Chapter 198: A Close Call

Chapter 198: A Close Call

Because they had come early, Melissa and Benson were able to choose fairly decent positions, where they could directly see that a strange object had been added atop the gray-white stone pillar at the center of the square. One end was large, the other small; it was painted with dark-blue lacquer and connected to some kind of cable.

Beneath the object stood a squad of soldiers in red jackets and white trousers. They carried gray-white metal backpacks and held rifles of complex construction and no small caliber, warily watching every direction.

As citizen after citizen flowed in, the square grew increasingly crowded and lively.

When the clock struck nine, the strange object atop the pillar suddenly produced a sizzling, rustling noise. It finally transformed into a deep, heavy voice:

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am your emperor, ruler of Loen, East Balam, and the Rorsted Archipelago—George Augustus III.”

…That thing can speak? Is it based on the principles of the telegraph? Melissa’s eyes abruptly widened, and her attention instantly shifted away from the content of the speech to that strange object itself.

…

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am your emperor, ruler of Loen, East Balam, and the Rorsted Archipelago—George Augustus III.”

In Memorial Day Square in the West Borough, Audrey stood near the platform with her father, mother, and brother, watching the formally dressed king and listening to his speech.

Because she already knew in advance what direction George III would focus on today, and what kind of atmosphere he intended to create, Audrey had not worn the youthful clothes she personally liked, whether in color or style. Instead, like Countess Caitlyn, she wore a dress of simple, conservative style, pure black in color, and not a single piece of jewelry.

“…It is with both gladness and heaviness that I tell you: we have finally stopped the Feysacians’ first phase of attack and defeated their plan to destroy Loen within three months…

“…However, too many outstanding young people have already died on the front lines, died in this war. They should have had better futures. They should have accompanied their parents into old age, matured together with their spouses, and watched their children grow up little by little in an environment filled with love, enjoying beautiful childhoods…

“…The Feysacians destroyed all of this…”

Knowing why this war had truly begun, Audrey was not incited by the king’s speech. She merely felt he must possess a talent for drama.

She heard quiet sobs begin to appear throughout the crowd. She felt sorrowful emotions slowly emerge, converge, and brew.

This made her eyes redden slightly beyond her control.

The king’s speech was extremely false, but the people’s grief was real enough. Audrey had seen many relatives of those who had fallen in battle. She had helped poor people who, overnight, had lost children, husbands, and fathers.

This is the enormous resonance of emotion. This is the ideal occasion for consuming the Manipulator potion… Audrey suddenly gained an understanding, but she could not make use of it. Not only had she not yet digested the Dreamwalker potion, she had not accumulated enough contributions with Mr. World.

Slowly, she inhaled, controlled the fluctuations in her emotions, and moved her gaze away from King George III, allowing her thoughts to scatter without restraint.

“Mr. World cares a great deal about today’s speech. I wonder how he intends to use this matter…

“I hope it doesn’t bring too great an accident…

“Is that object called a ‘broadcast’ based on radio principles? Mr. World mentioned that some powers at sea have already begun applying this technology… Compared to the storm-ridden ocean, land is clearly more suitable for similar products…”

As Audrey’s thoughts rose and fell, the solemn, stiff George III, with two little mustaches, had already finished the first segment of his speech. He spoke solemnly:

“Let us observe silence here for our heroes. Ladies and gentlemen, repeat after me in your hearts:

“In the name of Emperor George III, may the heroic souls of the dead find peace. May they become eternal in the kingdom of the deities they believe in.”

Those words carried an indescribable dignity, causing all who heard them—including Audrey—to involuntarily lower their heads, clasp their hands together, and silently recite:

“In the name of Emperor George III…”

…

“In the name of Emperor George III…” On another side of Memorial Day Square, Klein, wearing a black wool coat and an utterly ordinary face, prayed together with the people around him, showing not the slightest abnormality.

During the three-minute silence, he used a bird marionette standing on the rooftop of a nearby building to carefully observe George III’s every move, trying to find signs that the king was about to quietly depart, enter a mausoleum, and consume the potion.

According to Klein’s understanding, the phrase “In the name of Emperor George III” was the core of the entire Black Emperor ritual. If George III intended to consume the potion, it would certainly be at this moment, or within two or three minutes after the silence ended. If he delayed any further, the effect would probably not be very good.

“Hm? George III is also observing silence. There isn’t a single unnecessary movement…” Klein restrained his impatience and confusion, waiting patiently.

The silence that had brought tears to many people gradually neared its end. Everyone opened their eyes one after another. At that moment, George III still did nothing. He spoke again, continuing his address:

“We have already passed through the most difficult moment. We shall certainly defeat evil and brutality. This is the power of justice. This is the power of every soldier on the front lines. This is the power of every worker in the factories…”

This… 0-08’s arrangement failed? George III truly has no intention of becoming a god today and is simply using this occasion to fish out enemies who wish to sabotage the ritual? After all, he can hold many similar speeches later… Klein’s brows faintly furrowed, one thought after another passing through his mind.

Suddenly, his expression turned a shade more solemn as he thought of a possibility.

In the blink of an eye, Klein swapped positions with the marionette Enyuni hidden in the sewers. The latter had the same clothes and appearance as him. From the outside, there was no difference at all.

Immediately afterward, Klein took four steps counterclockwise and entered above the gray fog. With the crimson star representing Miss Justice, he used True Vision to observe the square.

He was already Sequence 3 and did not need the Sea God Scepter to expand his range. Of course, compared to a Scholar of Yore, a Sea King’s True Vision domain was obviously broader. It simply was not necessary this time.

The instant Klein’s gaze fell upon the high platform where King George III was delivering his speech, his eyes froze—because there was no one there. Or rather, there was only a fake “phantom.”

It was an imagined George III giving the speech!

Before the speech had begun, Klein had been on guard against this very issue and had deliberately observed him, confirming that the one who had arrived was the true George III. Who could have known that within only a few short minutes, without him noticing at all, the real George III had become an imagined George III?

During the silent mourning, did he use the abilities of the Black Emperor pathway to Distort things, silently replacing himself with a substitute? In that case, George III should already have entered one of the secret mausoleums and is now consuming the potion, attempting advancement! Klein’s thoughts stirred. He hurriedly examined the surrounding area and discovered that beneath the platform, underground, an abnormal, immensely vast deep-black power was secretly growing.

Klein immediately picked up the Black Emperor card on the bronze long table and sensed it, using the Law of Beyonder Characteristics Convergence to confirm that the power belonged to the Black Emperor pathway and came from Distortion.

He’s truly formidable. On one hand, he uses the speech to “fish” for enemies; on the other, he uses a fake person to disguise himself while quietly leaving to consume the potion… There’s almost no time left… Klein’s spirit tightened. He immediately returned to the real world and, inside the sewer, recited in Jotun:

“Holy spirit who pursues knowledge;

“Beacon of the mysterious world;

“Eye that peers into fate;

“Queen upon the sea;

“Holy Bernadette Gustav…”

This was the honorific name of the Queen of Mysteries. However, it was somewhat different from that of ordinary Sequence 3s. Her range restriction was extremely large, and it could take effect even in Backlund. Klein suspected that Roselle’s eldest daughter used a Grade 0 sealed artifact to achieve this.

Bernadette rarely told others this honorific name, fearing that before she reached Sequence 2, certain enemies might use prayers and automatic responses to lock onto her position. This matched Klein’s own thoughts perfectly.

Klein had arranged with her that as soon as he recited this honorific name, she would choose any one of the secret mausoleums, use the blood he had given her to draw the symbol and open the door, then attempt to destroy it.

Neither he nor Bernadette expected this alone to succeed, because with angels on the other side, the guards inside the mausoleums would certainly recite those angels’ honorific names at intervals, allowing Them to remotely watch the corresponding area through prayer light spots. Once something went wrong, They would immediately hurry over to provide aid.

Bernadette’s main role was to draw attention.

Of course, if those angels descended too slowly, the Queen of Mysteries could also turn from support into the main attacker.

After completing this matter, Klein immediately reached his right hand into the air and grabbed.

As his arm drew back, a figure appeared before him.

It was a lady with ordinary features and pitch-black eyes. She wore a simple robe tied with a bark belt. Her black hair fell down, and she wore neither shoes nor socks, leaving her feet bare.

The abbess of the Evernight Cloister, leader of the ascetics, Servant of Concealment, angel on earth—Arianna.

It succeeded on the first try… Klein was startled, but he had no time to think further. He spoke quickly.

“Conceal my existence and protect the people of Backlund.”

He was worried that after George III lost control because the ritual was sabotaged, he might rush out of the mausoleum and harm the people of this metropolis.

“All right.” Arianna responded calmly, not stiff or rigid at all.

…Could this be the real person? Perhaps my summoning did not succeed. The Goddess may have long since had Madam Arianna quietly return to Backlund, and the moment she sensed herself being summoned, she came… Or does an angel of the Concealment domain possess a certain degree of control over her own image in the gaps of history? As those thoughts flashed through Klein’s mind, he realized he had entered an unusual state: one in which he could no longer be sensed by the outside world.