"Not even a sliver of hope?"
Hearing Shar speak with such finality, Jem Woz asked somewhat unwillingly.
Shaking his head, Shar answered bluntly, "None at all. Though my strength isn't world-class, I'm still considered a rare powerhouse—first-rate by any nation's standards. When facing Orsaga, even during the period right after his descent when he hadn't yet familiarized himself with this world, the power within him was at least hundreds of times greater than mine...
"And not long after that, my connection with him was completely severed. Before it broke, I could still sense him growing stronger—or perhaps recovering? All I know is that the gap between us kept widening."
After a moment of silence, Jem Woz said, "We still have to find a way, don't we? Neither of us is the type to just sit and wait for death..."
Shar didn't argue but sighed helplessly. "True, but right now, there's no opportunity. The spells he cast on us haven't been lifted—we don't even have the right to resist.
"In fact, to this day, we still don't know what his goal is. He's barely paid us any attention, treating us as nothing more than tools to handle trivial matters."
Watching his partner wallow in defeatism, Jem Woz unconsciously smacked his lips, the bitter taste of alcohol lingering on his tongue. He, too, felt somewhat disheartened. "That's exactly why I'm uneasy. I don't know what he's scheming, but it's definitely nothing good. Once the truth comes to light, it might be a matter of life and death."
"Ah..."
Another stretch of silence followed. Feeling like their meeting was turning into a pity party, Jem Woz steadied his emotions, set down his wine glass, and regained his usual composure. He turned to Shar and said, "Actually, you came at the perfect time. Something big might happen here soon, and I could use your help."
Shar raised a puzzled brow. "What is it? Something that makes you feel understaffed?" He took another sip of red wine.
Meeting his gaze, Jem Woz gave an awkward smile. "Reliable intel suggests the Twisted Spirit Society is hiding in the royal capital..."
At the mention of the familiar cult—one he had recently been the leader of—Shar immediately understood the gravity of the situation. His expression turned serious as he silently set down his glass and swallowed the wine in his mouth.
"They're planning to secretly conduct a ritual to summon a Demon..."
"Pfft—!!"
The moment he heard this disastrous news, the red wine in Shar's mouth took a wrong turn and shot straight out of his nostrils!
Like an unstoppable nosebleed, the expensive fabric of his clothes was instantly stained.
"Cough, cough, cough..."
Watching the scene unfold, Jem Woz sighed and casually handed him a napkin to wipe his mouth.
"...That's the situation. I'm deeply troubled. I fear the Maddon Duchy might fall under my watch."
"Hiss—"
That was indeed a possibility—and not a small one at that.
Shar wanted to say those words out loud, but in the end, he only thought them silently, not actually voicing them to discourage Jem Woz.
Wiping his mouth and hands, Shar asked with some frustration, "If that's the case, don't you have even the slightest clue about their hiding spots?"
He had just assumed a new identity and didn't want to become a fugitive noble right away.
The implication was that he wanted to deal with the Twisted Spirit Society as soon as possible.
Jem spread his hands, looking helpless. "I wish I did. But even the news about the Twisted Spirit Society planning to conduct a Summoning Ritual in the royal capital was leaked to me by the Church. More specific details seem unclear even to them. So, it's possible that some influential figures in the capital are covering for the Twisted Spirit Society—and not just any ordinary nobles."
"Finding what those people have hidden is something even the royal family would struggle with."
"Because you can never fully grasp how many hideouts a noble family with centuries of heritage might have accumulated over time!"
"If we had enough time, it might be manageable. But if time runs short, by the time we finish searching one by one, the Demon would already be summoned. By then, it'd be too late. So, after offering some concessions, I secured the Church's promise of assistance."
Shar frowned slightly. "The Church? They're not exactly easy to work with. But when it comes to dealing with cults, they are the professionals..."
"No choice. However difficult they are, it's still better than a Demon's descent. Even if the Church overthrows the monarchy someday and hangs me, they'd at least spare my corpse intact out of respect for my royal status. With a Demon, I'd be reduced to ashes."
"That makes sense."
Shar found the logic sound and couldn't argue against it.
So he asked, "...In that case, how do you want me to help you?"
"Just help me locate their hiding spots. As for the fighting, you won't need to step in. On the soil of the royal capital, as long as we know their exact location, unless the Demon descends on the spot, no one can escape the royal purge."
Elsewhere, it might be uncertain, but within the capital, Jem Woz had the power to deal with any mortal—whether a spellcaster or a Grand Knight. And if things went south, the Church, having benefited from the arrangement, would surely lend a hand, wouldn't they?
Shar hesitated. "But I don't have the manpower. With just the few people I have now, how can I possibly search the entire capital for you? Wouldn't it be more practical to just seal off the city with the army and conduct a thorough sweep?"
To this, Jem Woz simply waved his hand and said earnestly:
"No! You're mistaken!"
"Even with ample manpower, we might not uncover anything at this critical moment. What I need now is something more specialized—and you happen to possess exactly that!"
Seeing his solemn expression, Shar was puzzled. "What? I have something like that?"
"Of course you do!"
"Shar, the Twisted Spirit Society, as a long-outlawed cult, has survived this long precisely because they excel at hiding and leaving no trace. For ordinary people, finding them through conventional means is unrealistic. But you're different!"
You are the renowned High Priest of the Ten Thousand Secrets Society, capable of evading the Church for over a decade while leaving only scattered traces behind.
This proves that in the field of "how to avoid detection as a cultist," you are undoubtedly an expert among experts—a top-tier figure qualified to publish authoritative works!
So now, we need you to leverage your professional expertise, apply the "science of cult concealment," and identify the most suitable hiding areas within the capital. Then, we'll search them one by one."
Seeing Jem Woz praise him with such admiration, Shar immediately wanted to deliver a speech of gratitude: "I, f—"
But then it occurred to him that the other man was, after all, his superior—a status he would need to rely on for future favors. Moreover, he truly was a professional in that field, an undisputed authority. So he forcibly swallowed his curses and calmly replied, "Fine. Bring me the most detailed map of the capital and all relevant construction reports later, and I'll point them all out for you."
His demeanor exuded the confidence of a grandmaster, utterly self-assured.
Though, having been so focused on clearing his name, he had nearly forgotten he even had this specialty...
To this, Jem Woz merely chuckled and nodded:
"Then I'll trouble you with it. I'll have my subordinates prepare the maps and materials."
——
Sitting in the carriage, Bishop Saffi had worn a grave expression ever since leaving the residence of Crown Prince Jem Woz of Maddon Duchy.
Harryga, a seasoned priest of the Church's Heretic Hunting Division, sensed something unusual.
After hesitating for a moment, he cautiously asked, "Your Excellency, is something amiss?"
Glancing at him, Saffi shook his head lightly and sighed:
"There certainly is, but I can't quite pinpoint what. Our Crown Prince Jem Woz is hiding something from us..."
Everyone in the carriage was a trusted aide he had brought from his diocese, so he saw no harm in speaking openly.
"Originally, I only intended to use the impending Demon crisis to sound out Jem Woz, to see if there was a chance to reinsert our Church's influence here. But Crown Prince Jem Woz was far too cooperative—it was almost as if he was handing us benefits on a platter.
I hadn't even finished explaining the Twisted Spirit Society's affairs or clarifying the stakes involved, yet he immediately agreed to our request to establish a Church diocese in the capital of Maddon Duchy.
This is truly unusual—utterly inconceivable for a greedy noble!
Remember, back then, the Maddon royal family spared no expense, even seeking aid from other principalities, just to expel our influence and consolidate their own power. Jem Woz has no reason to undo his ancestors' achievements..."
Harryga also found it strange, but as someone wholly devoted to the noble cause of hunting heretics, he knew little of politics. After some fruitless pondering, he ventured a guess: "Perhaps he's offended Yar Principality too deeply and wants to secure an ally?"
"Impossible," Safi flatly denied. "Given the relationship between royal families across nations and the Church, even if the Maddon Duchy sought to ally with other factions, the Church would never normally be their first choice. So he must be hiding something crucial from us. The establishment of this diocese is merely the bait he's offering—a lure so tempting that I'd bite despite knowing something's amiss."
Having said this, Safi turned to another clergyman beside him and instructed, "Later, send word to Alt. When he comes to the Maddon Duchy, have him bring the Heretic Hunting Division's finest talents and all the sacred relics. I want to see what tricks Jem Woz is trying to play on us. Since Jem Woz wants our help dealing with the Twisted Spirit Society, let's show him the accumulated might of the Church over millennia..."