Morin saw the news in The Dresdner Journal during a rare afternoon return to the Falkenstein Manor, where he was enjoying a moment of quiet on the study sofa.
The front-page headline, printed in starkly large letters, featured the latest official statement released by the Holy Britannian Empire.
When he saw the line, "Spell Scroll Confirmed to Originate from High-Level Mage Corps, But Already Used in the Battle of Seville," he froze.
Seville?
That place name instantly brought back memories of the brutal street fighting, almost causing him to drop the newspaper.
So, this dirt being thrown at Britannia, its source was right where I was?
His initial reaction was almost identical to that of the Archmages of the Britannian High-Level Mage Corps.
Did someone on the Saxon side secretly pick up that used scroll on the battlefield in Seville and then orchestrate this shocking assassination?
The moment this thought surfaced, a chill ran down Morin's spine.
If this were true, hadn't he unwittingly become a pawn in this massive conspiracy?
But the thought lingered for only a moment before he dismissed it himself.
It wasn't logical.
The Saxon Empire had no reason whatsoever to drag the powerful Britannians into the fray at this time.
Morin leaned back against the soft sofa, staring up at the ornate crystal chandelier on the ceiling, deep in thought.
Did Emperor Albert II of Saxony truly lose his mind, intending to launch a war against both the Gallic Republic and Britannia simultaneously?
Morin believed that the high command of the Saxon Empire was not composed of impulsive warmongers.
Judging by Crown Prince Georg's attitude toward the Teaching Assault Battalion and his clear awareness of future warfare, he was definitely a monarch with long-term strategic vision.
At least the Crown Prince seems normal for now and possesses a certain long-term strategic vision.
Unless the Crown Prince isn't the Emperor's biological son?
Morin violently shook his head, casting aside the bizarre, abstract thought that had randomly popped up.
He forced himself to focus on the predicament at hand.
If the Saxons didn't do it, who did?
The loaded statement made publicly by the Britannian Foreign Secretary, Sir Edward Grey, in the newspaper resurfaced in his mind.
"Who, precisely, intends to drag the innocent into the conflict?"
Yes, who went to all this trouble, laying such an elaborate trap?
Who insisted on dragging the Britannians into this quagmire of war?
Morin knew well that the death of Archduke Ferdinand had completely thrown the Balkan powder keg out of control.
It was only a matter of time before the Austro-Hungarian Empire declared war on Serbia.
And once the Austro-Hungarians made a move, the Saxon Empire, as their ally, would inevitably be drawn in.
Following that, the Gallic Republic would not remain indifferent…
The Britannians couldn't possibly stand by and watch the Saxons grow stronger in Europa. They would likely choose to intervene as well.
A war that would sweep across the entire European continent was inevitable.
But he still wanted to figure out who was behind this assassination.
He didn't want to be pushed onto that meat grinder of a battlefield, a place worse than hell, without understanding the forces at play.
The most important question was: Who benefits the most from igniting this world war that involves all the major powers?
Names of various countries flashed continuously through Morin's mind.
The Austro-Hungarian Empire? They are the victims. Although the hawks want war, there's no need to use the assassination of their own Crown Prince…
The Kingdom of Serbia? They have the motive, but they lack the means to organize an assassination involving a spellcaster.
The Gallic Republic? They want to reclaim lost territories, but directly provoking a world war carries too high a risk.
The Britannians? They have even less reason. Maintaining the status quo is most beneficial for them.
The names of one country after another flashed by, and he dismissed them all.
Until the name 'Russia' suddenly appeared in his mind.
Morin frowned.
Based on the information he had gathered earlier from the International Brigade's André, the Russian Empire was currently engulfed in a massive civil war.
The remnants of the old Empire, led by former Imperial Navy Admiral Kolchak, held large swathes of Siberia.
And the other small factions were finding it increasingly difficult to survive under Kolchak's expansion.
Crucially, the Holy Britannian Empire had publicly announced its support for Kolchak's White Army government and was providing substantial military and economic aid.
And then he realized that the more he thought about it, the more plausible it became.
The contingent of leftist volunteers from all over the world, which included many Eastern Europeans and Russians.
They willingly served as auxiliary forces in the Aragonese Civil War to prevent the Imperialist Powers from interfering in the Russian Civil War.
Especially with the Britannians explicitly stating their support for their enemy, Kolchak.
For them, if a general war erupted on the European continent, all the Imperialist Powers would be dragged in and preoccupied with their own survival.
At that point, who would have the energy or time to bother with a Kolchak far away in Siberia?
This was the perfect strategy of attacking the enemy's heart where it is undefended!
And, most importantly, the International Brigade was definitely involved in the street fighting in Seville!
They would have had every opportunity to secretly acquire the fragment of that Fireball Scroll on the chaotic battlefield!
All the clues, at this moment, connected perfectly!
Morin felt the hairs on his body stand up.
He felt agonizingly close to grasping the truth hidden behind the fog.
Someone had successfully leveraged a dead Archduke and a burnt scroll to set the entire European war machine in motion…
Just as Morin was absorbed in the shock of nearing the truth, the study door was softly pushed open.
Cecilia walked in, carrying a cup of steaming black tea.
Seeing Morin looking utterly lost, she couldn't help but sit down next to him and gently tapped his forehead with her slender finger.
"Fritz, what are you thinking about? Your face is pale, you're utterly lost in thought."
The light tap brought Morin back to reality. He hadn't even noticed when Cecilia walked in, completely lost in his thoughts.
He smiled and shook the newspaper in his hand.
"Nothing, Big Sister Cecilia. I was just thinking about the Sarajevo assassination… I just feel there's more to it than meets the eye."
"Oh?"
Cecilia handed him the black tea, a look of interest on her face.
"I was actually looking for you to discuss that very thing."
"You are here for this too?" Morin took the warm tea, looking at Cecilia with surprise.
"Of course. Didn't you ask me to use Joint Industries' network in the Balkans to gather some intelligence for you?"
"I initially thought it was just routine commercial information, nothing major… but unexpectedly, after Archduke Ferdinand's assassination, my people did manage to gather some very interesting new information."
"New information?" Morin instantly became alert. "What is it?"
"According to the news my people obtained from some old friends within the Austro-Hungarian government who still have influence…"
Cecilia lowered her voice, with a hint of mystery.
"All the surviving guards from the assassination, including some civilians who were close to the explosion site, mentioned a very strange detail during the subsequent interrogation."
"In the few seconds before the explosion, all of them felt as if their ears had gone deaf. They instantly couldn't hear anything."
"Furthermore, during that period, they also found themselves unable to speak. It was as if someone was strangling them. They couldn't utter a single word."
The moment Cecilia provided this information, the system's [Intelligence] tab in Morin's mind immediately flashed with new messages.
[Assassin used [Silence] to suppress and control the scene during the assassination.]
[Silence: 2nd-Circle Illusion School Spell]
[You designate a point within spellcasting distance. No sound can be generated within a 20-foot radius sphere centered on that point for the spell's duration, nor can external sound enter the area. Any creature fully within the area is deafened, and spells requiring a verbal component cannot be cast within the area.]
After quickly scanning the information, Morin sighed inwardly:
This is truly the ultimate spell for stealth, assassination, and crowd control.
The preparation by these assassins was simply too thorough…
Morin silently repeated the spell's name. A fierce longing surged in his heart.
This spell, capable of creating an absolute zone of silence at a crucial moment, had incalculable value, whether for infiltration assaults on the battlefield or for executing certain special missions.
"Fritz? Fritz?"
Cecilia saw Morin staring blankly again and gently waved her hand in front of his eyes.
"Ah, oh, Sister, I'm fine."
Morin snapped back, masking his internal shock.
He was increasingly certain that a well-organized, highly powerful force was controlling this assassination from behind the scenes.
This was far beyond the capability of any ordinary nationalist organization.
"It seems the situation is more complex than we imagined."
Cecilia looked at Morin's solemn expression and also sighed softly.
"Vienna is on the verge of going mad. I estimate they will issue an ultimatum to Serbia very soon. War, I'm afraid, is truly coming."
"Yes, what is meant to come, always comes." Morin nodded, his eyes growing profound.
They talked about the current situation for a while longer, but both felt the path ahead was obscured. Neither could clearly see where the future would lead.
"Alright, let's stop talking about these bothersome things."
Cecilia stood up, stretched, and gave a slightly weary smile.
"I've been so busy these past few days that I haven't slept well. I need to go back to my room to catch up on some sleep~ You should rest well too. It's a rare vacation."
With that, she turned and left the study.
In the empty study, Morin was once again left alone.
Morin impatiently opened the [Magic] tab on his system panel.
He wanted to see if he could learn this 2nd-Circle spell, which was the ultimate tactical control ability.
However, as he anxiously flipped through the spell list, his expression slowly froze.
It wasn't there.
He checked carefully several times, reviewing all the spell lists currently available to him, but he did not see the spell [Silence] listed among them.
"How can this be?"
"Am I not worthy of learning [Silence]?"
Morin's heart was filled with confusion and incomprehension.
Meanwhile, London, High-Level Mage Tower.
"[Silence]?"
The Chief Archmage of the High-Level Mage Corps Council frowned deeply upon hearing the news from Graham.
According to the latest intelligence received by MI6 in London from Sarajevo and Vienna, numerous survivors confirmed the exact scene of being suppressed by the [Silence] spell on the day of the assassination.
"Yes, Chairman."
Graham's expression was deeply serious. "Multiple MI6 reports cross-verified this. The assassin used [Silence] during the operation to disrupt the scene and suppress the Archduke's two Royal Arcane Guards."
"That explains it," another Archmage interjected.
"While the two Royal Arcane Guards in Austro-Hungary are not particularly powerful, they are experienced bodyguards. If they hadn't been interrupted by [Silence], they would have at least had a chance to cast [Shield] or other protective spells, buying the Archduke a moment to escape."
"That is not the key issue."
The Chief Archmage, known as the 'Chairman,' suddenly spoke:
"The key is that [Silence] is not a spell that our spellcasters can learn."
The moment that sentence was uttered, all the Archmages present fell silent.
They knew, of course, how unique and rare the spell [Silence] was.
In this world, those who could cast [Silence], besides the ancient rangers and bards who had long since vanished from history, were only one group of people.
Priests.
The holy men who served the divine and drew their power from the gods!
The six Archmages fell into prolonged silence, but their eyes, as they looked at each other, revealed the same absurd and terrifying conjecture.
Could it be… that the Vatican orchestrated this entire affair?
But why would they do that?
What benefit would assassinating the Crown Prince of a Catholic nation bring them?
The entire Council Hall was once again enveloped in an eerie silence.
"The Vatican…"
The Chief Archmage softly repeated the name, his expression utterly bewildered.
He had witnessed countless storms and conspiracies, but everything that happened today was far beyond his imagination.
"This is impossible!"
A hot-tempered Evocation Archmage banged his hand on the armrest and continued:
"Why would the Holy See do this? Archduke Ferdinand was a devout Catholic. The Austro-Hungarian Empire is one of the Holy See's staunchest allies on the European continent! What reason do they have to assassinate the heir of their own ally?"
"Yes, it completely defies logic."
Another Archmage agreed:
"And by doing this, they are effectively pushing the entire Catholic world into the abyss of war. How does this benefit their mission to spread the faith?"
"But the fact is, [Silence] was used."
Graham's voice was, ironically, the calmest.
"Aside from Priests, I cannot think of anyone else who could cast that divine magic…"
"Are you suggesting that bards who disappeared centuries ago suddenly crawled out of their graves and, driven by some outdated ideals, traveled to Sarajevo to commit an assassination?"
(End of this Chapter)