Chapter 42: Betrayal

Yet, even after she had finished reporting everything, the middle-aged man offered no response.

Silence descended upon the room, broken only by the man’s leisurely chewing of grapes.

As the man remained silent, Cathyviel maintained her kneeling posture, making no move to rise.

It was only after he swallowed the last grape, waving away the maid who was about to offer another, that he took a sip of red wine and spoke with an air of relaxed contemplation.

“Are you suggesting, then, that a Spirit Race member capable of fighting independently, without the aid of a Spirit Master, has appeared in this world?”

“Yes, Master,” Cathyviel replied, her deference absolute.

“Hmm…”

The middle-aged man acknowledged her with a hum, which was then followed by another prolonged silence.

Knowing the man’s temperament, Cathyviel understood that she should never initiate conversation while he remained silent.

This applied whether it was to offer a suggestion or to voice an opinion.

Finally, the man set down his wine glass.

He rose slowly, walked to the window, and gazed out at the expansive sky, before suddenly posing an unrelated question.

“Cathyviel, what are your thoughts on the matter of the Glorious Knight?”

When the man posed a question, Cathyviel naturally had to respond.

“Your subordinate believes there is something suspicious about it.”

“Oh, what makes it suspicious?” the man inquired further.

“Your subordinate feels that the Glorious Knight is not the type to betray humanity, or rather… it seems he had no discernible reason to do so.”

The man let out a sudden chuckle.

“If one seeks reasons, there are always many to be found.”

His tone was tinged with an air of contemplation, yet his gaze remained utterly calm and unperturbed.

“Perhaps his military achievements were erased, or he felt dissatisfied with the Alliance’s rewards, or he might have even uncovered a secret during battle that none of us are privy to.

“After all… he is the only one who has ever seen the Void God, and about the Void God, we know absolutely nothing.

“Of course, all of this is mere conjecture; we have no concrete evidence.

Yet… that alone is enough to suggest that his betrayal of humanity is not an absolute impossibility.”

Cathyviel offered no reply, for she genuinely had nothing to refute.

The man continued, “Five individuals were part of the Glorious Knight’s team, and all five assert that he betrayed humanity.

Interestingly, these five individuals belong to four different factions.”

“Charon Volkov, Ulysses Ross, Isabelle Hawthorne, and… the Oathkeeper Noah.”

As if recalling something amusing, the man suddenly chuckled.

He turned to face Cathyviel, though his gaze settled instead on the [Shimmering Spirit] (TL Note: A spiritual entity or familiar, likely referring to Cathyviel’s own spiritual companion or unique ability) behind her.

“Isn’t it fascinating?

The Abyss is clearly the sworn enemy of the Spirit Race, yet at the most crucial moment, when there was the best chance to slay the Void God, that representative of the Spirit Race instead prevented it from happening.

Tell me, what do you suppose was the objective of that esteemed Oathkeeper?”

Before Cathyviel could react, the man answered his own question.

“Before, I didn’t quite understand what she intended, but if what you say is true, then I believe I grasp her motives now.

However… is it truly worth it?”

“Between creating Spirit Race members capable of independent combat without Spirit Masters, and slaying a Void God, which is truly more significant?”

He seemed to be speaking to himself, but then he turned to Cathyviel and asked, “What do you think?”

Cathyviel’s eyes trembled!

The man’s words had unveiled an overwhelming amount of shocking information!

Yet, confronted by the man’s inquiry, Cathyviel found herself momentarily unable to offer any answer.

Nonetheless, the man continued to gaze at her, as if absolutely determined to elicit a response.

Sweat beaded on Cathyviel’s forehead as she pondered for a long time, finally speaking with hesitant deliberation.

“Perhaps… for that esteemed Oathkeeper, slaying the Void God was simply an impossible feat, and even if successful, it would hold no significant practical value for the Spirit Race as a whole.”

The man mused thoughtfully, “So you mean, creating independently fighting Spirit Race members holds more significance.

Hmm… does this imply she truly wishes for the Spirit Race to break free from humanity?”

He looked out the window once more, a hint of worry now clouding his otherwise serene gaze.

“Indeed, humanity has been rather reckless in its treatment of the Spirit Race.

Enslavement, abuse, treating them as mere tools, buying and selling them… even with the Alliance implementing a series of laws and regulations, it hasn’t been able to stop those profiteers and individuals driven by selfish desires from committing such acts.

And most importantly…”

He sighed.

The thought that some within the Alliance deliberately condoned such behavior left him feeling utterly weary.

“That damned Ulysses, a scoundrel who disregards everything for money.”

As Marcus Ryan, the one responsible for cultural and promotional affairs within the Alliance, his influence on the Seven-Person Council was not as substantial as that of others.

Consequently, he found himself unable to openly oppose the decisions of others on many matters.

Particularly regarding the Glorious Knight, he couldn’t even leverage the media to sway public opinion.

After all, whether the Glorious Knight had truly betrayed humanity remained something he couldn’t definitively ascertain, even now.

‘Perhaps… I should meet with Miss Merlo,’ Marcus Ryan mused, a faint smile gracing his lips.

“Oh, and please contact Ms. Chen and Mr. Victor for me.

I need to confirm their views on this matter.”

“Understood,” Cathyviel responded respectfully, then rose and departed.

Only Marcus Ryan remained in the room.

He gazed out at the brilliant daylight, his mood seemingly lightening with the view.

Or perhaps, it wasn’t merely the fine weather, but rather… the unfolding of something genuinely pleasing.

‘Hehehe, things might become very interesting from now on, but… it wouldn’t be good if they noticed too soon.

Hmm… I really should intervene slightly.’

He turned back, pressed the intercom on his desk, and instructed his secretary, “Connect me to the Roswall Family Head.”

****

Perhaps it was due to the overly effortless elimination of Andrew and Sylvie, but the remaining teams no longer harbored any desire to confront Melina.

After all, qualification was for the top five teams, and with only four teams remaining, there were more than enough slots, eliminating any need for further complications.

Moreover, the relationship between the referee and Melina’s team was clearly unusual; anyone with a modicum of discernment would naturally avoid seeking trouble.

Thus, this preliminary selection round concluded, both thrilling and perilous.

After politely declining Lien’s invitation to visit the Roswall family estate, Melina and her two companions returned to Dun City.

However, on this journey home, the trio had gained an additional companion.

Of course, to Melina and Sephylia, Qilin was less a companion and more like an intractable burr that had stubbornly clung to them.

Gazing at her own front door, Melina was suddenly overcome with a profound sense of relief.

“We’re finally home.

It feels like ages, yet we’ve only been gone for two days.”

The door opened, and Aida slowly emerged.

She smiled, her gaze sweeping over her daughter.

“Welcome home, Melina.”

Melina ran forward, embracing Aida tightly.

“I’m back, Mom.

Oh, and you forgot Merlo.”

Hearing this, Aida looked towards the maid who stood a short distance away, not approaching.

“Welcome home, Merlo.”

Merlo bowed respectfully, inclining her head.

“I am pleased to report that I have not failed your trust, Madam.”