After Annan self-sealed his ability to cast spells, the atmosphere indeed cald down.
And once the atmosphere had eased slightly, everyone subconsciously chose to accept Annan’s previous suggestion: why not sit down and have a good talk.
After all, Annan had taken the initiative to put himself at a disadvantage in front of everyone.
Although no one would benefit from it, people always tend to feel that they should be ingrained with guilt at such tis.
This layer of guilt wasn’t deep, and if Annan truly made any demands that would harm their interests, they would probably refuse imdiately.
But Annan only proposed a suggestion that was good for everyone at the mont... at least it was not harmful to any of them.
So, at this mont, they would subconsciously comply with Annan’s harmless command.
This was an opportunity.
If Annan could seize the initiative in the following conversation, his words would still carry weight in the next step.
Although "Gerald" had no combat ability, his status wasn’t high, his background wasn’t impressive, and his appearance wasn’t noticeable, people would still subconsciously follow his command.
That was because of human’s innate laziness.
An instinct that couldn’t be realized unless specifically pointed out.
Because distinguishing "whether a new leader in a group is trustworthy" and standing up to oppose authority requires a considerable amount of energy and carries the risk of being isolated.
Especially when the leader actually doesn’t have too much power, enough to shake their fundantal interests. Then it’s even less worthwhile.
This model is sowhat similar to a class leader election during school days.
Students often find that in most class leader elections, although they are in principle allowed to change, they typically don’t choose the best answer but continue with the initial choice.
So before encountering significant setbacks or temptations that shake the authority of a temporary captain, people tend to continue obeying the command of the temporary captain... even if everyone is sure that this person is not the best choice.
And what Annan had to do was to be that "useless temporary captain," to get them into the habit of thinking.
If they got used to obeying Annan’s commands, then when they heard an instruction that was harmless to themselves, they would subconsciously think "is it feasible" rather than question "is it possible."
So if Annan mixed so private affairs into the decisions, they would be unaware of it.
Under Uncle Giralda’s lead, everyone arrived at a tea house.
Although the disciples were all sent away, the tea in the tea house evidently wasn’t taken... they hadn’t fallen to that level yet.
With the help of the transford wizard Benjamin, they quickly brewed black tea and, as Annan had said, sat down to decide to have a calm discussion.
"Ah..."
Clare took a sip of the warm black tea and let out a sigh of relief.
She lay lazily on the table, seemingly lting into a puddle.
The emotionless ice-blue pupils of Maria still swiftly scanned the crowd.
"Speaking of which," she suddenly turned to Benjamin and started questioning, "I rember you are a famous ntor from Heath Tower of Black..."
"You’re wondering why I was chosen, aren’t you."
Benjamin easily saw through Maria’s intent and directly addressed her unspoken question.
He looked at Gerald with a sowhat complex expression, fell silent for a while, seemingly organizing his thoughts.
On the other hand, Eugene lvin, the Wizard from the Idol School, spoke for the first ti after entering White Tower:
"Because all four of his students were killed off completely.
"They were all slain by this... black wizard David Gerald."
His voice was distant and ethereal, as if touched by so divinity.
But his words, once again turned people’s attention to Annan.
Many wizards knew about this matter. But so who didn’t know or who only knew the outline were also present.
Annan also touched his nose, pondering over what expression would be most appropriate to use at this mont...
—He ended up just offering a bitter smile and lowering his head, without saying much.
I see.
He murmured to himself in his mind.
Is this the reason Salvatore kept muttering about why Gerald had to be killed?
According to the tiline, Salvatore should have already entered the Marshland Black Tower at this ti, but not yet beco a disciple of Benjamin. And it was because Gerald killed Benjamin’s disciples that the Black Tower expelled and wanted David Gerald...
But judging by Benjamin’s deanor, it seed that there was another story here.
Watching the two of them with their odd expressions, the faces of the other wizards also showed clearly intrigued looks.
—Wanting to hear the story.
—But to say it out loud would be too indelicate.
"Speaking of which," Clare lifted her head from the table, looking sowhat puzzled at the gaunt old man with sunken cheeks and deep-set eyes, who looked quite listless, "if Her Highness Maria is a Decree School wizard... then this person who has been silent all along..."
"His na is rlin Manning."
Maria glanced at him and introduced softly, "He once was... the ’Hand of Winter’ of our country."
...The Hand of Winter!
Upon hearing this designation, a chill ran through the eyes of everyone present.
The fabled Disability Wizards who have completely frozen their hearts and emotions, the unfeeling watchers... the secret intelligence departnt of the Winter Principality—or rather, the elite enforcers of the spy agency.
As Maria introduced him, the old man slowly raised his head and stood up, clumsily bowing deeply to everyone present.
He pointed to his mouth and shook his hand.
Maria added, "Of course... He’s been retired for five years due to a leg injury. He doesn’t have a tongue, so he can’t speak."
No tongue ant less chance of leaking secrets.
After all, the old hands of Winter knew too many secrets.
Even if the new generation of Winter’s Hand could guard against the to and fro of docunts and envelopes, the verbal transmission of intelligence was still unavoidable.
Information could be encrypted, unable to be written down, only verbally communicated a limited number of tis. But in this world, there exist Soul Reaping Wizards... In the face of close-range direct mind control, cutting off one’s tongue was a simple, convenient, and cost-effective way to ensure secrecy.
Of course, they could choose not to cut off their tongues, but then they’d be confined to a designated area.
Consciously cutting out one’s own tongue was also a way to reduce the workload of their successors. It allowed the ones overseeing them to be fewer, making their own retirent life a bit lighter.
...But even retired mbers of the Winter’s Hand were not to be underestimated by anyone.
These were Wizards capable of hunting down other Wizards.
Many spies were Soul Reaping Wizards.
Being able to defeat a Soul Reaping Wizard in a one-on-one battle was not easy. This was also under the assumption that they had high resistance to mind control... The Winter’s Hand, whose hearts were entirely frozen, were almost the nesis of the Soul Reaping Wizards.
But to be able to retire without any significant disabilities spoke volus about the terrifying combat abilities of this mute old man nad rlin.
"Now that we all know each other,"
the silver-haired and divine-featured youth, Eugene lvin, said in a calm voice, "I just had an idea that I want to share with you all."
"I think, beforehand, we might not have noticed a detail in the Master’s will... that is, ’the murderer can’t kill anyone.’
"—Have you ever considered that Master Michelangelo’s place of death might not have been inside the White Tower? If that’s the case, then the murderer would be able to kill, since they wouldn’t trigger the Curse Binding.
"But if Master Michelangelo died inside the tower, then there are roughly two possibilities... The first is that the murderer has taken the Master’s Curse Binding, aning they should have already advanced to Gold; the second is..."
He paused slightly here.
Everyone had already grasped his aning.
In the silence, Annan was the first to speak.
He looked directly at the silver-haired, saffron-eyed youth with an odd divinity: "Are you suggesting...
"That all of us are currently in Master Michelangelo’s nightmare?"
Once Annan said this,
the expressions of everyone present imdiately changed.
"...That’s entirely possible," Miss Clare said slowly.
The red-haired youth, Jin, silently nodded.
Maria’s brows remained tightly furrowed, her arms crossed as she fell into thought.
Giralda scratched his hair in distress.
Benjamin looked troubled and let out a deep sigh.
The mute old man rlin suddenly lifted his head, his gaze first landing on Annan, then shifting toward Eugene lvin.
lvin’s words had given everyone two directions to think in.
As everyone knows—
A Transcendent who dies unattended turns into a nightmare.
Therefore, if Master Michelangelo has beco a nightmare,
how can they be sure they aren’t in a nightmare right now?
If Master Michelangelo didn’t beco a nightmare within the tower...
That ans the thod of proving innocence through murder is flawed.
Because Master Michelangelo died outside the tower.
So the murderer wasn’t ensnared by a Curse Binding.
And if they are indeed in the midst of a nightmare...
Then killing soone in a nightmare, dying there... wouldn’t pose any problems, would it?
Annan’s brow slightly furrowed.
These two lines of thinking led to the sa conclusion:
They no longer had a surefire way to win.
They had to consider who the murderer might be...
—And then kill them.
Reviews
All reviews (0)