The Protagonist's Party is Too Diligent

Chapter 225

Honestly, the Holy Nation's idea was clever—disturbingly so.

It was clear they thought of human lives the same way one might think of machine parts, but wasn’t that the nature of this world? Besides, in settings like this, religious zealots often turn out to be the most inhuman of all.

Of course, the religion of this world wasn’t so dominant as to rule the entire world, nor were they in any position to hold inquisitions in foreign countries when they were barely avoiding being judged themselves. Still, the signature fanaticism of “only the Goddess matters” subculture characters was too good a trope not to use.

But, as I must emphasize again, I had infinite opportunities.

As long as the Cardinal remained conscious and capable of speech, I had all the time I needed to get answers. Even if their magic involved an instant-death spell that the healing device couldn’t counter, it didn’t matter.

Cough!

I lost track of how many times I heard that sound.

I dragged the Cardinal around the room countless times, rewinding time again and again. I asked him questions to get verbal answers and had him point things out with his remaining hand. Fortunately, a few seconds before he died each time were enough to piece together his intentions.

"..."

By about the twelfth attempt, I stopped asking questions altogether.

The place the Cardinal pointed to before dying was the corner of the first-floor hall—a bookshelf tucked away in the shadows.

A bookshelf filled with various versions of their sacred texts.

Classic.

Was it one of those mechanisms where pulling or pushing a particular book would trigger a hidden door?

But it seemed the Holy Nation wasn’t entirely careless. No matter how many of the sacred texts I pulled off the shelf, no switch or secret door was revealed. The bookshelf didn’t swing open, nor did the floor beneath it give way to reveal a hidden passage.

I turned back to the Cardinal.

He was still alive—this time, I hadn’t asked him anything.

Since he consistently pointed to the bookshelf, there had to be a method hidden there. Perhaps it wasn’t a simple mechanism but something more complex, something too elaborate for him to explain while coughing up blood.

Hmm.

I glanced at the sacred text I had just removed, lost in thought.

Without asking anyone anything—at least that’s how it must have appeared to those watching—I examined the books on the shelf. The Cardinal and the knights seemed visibly flustered, unsure whether my actions constituted a "leak of information." At least no one started coughing up blood yet.

I had enough time to read through every sacred text on the shelf. Maybe the solution involved reading a specific passage aloud or rearranging the books in a particular order.

Or perhaps—

Suddenly, I thought of the Cardinal’s severed arm left on the second floor.

Ah.

While I had learned the basics of magic in this world, it was as intricate as the laws of physics.

At first glance, physics seems simple, with its absolute equations and laws. But delve into the microscopic world, and you’re met with quantum mechanics and other bizarre, incomprehensible phenomena. Magic was just as convoluted, far beyond simply chanting spells.

So, I had no idea why the "Cardinal’s severed right hand" was the key to activating the mechanism.

Did the Cardinal need to be alive to touch the sacred texts? Or was it simply a matter of his fingerprint or some other biometric being registered?

Whatever the case, it wasn’t my concern.

The people who created such mechanisms could worry about the details. As long as it worked for me, that was all that mattered.

“You overreached, and that was your downfall.”@@@@

“This... could it be?”

Alice murmured from over my shoulder, staring at the object.

“Wait a moment.”

I held out a hand, stopping the group about ten steps away.

That was... a Relic.

Not just any piece, but one that was partially complete. I didn’t know whether they’d gathered every artifact in the Holy Nation or if they’d been working tirelessly while I was distracted.

Even incomplete, the finished portion was enough to identify what it was.

A jagged corner of a shattered gear rested quietly atop a pedestal in the center of the hastily dug chamber.

Which meant—

Time flowed properly.

My powers weren’t sealed.

The masked woman wasn’t here, at least not yet.

The Relic didn’t interfere with my abilities.

Why?

If they’d gone to such lengths to hide it from the Emperor, I understood.

But wherever the Relic was, the masked woman always appeared.

“Sister? What’s wrong?”

Claire peeked over my shoulder, her voice light.

“...We need to be cautious,” I replied.

Slowly, I began approaching the Relic.

The closer we got, the brighter it shone.

As if it were welcoming us, as if it had been waiting for someone to arrive—

...No.

That wasn’t it.

The Relic wasn’t welcoming me.

It wasn’t intuition or some supernatural revelation.

The light emanating from the Relic wasn’t directed at me.

The glow split into beams, flowing toward Claire and Alice, who stood behind me.

And, unmistakably, the light directed at Claire was far stronger.

“...Ah.”

In that moment, I began to understand why, after Claire’s death in the game, the Emperor’s plans had crumbled.

Unbelievable.