Chapter 157: Shocking News

Gilbert's gauntleted fingers trembled slightly, the metal scraping softly against the ground as he stirred. His eyelids felt unbearably heavy; he tried to blink twice but couldn't open them.

His mind was a blur, his consciousness muddled. Strangely, however, he wasn't in much pain.

As he gradually regained awareness, his first reaction was terror. His last remaining memory was of failing to push the Destroyer-class automaton off the cliff. In those final moments, the last shred of his consciousness had been drowned by the horrifying mental corruption he had endured.

Almost instinctively, he began to search his memory to check if any vital parts were missing. Since he could still think rationally, it meant that Heaven's Gloom hadn't anchored him into a mindless husk. However, the mental attack could still have robbed him of cherished and irreplaceable memories.

He carefully combed through his life experiences as his thoughts cleared. There were no glaring gaps in his memory. Could he really have been fortunate enough to survive an attack of this magnitude without suffering any lasting damage?

Gradually, he regained control over his body, and the lingering weakness in his limbs was slowly fading. Beneath his still-closed eyelids, his eyeballs rolled forcefully, straining to move. Eventually, a tiny slit of light pierced through as his heavy lids cracked open slightly.

Even in darkness, the scene before him entered the eyes of this devoted follower of the Lady of the Night. The ground beyond the cliff stretched out before him, unchanged. Nearest to him still lay the remains of the Destroyer-class automaton. Its alchemical core had been pierced through, and its body had imploded.

He tried to move something—anything—besides his eyelids, but his body refused to obey him. His arm trembled faintly, the fabric of his clothing rustling softly before falling silent again. Gilbert struggled to force himself into motion. He still didn't understand his current situation, and his years of experience as a Nightblade had instilled in him a deep-seated vigilance. He needed to assess his surroundings, and quickly.

The area remained eerily silent. What had happened to his teammates? Had the mental corruption been detected by those stationed at the outpost? Were reinforcements already on their way?

Suddenly, a series of light, rapid footsteps reached Gilbert's ears. His breath hitched. Someone was approaching—no, not just one person. Could the reinforcements have arrived already?

Something was wrong. If these were Nightblade reinforcements, they would have confirmed the status of their comrades as soon as they approached. At the very least, they would be calling out loudly to check if anyone was still conscious. Every second counted in a rescue. But given the situation at hand...

As clarity returned to his mind, Gilbert's battlefield instincts—wisdom honed from years of dancing on the boundary between life and death—kicked in. He recalled the bizarre nature of the sudden appearance of the Destroyer-class automaton and the inexplicably high concentration of mental corruption within it. A different possibility came to mind.

He immediately stopped trying to move, suppressing any sound that might give him away. Instead, he focused entirely on listening and tracking the newcomers' movements while carefully testing which parts of his body he could still control. His uncooperative muscles began to twitch slightly.

The steady, unhurried footsteps drew closer. A tense weight settled in Gilbert's chest. If they intended to finish him off, there was nothing he could do to resist in his current state.

His only hope was that they wouldn't bother, or that he could recover enough control of his body before they struck.

"As expected, the mental contamination released after the vessel was destroyed was enough to incapacitate these Nightblades. They should all have triggered the anchor of Heaven's Gloom—every single soul among them is damaged."

"Mmm. Even from a distance, I could feel the residual shockwaves from and instinctive terror of that mental corruption. I can only imagine how desperate these Nightblades must have been facing it up close. The Destroyer-class automaton was a good vessel, wasn't it? Everything seems to have gone as planned, but... why has the mental corruption faded...?"

Multiple voices entered Gilbert's ears. The speakers seemed convinced that the sudden eruption of corruption had completely shattered the sanity of every Nightblade present. They spoke amongst themselves, unaware that he had regained consciousness.

Gilbert's mind raced. In truth, their assumption wasn't wrong. Gilbert himself didn't understand why his mind had survived the contamination. He was certain he shouldn't have woken up this quickly.

The footsteps drew even closer. Someone approached. He heard the sound of the automaton's remains being shifted—someone was examining the wreckage.

"The core is destroyed. That confirms it—it can take over a vessel, even an artificial one. This was just a test run, but the cadaver we prepared for it should work just fine. We can run more experiments later."

The voice was close—too close. Whoever was speaking had crouched down beside the wreckage, their voice practically in Gilbert's ear.

"The results are promising. The royal family will be pleased. What should we do with these Nightblades? Kill them all?" A new voice chimed in from a short distance away.

The casual suggestion of mass execution sent a bolt of urgency through Gilbert's mind. The surge of adrenaline allowed him to reclaim more control over his body. His fists clenched tightly. He would not go down without a fight. Even if he died, he'd take some of them with him.

No, no—that wasn't the priority! He had to ensure that someone from the Nightblades received this information.

These people had just revealed something critical. The others had to know—Captain Hugin had to know.

But if they decided to kill him now, there was no way he could get the message out. How? How could he—Wait. There was a way, wasn't there? Before he lost consciousness, he had prayed to the Lady of the Night. The prayer had gone unanswered then. But now that he was awake, perhaps...

"Great Lady of the Night, hear my plea. I ask that you deliver the words I have heard to my comrades."

In truth, he wasn't expecting a response. His faith in the Lady of the Night was still new and weak. Even though she was known to be generous and kind, why would she answer a follower as unworthy as him?

To his shock, a voice immediately echoed in his mind—but it wasn't the voice of a goddess. Instead, it was a voice he knew well.

"Gilbert, right? This is Wang Yu from the special ops team. I heard your prayer. Don't be alarmed—I also happen to be the Archbishop of the Lady of the Night. We can talk about my connection with her later. For now, just keep listening. I can hear everything you're hearing.

𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

"Your safety isn't an issue. The Lady of the Night's power will bless you. If they try to kill you, the darkness will protect you. When the opportunity comes—run."

Gilbert had lost count of how many times he had been shocked today. He couldn't fathom why his prayer had been answered not by the Lady of the Night, but by Wang Yu. Even so, this was good news—excellent news! Wang Yu had saved Stevenson Academy of Magic. Gilbert was certain he was someone the Nightblades could trust.

At this moment, Wang Yu was using the Tree of the Night in his mindscape to gather information on Gilbert's side. The words Gilbert heard had been transmitted to Wang Yu through that connection as well.

Just moments ago, Charles had contacted Wang Yu via communication crystal, asking what the hell he was doing and why he was messing with him again with some experiment. Naturally, Wang Yu was baffled. Rather than ignore Charles' questions, however, he carefully inquired about what had happened.

After Charles informed him about the sudden instance of mental contamination, Wang Yu immediately reached out to the Lady of the Night, who revealed to him that a large amount of mental contamination had suddenly emerged from one of her followers and had been distributed among the others.

Using his access to the Tree of the Night, Wang Yu quickly pinpointed the source of the contamination. At that very moment, Gilbert was praying to the Lady of the Night, hoping she would convey what he had heard to the other members of the Nightblades. Without hesitation, Wang Yu responded to his prayer.

Upon receiving Wang Yu's response, Gilbert felt momentarily relieved. He steadied his heartbeat, controlled his breathing, and fully feigned the appearance of someone who had mentally collapsed and fallen into a coma. Trusting his comrades was always the way to go. Since Wang Yu had received the message, his job was simply to play his role well.

"Forget about them. Even though the will that inhabited their bodies was incomplete, with that much mental contamination, they won't be leaking anything. Just leave them be. It'll be troublesome if we act and those rabid dogs among the Nightblades find out. After all, compared to those nobles, the Nightblades are actually useful. We should avoid direct conflict with them for now."

"Alright, then. Given what you're saying, is the royal family planning to move against those nobles?"

"Hmph! They're all a bunch of short-sighted fools. Honestly, the king doesn't even need to lift a finger—left to their own devices, they'd tear each other apart. Remember this: the king doesn't care about whom the throne rests on, but he who rests upon the throne must never change. If those nobles want to fight for status, let them. When the time for reckoning comes, those who ought to be eliminated will be eliminated."

"When will that be?"

"Not yet. For now, they're still useful, and they haven't truly crossed the line. Hopefully, they have enough self-awareness not to. The king indulges them not because he can't deal with them, but because they're more useful as is. After all, the slums by the walls and the capital's shadow owe much of their existence to these people."

Voices continued to echo in Gilbert's ears. The information they revealed sent chills down his spine. The implications were staggering. Were these people part of the royal family? What exactly were they planning? It was unimaginable.

"Have you finished gathering intel? The Nightblades' reinforcements are hitting hard. That group of lunatic Abyssal Cultists can't hold them back much longer. At most, we'll have three minutes. If you don't finish soon, we're pulling out."

The conversation between the two individuals near Gilbert was interrupted by someone farther away. Apparently, the Nightblades reinforcements were heading for him, after all.

"Tch, Abyssal Cultists? Even the nobles' trained dogs are worthless. Whatever. We're done here. Let's retreat."

Under his companion's pressure, whoever was inspecting the Destroyer-class automaton was forced to abandon further examination and withdraw quickly. Facing the Nightblades' reinforcements head-on would be troublesome.

As the sound of footsteps faded, Gilbert's heart, though relieved, grew unbearably heavy. The weight of the information he had just overheard was immense, and he had no idea how to handle it.

"Mr. Gilbert, please keep the information you just gathered confidential for now. Also, please come to the Nightblades' headquarters in the capital later. Captain Hugin and I have matters to discuss with you."

While Gilbert was lost in confusion, Wang Yu's voice echoed in his mind—the same voice that had responded to his prayer to the Lady of the Night. His words provided a temporary reprieve from Gilbert's dilemma.

"Hurry! Move it! Charge! Those damned Abyssal Cultists have already wasted too much of our time. This level of contamination is critical—we have to check on the fallen immediately! I see them—hurry! Administer treatment!"

A furious roar rang out from within the cavern within the cliffside. It was a voice Gilbert knew all too well: that of the old, irritable military doctor who had become the medic for this outpost after retiring. Gilbert had endured countless scoldings from the man, but at this moment, his distinctive shouts felt strangely reassuring.

"This is everything he heard."

Having arrived at Hugin's office through the Gap, Wang Yu relayed Gilbert's words in real time, recounting every detail with a calm demeanor.

After hearing Wang Yu's report, Hugin, who had stormed into the office, fell silent. His gaze lingered on the stack of unfinished documents on his desk, his expression unreadable as he sank into deep thought...