Chapter 80

The expression on Ortes’s face as he entered the conference room appeared much more relaxed than before.

That was how it seemed to Carisia, at least. Others lacked the experience to discern such subtle changes in his demeanor.

Standing once again behind Carisia, Ortes leaned forward and whispered.

“I’ve found a way. Argos is planning to actively interfere with Blasphemia’s operations.”

Carisia maintained her impassive expression, though this did not mean she wasn’t surprised.

It was simply that Ortes often left for a while only to return with outlandish news; this was nothing new.

“Explain.”

Nodding, Ortes stepped forward. He manipulated a terminal, feeding data into the holographic projector located in the center of the conference room.

A map materialized in mid-air. Arabel recalled the region depicted—it was an unremarkable plain where a few artifacts from ancient times had been unearthed, but none of significant magical or divine value. Just pottery and sculptures offering glimpses into daily life from that era, nothing capable of stirring academic or auction house circles.

“We have collaborators within Argos.”

What was he talking about?

The board members were taken aback by Ortes’s statement. Up until now, the meeting had focused on the increased difficulty of conducting sacred investigations due to Argos’s interference.

If there were informants embedded within Argos, the very premise of the meeting was overturned.

“Until now, we weren’t sure how far our collaborators could assist us. Thus, we hadn’t considered it a viable strategy. However, I just received word.”

Ortes continued calmly: their collaborators within Argos had successfully swayed public opinion inside the organization, and serious conflict between Argos and Blasphemia was imminent.

“The area you see on the screen is part of that ‘conflict.’ As you can see, it’s a barren zone, but Argos will strongly insist that Blasphemia inspect it.”

Though seemingly empty, the plain was vast. Even if Blasphemia deployed all available personnel, it would take at least ten days to complete the inspection.

Arabel understood the situation. Despite the lack of notable finds, requesting Blasphemia to examine the site under the pretense of uncovering items related to Argeyirion or the Magic Tower would be hard for them to refuse.

‘Argos must claim they discovered excavation plans in some ancient records or something. Blasphemia won’t dare turn it down.’

Both Argos and Blasphemia knew no valuable artifacts would be found there. It was merely a tactic to waste Blasphemia’s resources.

“Take advantage of this delay to conduct as many sacred investigations as possible. We’ll update Argos’s deployment information whenever we can, though I won’t be accompanying you this time.”

Since Demedes’s death, Ortes had always accompanied the board members on their missions. Was this policy now being reversed?

‘Do they trust the board’s abilities enough?’

Arabel shook her head. The board’s sacred investigations were conducted under strictly controlled conditions, and their ability to handle unexpected situations remained untested.

It wasn’t that the board had decided to change course; rather, Ortes must have a compelling reason to leave.

“I need to meet with the ‘collaborators.’”

In the months since Hydra Corp’s founding, the board members had come to appreciate the capabilities of the two people who unified Etna City: Ortes and Carisia.

While individually formidable, they had limitations socially. That’s why instead of merely overthrowing the board, they incorporated its members into the company structure.

What individuals can do differs from what groups can achieve. Division of labor improves efficiency.

Yet Ortes had demonstrated abilities far beyond what any single person should possess.

When?

How could Ortes find time to recruit insiders within Argos while supervising sacred investigations and going on every field trip?

‘Is it even physically possible?’

It was unrealistic. No one could stretch a day to 48 hours.

Handling spies required more than just computational work; direct meetings to assess character and ability were essential.

As head of the Information Guild in Etna City, Arabel understood this better than anyone.

A subtle clue about Ortes’s identity resurfaced.

‘If a secret inspector is interfering with Blasphemia’s activities, there can only be one reason: Blasphemia itself is severely compromised.’

Could Ortes’s collaborators be other inspectors monitoring Blasphemia? Arabel glanced at Divius, who was once responsible for physical modifications within Blasphemia.

I’ll have to arrange a meeting with him soon. Without knowing exactly who we’re serving, it’s terrifying.

Using the board meeting as an excuse, I might delegate a few tasks…

Besides, the workload was becoming unbearable.

Arabel prepared to escape the impending responsibilities.

***

Before leaving, I called Arabel to give her some instructions.

With me stepping away from overseeing sacred investigations, who would coordinate infiltration routes and manage troop deployments?

Flexible thinking and quick adaptability, combined with the ability to monitor multiple locations via drones, made Arabel the perfect candidate.

After a brief handover, I moved to rendezvous with Demos.

I didn’t know exactly what the Theistic Order meant by “Grand Temple,” but if it was important enough for Argos to deploy top agents to reclaim it, surely it held secrets worth uncovering.

“There you are.”

Demos nodded at me. Several unfamiliar figures stood around him.

“Ho. New faces, I see.”

The half-closed-eyed man, who referred to himself as “no one” (Utes), scanned the priests with an eerie gaze.

Those targeted felt like Utes wasn’t just observing them but piercing through them, dismantling every hidden secret.

This sensation was similar to encounters with the former Bishop of Phobos Proopsios, whose prophets’ eyes carried something that stirred the soul.

“You don’t seem to be part of the gathering, so perhaps you’re Demos’s brothers?”

Not asking about blood relations but rather shared faith—did they worship the same deity?

The priest of Enyalius flinched. On reflection, it was a simple deduction. Priests accompanying Demos likely worshipped the same god, Enyalius.

But truths spoken by seers always weighed heavily.

Especially when Utes, introduced by Demos as “the best prophet I’ve ever known,” said it.

“Yeah. But watch your words.”

Demos pointed upward. They were in a bustling district ruled by a mid-tier Magic Tower. While pedestrian noise drowned out their voices, the ever-watchful magical drones scattered by the towers were constant concerns.

“Haha. Rest assured. I’m watching everything.”

Utes’s smile, dismissing such worries, felt less reassuring and more unsettling.

Even if divination worked differently for others, constantly peering into the future within a mage stronghold was astonishing.

“So, Demos, where are we headed?”

Demos glanced around. His heightened senses detected no drones, familiars, or other servants of mages nearby.

Trusting both his instincts and the prophet’s calm assurance, he spoke.

“At the end of the mythic age, the last pantheon temple to resist the Wizard King.”

“A deity whose authority could unite various sects. Is it the shrine of Aegio?”

Such dangerous talk—if overheard by mages, they’d label them superstitious followers and arrest them instantly. The priests of Enyalius paled.

“…Aegio and the strongest twelve sects also feared the Wizard King, so they attacked and defeated him first. The final resistance took place at the Grand Temple of Pluto.”

Huh. Ortes murmured softly. So, we’re going to Pluto’s Temple.

“Indeed. Though not among the twelve major deities, Pluto holds equal stature and could serve as the rallying point for resistance. What of the other priests you saw at the gathering?”

“They’re all heading in different directions, leading their own groups. We’ll enter at midnight.”

Ortes nodded. Deploying so many priests clearly showed the Theistic Order placed great hopes on liberating this grand temple.

“No matter how much Argos ties up Blasphemia, we can’t conceal the divine power unleashed upon freeing the temple. We must unseal everything and recover the relics within an hour.”

“I’ll ensure the share for the Bacchus Cult.”

Ortes calmly declared his disinterest in the relics of Phobos, stating that the Phobos Cult would handle their own artifacts. As protector of the last priestess of Bacchus, he intended to secure only her rightful portion.

Demos shook his head.

“Relics from countless minor sects may also be there. Forget distribution for now; we need to recover everything visible.”

Ortes nodded approvingly.

He could already imagine how many relics they might siphon off.