Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 660 Confession
The Sunset Temple in Emerald City is not as grand and imposing as the Great Temple in Everstar City, but it is exquisite and well-arranged. It is an architectural masterpiece based on the pre-dynastic triumphant style of the old empire, while also taking into account the mathematical and geometric aesthetics of the new era.

This religious architectural style, which seeks stability amidst change, confirms that the Star Kingdom at the end of the third century was in a turbulent and restless era. "From kings and nobles to commoners, everyone was torn between the old rules and the new ideas. To advance meant leaving their homes and facing thorns everywhere, while to retreat meant growing old and waiting to die" (End of the Calendar 349, Boser Caandi, "The Dilemma of the Century: Star Kingdom or Empire?").

The temple was overseen by two high-ranking clergy members during the reign of Sumerian III the Jackal: one was the sub-priest of the congregation of priests, who was well-versed in history and theology, and the other was the sub-bishop of the congregation of missions, who was well-versed in mathematics and architecture.

In that era, their collaboration and the completion of this temple in Emerald City were one of the achievements and symbols of religious reconciliation between the Priests and Propagation Departments within the Sunset Belief System, proving that the century-long, bloody religious conflict in the Star Kingdom—the "Priest-Religion Conflict"—had finally come to an end.

(Some documents mark this religious sectarian conflict as the "Schistocratic Schism," marking its beginning with King Tormund IV's disregard for High Priestess Lydia Star's ordained appointment, his interference in temple affairs, and his unauthorized appointment of Archbishop Nereif as a "false promise." However, due to the controversy surrounding King Tormund IV's legitimacy and the negative impression he held among court historians, this historical term is far less widely accepted by court historians than the "Spiritual Dispute," which began with King Thorn's written statement of the son's ascent.)
(Some later scholars also believe that the root of the conflict between priests and religious figures can be traced back to Sumer II, who "cut off the lineage." They argue that it was because he was crowned king as a religious scholar that the status of non-hereditary priests in the Temple of the Setting Sun gradually increased, and they gradually gained power, eventually threatening the sacred and inviolable power to interpret oracles and preside over sacrifices.)
Under the mediation of the "Jackal" King (and perhaps also the threat of invaders from the Eastern Continent), the supreme authority of the Sunset faith—the Sunset Temple—officially and peacefully separated:
The priesthood was able to exclusively enjoy the traditional name of "temple," and all the sunset priests in the kingdom were under the jurisdiction of the high priest of the sunset.

The Congregation for Missions was separated from the Temple and renamed "The Church," with the Archbishop of Sunset at its head having the authority to appoint Sunset priests responsible for missions in each diocese.

Thus, the temple and the church jointly worshipped the setting sun, one close to God and the other close to man, each in charge of sacred and secular affairs, acknowledging each other but not subordinate to one another, with their authority divided without regard to rank.

As a condition for reconciliation, the priests ceased using terms such as "heresy," "dissent," "depravity," and "devilish seduction" to attack and persecute dissenting believers, and were tolerant of doctrinal interpretations; the clergy removed the "alien pattern" symbol from their robes, stopped claiming freedom of interpretation, and gave up inciting lower-class believers to oppose the priests and lords.

As for those sensitive issues that once stirred up countless bloody storms, such as "whether truth resides in the holy way or is hidden in the mundane world," "which is closer to God, the altar or the church," "who is more qualified to speak for God, the priest or the clergy," and "who is superior or inferior, more important or less important, the high priest or the archbishop," these religious controversies were collectively shelved or even avoided.

Peace requires mutual trust, but trust requires compromise.

This significant temple became the first, and probably the only, religious building shared by a temple, church, priests, and clergy. The Emerald City's sacrificial ceremonies and church sermons were all conducted here.

At this moment, as one of the most honored guests, Thales sat on the viewing platform at the front of the temple altar, seemingly solemnly gazing at the statue of the Sunset Goddess. Well, compared to the way she looked at you like she was going to kill you if you met her eyes in the Everstar City Temple, wasn't her face here much gentler and more humane?

Behind him, about ten meters away, countless nobles and people of high status filled the remaining seats in front of the altar. They were all dressed in dark-colored formal attire for worshipping the gods (it is said that the Sun Temple across the sea, on the other hand, worships white and light-colored attire). They watched as the high priest of the Emerald City's temple recited a long sacrificial text in a melodious and rhythmic voice, preparing to begin the public prayer.

Thales secretly turned around and saw Count Lacia and his son from Zedi, Count Havia from Saltwall Harbor, Count Schukadell from Long Island with his ever-smiling face—and the devilish twins of the Kalabyan family in the first row of people. The two of them raised their fans (this time with the words "Sunset Blessing, All You Need" and "Sunset Blessing, Success and Fame" on them) to cover their faces and secretly winked at Thales in front of them. But Miranda next to them hummed in agreement, and the two sisters immediately sat up straight and did not look at each other.

Thales gave Mira a thumbs up.

For some reason, Thales thought the Karabyan twins were much more pleasing to the eye yesterday, but seeing them today gave him a headache again.

But his headaches soon stopped.

Because at the very edge of the first row, Hilaire Kevindir still looked like she hadn't woken up yet. She rested her elbows on her knees, listlessly propped her chin on her hand, and her head bobbed up and down amidst the priests' chanting and the solemn atmosphere of the temple.

Noticing Thales's gaze sweep over, the round-faced girl frowned.

While everyone was distracted, she silently raised her hand into a claw and made a ferocious, snarling face at him.

Oops.

Thales quickly turned around.

Looking back, Kai'Sa and Qina were actually quite good.

“I heard you sent someone to the prison early this morning,” a familiar figure entered the temple under the watchful eyes of the crowd, came to Thales’ side, lowered his voice, and said in a cold tone, “for the death of Dagor Morse.”

Thales felt as if he had been doused with cold water, and his mood sank.

The prince gave a low, cold snort:

"So you know."

Instead of sitting down, Jenn bowed respectfully to the statue of the goddess of sunset and appeared to be praying.

Thales had no choice but to stand up and follow him, lest he be criticized for being arrogant and domineering towards the gods—and so, as a result, the sound of chairs clattering came from behind, and the believers present stood up one after another and hurriedly offered prayers.

Jenn's expression remained unchanged:

“I was just about to tell you, Thales, about the accident involving that wine merchant…”

“Yes, that’s the Emerald City’s prison, your prison,” Thales sneered sarcastically. “You should be the one telling me that.”

Jenn was silent for a moment, then said in a low voice:

“I admit that it was due to my subordinates’ poor supervision—no, it was my negligence.”

Thales raised an eyebrow: "Just an oversight? Nothing else?"

"I am sorry for your loss."

"My deepest condolences—"

Furious and frustrated, Thales took a deep breath, trying to remember that he was in a temple.

"By the radiant Goddess, the holy sun, the goddess's grace is boundless, the setting sun shines without limit. May you bless my kingdom, protect this city, just as you once favored King Hyman and Queen Regina, saving countless lives from the flames of war..."

Before the altar, priests stepped out from both sides of the altar, one after another holding candles and following along. They bowed and prayed rhythmically in response to the celebrant's chant, and the believers followed suit, praying respectfully.

No one noticed that on the most prestigious viewing platform, the two dukes were facing off in silence.

“Officer Caquere told me that Dagory Moss was found dead in prison at midnight last night,” Thales said in a low voice, glancing at Jann beside him amidst repeated religious chanting. “But my men also received the news around midnight last night—I remember the fireworks of the celebration.”

The Duke of Iris, who had been pretending to pray, opened his eyes, his gaze bright.

"You found out so quickly, it seems your Star Lake Guard is very well-informed."

“On the contrary, I know my men’s capabilities,” Thales replied coldly. “In the unfamiliar Emerald City, news from the prison to me would have been delayed for a long time: Dagory’s death would have come much earlier than midnight.”

Jann's eyes sharpened, but he didn't answer.

"But the prison still reports that it was discovered at midnight. Why is that?"

Thales, recalling Miranda and their reward, squinted and questioned:

"Or rather, why would the prison authorities alter or falsify the reported time of the incident?"

Lying about the time...

Jann gazed intently at the priests before the altar, and after a moment, he smiled and spoke:
"I don't know the specifics. But I suspect they changed the time of the incident to cover up the prison's own negligence. Don't worry, I'll take care of the relevant departments—"

"enough."

Thales interrupted him coldly:
"Goddess of the Sunset—literally—be above, so please stop lying."

The Duke of the South Bank's eyes flickered, but his smile remained unchanged:

"I do not understand?"

The prince shook his head: "Three times."

"What, three times?"

Thales sneered: "At last night's banquet, we talked about many things, from the background of each guest to the past and present of Emerald City."

"But there's one thing, Little Flower, that you've mentioned three times, intentionally or unintentionally."

Jann was initially puzzled, but he quickly remembered something, and his pupils contracted!
Inside the temple, the religious chanting gradually subsided.

“Yes, you mentioned that wine merchant, Dagory Moss,” Thales said, raising his head and slowly sitting down after the prayer, “three times in total.”

“Not everyone can be remembered by our South Bank Duke for so long—sit down and stop tormenting the people behind you.”

Jann's expression was serious and solemn, but after a few seconds, he slowly sat down.

Then, a rustling sound of people taking their seats could be heard from the back of the temple.

On the altar, the candlestick in front of the high priest suddenly turned silver with a whoosh.

Amidst the whispers of the congregation, the high priest calmly waited for the priestly apprentices to put on his ceremonial gloves embroidered with the sunset emblem. Then, he took the plate from his assistant, tore the communion bread into pieces, and solemnly and skillfully swept them across the silver candlelight before placing them on the silver plate handed to him by the next priest.

On the most honored viewing platform, Thales, though watching the high priest's movements, kept his words on topic:
"Even when I pressed you last night about whether to release Morse, you hurriedly changed the subject by bringing up Miranda, pretending to be captivated by her beauty after her transformation."

Jenn gave a soft hum:
"Really? I don't remember at all."

As the communion service began, the two parish deputies stepped forward, neither humble nor arrogant, and presented the two pieces of communion, which had been toasted by the setting sun's fire, onto a silver platter to the two dukes.

"It's okay, I'll remember it for you, and it's not just this one."

Thales picked up the silver plate, took a small piece of communion, and bit into his mouth—it didn't taste as good as the one in the Kongming Palace.

Jann solemnly and naturally offered the Eucharist, displaying a ceremony far more orthodox than that of the Duke of Starlake. Thales even suspected that he swallowed it without chewing, suffering for the sake of saving face.

"At the royal banquet, before Anker Bailar brandished that dagger of unknown origin to plead for their land issue, another young and promising duke eagerly came up to me and started rambling on about the vassals' land problems."

Thales squinted:
"You must remember that what I said reflects what I thought, right?"

Jenn's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

"Tell me, Lord Jann, why was Dagory Moss mentioned at last night's contest?"

Thales spoke softly, but his words were sharp:
“Unless you already knew back then that Morse was dead, and the words were just a test for me.”

Jann rose gently, smiling, and returned the silver platter to the priest:

“Thales…”

But the prince ignored it and dropped the silver plate in his hand to the ground with a thud, startling many people.

The Duke of the South Bank had to smile apologetically, painstakingly picked up the prince's plate, gently handed it to the priest, and then returned to his seat.

"So, Little Flower, you have a guilty conscience, yet you pretended not to know and quietly held the competition banquet, keeping it a secret from me the whole time, even though you knew all along."

Thales suppressed his displeasure in his words:

"You even instructed the prison staff to cover up the incident, including changing the time of the crime to midnight, just to avoid arousing my suspicion and thus mislead me into believing that Dagory really did die from a simple suicide or revenge killing?"

Jann took a deep breath and smiled as he responded to each believer who walked past him and returned the silver platter to the priest.

"why?"

Thales gritted his teeth:

"Dagori Moss, what reason did he have to die?"

As the last believer returned to his seat, the high priest's serious expression relaxed, and he smiled as he announced the end of the communion ceremony.

The esteemed believers finally relaxed, the tranquil and solemn atmosphere was broken, and conversations and greetings rose and fell.

"ridiculous."

The first time, Jenn coldly retorted to Thales:
"Moss is a traitor. He worked for me, but he used my resources to embezzle money that rightfully belonged to me. Even as a businessman, he is a scoundrel. Since entering the liquor industry, he has cheated and harmed countless people. He deserves to die."

Taking advantage of the fact that no one was paying attention, the duke glared at him fiercely:
"And the last time you got involved with him, you only got yourself into trouble for nothing, so why bother taking it so seriously?"

“That’s not my question,” Thales said, unmoved by his words. “I’m asking: Why did you kill him last night?”

Jann's expression changed.

He suddenly stood up, startling several guests who were about to greet the Duke.

“This is not the place to talk,” Duke Iris glanced at Thales. “Come with me.”

After saying that, Jenn turned and left, his face gloomy the whole way. He only nodded to the greetings of others without answering.

Thales snorted and stood up to follow, showing no fear whatsoever.

Now everyone could see that there was another problem between the two dukes.

Faced with two equally terrible auras of varying degrees, no one dared to step forward and speak. Even the demon twins shrank back while whispering to each other, raising their hand fans and turning them over to reveal the backs: "Kasakina, add Cohen to the mix; ward off disasters and difficulties, and you will surely live a peaceful life."

Inside the temple, the worshippers began whispering cautiously again. Amidst the commotion, several indistinct words could be vaguely heard: "enemies turned against each other because of a sister," "mistakes by brothers," "bullying men and women," "northern barbarians," and so on...

Thales followed Jann up to the second floor of the temple. Jann pushed open a door, revealing a rather private and prestigious confessional—two small wooden compartments connected by soundproof panels. Jann opened the door to one of the compartments without hesitation.

Thales frowned and fanned away the pungent smell—a sparse-haired, ruddy-faced Sunset Priest, exuding an air of wealth from head to toe, sat comfortably in the cubicle, idly sucking on a metal tube in his hand, exhaling clouds of smoke.

"Zhadvi?"

The portly priest, who was smoking and was probably in his fifties, was startled by what he heard, opened his eyes, jumped up from the confessional, and slammed his head against the door.

"Ah, Your Grace! Your Highness!"

The Chadian priest was in so much pain that tears streamed down his face, but he didn't care about anything else. He frantically stuffed his hookah into his robe.

"What I'm doing is... preparing for my confession later, and I need to enter a state of absolute rationality and calm..."

But Jann showed no mercy and dragged him out of the confessional cubicle:
"Go out and guard the door; don't let anyone near."

Chadwi, clutching his hookah, stumbled, somewhat dazed.

"But I still have to confess to these distinguished guests later..."

“From now on, you have confessed to the Duke of South Bank and the Second Prince, isn’t that enough?” Jann said coldly. “The others, let them go to other confessionals.”

Chadwi was stunned for a while. He looked at Jann, then at Thales, and finally at the cramped confessional. Suddenly, a flash of inspiration struck him, and he realized what was going on.

He was no longer nervous. Instead, he shook his belly, boldly revealed his hookah, and gave a wicked smile:
"But, Your Grace, the Goddess of the Sunset won't forgive us for lying, unless..."

Thales squinted.

"Get out now, Chadwi," but Jann's expression remained unchanged, only his tone was colder: "The goddess of the sunset will forgive you and old lady Tor for your good deed, and will not let her son know, much less let him come to you for a life-or-death duel for the sake of his deceased father's honor."

The Chadian priest froze instantly.

“Hmm?” Jann raised an eyebrow.

The next second, the priest of Chadwi, realizing what had happened, scrambled out of the room and slammed the door shut.

Thales was somewhat surprised:
"That guy, is Chadwi a priest or a cleric? Hmm, haven't I seen him somewhere before..."

But Jenn just snorted and sat down in a side cubicle.

In return, Thales snorted irritably, opened the door to another confessional cubicle, fanned away the smoke, and sat down in the darkness inside.

"Now you can speak—"

But before Thales could finish speaking, a figure in another cubicle flickered.

With a bang, Jenn pushed open the cubicle door, went to Thales's cubicle, opened the door, and squeezed in.

"Move aside," the Duke said coldly.

"Hey!"

Thales was pushed aside by Jenn, gritting his teeth:

"There are empty seats over there..."

"The smell of smoke." Jenn's gaze was displeased, his words concise and to the point. Thales was taken aback.

"Smokers shouldn't be afraid of the smell of smoke anymore, right?"

"Those who have experienced poverty shouldn't be afraid of being poor again, right?"

Thales was speechless for a moment.

So the Duke of Starlake and the Duke of Southbank huddled together in the cramped admonition room, glaring at each other in the darkness—so that they could hear each other's breath.

"I didn't kill him."

Jann gritted his teeth and said, "I didn't kill Dagory Moss, or instruct anyone else to kill him."

Thales shook his head dismissively:
"Alright, now that things have come to this, what's the point of making excuses?"

Jenn's breathing became heavier:

"For the sake of Sunset, I swear in my father's name! When the prison officials reported this news, Thales Shining Star, I was just as shocked as you!"

Thales paused in his speech.

All that could be heard was the Duke of the South Bank roaring in the darkness;

“Dagorie Moss may be a pawn of the Secret Service, but he’s already in my prison, at my disposal. Why would I bother killing him in prison to silence him, only to come back and make up excuses for you and invite trouble upon myself?”

Thales frowned, pondering for a moment.

“But your people altered or even concealed the case, from the time to the scene, from the suspect to the facts, including Caquere’s report,” the prince began methodically. “They turned a murder into a suicide and suppressed it—Moss is not an ordinary criminal, they wouldn’t dare do this on their own, this could only be at your behest.”

"Yes."

This time, Jenn openly admitted it without any attempt to hide it:
"In order to maintain stability."

“Stable?” Thales chuckled sarcastically.

“That wine merchant went to jail because of our conflict. His murder will become the center of public attention,” Jann explained patiently, suppressing his anger. “We can’t and don’t need to let this interfere with the Battle of the Contest and the start of the Emerald Celebration. The guests don’t need to know.”

"Go to hell! The guests don't need to know, but what about me? You even made up stories afterward to cover up the truth, just to fool me? Vendetta? Bah!" Thales spat.

"That story was just borrowed—"

"Enough! Little Flower, I'm fed up with beating around the bush with you. What reason do you have for keeping Dagory Moss's death from me all night?"

"you!"

Thales nodded angrily: "Yes!"

Jenn retorted angrily, "No, you!"

"Yes, it's me!"

"No, no, no! I mean, it's you!"

Thales was baffled: "What's wrong with me?"

Jenn was speechless with anger.

He took a deep breath and raised his index finger: "No—I mean, because of you! Because I'm worried it's you!"

Thales was stunned:
"What? What are you worried about? It's me."

Jann took several deep breaths before finally calming himself down.

"Alright, since things have come to this, I'll just ask directly."

He turned to Thales in the darkness, his eyes cold and serene:
“Dagori Moss, did you kill him, Thales?”

what?
Did I kill him?
Thales paused for a moment:
"what?"

Jenn snorted coldly:
"Was it your people who killed him? Or did you order your subordinates or people outside the palace to kill him in prison?"

Thales realized what was happening and angrily denied it:

"What nonsense are you talking about—of course not!"

"Did you know beforehand? At least at the banquet?" Jann asked suspiciously, pressing him further.

"No! That's the question I should be asking you!"

Jenn gave a sarcastic sneer.

"So, do you, or your 'good friends' in the Secret Service, have any conspiracies or plans surrounding Morse's death to deal with me?"

The Secret Service's "good friends"...

The image of that round-faced girl appeared before his eyes, and Thales was instantly speechless.

"I do not understand what you are saying."

In the darkness, Jenn remained silent for a long while.

"Hmph, I suppose so," the Duke of South Shore said coldly, his tone laced with disdain. "With your cowardly and stupid appearance... you don't seem capable of helping the Kingdom's Secret Service carry out their schemes."

"you--"

Thales did his utmost to stabilize his emotions with the Sin of the River of Hell:
"Wait, you mean you kept it from me because you suspected me?"

“Last night was a contest banquet, the focus of everyone’s attention,” Jann said in an air of self-righteousness that left no room for doubt. “As I said, if your father wanted to make a move, this was a very good opportunity.”

"As for me, I can never be too suspicious or cautious."

Thales let out a breath in disbelief:

"So you even suspect me, that I killed Dagory?"

"Nonsense, that wine merchant came to you of his own accord, Your Highness!"

Jenn was extremely indignant and angrily retorted:

"You're the one who brought him into the city! You're the one who told me he was a member of the Secret Service! He's already in prison and you're still keeping tabs on him! So, of course, when Dagory Moss died mysteriously at the crucial moment of the Feast of Conquest, yes, I had a thousand reasons to suspect you first!"

Thales gasped in anger:

"Me—have you fucking lost your mind?"

But Jenn was not to be outdone:
"Don't forget, you're a damned star! Who knows if you did it? Or if someone on your side did it? Who knows if you're going to use this to cause trouble at the banquet? Are you planning some kind of conspiracy to catch me off guard? Who knows if Morse's death was the knife that killed him, and you just happened to be the one wielding it!"

"I?"

Thales took a deep breath and looked around angrily, but could only see darkness.

“I stood beside you last night, analyzing with you the possible conspiracy between my father and the Kingdom's secret service! We were on high alert all night long, until the banquet ended!”

Jenn retorted sarcastically:
"Yes, undercover agents and spies do the same thing, and they'll make it look even more convincing than you do!"

Thales laughed in exasperation:
"And we even discussed Emerald City's weaknesses together—okay, even if you have questions or doubts, you could have just asked me directly!"

"Ask you? Ask you what? 'Hey, Thales, happy feast, who did you just kill?'"

"You could at least give it a try!"

Thales roared, "Are you mute? Even 'Faceless Kirk' has a mouth! My mute underlings can all use sign language!"

"Can I give it a try?"

Jenn was clearly also getting angry, and in the cubicle he no longer cared about etiquette:
"Yes, I can, of course I can! But I choose not to try—because you f***ing can't!"

"What? I can't?"

The Duke of South Bank angrily flung his hand away:

“Oh, stop pretending, Thales. We’ve been at it for seven years. I know you better than anyone. If I were to tell you this with a smile at the Feast of Conquest, casually, that Morse is dead, that your good toy and wine merchant has been ruined and lost…wouldn’t that overly compassionate, overly righteous, or rather, hypocritically virtuous great saint like Prince Thales be the first to suspect me?”

"I--"

"Wouldn't the first suspicions be that I embezzled, that I was ruthless, that I was crying wolf, and that I secretly silenced Morse?"

"you--"

"Wouldn't you come here full of righteous indignation and demand an explanation, asking me what happened—like just now, smashing plates in public at the Sunset Temple and giving me a hard time? Or like now, hurling insults at me without even asking what happened?"

“Jane Kevin Deer,” Thales struggled to catch his breath, gritting his teeth as he spoke each word with venom, “Are you fucking serious?”

"It's really taller than you!"

"You son of a bitch—"

"And last night was the Battle of the Contest, the opening act of the Emerald Festival! A century-old tradition of Kevin Deer!"

Jenn was furious:
"Who knows if someone as well-known as you, a notorious troublemaker, will ruin my banquet? It's a banquet that has never had a mishap in my family for generations!"
"Who knows if you'll suddenly have a mental breakdown again, like at the royal banquet where you threw a sword in public and asked, 'Did you bring this?' Or like at the Palace of Restoration and the Royal Council, where you stormed the palace and rebelled over a trivial kidnapper? Or even cause a huge mess in front of all the guests at the Feast of Conquest—'No, everyone in Emerald City, be the judge! Jenn, you're so mean! Did you ruin my cute and pitiful little wine merchant's lover in bed?'"

Jann imitated Thales in a high-pitched voice, which was both comical and laughable, but unfortunately, the Duke of Starlake himself was not among the audience who could appreciate it.

"I'm not—are you kidding me!"

Thales angrily pounded the door:

"You know I won't do that, and I certainly won't say that. I won't ruin your party!"

"No, I do not know!"

Jenn strongly refuted:

"But even if I know, I don't know if others will!"

"other people?"

“Yes! I don’t know if others, like your father, have any backup plans! I don’t know if the Royal Secret Service will interfere, take advantage of your temper and personality, and sow discord and plot against you without your knowledge—who dares to say that it definitely won’t happen? Do you dare to say that? Do you know? Can you guarantee it?”

Thales was still furious:

"But if you come to me and tell me the truth, I can at least guarantee—"

"You're just a powerless, rootless, and despised prince whose ass is bigger than his head. What kind of guarantee can you possibly make?!"

"You—yes, I'm poor! But I have leverage, I have the support of my subordinates, they can keep things in order, at least I can guarantee..."

"Oh, your subordinate? That Danny Doyle who comes to the main hall every day to shamelessly mooch free Tyrenbond's overpriced spring water, then goes off to eat, drink, and have fun with the rich kids, and always runs up his tab before coming back to Ashford to get reimbursed?"

"You—he, DD, he's just... don't just focus on him!"

After their argument, Thales and Jenn had gone off-topic and were exhausted from shouting. In addition, the air in the confessional was stuffy, and both of them were panting. They tacitly stopped their fight for a while.

Several seconds later, Jenn finally caught his breath.

"Therefore, it concerns the traditions of the entire Emerald City, the face of Kevin Deer, and the safety and rule of the Iris."

He said stiffly:
"At the banquet, the safest and most reliable method I could think of at the time was to suppress Morse's death and turn it into an ordinary suicide out of guilt—when no one knew about it, no one cared, and no one could make a fuss about it, including our enemies."

Thales couldn't help but sneer:
You mean including me?

"As I said, this was for the greater good and for stability! And the facts have proven it to be a success; everything was normal that night!"

Jenn repeatedly emphasized, through gritted teeth:

“I originally planned to tell you afterward, in a more prudent and rational way, rather than having you do it on your own…”

"Oh, of course, and then have Caquere tell me afterwards that Moss was just killed by a few petty thugs who were seeking revenge? And I won't have to worry about it anymore, I can just go back to my room and get a good night's sleep—that's really safe and rational!"

Thales spat again:
"If I hadn't been so stubborn and persistent in investigating, were you just going to treat me like a fool, keeping me in the dark and playing along until disaster struck, then pushing me out to take the fall?"

Upon hearing this, Jenn scoffed dismissively and waved his hand, saying:
"Sure enough, my guess came true. Look at your childish temper, like someone stole your lollipop—how ​​can you expect me to believe you?"

"I'll return those words to you!"

Thales said bitterly:

"Since you're treating me like a fool, you'd better be prepared to be driven crazy by my childish temper! Friendly reminder, the last person to suffer from this kind of childish temper was Charman Lun—"

boom!
With a loud bang, the confessional cubicle door was flung open.

The next second, a monster with wet, red, fleshy whiskers on its face lunged at the door, opening its enormous, slimy mouth to the two shocked people, making a disgusting slurping sound:

"Rustling, rustling~"

In the nick of time, Jann roared and grabbed the monster's face, tearing off its skin:
"roll!!!"

Boom!
With a muffled thud, Jann threw the monster skin in his hand to the ground and glared at the round-faced, freckled girl in front of him, who looked completely bewildered.

Time seemed to stand still.

Several seconds later, Hilly Kevindeer raised an eyebrow, nonchalantly lowered his head, and picked up the damp leather case:

"Okay, this is a sucker demon, supposedly from a long time ago..."

"Get out! Don't you understand?!" Jann interrupted her, still furious.

Hilly shrugged, unconcerned.

"What a pity, sigh, it was so hard to bring him in..."

Under Jann's angry glare, she grabbed the Sucking Demon's suit, crumpled it into a ball, and stuffed it under her skirt, not forgetting to complain dryly, "There's nothing we can do when we encounter boring audiences who don't understand or want to cooperate..."

As she left, Hilly gave Thales a meaningful look:

"A performance can't always be a success."

Seeing Hilly stagger out of the room, Duke Iris snorted angrily and closed the door to the confessional.

"This is outrageous! They lack discipline."

Jenn snorted angrily and turned his head:
"In short, as we just discussed—what are you doing huddled in the corner?"

Under the strange gaze of the Duke of the South Bank, Thales slowly straightened up, raised his head, wiped the sweat from his face, and remained expressionless:
"I... I'm tying my shoelaces."