Capítulo 60: Plans and Ploys

Jonam grabbed his wine cup from Pelopia's side of the table, sipping what was left.

"When did you get afflicted by the Pale Malady?" He finally asked.

"A few weeks ago... I think. That's when I first noticed the feathers."

Jonam's brows furrowed, and his expression turned grave. "Don't lie to me. If you had the Pale Malady for a few weeks, half your body would have been buried under pale-white feathers by now."

"I'm not!" She bellowed. "I don't know why, but they only grow in small clusters once or twice a month. It must be Her Divine Majesty's blessing. I've been praying to her altar daily ever since I realized I was sick."

She doesn't seem to be lying... but how? Jonam's thoughts raced, and a glint of azure light tainted his bluish eyes.

He scrutinized her whole body from the head down with perception magecraft, searching for the slightest anomaly. The red spots appeared as they should under his gaze, and he couldn't find any remnant of hypnosis. Still, near the lower end of her abdomen, a spherical object pulsated with dense Mana.

It can't be... He pinched the bridge of his nose, then asked, "What's your name?"

"I've already told you, didn't I?! It's Pelopia!"

Once she answered, he locked eyes with her and added, "All right, spell your name for me."

"Are you stupid, boy?" She started to lose patience, and her movements became erratic—from random twitches of her brows to atypical gestures that contrasted with her earlier grace.

"It's E-u-c-a-r-p-i-a!"

I knew it. Jonam sighed, slumping back in his seat. She's like Asteri—a mortal soul grafted to a Dead Spirit within its own corpse.

Disconnected responses and behaviors were key to spotting such chimeras, as it was nearly impossible to distinguish them from regular humans unless the spell shackling them was active. The most efficient way lay in asking the same question from various angles, leading the clashing consciousnesses to diverge and answer differently.

In truth, it would have been enough to arrive at that conclusion the moment he noticed the stone-shaped Mana bundle in her abdomen. However, since the Henosis Seekers were quickly advancing in their research, it was necessary to ensure that it wasn't another one of their undocumented experiments.

Still, this one is oddly different. She's much more stable and hasn't lost control even when her fragmented mind surfaced. The Pale Malady is also sprouting outside her flesh, contrasting with Asteri, who only grew the feathers from the inside.

Moreover, maintaining her state for multiple weeks shouldn't be possible when Asteri kept collapsing after mere days.

A tug throbbed in Jonam's gut, followed by an ominous feeling. "Do you remember who might've afflicted you with the Pale Malady? Maybe a strange-looking customer?"

Pelopia appeared puzzled by his question. She glanced up, trying to remember. "I don't recall much. I was paid to attend this symposium in a huge mansion, but it's all blurry. I noticed the first feathers growing out of my skin shortly after."

Hazy memories? She doesn't have remnants of hypnosis magecraft, but I still feel it's too convenient.

He pondered about the possibilities, then widened his eyes when he thought of a particular one.

Araqiel, the Fall of Cognizance! It's the same as Bianor. We didn't realize he was bewitched until he betrayed us in Juktas, even with perception magecraft. They're using the Archangel's power to complete the half-Dead Spirits into functional beings.

This makes sense. Asteri was too unstable and fled from their grasp before they could stabilize her with the help of Araqiel. Pelopia, on the other hand, is a finalized product. But this leads me to a question we've been avoiding from the start—why?

Obliterating the zealots trumps everything else, and we didn't care much about their plans until now. We kept recklessly hunting them down for a long time, no matter the ensuing losses. What if they picked up on that?

What if they managed to learn and adapt their moves to our relentlessness? This would explain why their behavioral patterns are so different in Priene.

Jonam stared blankly at his reflection on the stagnant, yellow surface of his wine. Pelopia sat silently on the other side, unsure of what to do.

This has been nagging me for a while, but aside from the explosion in the transitional base, why haven't there been any incidents regarding the half-Dead Spirits?

According to our initial theory, the Henosis Seekers' reason for creating them was to spread the Pale Malady throughout Priene and get ahold of the generated white stones, which are highly condensed plagues the size of a pebble.

Yet none of this happened. What should've been a ritualistic massacre spanning the entire Divine Capital turned into a one-time, pointless show of light. Are they waiting for something? Or do they plan to use their twisted products for a much more obscure purpose?

"Erhm..." Pelopia tapped the table with her finger, growing anxious from Jonam's silence. "Do you still have questions to ask of me?"

"Wait." He blurted out, primarily to himself, though Pelopia took it as a cue to remain quiet.

Until now, we've considered the Goddess of Secrets' involvement as fair for both sides and that explosive pillar of plague-bearing light as a sanction imposed on the Henosis Seekers for the help they received from her. We assumed they had unwillingly borne the punishment, but what if they used it to their advantage?

While earning the ire of the Temple of Stars within Hierapetra is dangerous, they successfully spread the Pale Malady far and wide throughout the Divine Capital—to the point where the Luminous House couldn't ignore it anymore.

Furthermore, their half-Dead Spirits could, hypothetically, be scattered everywhere. They could disseminate the plague even more at a moment's notice, thus increasing the casualties exponentially.

Chaotic massacre is second nature to the Henosis Seekers, yet I can't shake the feeling that this is too elaborate to be a mere unfocused slaughter.

The presence of Archangels in Priene suggests they possess a fragment of the Apocryphon of Ataxia, as smuggling two Nightmare-class Eidolons inside would be infinitely more difficult than simply summoning them once within.

This means that they could possibly summon another one... As his thoughts raced, Jonam found his heartbeat increasing. Empyrean Eidolons require the forsaking of one's sanity for their invocations. The half-Dead Spirits, which are sets of tortured souls constantly grinding each other's minds, could very well serve as suitable sacrifices.

If their goal is to completely wipe out the Divine Capital, they would require an Empyrean Eidolon stronger than an Archangel.

Such malevolent beings, spawn of the Primordial Seraphim, are fickle and prideful. They would demand payment—and what better offerings than the thousands of humans on the brink of death due to the Pale Malady?

Jonam abruptly rose from his seat, startling Pelopia.

Since Quinctillia is tied to the Veiled Matriarch, neither the Goddess of Secrets nor the Henosis Seekers could have known about her involvement. They are unaware of our pact to only attack on the 15th of December.

Thus, their plans up to this point have been carried out with the assumption that the Mekkubal Order would strike them the moment we discovered their hideouts.

The Henosis Seekers know about the clues the Goddess of Secrets left in the Automatons' melody. And they wouldn't dare to assume that deciphering them could take us more than a day.

Meaning they were prepared for us to begin the assault on the 12th. But we haven't attacked. Despite that, there has been no movement from them. Everything they set up should be ready, yet they're still waiting...

Chills ran down Jonam's spine as realization dawned upon him, and he immediately swept over the brothel with his perception magecraft, searching for Nave.

This is bad. We've been naively dancing on the palm of their hands this whole time!

Sweat slid down his temples, and he found himself panicking.

Us attacking them is a necessary piece for their plans. There's no other explanation. We're heading straight toward a meticulously prepared trap, and none of us have realized it still. I need to warn everyone.

Jonam found Nave being sheepishly led inside a private room by a few prostitutes and promptly raced through the crowd toward him.

He stumbled awkwardly on the marble floor, unused to his new, frailer body. The chamber's door had been locked from within, but he forced it open anyway, breaking the handle with an enhanced fist.

The moment it swung out of his way, a pale hand reached out from the darkened interior. It stopped inches before his face, sporting a pair of hollowed eyes and a mouth on its palm.

A strange force invaded his mind and stifled his wits, freezing him in place.

"I've been caug—" were his last thoughts before his consciousness was crushed, plunging him into complete oblivion.

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