Chapter 210: Turning Point (10)
Everyone's gaze turned to the helmet rolling on the ground in response to Lian’s reaction.
Lian, unaffected by the others’ responses, simply stared at the helmet with a grave expression.
It was unmistakably similar to the one worn by the bizarre man he had met in Kyren’s hospital room.
No, it wasn’t just similar—it was the exact same object.
As Lian looked at that helmet, he could once again feel the weight of the words Windy May and Yeriel had spoken.
“……”
Suddenly, the memory from that time flashed through Lian’s mind like lightning.
The man to whom Count Amiel had expressed heartfelt gratitude, saying he had miraculously cured Kyren’s illness.
Wearing an absurdly large helmet, recounting heroic tales with exaggerated gestures and speech.
And even approaching Lian himself to ask his mother’s name.
“…Lian?”
Cecilia looked at him with worried eyes.
Lian tried his best to stay composed, but he couldn’t stop the slight tremble in his voice.
“What’s wrong?”
To her question, Lian answered in a quiet voice.
“That helmet… I’ve seen it before.”
At his words, both Windy May and Yeriel slowly turned their eyes to him.
“Could you explain?”
“Yes.”
Lian began to speak—quietly, but with a clear voice—describing what had happened back then.
Kyren Amiel, who had remained ill even after leaving the Forest of Secrets.
How Count Amiel and Allen had grown deeply worried about him, and how, at Alem’s request, Lian had gone to check on Kyren’s condition.
Kyren, who was said to be at death’s door, had been inexplicably restored to perfect health.
And there, receiving Count Amiel’s heartfelt thanks for saving his son, stood that very man, wearing that same helmet—his identity unknown.
Along with that, the man’s fanatical obsession with Heroes and the stories he had spouted.
“This is… serious.”
As Lian’s explanation went on, Yeriel’s complexion darkened further and further.
Once the explanation had ended, he muttered with a deep sigh.
“It really is serious.”
Windy May, too, nodded with a solemn expression.
“This makes it impossible to even guess how far they’ve spread. Even Count Amiel—*that* Count Amiel—was involved…”
She spoke with an air of disbelief.
“He must’ve roamed the inside of the Academy like it was his own home, and yet we didn’t notice a thing.”
“……”
At her resigned words, Yeriel simply kept his mouth shut.
At that moment, there was nothing he could say, even if he had a dozen mouths.
“There must be a collaborator on the inside.”
“Yeah, and in a high-ranking position too. He must know the Academy’s defense system inside and out.”
No matter how welcomed a guest might be, the Academy’s security wouldn’t be that lax.
And yet that Masked Man had walked freely inside the Academy without the slightest obstruction.
While Windy May and Yeriel were narrowing down suspects, Lian suddenly spoke softly.
“…I don’t understand what he’s thinking.”
Lian muttered.
His eyes were calm but carried a shade of incomprehension.
“It’s strange that he showed up wearing that same helmet, knowing full well I’m here. He even started spouting things about Heroes again in front of everyone. He should’ve known I’d recognize him easily. So why…?”
“Well, Demons tend to go a bit mad after living for a long time.”
Windy May murmured quietly, as if she understood.
Her voice was composed, but there was a bitter undertone beneath it.
“After enough time, it’s normal for their minds to break. The boundary between themselves and the world starts to blur… Though, this isn’t unique to Demons—it applies to all long-lived races.”
With a shrug, Windy May added that there was no need to assign too much meaning or weight to each of his actions.
“If you're thinking of going there right away, I suggest you don't.”
“Because it could be a trap?”
“Yes, exactly.”
Windy May nodded.
And as he had said himself, Lian knew that.
But still…
“…I still have to meet Allen.”
“Lian.”
Windy May gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
Her hand was small and soft, but it carried a weight that could not be described.
“Of course, I understand you’re worried about your friend. But now is the time to act with caution. You know full well that the one wearing that mask isn’t just anyone. This could all be unfolding just as he planned.”
“…No, it’s *because* of that that I need to go.”
Lian spoke in a firm, unwavering voice.
“Just as you said, time is on *his* side, not ours. We’re already several moves behind.”
“……”
Windy May, who had remained silent for a moment, gave a small nod.
Seeing her like that, Yeriel stepped forward first and opened his mouth.
“I’ll go with you.”
He glanced between Lian and Windy May before continuing.
“Both my sister and Lian have valid points. So I’ll accompany him. That way, at least we’ll be somewhat prepared in case something happens.”
“…In that case, I won’t stop you.”
“What will you do, Sister?”
When Yeriel asked the retreating Windy May, pretending to give in, she answered with a confident smile.
“I obviously need to find a way to detect the iron needle. I mean, I’m supposed to be an Archmage—if I can’t even solve something like this, I’d be too embarrassed to show my face around. …Oh, that’s right.”
She clapped her hands as if something had just occurred to her mid-sentence.
“And just in case, how about we do a quick check among ourselves? It’s not that I’m suspicious or anything, but things like this are better handled clearly, right?”
Windy May spoke with a playful smile.
But there wasn’t a trace of amusement in her eyes.
“To see whether any of us have an iron needle embedded in our chest.”
“You’re absolutely right, Professor.”
As if she’d been waiting for it, Cecilia immediately nodded at Windy May’s words.
Then, without hesitation, she strode straight over to Lian and quickly reached for his collar.
“?!”
Startled, Lian instinctively recoiled from her hand.
His face showed clear confusion as he looked at Cecilia, but she instead wore a confident expression, as if nothing was wrong.
“Come on, Lian. Show me.”
“…Cecilia?”
“What’s wrong? The professor said we should check. I’ll check for you.”
Cecilia continued to look straight at Lian with an unabashed expression.
At the sight, Windy May let out a sigh of disbelief.
“…Miss Cecilia, you and I should check each other.”
She gently but firmly stopped her.
Then she turned to Yeriel.
“Yeriel, check Lian.”
Leaving those words behind, Windy May disappeared somewhere with Cecilia in tow.
Lian and Yeriel looked at each other briefly, then each loosened the collar of their shirts.
As their chests became visible, there wasn’t the slightest trace of an iron needle on either of them.
“Thank goodness. I was worried for a moment.”
Yeriel exhaled in relief.
He gave Lian an awkward smile.
“Sorry for doubting you. But it’s better to be sure with things like this.”
“Of course. I feel more at ease having checked, too.”
Lian nodded in agreement.
As the two finished buttoning up their collars, Cecilia and Windy May returned.
“……”
“…Sigh.”
Windy May wore a somewhat drained expression, while Cecilia still looked slightly pouty, as if something wasn’t to her liking.
“Then I’ll go meet Allen. And…”
He hesitated briefly, then gave a nod.
“…If possible, I think it would be good to meet someone else too.”
“Who?”
“…Cardinal Bruyant.”
After a short pause, he added,
“When I spoke with him recently, several things seemed strange. He suddenly started talking about miracles with no context, and made bizarre sounds in the middle of the conversation.”
Along with that, Lian recalled the enormous iron needle lodged in Lancia’s chest he had seen in his dream.
Remembering that, he could only hope that his suspicion was unfounded.
---
“……”
The Masked Man was walking silently.
With every step he took, the sound of his footsteps echoed in every direction.
Though all of his wounds had already healed, the pain from the final blow still lingered faintly, irritating his nerves.
Yet even that pain felt pleasant to him, and he continued walking without a word.
How long had he walked like that?
Before long, an enormous, dazzlingly ornate circular space came into view.
Along the curved walls stood numerous statues, placed at even intervals.
Each one was sculpted with lifelike detail and grandeur, as if it could start moving at any moment, and all the statues were turned toward the center of the space, as if in reverence.
At the very center, where all the statues were gazing, stood a figure no citizen of the Empire could possibly fail to recognize.
The statue of the First Emperor and the Great Emperor stood tall and majestic.
“……”
The Masked Man stepped into the center of the space and came to a stop before the Great Emperor’s statue.
Then, as if offering a brief moment of silence, he lowered his posture in respect.
After a short bow, he approached someone who was curled up and sleeping in the shadow beneath the statue.
“…Sss. Sss.”
That person was deep in slumber, completely unaware of the Masked Man’s approach.
Only the steady rhythm of their breathing proved that they were still alive.
The Masked Man looked down at the sleeping person in silence.
Then, a faint murmur escaped the sleeper’s lips.
“…Lady Talia.”
The voice was filled with sorrow.
“…Lord Siren.”
“Ortega…”
“Lurus…”
As if calling out to dearly missed loved ones, the names of the Wolpen Knights tumbled from the sleeper’s lips one after another.
And finally, with a whisper barely louder than a breath, came a last murmur.
“I want to see them again…”
Hearing this, the Masked Man tilted his head toward the sleeper, as if in disbelief, and said,
“…They’re all dead. How do you expect to see them again?”
“?!”
Startled by the voice, the sleeping person jerked awake.
As they sat up, the hood over their head fell off.
As the person panted, drenched in cold sweat, the Masked Man greeted them politely.
“Good morning, Arpentia.”
Then, as if adding an afterthought, he said,
“I’ve found someone with a very fine heart.”