Chapter 1145: Chapter 8: The Authenticity of the Past

Lebius lowered his head to review the documents, and as more and more information flooded his mind, his gaze became increasingly serious, his chest felt confused, and a bizarre sense of heat surged through his bloodstream.

"Ha... this is really bad." Lebius murmured.

"What’s wrong?"

As the voice sounded, the newcomer pushed the door open, Lebius looked up, sized up the visitor, and said, "I’m still not used to seeing you like this."

Geoffrey adjusted the glasses on his nose and said, "I’m also not used to seeing you in a wheelchair."

The two fell silent for a moment and then laughed quietly together.

The Decline Event had dealt both of them a massive blow, leaving Lebius paralyzed and confined to a wheelchair, relying on the Power of Command to move. Geoffrey fared slightly better, but only just.

Attempting to stall the Seeker of Glory’s power, the overloaded Alchemy Matrix caused Geoffrey’s eyes to bloodshot, leading to a temporary blindness while he was also doubly baptized by the Age-Stealing Mist and the Decline Event.

These days Geoffrey’s hair had gained many more streaks of white, with wrinkles adding to his face, making him seem older by several years, but his most significant change was the adoption of thicker glasses, as the backlash of the Alchemy Matrix had impaired his eyesight.

Ultimately, Geoffrey had not been able to retire, and like Lebius, he bid farewell to frontline combat, drawing on his previous experience in the Logistics Department to help share Lebius’s workload pressure.

"Apart from the rise of the Rebellious Royal Court, the calamity in the Abandoned Land is the most pressing matter right now. Once the blaze of light extinguishes, the balance of the seal will be completely broken, and this monster will escape its cage. By then... this city will face yet another destruction."

Again?

Upon noticing this word, Lebius couldn’t help but smile bitterly himself, Oubos was indeed fraught with misfortune, like a vortex attracting all sorts of demons and monsters.

"Relax a bit, Lebius," Geoffrey consoled, "at least we don’t have to be on the front lines anymore, such days are really comfortable."

Bologue was officially appointed as the team leader, yet most orders still came through Lebius. Nowadays, Bologue was more like a super ace operative, and the two of them could lazily lie in the office and handle most of their work easily and comfortably.

The faint light of Ether lit up, and an illusory Ether projection appeared behind Lebius, moving his wheelchair on its own, pushing Lebius away from the desk.

"Where are you going?" Geoffrey asked.

"To see the Minister; there’s a report and I want to present it to him personally."

As Lebius spoke, two Blade-Biting Wolves stood up from the corner, following closely behind Lebius as they opened the door for him under his command.

Though paralyzed, Lebius’s mobility became even more convenient under the power of Ether. Belli even suggested installing some external skeletons and mechanical arms for him, but Lebius loathed adding unnecessary objects to his body; he preferred directly controlling domination objects.

While Lebius advanced, a door suddenly emerged on the Cultivation Room’s wall, then opened to reveal a pitch-black space.

Audience Chamber.

The most secretive space besides the Decision Room, immune to Belphegor’s prying, which also effectively served as Nesanel’s office.

Even Nesanel needed a space of his own to vent accumulated emotions.

No one is truly an iron man; at our core, we’re all fragile beings of flesh and blood.

After a brief moment of darkness, vague light brightened up, and Lebius saw Nesanel, who had been waiting for a long time.

After the Decline Event, everyone went through changes, Nesanel included.

No longer was there the ever-confident smile, the strong aura reminiscent of a lion that Nesanel once possessed as he appeared before Lebius now, seemingly older, filled with a sense of defeat. The scent of liquor lingered around Nesanel, with his bloodshot eyes pervaded with doubt and confusion.

Nesanel was no longer elusive, the previous courteous and composed demeanor had vanished; nowadays, Nesanel spent most of his time alone in the Audience Chamber, brooding as if plotting something.

As someone experienced in the secret war, Lebius could to a certain extent understand Nesanel’s mood, but deeper, with regard to information about those involved, he knew nothing.

Nesanel raised his head and noticed Lebius’s arrival, showing no change in expression.

Long before it all began, Nesanel seemed to have compromised and agreed to the orders of the involved party, carrying Xilin’s body to the battlefield. At that moment, Nesanel had already vaguely anticipated what would occur. Yet when Xilin truly resurrected, standing alive before him once more, an overwhelming suffocating sense inevitably seeped into his heart.

Even knowing the secret war was a deception, Nesanel couldn’t help but feel doubt seeped deep into his bones, leaving him questioning as to what purpose his actions served.

Nesanel often mocked himself by pondering; even if he became a Seeker of Glory, it would be merely a pitiful pawn.

"Minister, I’ve obtained the thing you wanted."

Lebius approached Nesanel, handing over a document.

Nesanel accepted the document, glancing at Lebius, "Don’t you want to ask me something?"

"What do you mean?"

"This secret operation... it wasn’t a command from the Decision Room, but a private request from me," Nesanel said, "it’s clearly against protocols, and you’re someone who adheres to the guidelines."

Lebius showed no change in expression, "I simply share the same curiosity as you, Minister."

Nesanel’s wandering gaze solidified for a moment, as Lebius continued, "Actually, upon carefully reconsidering the course of the Decline Event, we entirely had the capability to stop Xilin’s resurrection. For instance, from the beginning placing his corpse in the Cultivation Room instead of carrying it to such a dangerous place.

Given my trust in the Decision Room, I also believe it wouldn’t make such a foolish decision... unless it’s precisely the effect the Decision Room wanted."

Lebius continued, "With your experience, you inevitably feel dissatisfaction about this, although this doesn’t amount to betraying the Decision Room, it certainly fills you with doubt, and I share this sentiment, with you, Minister."

Glancing at the document in Nesanel’s hands, "You know more secrets than I do, for example, I am unsure as to why this curiosity points towards Bologue, but it doesn’t matter much, for I am deeply curious about Bologue’s origins too."

"Should I say your reaction is just as I anticipated?" Nesanel remarked in a low voice.

Lebius merely smiled.

Opening the document, flipping through briefly, and while reading, Lebius spoke, "I had previously chatted with Bologue about his childhood. He mentioned he came from a place called Redwood Town."

"Bologue’s vivid description and genuine emotions didn’t seem like a lie, but I searched through a lot of materials yet couldn’t find any such place. At one point, I suspected he was deceiving me, but he had no reason to concoct such a lie to fool me. The more said, the more loopholes there would be. Given Bologue’s character, he could very well refuse to discuss it with me."

"Verifying Bologue’s past authenticity is simple; you just need to find another person from Redwood Town," Nesanel said.

"But it’s not easy operationally. According to our calculations, from Bologue’s birth to now, over eighty years have elapsed, and Redwood Town has completely vanished from the map. The individuals who once lived there have mostly passed away."

Lebius took a deep breath, "Fortunately, I managed it. After overcoming countless obstacles, we found a needle in a haystack and finally identified someone from Redwood Town. According to the materials and comparisons, he even enlisted together with Bologue back then."

Nesanel nodded, having already seen the details of that person and the related information in the report.

"Where is he now?"

"Right within Oubos."