Chapter 952: Battle Situation

Battle Situation

Cheng Shi did not know what Sun Miao was thinking, but he knew that if what Sun Miao said was true, everything seemed to fit together.

Xiao Qi... very likely is the beast tamer who kidnapped Xie Yang!

Thinking of this, Cheng Shi silently noted it down, showing no special reaction.

Seeing Sun Miao still studying him, he let out a light laugh and refocused his attention on the trial, wondering what had become of Kyn Laoer if Sun Miao had truly escaped to trouble Xiao Qi.

He still hoped to extract something from Kyn Laoer’s mouth.

So on the way back to Bolo Heights, Cheng Shi asked this question; Sun Miao gazed at the main camp atop the heights, her face slightly stiff as she typed:

“Compared to your beast tamer old friend, Kyn Laoer, who has long managed the Grand Inquisition, is undoubtedly harder to deal with.

You know that the highest judge in the left-wing camp is merely his slice—since he is a slice, controlling him loses meaning, because another Kyn Laoer can appear anywhere he is needed to accomplish whatever he wishes.

In my view, to uncover the true past in this campaign, it is better to carefully observe what he does than to confront an experienced judge.

Lies may deceive, but a person’s actual actions never lie.

If he intends to fulfill the Common Law Sect’s century-old vision, he must act in this campaign; all we need do is watch him closely, find the reasons for the Grand Inquisition’s failure and the decline of [Order], and in this most authentic past, you can certainly find what you seek.”

Though Sun Miao’s reasoning was sound, Cheng Shi’s expression turned strange; he glanced at her and teased lightly:

“Vice Chairman Sun, you didn’t get turned down when you tried to exchange intelligence with him, did you?”

“......”

Seeing Sun Miao quietly put away her electronic beeper, Cheng Shi grinned: “He killed himself? Otherwise, with your methods, forced interrogation should’ve yielded results, right?”

“......”

“Tsk, interesting,” Cheng Shi stopped walking and turned toward the central command camp. “But no big deal—if this slice is dead, we just wait for news of the next one.

But Vice Chairman Sun, I treat you as an ally; don’t play petty tricks on me. I know your Historical School excels at collecting history from the dead—so what did the dead Kyn Laoer tell you?”

“......”

Indeed, Sun Miao had spoken so much analysis merely to divert Cheng Shi’s attention, making him believe she had merely abandoned control over Kyn Laoer rather than forced him to death.

While Cheng Shi and Chun were preparing to deal with Lin Xi, Kyn Laoer had promptly died before Sun Miao’s eyes—he refused to exchange intelligence with an outsider, yet this highest judge did not realize his death itself was an exchange, a one-sided one.

So Sun Miao used her Historical School’s methods to infiltrate the corpse’s memories and found, among the fragmented recollections, a long-ago conversation between Kyn Laoer and Leidyala.

At that time, the former highest judge Loate had just died, and Rakis had been imprisoned in the Wailing Iron Prison for only a few days; Leidyala, investigating these events, sought out Kyn Laoer, who had rarely returned to Cateou Court, and what followed was what Sun Miao witnessed:

The two sat in the Grand Inquisition’s tea room, staring at each other in silence.

After a long while, Leidyala broke the quiet, probing: “You seem busy lately—how is the border conflict going?”

Kyn Laoer smiled and shook his head; he did not evade the question, yet he did not directly answer about the border war, instead bringing up the Tower of Reason.

“The followers of [Truth] seem to have chosen different paths, each firmly believing their own path leads to true [Truth]. I find this interesting—here, in the Grand Inquisition, we have never had such division.”

Leidyala frowned: “Isn’t the co-governance of different Law Sects our way of handling division?”

“No, it’s different. We revere always the same [Order]; they—each scholar believes he sees a different [Truth].”

Leidyala pondered for a moment, draining her tea.

“You seem to understand [Truth] well?”

Kyn Laoer gave her a meaningful glance. “Nothing is hidden from others. I know you are investigating His followers, and that you once cared for Galusha—but my knowledge of Him comes not from those around me, but from the fires of the Tower of Reason.

I am not interested in [Truth]; I am interested in this: if different followers pray to different [Truths], are all these [Truths] truly [Truth]?”

This was a terrifying question, even enough to be considered blasphemy in that era; yet the highest authority under [Order] seemed unafraid to speak of his neighbor, so Leidyala tapped the table and asked curiously:

“What are you trying to say?”

Kyn Laoer smiled faintly and shook his head. “Nothing. Just idle curiosity.”

“Soon it will be time for the tribute report to Him again—are you... going on another journey?”

Leidyala’s words laid the probe bare, yet Kyn Laoer made no denial; he merely stroked his gray hair, gazing into the distance, his tone wistful:

“Yes. The border is unstable—the war is intensifying. Time... is running out.”

The memory ended abruptly. Corpse memories vary—some complete, some fragmented—but Kyn Laoer’s memory, perhaps influenced by the slice, was especially shattered.

Sun Miao had only extracted this fragment; now that Cheng Shi had seen through her deception, to keep this greatest “client,” she had no choice but to reveal everything she had seen, then added:

“Kyn Laoer had long harbored disloyalty. He was not interested in [Truth], but in the fact that His followers each believed in a different [Truth].

This was the logical foundation for his plan to overthrow the old [Order], and the source of his claim to unwavering faith in [Order]—he was indeed creating a new [Order], attempting to personally forge a new ‘Order’ through faith transfer.

Unfortunately, the Common Law Sect’s century-long scheme failed, and instead it empowered Delvor.”

“Delvor?” Cheng Shi blinked in confusion—he had no memory of that name.

“Yes. You may not know his true name, but you certainly know his other name:

War King.

He was the first War King—the man who led the shattered War Legion through every blockade, shattered the war resolve of both the Grand Inquisition and the Tower of Reason with overwhelming force, founded the Kingdom of [War], and planted the blood-almond of war within the Volbeli Imperial Court!

He is now on the opposite side, just beneath Bolo Heights.”

Sun Miao pointed far into the distance, her expression unreadable, typing with one hand:

“Perhaps from this moment on, this era will no longer belong solely to [Order] and [Truth], but also to [War]—‘To survive, only blood and fire!’”

This was meant as mere reflection, yet fate, inexplicably, played a joke on these two players: the moment Sun Miao finished speaking, as the setting sun’s last glow faded, the entire Grand Inquisition frontline atop Bolo Heights began sounding the charge horns.

Horns shook the heavens, banners blotted out the sun—this epochal battle had begun, and the Grand Inquisition’s fate, like the dusk before them, began its westward sinking, sliding irrevocably into decline.

Cheng Shi stared in shock at the device in the hand of this [Silent] believer, thinking:

Your electronic beeper must’ve been blessed.