Chapter 41: All According to Plan… Right?
Today's Ragunna was different from usual. The morning that should have officially marked the beginning of a new day was instead overshadowed by another spectacle that captured everyone's attention.
Namely, Aeron in priestly robes being escorted to the pilgrimage ship.
The crowd was kept at a distance by barriers set up by the Order. The procession moved slowly, clearly indicating Fenrico's intention to use Aeron as a warning to all dissenters before Carnevale.
Though shackled, Aeron carried himself with none of a prisoner's demeanor, his ears perked to catch the surrounding whispers.
"Look, it's that disgraced priest..."
"I heard he conspired with heretics and betrayed the Sentinels!"
"They say he's been seeing different women every day lately—utterly depraved!"
To be fair, the first two accusations were whatever, but what in the world was that last one?
Aeron's gaze swept across the crowd, searching for familiar faces.
Good. No redhead, no Blessed Maiden, no lackeys, no simpletons.
Seeing this, only one thought occupied his mind:
'Not yet... mustn't laugh... gotta hold it in!'
Once he reached his destination, nothing would stand in his way!
After tremendous effort, Aeron had finally secured this window of opportunity.
Every Ragunnan knew what pilgrimage meant—setting out essentially meant your fate was sealed.
But for Aeron, it was different.
The pilgrimage route was fraught with peril: treacherous sailing conditions, inadequate supplies, and if you didn't capsize midway, welcoming phantoms would greet you with bared teeth upon landing.
If you were particularly fortunate, the Dragon of Dirge guarding Penitent's End might even provide complimentary high-temperature roasting services—perfect for those tired of living.
This was precisely Aeron's objective.
Reaching Penitent's End meant finding his personal level-grinding paradise—victory number one.
Intentionally leaking his whereabouts and forging letters to elevate Phoebe's status within the Order, ensuring her safety—victory number two.
A priest sent on pilgrimage would plant seeds of doubt in Ragunnans' hearts—victory number three.
With three victories already secured, that made four by default.
This move? He was playing at stratospheric levels, having lost count of his wins.
Since dealing with Capollo, Aeron's approach had been simple: eliminate Fenrico.
But simply removing Fenrico would throw Ragunna into chaos, allowing Leviathan to target Rinascita.
Considering himself reasonably responsible, how could Aeron sacrifice all of Rinascita just to eliminate Fenrico? That would be like one person skipping exercises making the entire class run ten extra minutes.
Thus, he decided on an indirect approach—help Fenrico complete his duties before sending him off.
Thinking this, Aeron couldn't help but sigh at his own overwhelming sense of responsibility.
And so, the upcoming Carnevale in Ragunna would become the centerpiece of his plan.
At that time, he would stage a performance unprecedented in history and never to be repeated—for the Order of the Deep, for Montelli, for Fisalia, and for all of Ragunna—to expose the true face of the Order and make the people of Ragunna understand that from now on, they would no longer rely on the faith of the Sentinels. Instead, they would live on in Rinascita through their own strength and the bonds between people.
Since the Threnodians and the Sentinels shared the same faith, then to hell with both of them!
Of course, some might ask how Aeron could possibly accomplish such a thing alone.
True, Aeron was just an ordinary person with a quick mind—how could he achieve something like this?
Besides, he never said he would do it himself.
As it happened, the person who would help him do it had already arrived.
"..."
The escort team guarding Aeron came to a halt. They stared at the figure blocking their path, all assuming defensive stances.
The escort priests clearly recognized this "special guest," and the atmosphere instantly grew tense. They exchanged uneasy glances, gripping their weapons tighter, yet none dared to step forward and drive the person away—this was a distinguished guest of Jinzhou, someone with a delicate relationship to the Order. This was not a situation they could handle on their own.
"...This man is a serious criminal, personally ordered by the Primus to be escorted. Please do not make this difficult for us," the guard captain forced himself to step forward, his hand resting on the weapon at his waist.
"I have questions for him," Rover repeated, her gaze bypassing the guards and locking firmly on Aeron's face. "It won't take long... Or are you afraid of what I might ask?"
Rover took a step forward. The escort guards instinctively stepped back, tightening their grips on their weapons, yet none dared to actually block her way.
"I need an explanation."
"An explanation for what?"
"You know what I'm asking."
"Impure faith, colluding with heretics... Isn't it all written there?"
"You know I don't believe any of that," Rover shook her head, her sharp eyes still fixed on Aeron.
"...I just want to live. It's that simple."
"...?"
Rover was somewhat confused by Aeron's words. Why did what this person said not match his actions at all?
"Just look around, and you'll understand."
Aeron glanced to the side. Following his gaze, Rover saw the common people of Ragunna.
"The Order says I'm a sinner, and they watch. The Order says I'm to be exiled, and they make way. Not because they believe, but often because they're used to it, or because they don't know who else to trust or follow besides the Order."
"So you just accept it?"
"I could refuse, but there's no need."
As soon as he finished speaking, the shadow beneath Aeron stretched, and from it emerged a horned, maniacally laughing demon—Aeron's Persona Mask, "Arsène."
Arsène's wild laughter tore through the tense air around them. The onlookers erupted in terrified screams. The guards, treating it as a grave threat, drew their weapons and charged at Aeron.
"!"
Just as they were about to clash with Arsène, Rover immediately stepped between them.
"See?" Aeron's voice rang out clearly amid the chaos. He remained standing in place, his eyes fixed only on Rover. "This is what 'refusing' looks like. And then what?"
"They fear me now, but tomorrow and the day after, what they'll fear will still be the things that make them too terrified to even glance or speak."
Arsène let out a low growl in response, intimidating the restless guards. Aeron seized the moment to step forward, approaching Rover and lowering his voice.
"Rover, the affairs of Rinascita are far from simple. What you should know isn't what I intend to do—go ask them what they plan to do, what they ought to do."
Before the words had fully faded, Aeron flicked his wrist, and Arsène's sharp claws slashed through the shackles binding him.
Shaking his wrist lightly, Aeron began to proclaim under the stunned gazes of the crowd:
"Everyone, engrave in your minds the figure before you who is willing to protect you all!"
"The teachings of the Sentinels have not manifested before your eyes, the chains of the Order cannot even bind the guilty—"
"But now you all see who stands between you and chaos!"
Under Aeron's declaration, all eyes—fearful, bewildered, furious—ultimately settled on the gray-haired figure blocking the path between the demons and the guards.
Rover stood rigid. She understood what Aeron was doing.
"Is this what you wanted?"
"...See you at Carnevale, Rover."
With that, Aeron recalled Arsène and turned alone toward the Pilgrim's Sail, his heart swelling with satisfaction. He'd been wanting to put on a show like this for a long time!
As the ship set sail, Aeron left Ragunna—and Rover—behind, a sly grin spreading across his face.
Plan accomplished!
...
Unfortunately, after disembarking, Aeron realized the actual situation seemed to deviate slightly from his plan.
He was certain he'd boarded the Pilgrim's Sail's ship, but the destination was completely unexpected.
"...Where the hell is this?"
Staring at the massive Porto-Veno Castle before him, Aeron couldn't help but voice his confusion.
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