Vera walked towards the lake.
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No, to be precise, he walked toward the old man who was gazing at the lake.
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He had a large figure that defied human standards, his white hair fluttering in the wind.
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And his worn-out priestly robes.
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“What are you doing?”
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Vera’s master and the current Holy Emperor, Vargo, was there.
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Vargo turned his head toward Vera.
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An ill-tempered expression briefly flickered in his deeply sunken eyes.
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“How did the meeting go?”
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The question was about the meeting that had just concluded.
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Vera moved next to Vargo and looked at the lake as he replied.
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“I took control.”
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“What about the lake?”
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“There was no significant progress. The only thing we’ve figured out is that the spirits in the lake are not missing.”
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Vera’s eyes narrowed.
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His superhuman body allowed him to clearly make out a distant, blurry flagpole.
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“The spirits are trapped in the castle below. That’s what the elementalists concluded.”
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“They’re better than wizards or sorcerers, it seems.”
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“Do you agree with them?”
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“Don’t you see it?”
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A crooked smile appeared on Vargo’s lips.
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Vera sighed deeply and responded.
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“...You’ve seen it through the God’s Eye.”
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Even without a lengthy explanation, Vera knew.
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He knew that the landscape that Vargo saw through God’s Eye was different from what they saw.
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“What do you see?”
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“I see something real, and also something disgusting.”
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Vargo’s eyes sunk even deeper.
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His tone was laced with an indescribable sense of revulsion.
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“It’s filthy and hideous. There’s no pattern or direction. Just as it is written in the memoir, it is an unholy and false idol.”
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“So you’re saying that it is Alaysia?”
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“Yes.”
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Tsk, tsk, Vargo clicked his tongue.
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In his blazing, blood-red retinas, countless lives cried out in agony and despair.
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“They’ve been ensnared horribly.”
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Vargo thought.
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“We can’t delay any longer. Go summon the elementalists, punk. And while you’re at it, bring the wizards and sorcerers as well.”
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They needed to break it down as soon as possible in order to silence those screams.
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Vera’s expression hardened in response to his stern tone.
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Vera nodded slightly, turned around, and headed in the direction of the barracks.
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The spellcasters investigating the lake had all gathered in one place.
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All of them seemed tense, their inner feelings consumed by fear.
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There was no other reason.
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The elderly man standing before them was the source of their unease.
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Vargo St. Lore, the Mace of the Lord.
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Since he broke the silence after fifty years, it would be strange if anyone could maintain their composure in his presence.
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This was a fear that particularly gripped the older spellcasters.
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It was a kind of fear known particularly well by those who had lived through that era.
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Amidst the tense atmosphere, Vargo spoke.
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“First, I want to thank everyone for their efforts in the investigation.”
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The slight smile that accompanied his words was clearly meant to acknowledge their hard work.
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However, no one smiled in return.
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Considering the rumors about Vera’s anger, there was a likely possibility that this was sarcasm.
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“Those responsible, step forward.”
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Vargo’s words caused three people to stiffen.
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El Claire, the Head of the Imperial Wizards.
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Miller, the Head Professor at Tellon Academy.
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And Pelle, who led the Elementalists.
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All three moved forward with a tense expression.
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Vargo chuckled at their expressions but soon offered them welcoming words.
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“I didn’t summon you to scold you, so relax. Are you really trembling in front of an old man like me?”
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As they were thinking that the term ’old man’ could not be more inappropriate for him, Vargo continued.
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“I just want to clarify one thing. Professor, your name is Miller, right?”
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“Yes, yes...!”
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“What’s the reason you haven’t figured out what’s happening in the lake?”
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Cold sweat broke out from Miller’s forehead.
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He felt a sense of crisis by the question pointed at him.
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‘Vera’s master...!’
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What did that mean?
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Wasn’t this the person Vera, who has a foul temper, respected?
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Answering incorrectly here could have unimaginable repercussions.
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Miller stood stiffly.
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His voice was filled with a nervous energy reminiscent of a new recruit on the front lines.
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“It’s the surface! The surface of the lake itself is enchanted, making it difficult to investigate what lies beneath!”
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“Enchanted?”
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“Yes...! We don’t know the exact basis, but we believe that the spirits below are responsible for this. Ms. Pelle!”
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Miller passed the baton to Pelle.
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Pelle, an elegant woman who had just entered her 30s, looked quite pale as she fidgeted.
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Shortly after, she glanced briefly at Miller, lowered her head, and spoke.
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“W-well, the presence of spirits is certain. The enchantment covering the surface resembles the sensory hindrance spells we commonly use. I don’t know what kind of spirit it is and why they are aiding in this… but the source of the enchantment is certain.”
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“Do the spirits you have contracts with say anything else?”
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Pelle shook her head.
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“...They are reluctant to even go near the lake. If I try to force them, they create a ruckus and start crying. Spirits have the intelligence level of a four-year-old child, so rational persuasion is impossible.”
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“I see.”
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Vargo stroked his beard while looking at the lake.
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Then, he suddenly spoke.
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“What if, just what if…”
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“Yes?”
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“If the water is the problem, then what if we remove it? Would you be able to understand the true nature of the castle then?”
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It was a question that stupefied anybody who heard it.
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The one who answered was El Claire, the head of the Imperial Wizards.
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“It’s... it’s possible! With sufficient preparation, we could learn a lot from even a brief moment of observation!”
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Vargo’s eyebrows lifted at the old wizard’s loud proclamation.
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“That’s what I’m saying.”
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A sly smile appeared on Vargo’s face.
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It was a smile that seemed somewhat dangerous.
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At that, the three of them flinched, and Vera stiffened.
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‘Don’t tell me...’
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Vera felt a chill run down his spine.
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“Your Holiness, don’t...”
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“Step aside.”
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The moment Vera tried to say something, Vargo unfolded his arms.