WeTried Translations
Translator: Botanica
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ I Became the Slit-Eyed Henchman of the Evil Boss ◈
Chapter 53
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That Was the King of Troublemaking (1)
Demos was thrown into confusion by that unexpected word. Had these Blasphemia bastards learned of the Order of the Divine Name's existence?
No. They'd probably known, at least vaguely, that some organization existed occupying a position like "representative of the many faiths," a pope included.
But there was an enormous gap between knowing that something existed and knowing its actual name.
The Order of the Divine Name's existence was the greatest secret even among the god's own people. Even someone formally ordained as a priest couldn't learn that name unless their trustworthiness had been vouched for.
And yet, how did this man know?
'And that isn't even the only problem....'
He'd clearly said he carried a sacred relic of Phoibos. How could a sacred relic have ended up in Blasphemia's hands, and why in the world would it have chosen this man?
Amid the confusion, Ortes's mouth opened.
"So, this was your own decision, I take it."
"Hmph, a clumsy guess. Unless you show me the relic with your own hands, I won't believe it."
"It is a simple matter. This instant-"
Ortes's movement suddenly stopped. A ploy to set up an ambush after all!
But it didn't feel like an ambush. Several seconds had already passed without any attack coming. Demos glared at Ortes, fist still raised.
* * *
Ah.
I gave that to Karisia.
I wasn't flustered. I was used to this kind of improvising by now. So...
"Oh dear. A revelation has just come to me: I must not show you the relic."
"Playing prophet, are you? Ha. Either way, whether it was my own call or not was a coin flip. Just because you happened to guess right doesn't mean you-"
"Had it been the Order of the Divine Name's collective will, they would have done everything in their power to win. You are a priest of the war god Enyalios. But is there not one more war god besides him?"
The priest's words caught in his throat. In the original work, the matter of the gods wasn't a part treated with much care. But I had knowledge built up from raiding Blasphemia branches.
According to Blasphemia's research, the deities called "war gods" usually came in pairs. One was Enyalios, symbol of war's most primal face, violence. The other was Glaupikos, symbol of war's more refined wisdom, tactics and the like.
If the Order of the Divine Name had truly wanted victory, they would have dispatched both powers that ruled over war, Glaupikos of tactics and Enyalios of violence.
"But I do not see a priest of Glaupikos here. Are you ready to hear me out now."
* * *
Demos felt his head grow more and more tangled with confusion. Just an outsider knowing the name of the Order of the Divine Name was already earth-shattering enough.
And on top of that, this man had the order's patterns of behavior figured out this thoroughly?
'Is that truly a foresight born of the Phoibos relic? But the one the relic chose is Blasphemia?'
"I am called by many names."
The still-smiling man murmured on.
"There are many, many names I am called by, but here, I think it best to introduce myself as 'an enemy of the Ten Towers.'"
"Blasphemia, an enemy of the Ten Towers? That doesn't even qualify as a joke, you raving madman!"
"I am also called Blasphemia. But that, too, is not my true name."
The serpent-like, ominous eyes gleamed as he nodded. A signal for an ambush?
No. Around them there was no one but himself, this man, and the hostage girl.
That was when the hostage girl slowly raised her left arm and carefully lifted her index finger. Purple power condensed at its tip. A trace of grape scent brushed past Demos's nose.
"Bacchus's...!"
"That will do. Any more, and the Ten Towers might catch on."
The grape fragrance drifting from the hostage girl's raised finger dispersed. So then.
"This kid, a priest of Bacchus?"
'I heard the Bacchus cult vanished not long ago too. Wasn't she abducted by Blasphemia?!'
Demos looked again at the man's face. Those strange eyelids, half-shut yet half-open. Was that the eccentric habit of a prophet who saw both future and present at once?
"...No. I've seen the head of the Phoibos cult in person. There was no one like you there."
"The priests of Phoibos sometimes see different futures from one another. When the future the cult leader saw and the one a priest saw themselves differ, which to believe is left to that priest's own heart."
"Who are you."
"For now, simply call me an enemy of the Ten Towers. The same as you."
Having witnessed with his own eyes this man's cooperation with a girl who wielded Bacchus's divine power, Demos couldn't simply dismiss the claim outright. He pieced together the man's identity from the clues laid bare before him.
An enemy of the Ten Towers, and more than that.
'A prophet of Phoibos...!'
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Demos spoke as calmly as he could manage.
"One last question. Why does someone calling himself an enemy of the Ten Towers operate under a Blasphemia identity."
"Who is it that suppresses these cults and kills them the most."
"Blasphemia, of course."
"Even if I went around personally, warning every cult of what is coming, there would inevitably be other cults that could not escape it. But what if, from within Blasphemia itself, I fed them false information and subtly steered their actions?"
More could be saved that way. Convinced, Demos frowned but nodded all the same.
"...That does make sense, I suppose."
"Then let us turn to the matter at hand."
Clap. The Prophet of Phoibos brought his two palms together.
* * *
Phew. It worked.
It was a stroke of luck that I'd thought to text Kyne just in case, telling her to follow along. Yeah, you really do need a backup plan.
"Ah, please send that child back. You know well enough that she is not an enemy, do you not?"
"I'm not like Blasphemia. I only said that much, I don't actually enjoy killing children."
The priest of Enyalios grumbled but let Kyne go all the same.
"Let me answer the question that weighs on you most, first. Where did the abducted believers go."
I pointed at the ruins.
"That is the answer."
"What?"
"If you infiltrated during Elysion's chaos, you must have heard the declaration broadcast by the Eroded who called themselves 'Argyrion.'"
"I did. But what do they have to do with it? The skill it took to locate and track down our order's hideout, that was Blasphemia's own work."
"Because Argyrion's leadership are Eroded who were once Blasphemia agents."
The priest's face hardened. To him, Argyrion had probably registered as an enemy of the Ten Towers, meaning an enemy of an enemy. Not something to trust outright, but something usable, given they shared a common foe.
But if they'd originally been Blasphemia, no compromise was possible. Not an enemy of an enemy, just one more enemy added to the tally.
I could more or less guess how the order's people had come to disappear.
Earlier, Karisia had deduced that the silver thread injected into Sikton's brain was a "rehearsal for the Elysion terror attack."
Then why, of all things, had Argyrion chosen the Order of the Vanished God as its test bed?
The reason was simple.
Because it was a group they could abduct and kill without drawing suspicion.
If Argyrion had abducted people from some city, it would inevitably have drawn attention. If the Magic Towers responsible for each region moved to investigate, that would spell trouble for Argyrion.
But the Order of the Vanished God?
Hunting them down and killing them was Blasphemia's job to begin with. If a handful of superstition-following groups disappeared, people would be glad, not suspicious.
The group carrying the least risk to abduct.
Just as they had tested the silver thread on Sikton, it made perfect sense that the order's believers would be chosen as the first hosts to smuggle into Elysion and set off.
I summarized this reasoning as briefly as I could.
"Argyrion is a band of the Eroded who retained Blasphemia's know-how and information. Your order simply happened to be the group easiest to secure hosts from for this silver-thread attack."
The priest's face, flushed red with blood only moments ago, went pale.
"The people who were abducted!"
"The terror attack has already been carried out. Most of them must be considered already spent."
Thud. The priest's legs gave out beneath him, and he sank down.
"Guh, gaaaaaaaah!"
The priest's anguished cry rang out. It hurt to push a man in that much pain, but there was no time to spare.
"Listen carefully. I will tell you what you must do from here."
"My sibling! My own sibling!"
"If you remain sunk in despair, all that awaits you from here on is a future of losing still more people."
* * *
Demos raised his head. Ortes stood facing him with the sun at his back.
The image of Phoibos's divinity rose in his mind. Phoibos who saw far, Phoibos who stood highest, was also the sun god.
With the sun blocking his face, only those blue eyes shone out from within the shadow. From the heart of that backlight, the Prophet of Phoibos spoke.
"Argyrion will become an enemy to all of you. Through their wicked research to pry open the door to the extradimensional, the Bacchus cult was annihilated, and this child was the only life I was able to save."
"This is a danger bearing down on every cult that shares purpose with the Order of the Divine Name. So, priest of Enyalios: do not kneel before despair, rise. Do not cover your eyes with that hand. Clench it into a fist instead."
Jaw clenched, Demos staggered back to his feet.
"What must I do."
"I know what Argyrion intends to do next. Take word of it to the Order of the Divine Name."
* * *
Argyrion meant to use this terror attack to buy time to hide its main base. Which meant not every silver-thread host here could be allowed to be caught.
As it happened, Elysion had a mana-engine train station connecting to every corner of the world.
"At the very end of this terror attack, they will announce that they have spread silver-thread hosts across the entire world."
"How? Right now Blasphemia agents are moving through every corner of Elysion, hunting down the Eroded. You infiltrated their ranks, so you'd know their capabilities better than I would."
"The mana-engine train. Before they ever announce the terror attack, they will already have mixed hosts in among the passengers. Once this is known, the Ten Towers will have no choice but to spend manpower hunting down every host. That buys Argyrion the time to regroup."
"......!"
"If there is one advantage a terrorist holds over the Ten Towers, it is this: they alone choose the timing of the terror attack. Their true objective was already achieved before the terror attack even began. Everything since has just been extra, added on to make the spectacle more shocking."
That was the conclusion I'd reached after wondering why they'd staged something this large.
The Argyrion cadre sent into Elysion had effectively been a throwaway piece. Their real goal had been a puppet's flashy debut, one meant to smother the Ten Towers' pursuit entirely.
"The Order of the Divine Name could become the variable in this fight between the two sides. Whether to tip the scale toward tracking down Argyrion's hideout, or to accept the sacrifice of your believers and instead swell Argyrion's ranks, setting the stage for a bloodier clash with the Ten Towers."
"Accept the sacrifice?! You think I would allow such a thing!"
"Even if you would not allow it, what does the Order of the Divine Name's will say?"
The priest of Enyalios fell silent.
All done. I scrawled an email address on a scrap of paper and pressed it into the priest's hand.
"If the Order of the Divine Name's collective will settles on Argyrion's destruction, let me know. This email address belongs to Blasphemia agent L13. It is one of the names I go by."
* * *
After the priest of Enyalios took the note Ortes handed him and left, Kyne asked in a trembling voice.
"Y-you. Don't tell me you're really a prophet of Phoibos?"
He had rushed here foreseeing the Bacchus cult's destruction, and had recited the movements of that monstrous organization called Argyrion as though he'd watched them unfold beforehand.
From the moment he'd brought her along to help persuade the priest of Enyalios, right up to now, everything had moved exactly according to Ortes's plan.
Foresight so precise it was chilling. Could even the head of the Phoibos cult manage something like that?
Hearing Kyne's question, Ortes rubbed his temple.
"Kyne."
"...Yeah."
"If you are that naive, wicked adults out in the world will trick you one day. Let us go see the president."
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