Chapter 274 : Chapter 274
Chapter 274. Characteristics of Demons
That day, several elderly priests laughed so hard that they nearly fainted on the spot and had to be carried straight into the infirmary.
It was also on that very afternoon that Pope Gregory VII, the man before them who now looked so kind and gentle that he seemed incapable of even raising his voice, had stormed straight into Saint Arcadia Academy in a fury.
The old man had stood outside the dean’s office and cursed at Dean Barnabas through the door for a full three hours. All manner of crude language had filled the air, and even “Divine Punishment” had been turned into the vocabulary of a street quarrel as he swore to punish Logaris, that little demon spawn.
The past was unbearable to recall. Logaris could not help sighing with emotion… mainly because he was afraid he might fail to hold back his laughter now.
The hand with which Logaris held his wine glass paused slightly. He suppressed the smile that had almost spilled from the corner of his mouth, and his eyes returned to a state as still and unreadable as an ancient well as he raised them to sweep across the hall.
The golden chair at the head of the main table was empty. The old king remained absent.
First Prince Dorg sat sickly in the first seat on the left, covering his mouth with a snow-white silk handkerchief and letting out a suppressed cough from time to time.
His gaze remained fixed on the plate before him, as though the roasted squab there was far more attractive than the Pope’s holy light.
Prime Minister Moran wore a perfectly measured, gentle smile. Like the most enthusiastic host, he quickly went to greet the Pope. He bent slightly at the waist, extended his arm, and made an impeccable gesture of welcome, every angle seeming as though it had been measured with a ruler and compass.
“Your Holiness, your personal arrival in the Royal Capital is an immense honor for Astrelia,” Moran said, his voice neither humble nor arrogant.
“To dispel the darkness. That is our duty,” the Pope said in a sonorous voice, tapping his scepter once.
Everyone took their seats, and an indescribable atmosphere lingered over the banquet.
The first half of the banquet was astonishingly quiet. There was no music, no dancing, and none of the useless pleasantries nobles usually exchanged. The atmosphere went straight to the point.
Moran stood and made a gesture. Two palace attendants pushed a cart covered in red velvet forward. Several thick ancient parchment books had been placed on top of it.
“Everyone.” Moran braced both hands against the table and swept his gaze across the hall. “The purple mist and high-tier magical beasts that recently appeared on the southern border have already been confirmed to involve hell demons. The royal secret archives have uncovered records from a thousand years ago. I hope to discuss them with all of you.”
He opened the ancient book on top.
“According to the written records, demons come in many varieties. For example, Flame Demons are reborn in fire, Succubi excel at bewitching people’s hearts, and Shadow Demons lurk within the shadows.”
Moran paused, and his gaze sharpened. “Different kinds of demons possess utterly different terrifying abilities. Some excel at direct conquest, while others are adept at manipulating people’s hearts from behind the scenes. But there is one even more important point. I ask everyone here to take note.”
He deliberately drew out his tone. “All high-level demons can perfectly disguise themselves in human form. They can even infiltrate the upper ranks of human society. Furthermore, they are extremely difficult to detect with conventional detection magic.”
An archbishop beside the Pope stood and picked up where he left off.
“Prime Minister Moran is correct. The Holy Church’s top-secret tomes also contain clear records of this. During the chaotic period a thousand years ago, demons disguised as important ministers of the kingdom were captured more than once.”
A cardinal snorted coldly. “Fortunately, the Holy Church possesses specialized divine identification methods. Otherwise, demonic infiltration might have completely overturned this world.”
The entire hall was silent.
The nobles present were not fools. The defensive line had collapsed, a traitor had appeared in the fortress, and now the matter of “demons being skilled at disguise” had been placed openly on the table. Panic began spreading along both sides of the long tables. Countless suspicious gazes cut back and forth across the people around them.
Beside Moran, a Military Undersecretary affiliated with the cabinet suddenly stood.
“Since demons are so skilled at disguise, and Scream Fortress seized a high-level hell token only a few days ago…” The undersecretary’s eyes flickered, and his voice sounded especially grating in the vast hall. “Is there such a possibility? That the claws and fangs of demons, or even a demon itself, are now sitting here safely and comfortably in this very hall?”
Those words were so blunt that they tore through every layer of decorum.
“Cough, cough.” Dorg continued coughing, still not looking toward the main seat. Elena sat in the corner with her arms crossed, resting with her eyes closed.
Amid the suffocating dead silence, Pope Gregory VII slowly stood. He pushed away the bishop beside him who wanted to support him.
The holy scepter in his hand struck the floor heavily.
Thud.
A visible ring of pure-white light rippled outward with him at the center, sweeping across the entire hall in an instant. Everyone touched by the halo felt refreshed and clear-headed.
The Pope raised his head. A terrifying golden radiance lit up in his cloudy eyes. His gaze passed over Moran’s shoulder, crossed half the great hall, and nailed itself directly onto the Northern Territory’s seats.
“This lord is correct. Demons are indeed extremely cunning.”
The Pope’s voice rumbled beneath the dome.
“They can drape themselves in the garb of scholars and even stand on the front line against Hell, using those merits to deceive the trust of mortals.” The Pope raised the scepter in his hand. Dazzling white light gathered at its tip, and the point of the beam aimed straight at Logaris.
His tone was calm, yet every word cut to the bone.
“I believe that when it comes to exactly how demons disguise themselves, Professor Logaris, you should understand it far better than everyone else present.”
At once, several hundred pairs of eyes turned toward the young man in the black-and-gold research robe. The twelve Holy Knights of Judgment gripped their sword hilts in perfect unison.
The air tightened to the breaking point.
Logaris remained seated in his chair. He lifted the goblet before him and gently swirled the crimson wine inside.
He raised his hand and pushed the rimless glasses on the bridge of his nose with his index finger. The lenses reflected the glaring holy light from the Pope’s scepter, concealing the extreme coldness at the bottom of his pale-blue eyes.
The entire hall was deathly silent.
The cold light from more than a thousand magic crystal lamps fell on Logaris. The gazes of several hundred Royal Capital nobles focused on him in an instant, weaving into an impenetrable net over the Northern Territory’s seats.
Logaris sat where he was and shook the goblet in his hand. The crimson wine slid down the inner wall of the glass. He raised his head and said calmly, “Why not speak plainly, Your Holiness? I do not understand what you mean.”
“My meaning is very simple.” Pope Gregory VII held the holy scepter and looked down at him from above. “You, Logaris, are a hidden demon!”
The moment those words fell, gasps rang out across the great hall.
Minister of Military Affairs Conrad frowned deeply and quickly stepped out from the crowd. “Your Holiness, could there be some misunderstanding here? Count Logaris just repelled a beast tide led by demons in the Southern Territory.”
Conrad had just pledged his allegiance to the Northern Territory. He absolutely did not want the piece he had just bet on to explode on the spot.
The Pope did not answer. He merely turned his head slightly.
A cardinal archbishop standing beside him stepped forward and took out an octahedral Recording Crystal from the sleeve of his robe. Mana poured into it, and an old magic photograph was instantly projected in midair.