Omniscient First-Person’s Viewpoint
Chapter 346: The King Who Kills Others, The God Who Kills Himself (2)

The Golden Lord had no artistic sensibilities.

That was something Hilde had figured out herself.

Upon closer inspection, it was clear that a few patterns repeated themselves throughout the city.

In contrast, the statue in the garden was incredibly elaborate.

From the wrinkles at the edge of its lips to the finely detailed beard and hair, and even the vivid expression on its face.

This was simply not the case of repeating patterns…

It was as if a living person had been turned to stone.

Hilde’s eyes sparkled as she nodded her head vigorously.

**｢As expected of Father! You do have an eye for art! Well, of course. Art belongs to humans. There’s no way the King of Humans wouldn’t recognize it!｣**

Well, part of it was because I read your thoughts.

But still, it’s a little scary.

While everyone else was thinking about negotiations, you were silently examining the statue like that.

What kind of person are you, anyway?

“…You lot. I can’t tolerate you any longer. I treated you with enough goodwill, but….”

Hector’s body trembled with rage.

Hot air violently spewed out of his pistons, heating up the air around him as the pressure converted into heat.

No, hold on. Most of what was said was from the Regressor and I just followed up at the end.

So why is he glaring at me like he’s ready to kill me?

Is this some kind of whistleblower rule?

Does the person who calls it out take all the blame?

Literal heat radiated from Hector’s body as he raised his hand.

Over a dozen pistons shot out of his body and pointed directly at me.

If he so willed, those pistons could be fired all at once and pummel me into a pulp.

“Are you trying to threaten me?! ME?!“

A taboo is a taboo.

No matter how short-lived the people of Fallen Dominion are, it’s not like they actually want to die tomorrow.

If word spread that Fallen Dominion’s food causes abnormalities and could even lead to one’s death, what would happen?

No one would want to buy food from the Dominarch.

Everyone would start struggling to survive by getting food from Claudia.

If it was just one or two people, it wouldn’t be a problem.

The rest of the demand could be met by special figures like the Primarchs.

But—

If everyone in the Fallen Dominion started to rely on Claudia’s food for survival, society would collapse and the economy would be ruined.

If the Fallen Dominion wanted to maintain even the semblance of order, this taboo had to be hidden at all costs.

Yet, now, an outsider—no, an enemy—had learned that secret.

**｢If it comes down to it, I’ll risk it all…! If I can’t do it with my own power, I’ll use the power of the Golden Palace if I must!｣**

With resolve in his heart, Hector declared his intention.

Truly a loyal subject.

“No, I’m just asking to be sure. If we were making wild guesses and made a mistake, it’d be a problem, wouldn’t it? If we wanted to blackmail you, we wouldn’t have thrown that idea in your face right away, don’t you think?”

“…”

He’s too much of a good person.

If he were a paranoid man with a terrible personality, he wouldn’t have even listened to me.

But Hector took my words seriously, reflecting on them before understanding that my question was born from pure curiosity.

**｢Are they afraid that they’ll turn into statues if they encounter the Golden Lord…? Kuh. If they’ve figured that much out, I suppose it’s only natural they’d be afraid. I can’t gloss over it, then.｣**

After silently staring at me for a moment, Hector let out a deep breath and retracted his pistons.

“…Resonating with the Golden Lord doesn’t turn you into gold or steel. The statue wasn’t made from a living human. You can rest assured.”

“Then what happens?”

“Don’t ask further. I absolutely cannot tell you, but I guarantee that you, as outsiders, will be safe.”

That’s all I needed.

If he’s willing to think that clearly, I can perfectly read his thoughts with my Mind Reading.

Hector didn’t know the exact details either.

The only one who fully understood the process of “resonance” was the Golden Lord himself.

But as someone who had served the Golden Lord for a long time, Hector understood the results, if not the process.

Humans who resonate with the Golden Lord are… “collected.”

So that they can be “summoned” whenever needed.

Nice.

I’ve picked up another clue.

My curiosity was satisfied, and I no longer felt any lingering attachment to the matter.

I nodded as if I were convinced.

“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. I just wanted to make sure I’m safe.”

“…Thank you for understanding.”

He said “Thank you,” but his face didn’t look thankful at all.

Well, I suppose that’s just political talk.

There was a bit of tension, but in the end, the Regressor accepted Hector’s proposal and agreed to the one-day delay.

Looking like a man who’d just been swindled, Hector remained seated, still visibly uncomfortable.

He called Peru aside, clearly intending to extract whatever information he could from her.

For someone this earnest and diligent, it’s a wonder he fits in so well with Fallen Dominion.

But I guess it’s because people like him exist that the Fallen Dominion can still be called a nation at all.

Walking out of the steel dome, the Regressor glanced back at the statue.

“So it’s not made from a living person? That’s even more surprising.”

“What? You noticed it too, Mr. Shei?”

“It was obvious. When you see a statue that’s overly realistic, you have to wonder if it’s a real person or not.”

That’s not “obvious.” Isn’t it normal to just think, “Wow, that’s well-made!”?

What kind of life have you lived?

“Still, you noticed too, huh?”

“I just picked up on the hints that the Dominarch dropped. The idea of a human ‘resonating’ with the Golden Lord… it’s a little unsettling, don’t you think? Honestly, I’m glad I didn’t eat any of Fallen Dominion’s food.”

“They did say it wouldn’t affect outsiders, but yeah.”

｢If I somehow didn’t die but resonated with the Golden Lord instead, would I be able to regress…? Ugh. I really don’t want to find out.****｣

Shaking her head, the Regressor began gathering her things.

“I’m going to try and track down where the Golden Lord is. If the Dominarch is telling the truth, he’s not far. Knowing his location will give us more options. Worst case, we’ll ditch the Dominarch and go find him ourselves.”

She’s blatantly declaring that she has no intention of keeping her promise.

Truly a Regressor.

Hilde, brimming with admiration, gave her a sarcastic compliment.

“Wow~! You’re not even planning to keep the promise you made just a moment ago! Incredible! I’m moved!”

“Shut up. What are you going to do for the rest of the day, then?”

“Me? I’m going to disguise myself and gather information!”

“That’s no different than what I’m doing!”

“Hey, you accepted the deal, not ‘me’! Besides, when I transform, I become a different person entirely!”

“You don’t become a different person. You’re still ‘you’.”

The Regressor’s careless words struck Hilde’s nerve.

Maybe it was a necessary message for a shapeshifter who’d long since lost her sense of self.

But sometimes, the weight of a message depends on the messenger.

Hilde erased the smile from her lips and spoke quietly.

“You don’t even have the right to say that. You can’t even recognize ‘me.’”

“Yes, I can. I’ve recognized you before, haven’t I?”

“With those eyes of yours? Pfft. Anyone can identify someone if they start from a position of doubt, but when you wanted to be sure, you had to rely on the Power of Light, didn’t you? Pathetic. Worse still, you don’t even realize how pathetic you are. The only one who’s ever seen through ‘me’ from the start is Father and only him.”

Well. I also used Mind Reading, which is pretty similar to a cheat.

It’s a little embarrassing to hear her give me that much credit.

But at least I know I’m being unfair, so that should be fine.

“Why are you suddenly acting like this?”

“It’s because you’re looking down on ‘my’ transformation skills. It hurts my pride. Anyway, ‘I’ have to get ready for an infiltration now, so see you later~”

Hilde waved her hand dismissively and disappeared into a secluded alley.

The Regressor watched her retreating figure with a look of disbelief.

“What’s with her?”

“Not sure, but it seems you somehow got on Hilde’s bad side.”

“So it’s my fault?”

Not really. Probably just a personality clash.

We’d agreed to split up to gather information, but honestly, I have no intention of running around on foot.

I’m terrible at that kind of physical labor, after all.

The Golden Lord.

Is he trying to become a king? Or is he aiming to be a god?

I can’t figure it out.

His actions lack any consistency.

Producing food and building cities make it seem like he wants to help people survive, but in the end, the only thing all those people are good for is “collection.”

A king survives off the blood and sweat of others.

A god divides itself to grant fragments of its power to others.

But the Golden Lord’s behavior lies somewhere between the two.

He spreads his power to provide others with places to live, but the fate of his subjects is “collection.”

His people ultimately become part of him.

If they live, they are “collected.”

If they die, they are “dismantled.”

But… what’s the point of collecting humans?

Is that why he insists on being called the “Golden Lord”?

Because he’s neither a king nor a god?

“I really have to meet him myself.”

Muttering to myself, I retraced my steps to the path I had come from.

That’s when it happened.

I heard a commotion from up ahead.

When I looked up, I saw a wagon tangled up on a slightly sloped road.

Several men, presumably the owners, were yelling at each other with veins bulging on their necks.

“Who’s the idiot that drove a wagon into the city?!”

“They slammed on the brakes out of nowhere!”

“So what if I stopped for a second?! How does that make it my fault that you crashed into a wall?!”

A traffic accident, huh.

Happens all the time.

This city is home to alchemists under the Dominarch as well as Dholes lurking near the cornfields.

Thanks to the Dominarch’s influence, public order is mostly maintained, but it’s only natural for issues to arise when a bunch of unruly Dholes gather in one place.

Well, there is nothing I can do about it.

I’ll just take a detour.

I don’t know the city’s layout perfectly, but as long as I have a sense of direction, I’ll eventually reach my destination.

What?

People with a bad sense of direction?

I refuse to acknowledge such mythical creatures as humans.

As humans, the only thing that makes us unique is our intelligence.

If the only thing you can rely on is intelligence, then being bad with directions is beyond disgraceful.

Those people are disqualified from being human.

I slipped into a side alley and headed for the next street.

“Huh? No path here?”

…Weird.

According to my calculations, there should be a path here.

Do I need to go a bit further?

Let’s check the next alley.

Ah, there it is.

If I go a bit further, I’ll reach the next street.

Just as I was about to enter the alley, I stopped in my tracks after picking up on someone’s thoughts.

**｢The moment he comes by, I stab him. Just one stab to score big. That’s all I need!｣**

What kind of back-alley thug is this?

This guy has clear killing intent and he’s holding a dagger.

People like that don’t hesitate.

They’ll stab you the moment you approach them.

Time to retreat.

I’ll naturally veer to the right from here.

I haven’t gotten lost yet.

I still know where the sun is and can clearly tell which way is north, south, east, and west.

In the worst-case scenario, I’ll just climb a roof and run across it.

After all, I’m not bad with directions.

But that’s what made it so strange.

I hadn’t intended it and I wasn’t even thinking about it.

I was just making on-the-spot decisions, yet somehow, I felt like I was getting funneled into specific paths.

The route was correct, sure, but the path I had to take involved some narrow alley where something sketchy could jump out at any moment.

It’s eerie.

How do I explain it?

I would never willingly walk into such an alley.

None of my choices were deliberate.

It feels like I’m a marionette being pulled along by the strings of a chess master who’s ten moves ahead of me.

But that shouldn’t be possible.

I’m a Mind Reader.

I’m the swindler of psychological warfare, capable of reading the thoughts of anyone who plots 10 moves ahead and using it against them.

Yet, I had read nothing with my Mind Reading.

The Dholes that blocked my way, the aspiring street thug, even the blocked path—none of them had any intention of trapping me.

If someone had set this up, I would have sensed it in advance.

Even if it was a prearranged trap, how would they have known I’d be here, at this time, on this street, taking this specific route?

No, I only ended up on this path by pure chance.

“I warn you, Savage.”

…No, there’s one more possibility.

Fate.

The concept of “fate” as preached by the Sanctum.

A woman in a deeply drawn hood stood at the end of the narrow alley, blocking the path.

The only visible parts of her body were her sharp, slender lips, ash-gray hair, and the rough hand that peeked out from her sleeve, clenching into a firm fist.

Of course. I figured as much.

I had already read her thoughts, but since I’d come this far, it was impossible to turn back.

From the moment I changed direction at that first street, this encounter had already been “predestined.”

All according to the will of the Sanctum’s Saintess.

Just as fate had dictated, she stood in this spot, just as fate had dictated, she glared at me, just as fate had dictated. She held hostility, but no intent to attack.

And just as fate had dictated, she had come here for one reason: to deliver a warning.

“If you truly seek to end the war, I will stand by and observe. You will even receive a blessing along your path, but if you pursue chaos once more… If you attempt to reduce humanity to mere beasts running wild—“

The Saintess of Steel, Feruel.

One of the Saintesses at the top of the Sanctum.

The only Saintess possessing pure physical might.

The Saintess of Steel raised her firmly clenched fist and pointed it at me.

Her holy gauntlet wasn’t there to protect her fist.

It was there to protect those on the receiving end of it.

But despite such tearful compassion, there wasn’t a single person who had survived it.

For everything her fist touched… was obliterated.

“I accept the will of the Saintess of Origin, who blessed the faithful and cursed the savages.”

I admit I was reckless for coming alone, but even if I’d come with someone else, it wouldn’t have made much difference.

You can’t stop the Saintess of Steel.

I mean it.

She can’t be stopped.

Feruel raised her finger and pointed it at me as if to deliver judgment.

“With this fist, I will personally deliver divine punishment unto ‘you’!”

Not me, Hughes…

But the Human King.