I Became The Necromancer Of The Academy

Chapter 174: A Question

Magan’s corpse was lying there.

The moment they saw it, everyone became rigid, as if time itself had frozen in the banquet hall.

It was a situation where the highest authority figure of the host country was assassinated amidst a gathering of important dignitaries from different nations.

It was a scene that revealed the dangers of the place and also proved their incompetence at the same time.

“T-the Resistance?”

The first to speak was the heir of the Duchy of Valestan. Considering that the Resistance of the Clark Republic was famous enough to be known even in other countries, it was a somewhat reasonable deduction.

However, most people were skeptical. If the Resistance could cleanly assassinate thePresident in a place with so many powerful people gathered, it was rather strange that they had not been able to do it until now.

Rather than that…

“Rather than the Resistance, Griffin sitting closest to his seat appears to be more suspicious.”

Jordia, from the desert Kingdom of Jerman, stood with arms crossed and cast a suspicious glance toward the Griffin Kingdom.

Though openly hostile, Jordia’s attitude toward the Griffin Kingdom left them a bit flustered. However…

“You are forcing a ridiculous narrative here.”

Princess Eleanor dismissed it without hesitation.

“Why would we? We came here to make peace with the Clark Republic. There’s no reason for us to assassinate the President out of the blue.”

“…”

“We know that the Jerman Kingdom has taken a keen interest in us. After all, isn’t the situation that took place in the Marias Great Forest still unresolved?”

Without any hesitation or retreat, Eleanor firmly responded to the Jerman Kingdom, which openly sought reasons to slander Griffin.

Perhaps sensing a jab, Jordia kept his mouth sealed tight and didn’t unfold his arms. However, Tyren found that demeanor was even displeasing.

“Uncross your arms and apologize.”

His mana surged within the banquet hall—a closed chamber without escape.

In this place, while they were in each other’s sight, it wouldn’t be strange if someone else died if everyone closed their eyes intentionally.

“…”

Despite Tyren’s warning, Jordia remained silent, standing with his chin held high.

Eventually, Tyren stepped forward assertively, unable to contain his anger.

“What about the Secretary?”

Deia’s words echoed through the banquet hall, drawing everyone’s attention.

Deia, who had leaped forward, was examining the Dictator’s corpse and their surroundings.

It was a fittingly gruesome death for a dictator of a country, but more importantly, the Secretary with emerald hair was nowhere to be seen.

“The Secretary is missing.”

Deia’s words prompted the others to approach the stage one by one. Deia had looked around, hoping for another exit, but there was none.

“So, the Secretary was the assassin?”

“Oh, that’s possible.”

“It certainly seems more plausible to be the work of an internal assassin rather than us, the foreign guests.”

Swept along in their own flow; everyone offered their own opinion. However, from Deia’s perspective, it all felt a bit strange.

Then where did the Secretary go?

If the Secretary was the assassin, shouldn’t she have been present here?

That implied that since it was impossible to escape, she was probably still hiding somewhere within the banquet hall.

“Sir Tyren, please see to the safety of the Princess and the Saintess.”

“Hmm.”

Tyren nodded reassuringly and told her not to worry. He tapped his staff shaped like a spear on the ground to assert his presence.

“So where did the Secretary go then?”

“Hmm, that also seems strange.”

“We need to remain calm. The suddenness of the situation has narrowed everyone’s focus.”

As they spoke amongst themselves, the group quickly regained their composure, acknowledging their own distress, proving that they were not high-ranking individuals for no reason.

“Have you calmed down now?”

At that moment, an unusual voice came from the collapsed entrance. Emerald hair was faintly visible in the darkness beyond the light.

“Secretary!”

“There you are.”

The martial artists of the group immediately stepped forward in response. Tom, the Protector of the Duchy of Valestan, and Han So, an elderly God of War from the Han Empire, aggressively took a step forward.

The Secretary smiled at them before extending her hand.

“Have you all grasped the current situation properly?”

Her voice resonated softly but clearly, enveloping everyone’s ears.

She waited until she was sure everyone could hear her words clearly.

At the same time, she made it known that she was skilled enough to hide in their midst without being detected by anyone.

“The President of the Republic has been assassinated. The instigator was the Griffin Kingdom. Unable to withstand the pressure, Princess Eleanor confesses and commits suicide upon returning to the kingdom.”

“….What?”

Eleanor frowned and glared at the Secretary, who suddenly brought up her name.

However, the Secretary’s words were not yet concluded.

“Outraged, the Clark Republic declares war on Griffin. The Jerman Kingdom from the east pledges to assist us in conquering this wicked nation of assassins.”

“Hm.”

Jordia from the Jerman Kingdom remained silent and kept listening with his arms crossed. It was difficult to discern if he was approving or disapproving of this statement.

“The God of War from the Han Empire will support the testimony, and the heir of the Duchy of Valestan will assassinate his father after returning and will take over the leadership but feeling burdened, he will hand the command over to us.”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“Wh-What did you say?!”

Both Han So, the God of War from the Han Empire, and the heir of Valestan raised their voices simultaneously. It was hard to ignore the Clark Republic fabricating the story as they desired.

“Well, as for the assassin……”

Scuttle, scuttle.

The sound of something creeping and crawling around could be heard in the surroundings. Numerous somethings were on the move beyond the light of the Saintess.

“It’s you.”

The Secretary pointed to a woman with short hair.

It was Deia.

“Holding a grudge due to the raid on Norseweden, you received a special mission from the Griffin Kingdom to carry out the assassination, and you executed it splendidly. It’s truly impressive.”

Clap, clap, clap, clap.

It was the sound of mechanical applause.

The Secretary’s laughter echoed faintly from beyond the darkness.

“We were fooled too. Who would have thought that Griffin would attempt an assassination during a peace gathering.”

“Crazy bitch.”

Deia swore under her breath out of annoyance, but the Secretary shrugged and slowly walked forward.

“Now, this is where the manufactured story ends. If you dislike any part, please refrain from speaking out, unless you want to die.”

Hearing those words, Tom from the Duchy of Valestan stepped forward in disbelief.

“What bullshit! Do you not realize the responsibility you’ll have to bear if even one of us dies? How dare you present us with this shameless, self-fabricated story!”

“…I see.”

While listening to Tom’s words, Deia arrived at a rather unpleasant realization.

It was something that dawned on most of them present, and Princess Eleanor’s expression darkened significantly.

“Why did you say that?”

Darius asked Deia, who sighed. Seeing that he didn’t understand the situation at all and that Deus was tense with a hardened expression, she called them over and explained.

“Those bastards planned this from the start. They don’t care if everyone here dies. That’s why they created this enclosed room, so no one can see what happens to us.”

On top of that, with the death of their leader, the President, they ensured that no one could point a finger at them.

Ultimately, it was the Clark Republic who suffered the greatest loss.

“You don’t have to worry. We can easily find substitutes if you don’t cooperate.”

“Substitutes?”

“Well, let’s save that for our future enjoyment.”

The Secretary smiled and stretched out her hand. The only part of her that entered the light from the darkness was her hand that was pointing at the Saintess.

“However, only two people. Saintess Lucia and…”

The hand that was pointing at the Saintess moved towards Deus.

“Soul Whisperer Deus Verdi, the both of you must die here.”

At this emotionless death sentence, Lucia clasped her hands in prayer, and Deus struggled to maintain his composure.

“Hmm, but before that, I need to confirm one thing.”

The Secretary revealed herself as she slowly stepped into the light. Her eyes resembled those of a serpent, with an unnaturally long tongue protruding from her mouth.

Compared to what they had seen earlier on stage, it was a completely different appearance. Everyone present recognized it immediately.

She was a demon.

With the situation taking an unexpected turn, they had no choice but to be tense. The moment they realized that the woman was a demon, the words that just sounded like nonsense until now felt like cursed prophecies.

That showed how big a source of fear the existence of demons were for the people of the continent.

“Rather than seeking confirmation, I am providing you with an opportunity.”

“An opportunity?”

Her direct gaze pierced through Deus, who tilted his head in confusion. Rather than showing mercy, her pupils felt more like she was testing him .

And the very next words uttered by the Secretary made it very clear.

“Are you truly the Soul Whisperer?”

“…”

She was doubtful about his very identity.

All eyes in the banquet hall immediately turned to Deus.

The envoys from the Griffin Kingdom, who knew his true identity, were tense, while the people from the other nations were intrigued by the Secretary’s question.

He was the only Dark Mage acknowledged by the Griffin, which strictly opposed Black Magic.

Naturally, the other nations had also done their basic research on him.

“What do you mean?”

Standing upright, Deus tried to feign composure.

Seeing that, the Secretary’s lips curled into a sly smile.

“I suspect that you are not the real Deus. The man I met before had an imposing presence, an aura, and a calmness that you can’t even imitate half-heartedly.”

“…”

“So, I’ll give you a chance.”

Demons always tested humans.

They presented them with choices while reveling in their dilemma.

“Are you truly the Soul Whisperer? If you answer me honestly, I will let you live.”

“…!”

“After all, there’s no need to kill a man who isn’t the Soul Whisperer.”

A tense silence filled the room.

All eyes were on Deus, who was still pretending to have a blank expression, while racking his brain.

“Ah, really.”

But perhaps even that brief silence bored her, for the Secretary made another proposal.

“Alright then, just one thing. Answer this, and I will let you live.”

“What is it?”

“If you truly are the Soul Whisperer, one who comforts the dead and you possess the eyes blessed and cursed to see all souls…”

Tap.

Her long nails pointed at Deus’ eyes.

“Where is the soul of the recently deceased Lord Magan?”