Seeing Miss Valente’s expression soften and a hint of a smile return to her eyes, Lynch knew he had won his gamble.
This was, in itself, a test of trust, and Lynch had passed it smoothly.
The crucial point was that Lynch could not refuse this test, nor did he have the right to complain, for he had brought this upon himself.
Regardless of how one might deal with the hillmen in the future, the attitude of the Valente family was vital. Unless one was truly prepared to go to any lengths to clash with such a behemoth, maintaining a good relationship was all benefit and no harm. Now that he had established a positive impression through half-truths and cajolery, Lynch naturally hoped to solidify the connection, but he had underestimated the eldest daughter of a millennial noble house.
With her status, vigilance against malice and the ability to probe the human heart were already carved into her bones. No matter how gentle or kind she appeared, she was certainly no naive fool. Even if she had been misled by an information gap, she would not simply let Lynch pull her strings, and with a simple, well-timed gesture of goodwill, she had tossed the difficult problem right back at him.
If Lynch had been too afraid to drink, Miss Valente likely would not have taken any overt action, but today’s efforts would have been wasted, leaving him as nothing more than an ordinary, distant business partner. Only by drinking it on the spot did it signify that Lynch was willing to be the first to offer trust, which meant their future relationship would be of a different nature entirely.
Having created his own dilemma, he had to resolve it even if he had to shed tears, so with one last grit of his teeth, he drained the potion completely.
It was not a reckless gamble; Lynch had analyzed it carefully, and the possibility of it being poison was slim.
It was highly probable that their meeting was a coincidence. Since she could not have known she would run into him, she was not insane enough to carry poison around, so the bottle likely had no effect at all, let alone enough to finish him off.
Moreover, she frequently had contact with ghouls, so it was perfectly reasonable for her to carry a potion to mask the stench of decay. Therefore, the potion was likely authentic.
And most importantly, if there were a truly fatal threat, the Lady Luna would at least have offered a warning. Since his neighbor had not intervened, Lynch felt safe enough to drink it down.
It tasted truly awful—sour and bitter—and there was no sensation of heat flowing through his body after drinking it.
“I am waiting for Grant and Hoffman,” Miss Valente said with a smile as she retrieved the vial and tucked it away. Seeing Lynch’s confusion, she explained patiently, “Howard Hoffman, the mayor of Rhine City.”
Lynch recalled him—the refined man sitting on the other side of Duke Vane.
“This matter was requested by Nicolai. There are many things he cannot say directly, or it would cause me to be targeted by the mysterious as well,” Miss Valente said, looking toward the direction of city hall. “I have investigated. The Bester Tunnel project is primarily led and pushed by the Grant faction, but the overall engineering of the Norin-Rhine Railway is mostly managed by Hoffman. Thus, both of these men could control the site selection for the Bester Tunnel.”
“Maya said that Grant is in collusion with the sewer ghouls. I don’t quite understand—what exactly is the relationship between the sewer ghouls and Chieftain Nicolai?”
“They are different tribes, and their relationship is quite poor. You can think of them as two separate groups.”
“Are they also interested in Zur-Baha-Sahr?”
Mentioning that strange name for the second time, Lynch still felt a sense of anomaly. He understood that the mere pronunciation of the name contained significant mystery; if he were still an ordinary person, this name alone would have left him trembling in fear.
“Heh, it seems this is your first time encountering this name. Zur-Baha-Sahr was born in the Third Age and is the birthplace of their race. Although the city was swallowed by the earth due to shifting terrain, it remains highly significant to them. Furthermore, legend has it that a wisp of Mordiggian’s will lies dormant deep within Zur-Baha-Sahr. For their race, it is nothing less than a holy site.”
“Hiss, what is going on?” Lynch was startled. “Isn’t it said that the Great Old Ones all sleep in the Dreamlands? Why has this Mordiggian changed locations?”
“Its main body is certainly hidden deep within the Dreamlands. The physical world cannot bear the weight of their existence; once they enter the physical world, it is a cataclysmic disaster. Typically, this signifies that a fragment of its will has remained in the physical world. As long as the fragment does not exceed the limits of the physical world, it will not trigger a large-scale disaster.”
“Then what happens if this ghost city is dug up?” Lynch, already realizing the gravity of the problem, asked with a twitching lip. “Will this fragment of consciousness wake up? And what will happen if it does?”
“I would like to know the answer to that as well,” Miss Valente sighed, speaking softly. “It might enjoy a sacrifice and then go back to sleep, or it might return to its main body in the Dreamlands and never come back. However, it is also possible that it could draw its main body from the Dreamlands into the physical world. The samples are too few, and there is no consensus in occult studies regarding which outcome will occur.”
“Uh, are the consequences of all these scenarios quite severe?”
“Hmm, the lightest consequence would require the sacrifice of tens of thousands of souls to appease it so it continues its slumber. Otherwise, as it returns to the Dreamlands, the entire physical world would be disturbed, causing constant disasters in the Carlos Mountain Range, and perhaps half of the Kingdom of Lande would be affected year-round. As for the third possibility—heh—the arrival of a Great Old One’s true form in the physical world would inevitably create a catastrophic disaster. By then, not only would the Carlos Mountain Range and Bester Mountain be gone, but all of Rhine would cease to exist. It would be considered fortunate if even half the population of the Kingdom of Lande survived.”
“With such dire consequences, does no one care? What about those powerful individuals?”
“Zur-Baha-Sahr sleeping beneath Bester Mountain is merely a folk legend among a minority tribe; there is no practical evidence, and even fewer people know of it. Even if people did know, it would be useless. It would only attract fanatical archaeologists and naturalists. Because the legend of a Great Old One’s fragment sleeping is a legend among legends, it has almost no credibility if one is not familiar with the hillmen.”
“But such a dangerous matter—even if those in power don't know, surely if they found out, they would at least investigate a—”
Lynch suddenly stopped asking. He realized that those in power were not simply numbly refusing to investigate; that was why he had been commissioned.
“Whew, I understand. So Chieftain Nicolai and his people don't want their holy site disturbed, while the sewer ghouls are colluding with Grant to dig Zur-Baha-Sahr up? But why would they do such a thing?”
“Do not probe the reasons too deeply, Mr. Levive. This is a taboo behavior in occultism because the minds of mysterious entities are even harder to fathom than those of cultists,” Miss Valente said with a gentle shake of her head, her voice calm. “They certainly have a goal, but it is a goal that we normal humans may not be able to comprehend. Any attempt to understand it will only make our own thinking more chaotic, drawing our will closer to theirs. This includes Mr. Nicolai; he certainly has goals we cannot understand. Until everything is clarified, it is hard to say what is more in line with human interests, but at least for now, helping Mr. Nicolai investigate this incident is the least bad outcome. That is why I chose to help him. What about you, Mr. Levive? You have drunk my potion, and I am giving you one last chance to choose.”
‘Neighbor, neighbor, is she telling the truth?’
【Uncertain.】
‘Even you can’t be sure? Isn’t it said that gods are omniscient?’
【But I am already dead.】
‘That is a very sound point. I have no argument against that.’
【If it is true, you will be in great danger, but it is not a dead end.】
‘And is there profit to be made?’
【Hmm.】
“Maya is my client, Miss Valente, and I am also a human,” Lynch immediately adopted a righteous expression, saying firmly, “For the sake of human interests, I will, of course, stand firmly by your side.”
“Heh, then I thank you, Mr. Levive.” Miss Valente’s eyes flickered, and she nodded with a half-smile before gathering her things and standing up. “I shall return to organize the information and will pay you a visit in a couple of days. Today’s surveillance task is left to you. Once you see Grant or Hoffman, follow them.”
With that, she turned and hurried away, clutching her novel without waiting for Lynch to refuse.
Why did she run?
Lynch was puzzled, until he turned his head and saw the waiter standing beside him, staring at him with a smirk.
“Hm? She didn't pay the bill?”
The waiter nodded deeply.
“Not even for her own cup?”
The waiter continued to nod deeply.
And so, these nobles are truly the most wicked creatures in the world, without exception!
Rate on N.U.
