"Cronin, how do you feel? How do you feel now?"
Cape leaned in close to the dazed Cronin, a mocking smile spread across his face.
Yes, this is exactly what I wanted to see… that expression of your plan falling apart.
Cronin's eyes rolled upward and he fainted.
In just a single day, he had gone through too many highs and lows.
"He passed out? How boring. I even paid a hefty sum in Victoria to bring in four masters, just so they could give you a proper 'training' session."
Cape clapped his hands. Four muscular Feline men with well-defined abs entered through the door.
"Each one of them is a specialist, and the 'secret weapons' they carry can bring you both psychological and physical… surprises."
Cape considered waking Cronin up.
After all, leaving him unconscious would be too merciful.
But Herman could no longer stay silent.
He blocked one of the Feline "masters" who was holding a basin of water, ready to splash Cronin awake.
"…Herman, are you sure you want to protect him?"
Cape spoke with playful curiosity.
"He nearly destroyed everything you have. He almost wiped out this city that holds your memories of your late wife, burying it under molten lava."
"…"
Herman said nothing.
But he still stood firmly in front of the unconscious Cronin.
"I will bring him to court. He will face judgment."
"Oh? Feeling soft now?"
"…After all, I'm the one who raised him into what he is."
"Haha, Herman, you really love to joke. Wasn't Cronin someone you deliberately groomed as bait to gather those private obsidian-mining profiteers?"
"…"
"How interesting. I can let him go… but you don't expect to pay nothing, do you?"
"…The Siesta volcano has reached the point where it should be developed."
"…"
Cape narrowed his eyes.
After a moment of thought, he waved his hand, signaling the four "masters" surrounding Herman to stand down.
"…I agree."
In Cape's mind, the Black Snake slowly writhed.
Another act I can predict but never understand.
You people really are fascinating.
———
Inside a Rhodes Island room, a blonde Kuranta woman and a black-robed Sarkaz woman sat facing each other.
"What's wrong, Nearl…? I've already told you everything I know about Satan. So now, shouldn't you tell me what you know about the Laughing Knight?"
Silence pressed between them as Shining urged her softly.
Nearl had been quiet for far too long.
"Sorry, Shining… but I need some time to sort out my thoughts."
Nearl sounded troubled. She covered her face with both hands and let out a long sigh.
"Do you feel that he and that knight are too disconnected from each other?"
Shining asked softly.
But the corner of her eye never left the girl sleeping on the bed.
Their conversation was not something Nightingale should overhear.
"A little… Arthur was actually a very well-liked independent knight in Kazimierz."
Nearl spoke in a low voice.
"Infected people were fond of him because he was the only one who dared to embrace his defeated opponent, an infected knight, right there in the grand arena."
"The audience liked him too. Every match Arthur participated in was dazzling… perhaps he should have been a magician rather than a knight."
"Even the big bosses of the Commercial Association admired this champion who answered to no capital. Every product he endorsed saw a big rise in sales, and he never turned down a sponsorship."
"When I fought him back then, I barely won and took the championship… but I have to admit he underestimated me. That played a huge part."
Hearing this, a different thought rose in Shining's mind.
"Even if he was careless, there was no way the you from back then could have handled him."
It was true. Even if that long-lived one had been overconfident, he was still far beyond what the inexperienced Nearl of that time could have faced.
Perhaps Arthur's physical strength had been slightly lower than Nearl's, but his combat instinct was leagues beyond that of a young girl, knight lineage or not.
"Yes… looking back, it feels like everything back then was just one big joke played by the Laughing Knight."
Nearl tapped the table irritably.
Then she abruptly realized Nightingale was sleeping. Under Shining's reproachful gaze, she awkwardly withdrew her hand.
"The Commercial Association pulled all of Arthur's advertisements. The audience, though, didn't react much. They just want joy from the tournaments."
Nearl spoke with a hint of confusion.
In truth, Kazimierz had hosted foreign knights before.
But never a knight from Ursus.
Kazimierz and Ursus had held grudges for many years.
"And the Laughing Knight's true identity was an Ursus duke. To the audience, that was no big deal. If anything, they liked the dramatic twist."
Nearl clenched her fist again.
But soon she relaxed it.
She knew well how powerful that Ursus duke was. Terrifying, in a way she could never hope to challenge.
Shining looked at the disheartened Nearl and remained silent for a while.
She now understood another side of Satan… or rather, another side of the Ursus duke.
And it was likely still just a fraction of the truth.
As a Confessarius, Shining knew many secrets of the land.
The difference between those two personas… it's too large.
Could it be that this Eternal Duke is like Sui of Yan, a title held by many bodies at once?
After seeing Nearl off, Shining sat beside Nightingale's bed and watched her quietly.
"When did you wake up, Nightingale?"
"Uh…"
Nightingale opened her eyes carefully, sounding a bit guilty.
"Just now."
Shining continued staring at her.
Very quickly, Nightingale surrendered.
"Alright… I actually woke up when Nearl knocked on the table."
Nightingale looked at Shining with curiosity.
"Does that duke named Kashchey really have so many identities? He's Satan, and he's also that knight called Arthur…"
"Satan is not Kashchey, Nightingale. Satan is simply Satan."
Shining held Nightingale's hand.
"At least… that's what I want to believe."
After leaving Kazdel, Shining had deliberately gathered all the information she could on the Ursus duke, especially the identities he had revealed before… the figures modeled after dolls.
But the more she learned, the more frightened she became.
If all those people with distinct personalities and unique traits were merely masks worn by that long-lived being, just fragments of an iceberg…
Then what did the true self look like?
And did Satan truly exist?