12 O'Clock Marionette

Chapter 22

“...I see.”

Cruello paused for a moment, then wiped his face.

“It’s true that I want to get rid of Morion. But it’s just personal vengeance, nothing more.”

The words hung in the air, edged with a barely-contained storm.

Vengeance.

Is he looking for a price to pay for ruining his life?

It was a natural emotion, one that made sense.

“Intent aside, in the end, it will be a good thing for everyone, wouldn’t it?”

He quickly suppressed his emotions and smiled.

The smile was almost too much like a mask.

“Help me, for the ‘world peace’ darling talked about.”

I closed my eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

I needed to control my emotions as well.

“Of course, I’m not asking you to work for free. There are limits to human goodwill, after all.”

“What will you give me?”

“Is the revival of the Pebula faith appealing?”

Revival? That was a card I hadn’t expected.

“To be honest, I found it strange. Even the weakest of faiths have a voice.”

“Hmm.”

“But a priest of the mighty Pebula kept silent and locked away in their mansion.”

Ah, I see now. Before I arrived, Siora must have been interpreted as a persecuted believer.

“I only realized after reading ancient texts. If they were careless, they would’ve turned the current temple into an enemy. It was unavoidable.”

“Pardon?”

“There’s little recorded, so it could easily be turned around. With just a little manipulation—”

“Uh, what are you talking about right now?”

“...You don’t know?”

Cruello blinked slowly.

For the first time, he seemed flustered, and that made me feel uneasy.

What’s going on?

“We watched the puppet show together.”

“The Sacrifice of Moromoro? What’s that about?”

“The evil god in that story...”

Wait a second.

Wait, could it be!?

“...It’s Pebula.”

***

Bam bam bam bam!

Trumpet sounds rang out joyfully.

Then, the red curtains parted, revealing the stage.

[The Puppet Show: The Sacrifice of Moromoro is about to begin!]

Wooden puppets with yarn-covered heads marched out.

The puppet in the back opened its mouth wide and spoke.

[This is the tale of an ancient evil god.]

[The evil god harmed hundreds of people and used them as sacrifices.]

[Only the hero, Moromoro, noticed the evil deeds.]

[The holy war began!]

The puppets began to fight wildly.

They were small and clumsy in their movements, but the sound of metal clashing was vicious.

Finally, one of them emerged victorious.

Wow! The puppet raised its sword high.

[Ah, Moromoro has won! The great hero has driven the evil god’s saint away.]

[But.]

[There are still some remnants left.]

The puppet’s head swiveled around toward us.

The fallen puppets struggled to get up and stared in our direction.

For a moment, their eyes gleamed red.

[We can’t leave them alive, can we?]

Suddenly, the puppets lunged forward.

At the same time, the dream ended.

“Ah!”

I screamed and shot up from my chair.

I had been leaning over a desk in the study, so my body felt stiff, but that wasn’t the important part.

Maybe it was fate that I had this dream.

Cold sweat dripped down my back.

“...Siora?”

A familiar voice came from beside me.

It was Gavotte.

The milky liquid inside the vial...

"It’s the same as before."

It was just holy water.

I had heard that the Elders had framed it, but why was this being treated as poison?

Did someone report it as fake? Or was it swapped out?

Something didn’t sit right.

Just because the ancient church is treated as heretical doesn’t mean that the current temple is going around hunting down heretics.

They just dismiss them legally.

But they would investigate thoroughly... or would they?

I opened the vial's cap to inspect the contents more closely.

And then...

"Ha."

The answer was right there.

***

The short orange hair swayed at the nape of her neck.

The Ninth Elder, Qudil, was nonchalantly reading through some documents.

A post-harvest report—nothing interesting.

Of course.

It was a complete disaster, a mess she had pushed onto Ares and walked away from.

The divine beasts released from the harvest festival were now all taken to the temple and couldn’t be interfered with for a while. And because of that, the temple had been protesting to the Imperial Palace.

If that were all, it wouldn’t be so bad. But an anonymous informant had sent the temple a secret document as well.

The so-called Beatitudo Production Schedule.

Naturally, the temple was in chaos, and Qudil had taken responsibility for the incident.

If it weren’t for that informant...

She squinted, her eyes narrowing with annoyance.

"I swear, it seems like it's that young master. There’s no shortage of people who could secretly take it out."

Julian, who had brought the document to Qudil, responded to her irritation.

"I think so too. It’s easy enough to act like you’ve been brainwashed."

"Right?"

"Look at his actions lately. Acting like a fool over some woman—does it make sense to fall in love at first sight with no context?"

"Ah, that’s right. I heard about that. And I’ve been briefed on her personal details too."

Where did I put it?

Qudil opened a drawer and began rummaging through it.

A few disorganized documents fluttered and fell to the ground.

Well, someone else will clean that up.

After a moment, Qudil found the document she was looking for.

She flipped through the pages, intending to take a look at the woman’s face.

"Oh?"

"Well, suddenly I get it. The young master’s taste is pretty clear now. She’s not just any beauty."

"...Ninth Elder."

"Julian, is she not your type?"

"I..."

Julian’s eyes narrowed slightly.

It was obvious what he was thinking, and Qudil smiled slyly.

"Ah, of course, your type is that stiff one. Wasn’t she 181 cm tall? With her dark brown hair, she looked like some ancient tree."

"..."

"Just kidding, just kidding. You’re getting visibly upset."

Actually, it didn’t matter much.

Whether Cruello was brainwashed or pretending to be—it didn’t change the outcome in the end.

Qudil curled the corners of her lips into a smirk, then lowered her gaze back to the tedious documents.

Ah, this was so annoying... wait, what?

"Did the investigation into Count Bonetti get extended?"

"Yes, it’s related to the Beatitudo case."

"Hahaha, he hasn’t even left the Imperial Palace. Is he really just going to serve time in prison?"

Qudil chuckled carelessly.

It was oddly amusing to see someone unrelated suffer like that.

The last part of the report also amused her.

"Alright, this is being handled smoothly. Let’s aim to extract the sacred relic at the same time."

"I’ll handle the mole planted in the church right away."

"You're good at this, huh?"

Qudil stood up from her seat.

"This time, don’t mess it up."

Stretching lazily, she patted Julian’s shoulder a few times, and his expression grew more tense.

"Go on," Qudil gestured.

Julian bowed his head and left the room.

Staring at the closed door, Qudil smirked.

"A cute fool came from a noble family."