A Faith Knight could only use Honest Inquiry once per day.
Victor told the Baron to think carefully before asking his question.
The Baron deliberated for a mont before asking, "Why did you fra ?"
The few people watching nodded.
The question cut straight to the point—firm, precise, and ruthless.
Allen’s Father started to speak, but Allen’s Mother shot him a glare. He looked at his children, who were still crying over the handcart, then gritted his teeth and said,
"Let see my son Allen’s body. Once I’ve seen it, I’ll tell you everything."
’It’s over...’ The mont her husband spoke, the color drained from Allen’s Mother’s face.
If her face had been colorless before, now it was as rigid and ashen as a corpse’s.
Hearing this, and connecting it to the earlier events, the crowd began to understand that the whole affair was nothing but a self-staged farce.
In contrast to the stone-hearted Allen’s Mother, the onlookers saw that Allen’s Father had finally relented for the sake of his son’s body. They nodded amongst themselves. ’At least he has so conscience left.’
The Baron replied, "Very well."
He returned the spear to the guard and stepped aside for Allen’s Father.
Allen’s Father walked over to the handcart, which was covered by a straw mat. He wept for a mont, then his trembling hands reached for the mat.
The Baron suddenly grabbed his hand. "You can look after you’re done talking."
Allen’s Father nodded. He glanced at his wife, whose expression was one of mournful resignation, and finally began to speak.
"We did this because you bear a strong resemblance to an old acquaintance of mine from Haiwede, whom I t many years ago. I thought you might be his son.
Also, when it was ti for the match, I realized it was you on stage instead of my son. And on top of that, I’d just lost a bit of money..."
"So you just went ahead and claid Mr. L was your son?"
Miss Triss snapped, still resentful about having been deceived.
Allen’s Father said apologetically, "No, that’s not it. We wouldn’t have dared think of such a thing at the ti."
"It was all because of a reporter. That reporter told they had a way to get my family out of our financial hardship.
They said they knew a staff mber backstage, and that you, Mr. L, had used my son’s ’Allen Vincent’ contestant pass when you first went up.
They said that if we just did as they instructed, our family could escape debt and poverty.
I had bet everything I had on my son, Allen, losing. But then you, Mr. L, took his place and won, so I lost all my money.
That’s when the idea ca to ..."
’The son of an old acquaintance? A reporter who knows the backstage staff? All coordinating to stage this little drama?’
It sounded a bit like one of those infamous reality TV scandals.
The only difference was the mastermind. In this case, he was wondering who the mastermind even was.
In those other scandals, everyone knew who was pulling the strings but couldn’t say a word; they just had to look the other way and comnt on the weather.
The Baron looked to Victor, who nodded. "He’s telling the truth."
The Baron raised an eyebrow. ’Does this an the Iron Thorn Gang wasn’t behind it?’
’That reporter was probably one of theirs.’
Before he could ask, Yalilan spoke up. "Who was that reporter?"
"Well..." Allen’s Father suddenly began to stamr. "I..."
Allen’s Mother glanced at her children, then at her husband. As if resigning herself to her fate, she said,
"I don’t rember her face. I just know it was a woman wearing a pitch-black cloak. Judging by her voice, she sounded like she was in her twenties or thirties."
"She claid to be a reporter for a paper, looking to dig up so explosive news, which is why she gave my husband and the idea."
’A woman in her twenties or thirties? And they don’t rember her face? Could she have used so kind of Magic to conceal her appearance? Sothing like a ’Face-Concealing Cloak’?’
The Baron frowned. This wasn’t a very useful clue. It clearly wasn’t enough to pin this on the Iron Thorn Gang.
"Were there any important features? Or did she say anything distinctive?"
"’Features...’" A look of recollection crossed Allen’s Mother’s face, but she eventually shook her head. "I can’t recall a thing."
Seeing the disappointnt on the Baron’s face, and hoping for lenient treatnt—as well as revenge on the reporter whose sick joke had brought her family to this point—
Allen’s Mother quickly added, "Wait, there was one thing she said that I rember. I think it was during your match with Gawain.
She said, ’How could *he* be a Dragon Knight?’"
The Baron’s pupils constricted sharply.
’How could *he* be a Dragon Knight?’
The others repeated the phrase, not understanding its significance.
Victor gave a slight cough. "Gawain put in an imnse amount of hardship and effort to beco a Dragon Knight. For her to say sothing like that only proves how clueless this reporter is."
’Ahem...’ The weight in his chest finally lifted.
Seeing the topic had shifted, the Baron set aside the reporter’s cryptic words for the mont. He seized the opportunity to have Mayor Lewis order the dispersal of the ever-growing crowd of onlookers.
Once the crowd had mostly dispersed, only a few powerful figures remained, so familiar and so not.
He imdiately pressed, "And this old acquaintance?"
"I don’t know," Allen’s Father said.
’Are you fucking kidding ?’
Seeing the Baron’s astonishnt, Allen’s Father hurriedly explained,
"It was during the Faith War, in Haiwede..."
"’The Faith War? The first one or the second?’" Maguire piped up.
Everyone turned to stare at him in silence. "..."
Maguire realized what an idiotic question he’d just asked and gave an awkward laugh. "Right, right. It must have been the first Faith War."
Everyone stared.
Zod stepped forward and patted Maguire’s shoulder. "Good point. Now, no more talking."
The Baron gestured for Allen’s Father to continue. After a mont’s pause, the man went on.
"The Second Faith War. The 72nd Emperor Prole sent troops to suppress the Pure Church.
I answered the call and served as a rcenary in the Gillian Expeditionary Corps No. 33.
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