Chapter 287 : Chapter 287
Chapter 287. Dorg’s Discovery
Dorg closed his eyes and leaned his back fully into the broad leather sofa. Two seconds later, when he opened them again, the original probing and gloom in those eyes, which were slightly clouded from years of illness, had been swept away.
In their place was an extremely sharp, cold dark glint that had settled like a blade, as though a gambler who had endured to the very limit at the card table had finally decided to push forward his last and heaviest chip.
“My dear sister, you truly have grown up. You are even more ruthless than Father-King was back then.” Dorg picked up the snow-white silk handkerchief beside him, but he did not use it to wipe the corner of his mouth. Instead, he folded it bit by bit and clenched it tightly in his palm.
He casually tossed the crumpled handkerchief onto the table, and the weak, sickly air around him vanished completely. In an instant, his entire presence became extremely cold and sinister.
“Since everyone here understands the situation, I will not beat around the bush.” Dorg crossed his hands over his abdomen and leaned forward slightly.
“I know that the two of you have been investigating in secret in the Royal Capital. I also know that you must have noticed there is something wrong with Moran. You may even… have already guessed that the one inside the Golden Rose Palace has been completely controlled by him.”
The moment those words fell, the air in the entire reception room dropped completely to freezing point.
This was an absolute secret that could almost be called treason. Yet Dorg had placed it on the table without holding anything back.
Sylvia elegantly brushed off her sleeve, her tone completely undisturbed. “If Elder Brother merely wanted to exchange guesses that everyone already understands in their hearts, then this night trip would be far too boring.”
Dorg frowned. The Northern Territory’s intelligence network was even more terrifying than he had imagined.
“Of course, it is not only that.” Dorg took a deep breath and threw out the true card he had prepared. “Over the past three months, Redleaf Manor’s intelligence network has lost thirty percent of its core death warriors, all for the sake of investigating one matter. Namely, a cult force that has recently been spreading wildly through the Royal Capital’s underground.”
He paused, then spoke that name.
“The Corruption Church.”
Logaris, who had originally been leaning beside the bookshelf with a detached, unconcerned gaze, instantly sharpened his eyes.
“After I discovered this Corruption Church, I found that they frequently use human sacrifices. And not in small numbers.” Dorg’s voice lowered, carrying a trace of chill.
“Afterward, my people discovered that the fluctuations in the disappearance rate among civilians in the Royal Capital were extremely strange. Logically speaking, disappearances on such a large scale should long ago have alerted the security forces. But each time the Cabinet issues a ‘public security briefing,’ it can use various natural disasters or refugee migrations to precisely smooth out those numbers.”
Dorg stretched out two fingers and tapped them against the table.
“I hired a group of mathematicians to calculate the correlation between these data sets. The results showed that there is an invisible hand artificially plucking the Royal Capital’s mortality rate like the strings of a zither. And the one ultimately responsible for auditing these ‘pacified numbers’ is precisely the private office Moran established three years ago.”
At this point, an extremely dangerous dark gleam appeared in Dorg’s slightly clouded eyes. “In other words, Moran is not only fully aware of what those cultists are doing, but is even using the state apparatus to cover up their crimes. I have every reason to suspect that he is the power behind this Corruption Church, or at the very least, that he is in a deeply bound cooperative relationship with them.”
Logaris slowly raised his head, and the gaze behind his lenses was frighteningly deep. The situation in the Royal Capital was far more tangled and confusing than he had imagined. Grand Duke Kresis of Hell, the Authority of “Secrecy,” and now the Corruption Church as well… In an instant, his mind rapidly connected these seemingly unrelated clues.
Maggie had once said that the power used by the Corruption Church was strongly related to the Black Dragon King. Meanwhile, the Authority of “Secrecy” that Moran possessed was also very likely derived from the vanished Black Dragon King.
Could this Prime Minister named Moran have obtained part of the Black Dragon King’s legacy? A mortal who was both trading with a Grand Duke of Hell and suspected of having inherited a Dragon King’s legacy…
“If your deduction is true,” Logaris said, raising his head, his voice terrifyingly low, “then the current Golden Rose Palace is no longer the kingdom’s center of power, but the entry hall of Hell on earth.”
“What is Moran after?” Sylvia asked coldly.
“The entire kingdom.” Dorg gritted his teeth, making no attempt to hide his hatred. “Over the past few days, I have repeatedly reviewed his actions after Carlisle’s death. Do you think he handed Southern Territory defense and Scream Fortress over to Logaris because he was backing down? Because he was lowering his head before the Northern Territory’s strength?”
Dorg let out a short, cold sneer.
“Completely wrong! He is deliberately fattening up the Northern Territory. He is pushing every powder keg toward your side. Then, using the Pope’s visit as an opportunity, he secretly handed over the knife, hoping that the Holy Church would use the excuse of ‘demonic infiltration’ to justifiably dispatch the Order of Judgment Knights and crush the Northern Territory in one stroke!”
Dorg’s gaze was vicious.
“As long as the Northern Territory falls, he can raise the banner of ‘purging demonic remnants’ and naturally bring the already unified Northern Territory forces and Southern Territory military authority entirely under the Cabinet’s control. At that time…”
Dorg pointed at his own sickly body and mocked himself.
“In this Royal Capital, only I, the First Prince with one foot in the grave, will be left. Whether he directly kills me or holds me hostage to command the kingdom, it will take him no effort at all.”
Logaris listened from the side and quickly verified Dorg’s analysis in his mind.
Moran was pursuing an extremely stable open conspiracy. If the Pope had not been forcibly driven back by Barnabas, and if Logaris himself had not happened to pass the Holy Grail’s inspection without incident, Moran’s plan would already be proceeding steadily by now.
“Excellent analysis.” Sylvia spoke, pointing straight to the heart of the problem. “But the problem is that we currently do not have any ironclad evidence that can directly nail Moran to the wall. He controls the King. If we rashly make a move, by tomorrow morning, we will be defined as traitors.”
She turned to look at Dorg.
“The kingdom has its rules. Seventh-Tier powerhouses do not take sides or interfere in internal affairs. Without ironclad evidence, Teacher Elena and the Commander of the Royal Capital Guard will absolutely not draw their swords. With the military strength we have on hand, forcibly attacking the Golden Rose Palace will only result in both sides suffering heavy losses, ultimately benefiting the Valeria Empire on the perimeter for nothing.”
As long as Moran did not reveal a flaw on his own, he was Astrelia’s absolute ruler. Any direct attack against him would trigger a backlash from the kingdom’s entire state apparatus.
The study fell silent. The sound of rain outside the window grew increasingly clamorous.
Dorg suddenly spoke, his voice extremely low, yet carrying the madness of a desperado.
“Since he has hidden all the clues beneath the surface of the water, then we will boil the water dry and make him reveal his own fox tail.”
Logaris raised his eyes. “How?”
“The morning after tomorrow, Moran will represent the Cabinet and take a Magitech Train to Blackstone Monastery outside the Royal Capital to attend the annual Kingdom Heroes’ Blessing Ceremony.”
Dorg leaned forward, both hands gripping the armrests of the sofa tightly.
“Let us keep it simple and crude.”
“Since he enjoys being the hidden manipulator so much, we will attack him directly halfway there…”
“…and ambush him.”