Chương 155: 69. Where Do They Come From?

I do my best to spare them the grisly details while explaining what happened to us when we first escaped the convergence point. We were lost, alone, and scared, and couldn't communicate with Lady Kiera or her entourage. Our attempts alarmed them, and they attacked—we defended ourselves. Even trying to be as broad and objective as possible, I still relive every moment.

I don't describe the details of our fight, but I can still smell the blood and burning flesh—still see the light fading from the Priestess' eyes as I drive my knife into her heart again and again. By the time I finish my story, I can feel the walls closing in around me and the crushing weight of everyone's attention squeezing the breath out of my lungs. Tamara Goa Baanu's eyes are cold as she listens, and when she speaks it's not with judgment, but disbelief.

"It's quite brave of you to try defending Sir Draga by taking responsibility, but you did not slay Lady Kiera or her bodyguards," she says.

"Perhaps the young acolyte studying under her, Kellah—if you caught him unguarded. But you were still only tier one, were you not?" Faarah frowns slightly.

"I'm not inclined to make assumptions based entirely on tier, but it does seem unlikely. Sir Reyna was a high level inquisitor." Talla, who knows how we defeated them, tries to make herself as small as possible, but it's the Alchemist who saves us from having to explain everything.

"Let's just assume for a moment that they are telling the truth," he says.

"We won't get anywhere if we second guess everything. I think it's worth asking why they attacked Maev in the first place." Neither Lady Faarah nor Lady Goa are satisfied with that, but Erik nods in agreement.

"For now, let's just take our information at face value," he suggests.

"There's been tension between the inquisitors and the orthodoxy for some time. In theory, Lady Kiera's marriage to Reyna was meant as a way to bridge that gap, but it could be that the two of them had conflicting goals for the expedition."

"We couldn't understand the language yet, but it looked like he was acting against her orders," I add. Lady Goa purses her lips and takes a drink.

"That does put a bit of a hole in my theory that the church has been working with the Gaa family to maintain the convergence point."

"Only a small one," the Alchemist muses.

"Aside from myself, the only ones who could be aware of the ritual site within that dungeon should be the cult remnants, the inquisition, and the Gaa family." Naturally, that sparks all sorts of questions about what he's talking about, but I appreciate him drawing attention to himself again. It gives me a chance to collect myself while he brings the others up to speed about the cult and their involvement in the convergence point.

There really are a lot of interwoven threads here, and it's difficult to pick everything apart. It's odd that the Alchemist would specifically single out the Gaa family. I suppose it's because they used to have ties to the cult, assuming that Lady Gaa was telling the truth about that. What stands out the most to me is the inquisition. Maybe it's my own personal biases and assumptions showing, but I'd assumed that the church was a lot more monolithic.

The idea that different branches might act independently of each other, much less against each other hadn't really occurred to me. I assumed that learning more about the church meant learning more about the inquisition as well, but now I realize that it's actually a pretty huge gap in our knowledge. We know almost nothing about them. I say as much once the Alchemist is finished with his explanations.

"Hm, the inquisition?" Lady Goa muses.

"They've been quiet since the war. They are of the opinion that religious doctrine should be enforced by the will of the Empress, but it is not, so they are relatively toothless."

"Talla said that they'd be involved in quelling rebellion," I comment.

"I did," Talla confirms.

"The church handles a lot of the internal crises within the empire, while the military focuses on foreign threats. The inquisition is their militant wing, so they're usually the first to act in the event of a rebellion." A militant arm of the church, unsatisfied with the amount of power they currently have, but still the first to get involved in civil unrest. A picture is starting to form, but I'm still missing pieces.

I continue my recounting of our journey—meeting the rangers, fighting the demon, and losing Saban. The Alchemist has some insights about the demon.

"You won't hear this from the church, but they are essentially the same class of entity as [Angels] or [Guardians]," he explains.

"Less structured, and unable to directly interface with the [World Engine], but powerful enough to craft their own templates and modules. You're lucky that the one you encountered was just a baby."

"That was just a baby?" I ask incredulously. He nods.

"Not that they reproduce in that sense, but yes. Lady Faarah can tell you more about real demons than I." The grandmistress of the rangers sighs and shakes her head.

"I don't know about all that other stuff, but a fully established demon is a national threat, or worse. Most of the ones we face are newborns like that one—even young or adolescent demons are high tier problems."

"Where do they come from?" I ask.

"And how did that one appear?"

"Nobody knows," Talla sighs.

"Unless someone happens to know the answer to this one along with everything else." She glares pointedly at the Alchemist, who just shrugs.

"It's theoretically possible to artificially create one, but otherwise I have no idea. They seem to just spontaneously form at convergence points sometimes." So he doesn't know everything. I was starting to wonder. The rest of our tale goes more or less uninterrupted, which is a bit disappointing. I'd been hoping for more insight on the bandits and the two seemingly unrelated attacks, but it turns out that Lady Goa was just waiting for me to finish.

"I have reason to believe that the ones arming potential rebels are also behind those attacks," she says.

"I had Sir Draga do some digging for me, and while there are three distinct groups involved, there is some overlap and cooperation between them."

"What groups are these?" Faarah asks, furrowing her brows.

"They are largely decentralized," the matriarch explains.

"But in his investigations, Draga identified them by their demeanors—one group is very tight-lipped and refuses to be persuaded by any means. These ones, we've only identified after capture. The second are simply dissidents—ordinary citizens unsatisfied with their place in the empire. Likely, they are being manipulated by the other two." She drums her fingers on her cup and frowns.

"The final group is the most concerning," she continues.

"They are... zealous. Extremely fervent in their beliefs—to the point of fanaticism. What exactly those beliefs are, is unclear." Her eyes flick up to meet mine.

"Aside from the fact that it has something to do with Maev." The Alchemist raises a glass and smiles sardonically.

"I do believe those would be our cultists. Some things never change." So three loosely connected factions—rebels, cultists, and a mysterious third party. It's hard to remember details of the first attack, given that we were drunk, but one thing that I distinctly recall is that the man who held us hostage was shot by one of his own supposed allies. The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

I've always thought that was strange, but Lady Goa's explanation has finally filled in one of the key pieces that we've been missing. If I had to guess, the man that was shot was either a cultist or a rebel, and the women I fought were from this unknown third party. He was expendable—perhaps even a liability—once they had me in custody, so they removed him. If my theory is right, then this third party is the one calling the actual shots—driving things from behind the scenes.

A group with unique access to the criminal underworld, motivation to incite rebellion, knowledge of the convergence point—including the cult ritual—disdain for their co-conspirators, and perhaps most damning of all, a religious hatred of us as a so-called "demon."

"Lady Tamara Goa Baanu, when we first met, you suggested that the Gaa family had been cultivating the convergence point with the full cooperation of the church," I remind her.

"I recall, yes."

"What if it was all the church?" I suggest.

"More specifically, the inquisition."

"That's not possible!" Eva insists.

"They would never involve themselves in such heresy!"

"That seems rather unlikely," the matriarch muses.

"There's little they are more opposed to than cultists or rebels. I could see them working with Gaa to acquire a potential asset to compete with Sir Al here, but not with their sworn enemies." The Alchemist laughs.

"You nobles are really so concerned with little old me?" She gives him an unimpressed glare.

"More than ever, after today, yes. The social and economic impacts of your inventions have been an ongoing challenge to the established order, even ours—for all we try to encourage progress and innovation."

"Purely unintentional, I assure you," he replies with a smile that suggests the exact opposite.

"It makes sense!" I insist.

"A corrupt church is—" The looks of doubt I receive from the room bring me up short. Even Talla looks uncertain of my theory, and the only one actually considering my theory is the Alchemist, who isn't exactly rushing to my defense.

"I don't have the words," I admit. It's one thing to see the solution, but actually explaining it is hard enough when I'm not struggling with the language at the same time.

"I do," Allie says.

"I think I know what you're trying to say. Can I try telling them?"

"Please," I mutter. I crack my knuckles and slap my cheeks to hype myself up. If I have to explain this in court, then this will be nothing. Just a practice run. Al is leaning on one elbow and just watching me with a mix of curiosity and amusement. I don't like how hard it is for me to figure him out, but I'm going to ignore that for now.

"Okay, let me see here..." I begin.

"Forget about ideals for a second—there's a much more obvious reason why the inquisition would do something like this. You said it yourself, Lady Tamara." She raises an eyebrow at me curiously, but doesn't interrupt.

"They've been quiet since the war, right?" I clarify.

"Their ideals aren't enforced by the state, which leaves them toothless. Nobody wants to be powerless, especially not a militant organization. So how do you, as a paramilitary organization, gain power and legitimacy during a time of peace?" Tamara purses her lips.

"You start a war..." I snap my fingers and point at her.

"Exactly! But it can't be a big war—then it would just be the military. In fact, they need to discredit the military anyway, to make sure that they are the ones who come out on top—maybe by blaming them for mishandling a bunch of alchemical arms that ended up in the hands of rebels?"

"But then how did those guns end up in rebel hands?" Faarah asks.

"It was probably just a real smuggling operation," I suggest.

"Long since discovered and shut down. After all, whose job would it be to investigate something like that?" Erik strokes his chin thoughtfully.

"Normally, the military, but during wartime, while they're busy abroad..."

"The inquisition," Tamara finishes, now narrowing her eyes as she starts putting together the same puzzle that Violet already figured out. They aren't slow—just biased. They've got expectations about the establishments they know that we don't.

"But working with cultists?" Talla asks.

"The guns need to be distributed somehow," I remark, "and taking advantage of the remnants of the Gaa family's shameful secret is an excellent way to distract the noble families and spark infighting."

"And if any organization would be familiar with how to contact rebels and cultists, it would be them," Erik adds.

"Plus, they're perfect pawns," I conclude.

"Once an uprising starts, the inquisition can withdraw all their support and focus on crushing the 'threat' that they've manufactured—but not before expanding their power. Maybe letting a few of their rivals get taken down a peg and 'temporarily' stepping in to take control." Tamara crosses her arms and purses her lips.

"It's... sound. I don't like how plausible that is at all. Just how long would they have to have been planning this? Since before the current Grand Inquisitor was promoted, surely."

"Who is the leader of the inquisitors, actually?" I ask.

"Lady Sabaah Shaa Baanu," she answers.

"The matriarch of the Shaa family, though she's been out of the public eye for some time."

"She was present at the tribunal today," Faarah interjects.

"Just as an observer. I thought it was unusual to see her, but it's an odd case and I, ah, may have insulted her daughter." Talla rolls her eyes.

"As if it's even possible to speak of Mira truthfully without insulting her. With respect, Grandmistress, why is she even still a ranger?" Faarah downs another cup of wine and sighs.

"For the same reason you are."

"Wait, what?!" Talla protests.

"I don't think I've done anything to earn your ire, have I?"

"No," she admits.

"But the drama between you and Mira is bad for the order. I can't remove either of you without removing both of you, and that would insult two entire noble families."

"Then why am I the one whose tier keeps being held back?!" Talla demands. I suspect that this is a grievance she's wanted a chance to air with the Grandmistress for some time.

"Two reasons," Faarah answers without hesitation.

"First, because while your family is arguably more powerful, the inquisition is already at odds with our order and giving them more excuses to antagonize us is a bigger problem than mildly inconveniencing you—and Mira would absolutely raise a bigger fuss than you would."

"That hardly seems fair," Talla grumbles.

"You're basically rewarding her bad behavior."

"I don't like it either, but that's the reality we live in. Second," she nods towards Talla's mother.

"She asked me to." Talla immediately shoots Lady Goa a betrayed look.

"Mother?!" Tamara Goa Baanu sips her wine calmly before responding.

"I'm happy to support your efforts to broaden your horizons and learn some practical skills. But you are still my heir—I do what I must to keep you safe." I raise a hand timidly, and Tamara gestures for me to speak.

"Um, isn't Mira also the heir to her family?" I ask.

"You'd think her mother would do the same." Faarah shrugs.

"Either she has different priorities, or just doesn't care. Lady Shaa has never directly interceded on her daughter's behalf. I'd just rather not give her a reason to." The Alchemist claps his hands once, drawing mostly irritated glares from the assembled nobles, but nevertheless getting their attention.

"This little drama is lovely and all, but I believe there's one more question that needs answering," he says.

"Let us assume that the inquisition plans to incite a rebellion, uprising, or civil war of some kind—how do we suppose they plan to instigate it?" To my surprise, it's Evie who answers first—not that most of them can hear her.

"A high profile execution of an innocent commoner to cover for a noble's failure would likely enrage anybody with dissident sympathies."

"Maybe," Vi muses,"but I doubt just killing Draga is going to be enough to cause a riot."

"Unless somebody already did the legwork of handing out guns to a bunch of rowdy rebels and insane fanatics," Maggie counters.

"Probably riled them up too."

"Um..." I begin nervously.

"How likely do you think it is that they would set Draga up to be their martyr?" Tamara's expression darkens immediately, and she turns to Faarah with a full-on scowl.

"Lady Faarah, who did you say the arbiter assigned to your case is?"

"Lady Ima Dou Baanu," she replies.

"I've never heard of her, but she doesn't seem biased." Erik coughs once into his fist, grimacing.

"Not in favor of the Gaa family, nor associated with the rangers. But she is a low ranking inquisitor."

"Well then," Al chuckles.

"I suppose that means that either Maev is correct, or someone desperately wants us to think she is. So what can we do to prevent it?" Lady Tamara stares into her cup for a moment, her eyes flickering sideways to her daughter in a rare moment of vulnerability before she sets it down and grimaces.

"I'm not sure that we can, at this point," she admits.

"We have a solid theory, but no proof."

"Mom?" Talla's voice is quiet and concerned.

"Give me some time to consider this," Tamara says, snapping back into her usual firm demeanor.

"By tomorrow, I'll have made my decision. Sir Al, you may stay here as a guest tonight—we can discuss business later."

"My pleasure," he replies with a bow.

"So... that's it?" I ask, a little disappointed.

"You did well to put all of this together," she says.

"But yes—it's out of your hands. I'll inform you if there's anything else you can do. Until then, continue as you have and do your best to advocate for Sir Draga." I guess we'll just have to take it.

"Come on," Al says, offering me a hand as he stands to leave.

"Leave the nobles to their games of power. I think you and I have a few more things to discuss between ourselves in the meantime."