me a priest who uses divine power got tricked by the Demon Race?"

"Just because someone possesses strong divine power doesn't mean their personality is equally righteous. There were five hundred candidates competing for that position. Do you really think every single one of them was a devout follower of Alte?"

"So he joined hands with the Demon Race to seize power."

"Besides, if he's a bishop of the Grand Cathedral, there's little risk of being exposed."

Unlike ordinary priests, who frequently used holy magic, bishops devoted most of their time to politics and administration.

A bishop of the Grand Cathedral belonged to the central authority overseeing every diocese throughout the Empire, not merely the capital. Rather than being the kind of clergy known to the public, they were closer to administrators.

In other words, they rarely had opportunities to use magic. And given Joseph Faust's standing, no one would dare cast suspicion on him lightly.

On top of that, the Doppler had perfectly copied even his physical characteristics. As long as it displayed the unique traits that only Joseph possessed, its identity would be beyond question.

"So this time we'll have to infiltrate the Grand Cathedral. Once we're inside, we just need to find proof that Joseph Faust is this Doppler or whatever it is."

"Hmm... in that case..."

"In that case?"

"How much's the compensation?"

Zed instinctively curled his fingers into a circle.

Seeing the gesture, Garnet looked thoroughly exasperated.

"You're seriously negotiating payment at a time like this? You've already made a fortune."

"That would've been true a few days ago. Turns out I've got a leak."

"A leak?"

"Penelope. That damn demon woman secretly siphoned off my money and blew it all on entertainment."

"..."

"I'm going to kill that bitch."

Zed clenched his fist tightly.

Garnet had known about Zed's obsession with money since long ago.

Back when they had been in the mercenary company, one fool with sticky fingers had tried stealing Zed's money.

Zed had cut off his wrist.

And yet... he's letting that demon go?

Garnet stared at him in dissatisfaction.

Feeling her piercing glare, Zed became flustered.

"W-Why are you looking at me like that?"

"...Never mind."

The mission came first.

"You'll get your compensation, so let's work first. We've bought ourselves two hours. Within one hour, we have to find evidence proving Joseph Faust is a follower of the Demon Race."

"Any clues to follow?"

"None. We can't even obtain a floor plan on such short notice. The only thing we know is the guards' shift schedule. I'll have our people stationed around the area, but we'll have to improvise most of it."

"Our Regent never does anything the easy way."

With a sigh, Zed removed his armor.

He changed into clothing suitable for a follower of the church.

His distinctive appearance was concealed beneath ordinary makeup until he looked completely average.

His preparations for infiltration were complete.

"Oh, right."

Without forgetting, he picked up a card lying on the table.

On the stiff card was an illustration of a rabbit wearing a sparrow mask.

Ever since he had begun using the name Bunny Swallows, he had personally made those cards.

The moment Garnet saw it, she frowned instinctively.

"Do you really have to do something so pointless?"

Since Zed operated in the underworld, anonymity was essential.

In Garnet's opinion, acting like some theatrical performer would only leave behind clues that could eventually expose him.

"Of course I do."

Zed thought differently.

"Bunny Swallows is a champion of justice who punishes evil."

His philosophy was simple.

Precisely because he worked in the shadows, he had to shine brightly.

Inside the infirmary of the Golden Council.

Ferda sat beside Ulvera Consilus, quietly watching over his condition.

His Aura Reversal had weakened even his life force.

As an elderly man, his natural recovery was poor, and his condition showed little improvement.

If Consilus dies... will Arwen inherit his position?

Though Consilus had no son, he had treated Arwen like one, introducing him to noble society.

Young, highly capable, and possessing firm convictions, Arwen could probably fill Consilus's vacancy.

But that alone was not enough.

Right now, Consilus was the pillar holding the Far East together.

Only Consilus could fulfill that role.

Ferda needed him.

"How is Sir Consilus?"

An unexpected voice broke the silence.

It was Valdemar Golt.

"As you can see, he's stabilized."

"Good. He'll recover. It was only Aura Reversal."

"So you already know it isn't an epidemic."

"Naturally. Don't mistake me for someone foolish enough to be manipulated by the instigator standing over there."

Valdemar walked over and looked down at Consilus.

"Consilus... you foolish old man..."

After sighing, he took a small bottle from inside his coat and handed it to Ferda.

Inside the transparent bottle was a deep crimson liquid.

A Healing Potion.

"Give it to him. It's a recovery medicine made in Marquess Akard Dvelung's workshop."

"..."

"That fellow may look absent-minded, but he's one of the Empire's finest alchemists. His skills are unquestionable."

Ferda still made no move.

Understanding immediately, Valdemar nodded.

"Hmm... then..."

He drew a dagger.

Without hesitation, he slashed his own arm.

Bright red blood flowed from his forearm.

Then, as if to demonstrate beyond doubt, he dripped a single drop of the potion onto the wound.

The injury closed instantly.

"There. That should be proof enough."

"...Why go this far just to help?"

Perhaps others would have accepted the explanation.

Ferda did not.

He simply couldn't understand Valdemar's actions.

If Ferda distrusted him, he could simply choose not to administer the potion.

Why go to such lengths to prove its authenticity?

"I know relations between the Far East and us aren't exactly good at the moment. But I can't allow something so trivial to cost us someone truly important."

Valdemar's gaze shifted toward Consilus.

"Sir Consilus is a patriot beyond compare. In times like these, a patriot is more valuable than anything else. I refuse to lose someone like him."

Valdemar had shown genuine sincerity.

Ferda felt exactly the same about wanting to save Consilus.

Finally, he poured the potion into Consilus's mouth.

The pained expression on Count Consilus's face gradually relaxed.

He slipped into a deep, unconscious sleep.

"I thought you were a rational man."

Valdemar spoke.

"To be honest, this entire situation has caught me completely off guard."

"You're saying that after setting the whole board in motion?"

"I naturally assumed Duke Yurei was merely acting out of grief. Losing a child clouds a person's judgment—they begin seeing only what they want to believe. Most of the time, that isn't the truth. But this time... it was different. I never imagined you would truly kill the Young Duke of Yurei."

...

"If this continues, you'll be branded a black mage. Is that what you want?"

If Ferda became known as a practitioner of Black Magic, public opinion throughout the Empire would inevitably turn against the Far East.

The people's distrust of the Far East would become distrust of Ferda himself, creating the perfect conditions for internal division.

The only person with enough authority to suppress such public opinion...was Grand Duke Valdemar Golt.

"You should return."

That was Ferda's answer.

"It's unwise for an old man to wander around a place where we still haven't confirmed whether an epidemic exists."

After hearing that, Valdemar turned and left.

"Think carefully."

Left alone again, Ferda calculated the remaining time.

About an hour and thirty minutes left...

Within that time, they had to prove that Joseph Faust—the man accused by the black box—was a follower of the Demon Race.

It's entirely possible.

Zed Swallow had once been the greatest Master Thief to ever shake the Empire.

Now he served beneath Ferda.

Ferda possessed an extraordinarily capable subordinate.

But there was one thing he had overlooked.

"Regent Ferda."

A messenger entered.

"We'll resume the meeting in ten minutes. Please return to the council chamber."

The one thing Ferda had forgotten...was that the gods despised him with relentless determination.

Even so, Ferda did not resent them.

To resent something that did not exist was merely the sigh of a fool.

***

The Golden Council.

To Valdemar, the Golden Council was his domain—the place from which he overlooked the Arken Empire.

From his seat, he could see every human being clearly.

He could see their vulgar expressions.

He could see the disgusting faces they wore when their true nature was exposed.

He could tell who was a patriot...and who would sell the nation for personal gain.

"Your Grace."

Akard leaned close and spoke quietly.

"As instructed, I've ordered the meeting to resume."

"What about the Regent?"

"He's on his way. What choice does he have? He can't exactly run away. If he doesn't explain himself quickly in this situation, he'll only tighten the noose around his own neck."

"Well done."

The epidemic incident had ended with the conclusion that Count Consilus merely suffered from a preexisting illness.

Now it's time for the criminal to stand trial again.

The only difference was that the frenzy and bloodlust surrounding the execution grounds—so unfavorable to Ferda—had disappeared, allowing reason to return.

In effect, they had unintentionally opened another escape route for prey that had already been cornered.

But what else could they have done?

Valdemar was a seasoned statesman.

This was his home ground.

His opponent might be the husband of the Grand Duchess, the fiancé of a dragon...but he was still a youngster who had stepped into politics barely a year ago.

No matter how eloquent he might be, before overwhelming authority, the scales would naturally tip against him.

Escaping this predicament was virtually impossible.

Even Consilus—the steadfast wall that always stood beside him—cannot attend today's council...

The psychological pressure on Ferda should have been immense.

At least... it should have been.

Valdemar shifted his gaze toward Ferda.

He doesn't look like a man who's been cornered.

If it was merely an act, then he was the finest actor Valdemar had ever seen.

That fearless composure made Valdemar's heart race.

What a waste.

Most people lost value the more one came to know them.

Ferda was the opposite.

The more Valdemar saw him, the more highly he thought of him.

If only Ferda had possessed true patriotism...

Or if only he had shown even the slightest willingness to persuade Olivia Arken...

What a tragedy.

Valdemar subtly signaled Marquess Akard Dvelung with a hand gesture.

"We shall now reconvene. Regarding the matter of Black Magic, we will once again—"

Akard stopped speaking.

One of his aides hurried over and whispered something into his ear.

Akard's drooping eyes widened in shock.

"What? Why would they come here...?"

"What's happened?"

Sensing that something was wrong, Valdemar questioned him.

Still unable to hide his astonishment, Akard answered.

Valdemar was equally stunned.

"Why would that person come here?"

"I don't know."

"This is the Golden Council, where human affairs are handled. Inform them they cannot enter—"

"I'm afraid that won't be possible."

"Why not?"

"They say it's an order approved by the Grand Ducal Council..."

The Grand Ducal Council stood above even the Empire's laws.

Because it almost never intervened in ordinary affairs, its authority and legitimacy were absolute.

Any excuse the Golden Council might offer could simply be crushed beneath that authority.

Valdemar quietly glanced toward Ferda.

Even when he had first been accused of practicing Black Magic...

Even after that accusation had effectively become fact...

Ferda had never shown the slightest sign of panic.

'So that was why he remained so calm all this time...He already had something he could rely on.'

Valdemar let out a dry chuckle and signaled Marquess Akard Dvelung.

Akard relayed the order to his aide before reconvening the meeting.

"Before we proceed, there is something I must announce. Originally, now that the investigation into the Black Magic incident has reached its conclusion, we intended to hear Regent Ferda's final defense. However, Regent Ferda has formally disputed the accusation that he used Black Magic. Therefore, a new witness will be joining today's proceedings. The witness is..."

A person whom even Imperial nobles rarely had the chance to see.

Or rather—

A member of another race.

"The Master of the Blue Eye Magic Tower, Erika Iorga."

The council chamber doors opened.

Five mages entered in formation.

Long sapphire-blue hair.

Skin that seemed to glow with its own light.

More dazzling than gold itself, their mystical presence left everyone who beheld them unable to look away.

Valdemar glanced at Erika before shifting his gaze toward Ferda.

The moment he saw Ferda's face—

He understood.

Even this moment...had been part of Ferda's plan all along.

***

Ferda had anticipated that someone would tamper with the Duke of Yurei's son's corpse.

Just as expected, someone had interfered with the body, allowing events to unfold exactly as planned.

Beforehand, Ferda had explained everything to the Blue Eye Magic Tower and requested their cooperation.

Their answer had been immediate.

"If something like that happened... we'd help even without asking for compensation."

Erika had lost comrades to the Demon Race and suffered through countless hardships because of them.

Whenever demons were involved, she never hesitated to act.

Recognizing the gravity of the situation, she had even gone so far as to obtain Blancaros's approval from the Neutral Territory.

Her preparation had been flawless.

She's completely different once she's standing in an official position.

To represent the Aspect of Water, to become the face of the Iorga lineage...

Every bit of her effort had gone into embodying that image.

Standing upon the podium, she began speaking.

"People of the Empire."

Her voice was graceful, yet carried undeniable authority.

"I am Erika Iorga, descendant of the great Aspect of Water, Lady Iorga, and Master of the Blue Eye Magic Tower."

She spoke with the perfect balance of scholarly elegance and the dignity expected of a Tower Master.

"As many of you already know, I formed an alliance with Regent Ferda of the Grand Duchess Valdrova's Far Eastern territory. Together, under the banner of subjugating the Land of Demons, we have shared technology and magical knowledge. Most recently, we achieved remarkable success by adapting a magic circle capable of purifying contaminated water into Magitech Engineering. Thanks to that breakthrough, it proved immensely effective when the current siege lines were established."

Her expression grew noticeably colder.

"And yet, instead of praising Regent Ferda in this chamber, all I see are eyes that regard him as a criminal. Allow me to make one thing perfectly clear. He is a man devoted to purifying the Cerdes Continent. Such a person has no reason to stand here as a criminal."

She openly condemned the atmosphere that sought to portray Ferda as a murderer.

At that moment, Duke Yurei spoke.

"I sincerely thank and respect Lady Erika and everyone under her command for their hard work. However, if you choose to shield him merely because you're allies, then justice will never prevail."

Erika turned toward the Duke.

Her gaze was gentle.

Not threatening in the slightest.

"Duke Yurei. I understand that you are a father who has lost his son. But you are also aware that your son insulted a dragon, are you not?"

"Only one knight claims to have heard it. Among everyone present at that grand banquet, only a single person."

"When it comes to dragons, exemplary punishment is the rule. Do you understand what that means?"

Her voice became icy.

It was as though frost spread everywhere her words reached.

"Merely having one witness who heard those words is sufficient reason for execution."

A Dragon Spawn.

Coming from someone so close to dragons—yet so rational—the weight of those words was incomparable.

"The one who tried to keep this matter from becoming something larger was none other than Regent Ferda. Therefore, I believe it would be best to settle this appropriately."

"By 'appropriately'...?"

Duke Yurei trembled violently.

"Are you telling me... to pretend I never saw the man who killed my son?"

Having already lost everything, the grieving father spoke with raw emotion and reckless boldness.

Yet such a response was only possible because the speaker was a Blue Dragon.

Blue Dragons were expected to be intelligent.

To be rational.

"If Regent Ferda truly committed murder and intends to continue governing as Regent, then naturally he should receive the punishment prescribed by Imperial law."

Erika responded just as rationally.

"However... that only applies if the deceased was truly your son."

"...Are you saying that the dead man wasn't my son?"

The Duke reacted furiously.

To him, it sounded like nothing more than a desperate attempt to cover up the crime.

"It was absolutely my son! When his body was transported, I confirmed his identity over and over! The blue birthmark he'd had on his buttocks since childhood was still there!"

"No."

Erika lightly tapped her fan against her lips.

"That alone isn't enough."

She continued calmly.

"Those physical characteristics are merely evidence."

"They are not the truth."

"Then what exactly do you mean by 'the truth,' Tower Master?"

She turned toward the chairman.

"Chairman."

"Yes?"

"This is rather an improper request... but may I cast Deadman's Knock on the Duke's son's body?"

Deadman's Knock.

A third-tier spell.

It temporarily revived the consciousness of the deceased in order to obtain information.

Provided the necessary conditions were met, there was no better spell for uncovering the truth.

But there was one enormous problem.

"T-That's... Black Magic, isn't it?"

It was Black Magic.

"Are you saying you are capable of using Black Magic, Tower Master?"

"Yes. It's something omitted from the biographies known to the public. However, everyone who truly knows me is already aware of it. And I've never attempted to hide the fact."

Within the Twelve-Member Expedition, Erika had been responsible for wisdom.

Raw magical firepower had belonged to Erdes Roton.

Instead, Erika had sought to overcome every obstacle by preparing as many different tools as possible.

Black Magic had simply been one of those tools.

"Absolutely not!"

The Leader of the Alte Religion, Joseph Faust, vehemently objected.

"Black Magic is a byproduct of demons—a defiled darkness! As Alte's representative, I can never permit it within the Empire!"

Erika looked directly at him.

"Not even if it's used in pursuit of the truth?"

"Of course not. No form of Black Magic can ever be tolerated within the Empire."

Joseph Faust answered boldly.

Watching him openly challenge a Blue Dragon made everyone present break into a cold sweat.

It certainly reflected the uncompromising attitude of a hardliner...

Though in truth, it bordered more on reckless stubbornness.

Erika remained perfectly composed.

"Very well. If the President of the Magic Association also objects, I shall gladly refrain."

Her eyes shifted toward Erdes Roton.

Erdes had been watching everything from the very beginning.

Her expression made it clear she wasn't pleased.

The two women glared at each other as though they might devour one another.

Perhaps...

The entire plan would collapse here.

Then Ferda remembered Erika's words.

"She'll help us. No one understands the other better than we do."

At the time, Ferda hadn't been entirely convinced.

"Use it."

Erdes finally spoke.

The one most surprised by those words...wasn't Ferda.

It was Joseph.

"W-What do you mean... use it?"

"Do I really need to spell it out? I said cast the damn spell."

Those in the audience who still doubted what they'd heard nearly jumped from their seats.

"The President of the Magic Association is allowing Black Magic...?"

"Is she overlooking it simply because they're former members of the same expedition...?"

Sweat streamed down Joseph's face.

"President... what do you mean by this? Are you saying Black Magic should be tolerated?"

"No."

"That's not what I said."

"But if you overlook it just this once, wouldn't that violate your own principles? As President of the Magic Association, consistency should—"

"Ah... shut the hell up."

Erdes dug a finger into her ear before glaring straight at Joseph.

"Know why I hate Black Magic? It isn't the magic itself. I hate the bastards who sold their souls to demons. Sooner or later they end up eating their own children and forgetting even their own parents. Did you think our Erika gained it by selling out her own mother?"

"Even so..."

"Shut it. You're just some green little brat who doesn't know a damn thing about the Dragon-Demon War, and you've got the nerve to argue with me?"

Erdes rose to her feet and glared at Joseph.

The overwhelming pressure crushed him where he stood.

"What I don't understand is why you're so desperate to oppose this. We might actually uncover the truth. Or what? Do you believe that under your precious Alte's holy light, nothing can ever hide? Or perhaps..."

"Councilor Roton."

Akard interrupted.

"Please refrain from mockery."

Erdes exhaled sharply through her nose, forcing down her irritation.

Resting her chin on one hand, she looked back toward Erika.

The old bitterness between them could still be felt.

Yet...

There also remained the bond forged by fighting back-to-back as comrades.

"Go ahead."

"That's my opinion as President of the Magic Association."

The Duke's son's corpse was brought from the autopsy room and placed before the witness stand.

Pure mana condensed into Erika's hand.