I'm Sorry

For a fleeting moment, Lynch's face turned ash gray, his expression twisting.

He could hardly believe his eyes.

Diana was the contact for this group of deep ones?

The heroic noblewoman who had been willing to sacrifice her own body to perish with an evil god, the brilliant lady who had fought side by side with him for the past few days, the gentle friend who had been offering him kind words only a short while ago—she had turned into the contact for these inhuman monsters in the blink of an eye?

This was different from the situation with the hillmen; these things were vicious pirates, and mingling with them was dangerous.

Besides, even if you truly wanted to help the deep ones, you could have told me.

You were willing to entrust your life to me, so what else could you not trust me with? I am not some pedantic person who only sees rules and justice; as long as your reasons were sufficient, how could I refuse to help? Why deceive me, and why use such a method to trick me?

A wave of bitterness washed over Lynch. It was not exactly grief, but a profound sense of frustration and disappointment.

But he immediately realized the problem.

We were together just half an hour ago, and she knows perfectly well that I arrived ahead of time. Is she foolish, or does she think I am?

Realizing this, Lynch immediately tried to call out through the telepathic conch, but there was no response from the other side.

Something is definitely wrong.

Lynch quickly calmed down and carefully observed the figure that had walked up to the deep ones.

Everything seemed fine, yet Lynch felt something was amiss. Had he overlooked something?

Beautiful features, exquisite makeup, elegant movements, appropriate attire...

Wait, the attire?

Lynch immediately realized where the problem lay. Her clothes were indeed appropriate, and they were her own, but this was the outfit she had worn to the banquet yesterday.

What was she wearing today?

Well, he hadn't paid attention. But a noble would never wear the same outfit for two consecutive days, or she would become a laughingstock.

Therefore, this absolutely could not be her, at least not the Miss Valente who had been with him moments ago.

Then who was this?

Lynch suddenly had a very ominous premonition. This person wearing yesterday's clothes made him think of yesterday, and the thing that had left the deepest impression on him was...

The Gate of Falsehood and Reality.

Had the item fallen into Chloe's hands?

Was Miss Valente copied at the banquet yesterday?

Yes, that must be it. That was why it was wearing the clothes Diana wore yesterday.

But if this thing was a copy, then what happened to Miss Valente herself? Why was she not answering the communication?

For a moment, Lynch's mind was in chaos. As he worried for Miss Valente, he watched the humanoid figure—likely a copy—walk up to the deep ones, raise its voice, and say, "Welcome, visitors from the deep sea. On behalf of the Valente family, I extend my welcome to you. Thank you for responding to our invitation. Please rest assured, our Valente family will not let you leave empty handed; take whatever you wish from the city."

Lynch's heart sank. He finally realized what the copy was trying to do. They intended to use this method to frame Miss Diana and the Valente family with the crime of colluding with cultists and pirates.

Once the pirates began attacking the city, and the copy was seen with them, there would be no way to argue. The millennium of reputation of the Valente family would be destroyed, and Diana would be completely finished.

To kill someone and then destroy their reputation—what a vicious scheme.

He had to stop them; he could not let them succeed.

With a grim expression, Lynch made up his mind. He gestured for Maya to stay hidden and wait, then vanished and slid down the reef.

There could not be only these nine deep ones; there must be more behind them. Killing just these few would be meaningless.

The entire conspiracy was based on this copy. To stop it, the copy had to disappear, so that the reputation of the Valente family would remain intact.

Then do not blame me for being ruthless.

Replaying his deductions in his mind to ensure he hadn't made a mistake, Lynch transformed his cane into a serrated sword, gripped the handle, and crept silently toward the crowd.

The leader of the deep ones was standing face to face with 'Miss Valente,' while the other eight deep ones roamed and patrolled the surroundings, guarding the area tightly. However, the light was so dim that no one noticed a series of footprints appearing out of thin air, passing through the gaps between the patrolling guards.

Those were Lynch's footprints.

He only had one chance to infiltrate. Lynch knew these monsters would never give him a second chance to get close, so he remained as cautious as possible, avoiding the patrolling deep ones and inching closer to the two individuals in the center.

The two were still talking, their voices masking the sound of Lynch's footsteps.

"In accordance with the ancient agreement, we are willing to accept your invitation and do our best to sack this city." The deep one leader's hoarse voice was filled with malice, and its fishy face twisted into a hideous smile. "Do you have any other requirements?"

"I want to travel with you." 'Miss Valente' curled her lips and replied with a cold sneer, "And I want you to make my presence as prominent as possible."

"Of course, as per the agreement, your request shall be fulfilled. When are you prepared to start..."

The fish man's voice stopped abruptly. Its fishy face wore a look of human-like surprise as it looked at the footprints appearing out of thin air on the ground behind 'Miss Valente.'

Now.

Although it was not the best position, he could not afford to delay any longer. The conversation he had just heard confirmed his suspicions. Lynch no longer hesitated; he raised his cane and stabbed it toward the back of the copy.

The event was sudden. The group of pirate deep ones were stunned, staring blankly as Lynch suddenly appeared and thrust his sword toward the copy's back.

It was the copy that reacted instead. Perhaps seeing the danger on the faces of the deep ones, a flash of light erupted from the copy's body. The Shield of Piety popped out from within, blocking Lynch's cane. At the same time, it spun around sharply, pointing the folding fan in its hand at Lynch's head.

Lynch narrowed his eyes but did not dodge. Instead, he gritted his teeth and retracted the cane, taking advantage of the moment the Shield of Piety dissipated to strike again.

Boom.

Gunfire flashed. A shotgun fired at point-blank range.

However, the sky full of steel shot erupted from the muzzle, then passed straight through Lynch's head and slammed into the stunned deep ones behind him. Only Lynch remained unharmed.

《Nolan's Phase Fortress》 had activated just in time, allowing Lynch to exist outside of space.

Good chance.

Lynch held his breath, and his serrated sword thrust heavily into the copy's chest. However, it passed through without the slightest resistance.

The effect of being outside of space was fair; it did not change regardless of offense or defense.

Damn it, I miscalculated.

Fortunately, the three seconds passed in a flash. Lynch thrust his cane again, and immediately following it, the shotgun's second bullet was being reloaded.

I am one step faster than you, copy. Your Shield of Piety is too slow to use, I...

A thought suddenly flashed through Lynch's mind.

The copy is a soulless puppet, and its abilities come from the power of the soul. Therefore, it could only copy the body of an ordinary person.

Then where did her Shield of Piety come from?

Could it be that the person I am about to kill is real?

Why would she do this?

However, in the blink of an eye, there was no time to consider anything. The opponent's shotgun was already aimed at his head again, and a finger was already on the trigger.

Lynch's eyes turned bloodshot in an instant. He was no longer sure of his judgment, but facing the muzzle, he had no choice but to thrust his weapon with all his might.

To hesitate is to die. If I don't strike, I will be the one to die. I don't want to die, so I can only say I'm sorry.

At the moment he struck, the leader's fishy face revealed a trace of malicious, savage laughter, and in Lynch's ears, it was as if the chanting of the deep ones sounded once more:

In the immortal mansion of R'lyeh, the sleeping master awaits your dream.

"Pfft." Blood sprayed into the air.