Ch. 213 Care to taste interrogation?
by AfuhfuihgsChapter 213: Care to taste interrogation?
“Weaker than I expected…”
She stabbed her.
Well, stabbed—but it was with a toy knife.
She passed out again immediately.
Not that it was surprising. Given the snap and glare of someone who could casually overpower ten grown men, it made sense.
“Utterly depraved heretics. To even exploit a timid child like this… Tsk.”
“…”
“…”
The ones silently watching from behind were at a loss for words.
.
.
.
“I’ve seen so many strange things today.”
Slightly removed from where the earlier standoff had taken place, a large cube and cylinder floated ominously in the air. They decided to hide behind them and regroup.
“Living geometry—if you can even call them that—and a little girl with horns. Right, she wields one of the dragon’s power?”
“She’s from the Shadow Cult. Remember the crystal tower we saw at the lake before? She’s the one who made it.”
“That tiny child is a key figure…?”
“Not sure if she’s the key, but she’s definitely important to whatever they’re doing now. Louveci didn’t target her for no reason.”
“…”
“Ah. After Louveci’s familiar swallowed that girl, she vanished without a trace. But now we’ve found her here.”
Mentioning Louveci brought silence, so she added more. Trace nodded quietly.
“I wanted to talk about those geometric creatures earlier.”
As they rested, Riley spoke up.
“Ah, those things. I’d love to study them if we had the time. Creatures with anomalous properties within spatial distortions—it’s been a while since my heart raced like this.”
“Research is important, but right now, we should focus on avoiding them.”
“Avoid them?”
Sugar cut in as the two exchanged words.
“If you saw earlier… Even when damaged, the surfaces and lines composing their bodies instantly rearranged, good as new. No matter how much we attacked, they kept regenerating. So we froze them to halt their movements, even temporarily.”
“Hmm… Recovery? Reconstruction? Whatever it is, we’ll have to handle them the same way if we encounter them again.”
“Maybe stronger magic would work… but that’s too risky.”
Their mana was limited, and there was no telling when they could escape. Unleashing spells powerful enough to ripple through space might just attract more of those creatures.
The three mages debated their next move.
“Ugh…”
Just as they were quietly discussing, a pained groan came from beside them.
They turned to see the girl slowly opening her eyes. Her irises shimmered like the multicolored gem-like horns on her head.
“Huh… This should be hell… Why is the Saintess still…?”
The moment she saw Sugar, her face twisted in dread—so Sugar promptly thumped her on the head.
-Thud.
Ah, this is fun.
“Ow…!”
“Snap out of it. You’re not dead yet.”
Sugar glared at the girl, who winced, tears welling up.
“Now that you’re awake, let’s get serious. Tell me everything you know.”
“…I don’t know how to answer if you ask like that.”
Though flinching, she answered obediently—likely because she’d expected interrogation. After all, she’d just seen Sugar brandishing a knife. Better to cooperate while it was still just words.
“Then I’ll ask one by one. First, the crystal tower. The one infused with the Evil God’s energy. You made it, right?”
She nodded.
“Hey. Use your words.”
A lie-detecting lantern hovered ominously in front of her.
“Y… Yes. I made it.”
“Why?”
“I was ordered to.”
“And the purpose of that order?”
“To fulfill the Cult’s desires—”
“Hey. Still playing dumb?”
She was evading.
Dodging with roundabout answers, probably assuming they’d use truth-detection magic.
“What exactly do they want? Care to really taste interrogation?”
“A-Alright, fine! I’ll talk… You won’t kill me after squeezing everything out, right…?”
“…”
Sugar’s icy silence made the girl glance away nervously.
“We won’t kill you.”
Probably—
Riley answered softly.
“…Killing me won’t do you any good either. Really.”
“Just answer. What does the Cult want to achieve?”
Frustrated, Sugar pressed, and B-13 let out a heavy sigh. Bound tightly in ropes, her squirming was almost comical—but her expression was far too grim for a child.
“…Descent.”
“…”
“They’re trying to summon the Evil God into this world.”
And so, the interrogation began in earnest.
“…How?”
“The sanctuaries—the things you call crystal towers. What do you think would happen if they were all destroyed at once?”
A familiar hypothesis, now voiced by their creator.
An assumption they’d made before. A concern they’d recently heard from the Holy City’s guardian.
The pieces fell into place. The creator was confessing openly.
“I can do it. And when the time comes, I will.”
The world would drown in the Evil God’s energy, and in that chaos, a ritual would take place. Or perhaps the destruction itself was the summoning rite.
Sugar stared at the girl, fingers twitching toward the knife tucked in her back pocket. She could kill her here and now—”Problem solved”—but she didn’t. Instead, she calmly considered something else.
“Then… if this succeeds, you’d need a controller afterward, right? Someone to guide that mindless, colossal entity.”
“…Yes.”
The girl hesitated before answering.
Sugar also paused, then spoke.
“The Evil God would need someone it loves.”
“…”
Silence.
No further questions were necessary.
Beside them, Riley’s knuckles whitened, veins bulging. His anger burned hotter than even the mastermind’s icy calm. His expression remained neutral, but the mana radiating from him betrayed his fury. No matter how much he suppressed it, the others felt its seething waves.
The prickling energy made Sugar flinch.
Then, B-13 spoke again.
“Saintess… I don’t think they’ll need you.”
Sugar and Riley frowned in unison.
“They’re not using her?”
“If not me, then who?”
An unexpected answer. To discard the Saintess—the one loved by the Evil God—was unthinkable.
“This part is just my speculation.”
The girl took a breath, her lips pressing into a troubled line. A maturity beyond her years. After a weighted pause, she continued.
“The Master… has been creating something. Busily. Since before I was born. Over and over…”
“Creating what?”
“A Saintess.”
The ultimate, miraculous, perfect being.
A challenge to the Creator.
“A being of pure mana, just like you.”
Her quiet words hung in the air as she lowered her gaze.
Sugar clutched her head, baffled.
“So… instead of dragging back a runaway Saintess who refuses to work, they’d rather make a new one to sit pretty?”
“…I don’t know the details. It’s just my guess. But I’ve seen the project, and the Cult’s never seriously tried to kidnap you. So… I assumed they wouldn’t use you as the controller.”
The girl stammered, eyes downcast. No red light flickered from the lie-detecting lantern. At the very least, she believed her own words.
A guess. Just a guess.
Yet it was unexpected. What the hell is even going on?
It was true—the Cult had never attempted to abduct Sugar. They’d crossed paths occasionally, but never made a concerted effort to capture her.
“Wait. Then what about the Mental Center incident?”
Riley cut in with a question.
“Ah… that was… our side acting on its own.”
“The Cult of Unity’s doing? Not the Shadow Cult’s plan?”
“Right.”
Sugar tilted her head at their exchange.
Mental Center? What Mental Center? That place we visited once before it shut down?
Riley waved dismissively when she glanced at him. She’d grill him later. For now, she nodded stiffly and refocused.
There had been one time the Shadow Cult directly targeted her.
The day of the exam.
“The revelation—you were there then. What was the Cult’s attitude? Cheering you on? ‘Go harass the Saintess, we’re rooting for you’?”
“Is this a sports team?”
The girl looked incredulous at Sugar’s sarcastic question.
“…It was unilateral.”
“Unilateral?”
“Verut… Apostle Verut acted alone. No—since it was a divine revelation, not technically unilateral.”
“So wait… the other Apostles didn’t know?”
“They’d know now, but back then, we slipped out quietly. He said he’d received a revelation during prayer and moved on his own. I just followed.”
“Meaning when you attacked, the others were in the dark? Even Claude? He’s the Cult’s liaison.”
“He happened to be away on business.”
Sugar fell into thought, stroking her chin as she pieced things together.
“If Claude had known about the revelation… would he have allowed it? Or stopped it?”
“…I don’t think he’d have stopped it, but he wouldn’t have cared. Actually… he might’ve been shocked. It’d been so long since the last revelation.”
“Hoh… Why are you answering so well all of a sudden?”
“In this situation, I don’t have a choice but to talk. And since I’ve been so cooperative, please don’t stab me.”
A masterful preemptive strike.
The Evil God’s Saintess nodded approvingly, organizing her thoughts. Talking to the girl had given her a vague impression.
‘This feels like… a disconnect between the Evil God and its followers.’
The Evil God had sent only one Apostle without consulting the others.
If it knew its followers were plotting its descent, and creating a replacement Saintess—why bother nurturing Sugar now? Why not just discard her?
There was a dissonance here. They seemed to be acting separately. Damutria wanted something from Sugar, while the Cult schemed on its own.
Then again, the original story had been the same. They were never unified—a mindless, rampaging god and followers scrambling to placate it by throwing it a doll.
‘And now the Cult of Unity’s mixed into this…’
Tch.
Amidst it all, Sugar focused on what she knew for sure.
The interpretation of the revelation Ione had shared:
The Evil God wanted Sugar to break the mental barrier.
It wanted something in Sugar to shatter.
And today’s intel from the girl:
The Cult was preparing to summon the Evil God.
They were also creating a being on par with Sugar.
‘Are these connected? How much do the Apostles know about the revelation? About me? And where does Louveci fit into this…?’
…
She blinked slowly.
There was one burning question left.
“You’ve been saying since earlier that my killing you would be bad for me too.”
“I did.”
“That wasn’t just because you didn’t want to die, was it?”
Given how she’d tried to negotiate even in danger, there had to be more at stake. And the horned girl’s next words confirmed it.
“…My death would trigger the activation of the sanctuaries.”
Delivered so flatly, it was almost anticlimactic. She’d just confessed to being a walking apocalypse switch.
Now Louveci’s motives made sense. There were plenty of reasons to target this girl.
‘But why leave her here unattended?’
Questions bred more questions, but the big pieces were falling into place.
Those Cult bastards. They’ve been busy. Daring to make their own cute little plans while ignoring the Saintess.
They needed to be punished.
“That answers most of my questions. Good job. Now then—”
Sugar dusted herself off and headed for her bag, shooting Trace a sidelong glance.
“Professor. About what we heard today… you know, right?”
“No need to worry between us. Though, the more I travel with you, the more astonishing truths I uncover.”
“Eheh…”
She laughed awkwardly and began unpacking pots and ingredients.
“Oh, Riley. You don’t have to help.”
“Fine. Do it yourself.”
The small bag seemed bottomless—potatoes, carrots, onions. A well-prepared survival kit. Then, a rabbit hopped out, leaving B-13 bewildered.
“What are you doing?”
“Cooking.”
As if it were obvious, Sugar picked up her knife and began chopping. A few swift flicks of her wrist, and the ingredients were perfectly sliced—almost like a magic trick.
“You’re cooking now? In a place like this?”
“That’s why we should eat. Rest while we can, replenish stamina. The long talk’s over—now’s the perfect time. Isn’t that obvious?”
Obvious?
The girl thought of the demonic crow that shoved packed schedules at her daily, with no time for meals.
“You don’t need to eat anyway,” that damn mute had gloated.
Then she remembered the deaf Apostle who’d briefly traveled with her, making sure she was fed.
Her reverie broke as she stared at the white-haired Saintess.
“…Do I get some too?”
“Obviously.”
The unspoken “We can’t starve you or leave you behind” didn’t reach her ears.
Her eyes just sparkled.
It was like watching a delinquent, known for violence, scoop up a stray cat in the rain.
“Ta-dah. Star-shaped carrots.”
“Nice cuts.”
“Riley, your potatoes are peeled well too. Uh, you know…”
“What?”
“Y-You’d make… a g-good husband someday, Riley…”
“…”
Whether he agreed or not, Sugar was already elbow-deep in cooking, the pot bubbling ominously.
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