Chapter 706: The Inquiry (1)
"Hmm, it seems they've arrived."
A graceful woman rose from a bed woven from the roots of the World Tree, speaking suddenly.
Although she hadn't named a subject, Puppet, who had been reading beside her, understood immediately—after all, they were observing only one person.
"Did you spot Oliver?"
"No."
Lilith took a Filgaret Gift from her robes and brought it to her lips. Fsshh! The sound of a spark echoed, and hazy smoke drifted into the air.
"Instead, I’ve detected movement from the Sisters. They’re trying to hide his arrival from my sight. It’s proof enough that he’s come… You don't seem surprised?"
Lilith remarked, watching Puppet's calm reaction.
"I expected him to come."
"Whistle—! I like your confidence. Is that because you're certain in your preparations?"
"Prepared well, yes, but that doesn’t mean I'm confident. I’m no fool who misjudges the gap between us; if I were, I’d have long been destroyed."
"Destroyed, huh... Then?"
"It’s simply that I know being afraid won’t solve anything."
A comment seasoned with experience. If Lilith had been Puppet's disciple, she might have felt respect. Unfortunately, she wasn't, so respect was not what she felt—instead, she found herself pitying him.
Beneath Puppet's words, she sensed exhaustion, unease, and fear.
How could he not feel that way? After hundreds of years nurturing countless dark magicians, establishing the Black Hand, and reigning under the title of Finger, he had yet to fulfill his true ambition.
And now, with the end approaching, he was attempting something reckless he would not have otherwise dared.
And now, Oliver had entered this city—a being that no one on the surface could stop.
Puppet was not calm—he was forcing himself to be. All for one thing alone: his long-cherished dream.
Perhaps it was due to the similarity of their natures that Lilith could read him so clearly.
"Sigh... What will you do now?"
Lilith asked, exhaling smoke. Puppet closed the book he'd been reading and replied.
"For now, I'll watch. He might just behave... Can you keep monitoring him?"
"Hmm, I'll try, but I can't guarantee anything. Among the Sisters, I’m the weakest. I can hold on a bit with this artifact from the Moirai School, but if he directly confronts me, I can't say for sure."
Lilith tapped the World Tree root bed she was sitting on as she replied honestly.
Puppet showed little reaction to this, choosing instead to reassure her.
"That’s fine. I wasn’t expecting much anyway."
"Oh, listen to you. Here I am—ah, hold on a moment."
In the midst of their conversation, Lilith raised a hand to ask for a pause. She’d stayed connected to the World Tree and had detected something.
After a moment, her lips curled as if she'd seen something amusing.
"He's arrived at the Tower of Magic. With a new Archive."
A new Archive. Puppet knew who that was.
Through his corpse puppets, he’d seen everything that had happened in the Holy See State—it was Kevin.
Once the arrogant magician’s experimental subject, now a disciple, and eventually an Archive, Kevin had lived a twisted life marked by endless misfortune.
He’d been assisting in restoring order to the Pater Church, and now, at last, he had returned to Landa.
"I'll have to inform Tilda. I'm curious how she and the other magicians will react when they find out the new Archive is a Red-Skinned warlock. Predictable as it may be, I'm still curious."
Puppet mused, standing up with an enigmatic expression.
"Are you going to tell her yourself?"
"No, I’m meeting someone else."
"Who?"
"Kent. I'm curious to see his reaction once he knows Oliver is here."
...
Step. Step. Step. Step...
A group of people was crossing from Zone Y to the outer edges of Zone Z.
The group was diverse. Alongside members of the "Development Opposition Committee" wrapped in bandages were also people from the "Chosen Ones" in Zone X. This was quite an unusual occurrence.
Zone Z belonged to the Development Opposition Committee, a fact unofficially recognized by Landa City.
For outsiders to set foot on this land was highly unprecedented. Perhaps, if the Army of the Dead hadn’t invaded Landa, it was a scene that would never have been witnessed.
But that wasn't the immediate focus. What was more important was the individual walking at the front.
"Oliver..."
Someone muttered. It was the real name of Dave, the fixer known as the Woodcutter.
The real name of Zenon, who worked at the Tower of Magic.
The real name of Dave, who single-handedly formed the Redevelopment Committee, bringing together fighters and the Chosen Ones.
The real name of Dave, who turned Zone X—one of the largest slums in Landa—into a livable place.
And the true name of the Red-Skinned warlock at the center of countless rumors, including tales of subduing the Piper and even the apocalypse itself.
Above all, it was the true name of the sage deity worshiped by the Chosen Ones.
Noticing her murmur, Oliver, who had been leading, suddenly halted, causing Child-Second and the others to stop as well.
"Is there something you'd like to say?"
Oliver turned and asked, looking at a woman who had just muttered his name. People instinctively distanced themselves from her, leaving her alone under his gaze.
Half-frozen, she stammered.
"Ah, ah… Thank... thank you for… saving us."
Her body and voice were frozen, stammering like a fool. But no one laughed—everyone felt the same way.
Though they couldn't explain it, everyone here felt disoriented just from facing Oliver, as though neither their body nor mind belonged to them.
Even when captured by the kingdom's forces, it hadn't been like this. And then, they heard Oliver's voice, entirely devoid of emotion.
"No need to thank me. I just happened to see you in passing… nothing more."
His tone, like his voice, was entirely devoid of will, yet his meaning was clear.
He hadn't intended to save them; he’d just happened to notice them, like picking up trash with no thought or emotion.
From the perspective of those rescued, it was brutally indifferent.
It felt as though he didn’t see them as equals.
The woman who had expressed gratitude felt this keenly.
"Are... are you here to help us? Director Mari, I mean?"
She asked, her voice more of a verification than a genuine question.
"Who knows? I did come to see Mari, but not with any intention of helping... I have some questions for her."
At that, her expression froze. An upwelling of emotion surfaced on her face. After all, who was it that forced Mari to flee here? At that moment...
"Loti Daeikin."
"...!"
The woman flinched. Oliver had just spoken her true name. And for the record, she’d never given him her name—yet Oliver knew it instantly.
It was a startling revelation, but the shock didn't end there.
"Like most of the Chosen Ones, you come from the slums. Nearly sold by human traffickers, but you were rescued by Mari. Since then, you joined the Chosen Ones, where you were recognized for your talent and learned dark magic directly from Mari, serving by her side."
The information Oliver gave was flawless. There was nothing to dispute, leaving Loti silent.
It terrified her. She’d faced fists, belts, clubs, knives, guns, dark magic, but nothing scared her more.
This went beyond physical threats, reaching a higher level that threatened her soul itself.
"Like the other Chosen Ones, you worship me as a deity... Answer me."
Urged by his question, Loti gathered her slipping mind and nodded, instinctively realizing any wrong response would be dangerous.
"Yes... That’s true. We... we waited, truly believing our deity would come to save us, just as you did in Wineham!!"
"…"
"We genuinely believed, but now that you say—"
"Lies."
Oliver cut her off. His voice was barely a whisper, but it drowned out Loti's words completely.
"You worship me not because you believe in me, but because you want to impress Mari, isn’t that right?"
"…"
"You worship me as a deity simply to win favor with Mari, who gave you safety, bread, and purpose. You never really thought about me... A bit insincere, don’t you think?"
Oliver’s question silenced her, and Loti lowered her head, feeling something indescribable rise from deep within her chest.
Oliver shifted his gaze to others around him.
Though each was different, they were the same—members of the Chosen Ones, and the twisted individuals of the Development Opposition Committee, mangled by disaster.
Upon meeting Oliver's gaze, they, too, lowered their heads, feeling a complex emotion they couldn’t describe as they stared at the ground.
Oliver silently regarded them before resuming his walk, and those looking down soon followed in silence.
...
"Dammit, we’re out of medicine! Is there any more?!"
"None! We’re low on food too!! Only useless gold and jewels here!!"
"Damn it!! Someone, help here!!"
As they moved from the outskirts of Zone Z to its center, Oliver recalled that he’d been here before, guided by Bartholomew.
If he had to sum up Zone Z in a word, it would be barren. It was even more desolate than Zone Y, another area the city had abandoned.
To compare, it was like a dried-up mummy versus a corpse teeming with maggots.
Both were dead, but Zone Y was like the latter—a corpse swarming with maggots, giving off a faint hint of life (people).
But Zone Z lacked even those maggot-like signs of life.
Today, however, was different.
Zone Z's central area was bustling with people, most of them members of the Development Opposition Committee and Fighter Crew, struggling to survive on the remains of the devastated streets.
Running to and fro, they were tending to the injured, making it clear they were fighting to hold on.
Even more remarkable, the Development Opposition Committee members, who had remained hidden before, were now openly helping others.
"Are you sure there’s no more medicine?"
"Grrrr…"
"We’re going to have to buy some."
"How? We're surrounded. We can’t hold out, let alone leave."
Their efforts, however, clearly showed they were still short on supplies.
“Oh, you're safe too?!”
A voice called out, coming closer. It was Double-gun Sam, a core member of the Fighter Crew and a friend of Joe.
He approached Loti with another member, Iron-club Owen. From their disheveled appearances, it seemed they’d just come from a battle.
“You alright?”
“Y-yes… And you?”
Loti answered, still half-dazed.
“We were nearly caught, but then, out of nowhere, the kingdom's army was attacked, and we managed to escape. An incredible amount of long-range sniping and artillery fire... A miracle, really. If it hadn’t happened, we would’ve been overrun.”
Perhaps from the thrill of survival or a momentary release, Sam talked at length before his energy waned and he became pensive.
“But… who could it be? A sniper? An ally of ours?”
Sam’s sudden worry reflected the turmoil he’d experienced.
Seeing his anxious expression, Loti’s gaze shifted somewhere behind him. Both Sam and Owen followed her line of sight—and then they saw him, Oliver, watching the scene calmly from afar.
"Dave!!"
Upon recognizing Oliver, Sam shouted. Instantly, the air froze, and everyone’s gaze locked on Oliver.
“It's really him…”
“Dave, the new Finger.”
“The one who took down the Piper.”
The crowd gazed at Oliver with emotions of relief and joy.
After the terror wrought by the Army of the Dead and the crushing pressure from the kingdom’s forces, here was the one person they could trust.
He was the one who defeated the Piper and inspired dark magicians to willingly come forth to pledge loyalty. Whispers hinted that he might be the one to...
BANG!
Just as people began rushing toward him, Durance, the corpse puppet standing beside Oliver, fired a shot into the air, halting everyone in their tracks.
The sharp, heavy sound of the gunshot resonated like a savage echo, similar to the relentless barrage that had demoralized the kingdom's soldiers.
Instantly, everyone’s excitement deflated, and a chill swept over them.
Step.
In the silence that followed, Oliver moved forward. Sam looked at him and asked, his tone hesitant.
"Wh-where are you going?"
"To Mari."
"She’s injured but safe! But before you go, there’s something I need to tell you. Joe, he—"
Sam broke off as Oliver lifted his hand, a clear sign that he had no interest in hearing.
Instinctively, Sam fell silent, and Oliver continued walking into a nearby building.
Inside was Mari. Just as Sam had said, she was hurt, but her life didn’t seem in danger. A few others were around her, assisting with her care.
As soon as they saw Oliver, their faces reflected the same mixture of joy and relief as those outside, but those emotions quickly vanished when they met his eyes, and their bodies grew tense.
"Everyone, please leave."
It was Mari who spoke. She was covered in bandages from her various injuries.
Those attending to her exchanged glances, silently asking if she would be okay.
Mari responded with a firm look, repeating her request for them to leave. Reluctantly, they complied, glancing back at Oliver with apprehension as they exited.
Once they had all left, Oliver motioned for Second to wait outside, then stepped into the building alone.
The space, worn down by calamity and time, looked as though it could collapse at any moment, yet it had been cleaned to the point of feeling almost cozy. Still, Oliver found it unsettling, a faint sense of familiarity in its strange atmosphere.
Thud.
Oliver sat across from Mari without a word.
Mari, too, stayed silent, as though waiting for him to begin.
The two simply looked at each other for a long while until, at last, Oliver broke the silence.
"Mari."
"Yes, Dave."
"How long have you known that I am the Prince of Hell?"