Chapter 96: Chapter 96

Well, honestly, the one the Elder Council would most like to frame is probably me.

Even if Elin was dead, I was still a priestess and their enemy.

The Grand Elder supposedly belonged to a different faction than Nigellia, so I wasn’t sure if he also wanted to make me the scapegoat for the "Pebula Evil God" theory.

"If you think I’m making things up, tell me."

"No, it sounds quite plausible. They’ve already launched political attacks against you before, haven’t they?"

"So what you're saying is that the Black Serpent Cult, with you at the forefront, wants to stage my death?"

"It’s just a hypothesis."

"Then there's a high chance they'll record the process using an image sphere. They’ll use transformation magic to create a fake Siora Bonetti and put on a show."

"I agree with Your Highness, but if it were me, I would use a communication sphere instead."

"Ah, because an image sphere could get destroyed on-site?"

"That’s right, darling. Those orbs aren’t as sturdy as people think. The recording can still be done through the receiving end of the communication sphere."

Not an image sphere, but a communication sphere.

That immediately sparked an idea.

"If it's a communication sphere, that means there’s a connection, right? Can’t we trace the mana backward?"

"If they dumped the task onto a subordinate, then it wouldn’t mean much."

"Hmm. But would someone that secretive really entrust such a job to a close aide?"

"Well, we can't be certain that the Fourth Elder is behind this, but if luck is on our side, we might just get somewhere."

And before the Crown Prince could walk straight into the trap, Julian had already provided us with crucial information. Our luck seemed to be holding up.

After a long discussion, we reached a conclusion.

Thus, Operation "An Eye for an Eye, a Fake for a Fake" was born.

Fill the underground space with trusted investigators and a handful of suspected spies.

Then, equip the decoys with explosive magic devices and set them off, wiping everything clean.

This way, we could get rid of the undead necromancers, trick those using illusion magic, and settle my own grudge at the same time.

If the communication sphere tracking worked, there’d be nothing more to ask for.

The only regret was that I couldn't watch the spectacle up close—there was always the risk of being spotted by a mole.

From a safe distance, we waited.

Then came a thunderous explosion, shaking the ground beneath us. My heart pounded instinctively.

I barely had time to snap in frustration when the space near me wavered.

Cruello appeared immediately.

I looked straight at his hand.

He was holding a communication sphere.

I swallowed dryly, steeling myself.

Cruello lifted the sphere, grinning.

"Shall we head out right away?"

There was no reason to hesitate.

And so, we arrived in front of a mansion.

I let out a quiet, incredulous laugh.

"Julian has a sharp mind."

His theories surfaced in my memory.

"We've narrowed the suspects down to two."

"The only ones who seem to know this Elder’s identity are the Grand Elder and the Second Elder."

"Whoever it is, they’re involved with the cult’s activities, hold a decent position within White Desert, haven't dabbled in dark magic, and are so inconspicuous that no one even suspects them."

"And conveniently, that family has two individuals who are constantly holed up in their rooms under the guise of illness."

The first candidate was someone I already felt uneasy about.

"One is Eden White Desert. He was healthy as a child but fell ill due to stress after losing his wife. He rarely leaves his estate aside from occasional visits to the Imperial Library."

The second candidate—

"The other is Tetanio White Desert. He was sickly from birth. Aside from temporarily acting as a proxy duke, he has no official duties and spends almost all of his time in his chambers."

A former proxy duke, and Cruello’s uncle.

And both of Julian’s suspects resided here, in the Grand Elder’s estate.

It was almost ridiculous that after all that tracking, both suspects ended up in the same place—but at least it made the theory more convincing.

"Let’s head inside first. We can’t afford to let them escape."

Cruello approached the guards.

A person arriving on foot with no carriage must have been unexpected, because the guards gawked in surprise.

"I’m here to see Eden. Open the gate."

The flustered guard hurriedly unlatched the gate, and we stepped inside.

The Grand Elder seemed to be absent.

Dark mana hung thick in the air, yet no necromancers were in sight.

Instead, we were greeted by the first suspect on Julian’s list.

He wasn’t wearing his usual glasses.

A long-haired man with light brown locks rushed toward us.

Compared to the last time I saw him at the library, he looked even more gaunt and exhausted—every bit the image of an ill man.

Eden greeted us warmly.

"What a surprise! I didn’t expect you to visit. Ah, Lady Siora, it has been a while. Welcome!"

"Hello. Have you been well?"

"Thanks to your concern."

He smiled shyly at my polite inquiry.

At a glance, he seemed like nothing more than an innocent man despite his age. But something about him felt off.

I resisted the urge to narrow my eyes.

Cruello wasn’t any friendlier toward him.

His tone was cold as he asked bluntly,

"What were you doing, Eden?"

"Hm? Ah, I was just tending to the flowers in the greenhouse."

His confidence faltered at Cruello’s sharp tone.

He fidgeted, and as I glanced downward, I noticed something in his hands.

A single sprig of baby’s breath.

...Baby’s breath? In this situation?

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Was he really pruning flowers while watching the Crown Prince die?

If so, that would be outright deranged.

“...Actually, my wife’s death anniversary is approaching.”

“It’s been three years now.”

Eden lowered his gaze and gave a sorrowful smile.

Seriously, why does the timing always work against me whenever I deal with this man?

Just when I’m about to get suspicious, he makes me look like a terrible person.

I carefully managed my expression.

“There’s not much I can do for her at this point, but at the very least, I wanted to prepare flowers for her grave myself.”

“Ah, I see... I’m sure she would appreciate it.”

"When did you start trimming them?"

"Hm? About forty minutes ago, I think."

Cruello turned to the butler beside him to confirm.

The woman looked slightly flustered but nodded in agreement with Eden’s words.

"Why, is something wrong?"

"It's nothing. You seem busy, so go on with what you were doing. You have a lot of baby’s breath to trim, don’t you?"

"...You didn’t come to see me?"

"We did. But now, we’d like to see your uncle."

Eden gave a bitter nod.

Between the two of them, I darted my eyes back and forth.

I noticed it the last time we spoke about Eden, but just what happened between these two?

I could understand why I was suspicious of the Grand Elder’s son, but I still couldn’t grasp why Cruello was treating him this way.

Back when I was Amy, they got along well. Did they have a huge falling-out in the time I wasn’t around?

"Alright, I’ll be going, then."

Dejected by Cruello’s blatant coldness, Eden turned to leave.

But just as he reached the door, he hesitated and turned back toward me.

He then spoke in a cautious whisper, too quiet for the butler to hear.

"Lady Siora, I know this might sound strange."

"Be careful. My father does not hold good feelings toward you."

Was there anyone who didn’t know that?

For something spoken in secrecy, his warning was awfully underwhelming.

Eden hesitated as if he wanted to say more but soon shook his head.

"It was good to see you again, Lady Siora. I hope we meet again."

With that, he finally left.

The butler, who had been frozen by the frigid atmosphere, cautiously spoke up.

"Then, I will bring Lord Tetanio. Please wait in the drawing room."

Following the servant’s guidance, we made our way inside.

We took our seats on the sofa. When offered tea, we refused, and the servant left.

The moment we were alone, Cruello spoke.

"What makes you say that?"

"This estate’s greenhouse has glass walls. Too many people pass by. It wouldn’t make sense for him to risk recording anything through a communication sphere."

His reasoning was delivered in a voice completely devoid of any attachment or regret.

His tone was so devoid of color that I couldn’t help but grow more curious about what had happened between the two of them.

But right now, there was something more pressing.

"Since we’re ruling out Eden, let me ask you this—was he an illegitimate child? He didn’t learn dark magic, he doesn’t study doctrine, and during the Recanon riot—"

"He was taken hostage."

"And now he’s talking about his wife’s death? That’s also a bit..."

When Julian first brought up Eden, I hadn’t thought much of it, but now, the pieces were starting to overlap with things Cruello had experienced.

Cruello narrowed his eyes.

"Does Eden strike you as an innocent man?"

"I just have a bad feeling about him."

That ever-friendly yet subtly unpleasant impression.

The feeling I had when I saw him at the library hadn’t faded in the slightest.

If he had displayed even a trace of divine energy, I would’ve immediately considered him a candidate for the First Cult Leader.

As for proof? My instincts were enough. No one else ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) in the cult was more suspicious.

"Eden isn’t adopted, is he?"

"I see where you’re going with this, but no. The midwife who delivered him is still alive."

"What about a swap at some point while he was growing up—?"

"The illness Eden suffers from is hereditary from his paternal grandfather."

"...Right. Now that I think about it, there’s no way that old monster would have fallen ill."

"Speaking of which, darling—you’re adopted, aren’t you?"