Capgras Syndrome (2)

"Arresting my father, no—the head of the family? What do you mean by that?"

Ferdinand weakly resisted as he asked. Godric responded with a very regretful expression.

"Think rationally, young count. Your father has been away from El Dante. Even if there is a checkpoint, it will only reveal the one in disguise. You already know it is impossible to identify someone who has already eaten people and assimilated with such a rudimentary ritual."

"However…"

"In this case, there aren't many ways to identify the assimilated one. Archbishop Butier, you should know well, shouldn't you? Didn't you play a significant role during the erosion?"

Likewise, Archbishop Boutier, who was under the same strict surveillance as the others, explained to the crowd.

"…The assimilated one is less affected by holy water, so holy water cannot be the answer. In such cases, the only way is to test the suspect to see if the inhuman nature of the corrupted one is revealed."

The archbishop, who maintained a firm demeanour despite his slightly disheveled white hair, turned back to the king and spoke without backing down.

"But Your Majesty, surely you haven't forgotten. A healing priest loses their divinity if they are assimilated. Therefore, verifying whether a priest has been consumed is relatively easy."

"Ah."

Godric spoke slowly, as if he had momentarily forgotten. The king then smiled benevolently.

"In that case, it should be simpler for you to prove."

In this situation, for Butier to prove his innocence, he would have to wound someone. Since priests cannot heal their own bodies, it would be natural for Godric, who had seized control during the chaos, to have one of his attendants volunteer.

However, Godric hesitated for a moment.

"Young Count."

Then he subtly shifted the responsibility of finding a test subject to Ferdinand. Even though it would have been more appropriate for Godric to conduct the process from start to finish to firmly grasp authority in the chaos. It was only a brief hesitation, but it was clearly unnatural.

'All those in the royal procession are people who have been consumed and assimilated. Then why doesn't Godric have one of his attendants volunteer?'

'Is it because Butier's healing power doesn't work on it? Just like how I am unaffected by holy water?'

His mind spun dizzyingly.

'No. It can't be just that simple.'

Its regenerative power is beyond imagination. It could easily pretend to heal naturally after Butier inflicts a superficial wound and makes a show of exerting some power.

'There must be some restriction.'

A common restriction shared by those who are assimilated…

[! Status Abnormality – This entity is under the effect of the special ability, . (Caster: ■■■)]

'Or could it be a restriction only on entities under the influence of ?'

He recalls the distant past, the first time he witnessed something under the influence of .

The night Count Bermont came to Sinistra and visited his five injured subordinates who were staying at my inn.

Bermont had fed his hired men to it.

'At that time, Leonardo had already snapped their bones. Those who were fed to it healed with astonishing speed…'

Wait a minute.

No, there was definitely something before that.

The sound of a finger snapping rang clearly in his mind, illuminating the memory.

[Start by healing your bodies.]

Yes, Count Bermont had supplied his subordinates to it, turning them into assimilated beings, but they were still dull-witted!

So, before Bermont snapped his fingers and commanded them, they didn't heal the non-lethal wounds on their own.

Count Bermont had also mentioned that entities under the influence of become exceedingly simple-minded…

'Could that be why Godric hesitated?'

The realization that is not as perfect as it seems. His mind spun with hypotheses.

Still hiding behind the pillar, he watched as Ferdinand stepped forward himself, saying, "I volunteer," instead of ordering one of his subordinates.

Ferdinand rolled up his sleeve and drew a long cut with a sword. As the blade passed, blood droplets began to form, and in no time, crimson blood flowed down and pooled on the floor.

Count Ertinez, who stood pinned by the watchful eyes of the onlookers, showed a flicker of unrest on his face.

Soon, Butier raised his hand and swept it over Ferdinand's arm. The flowing blood stopped, and the gaping wound closed seamlessly.

Godric lowered his gaze to the red streak of blood, then calmly proclaimed, "Very well. Butier, your innocence is proven here."

"…"

"But you are the only one cleared of suspicion. You and the Count's expedition joined midway, so how can we easily trust you? For the sake of El Dante's people, I hope you understand. Sir Orlie, you as well."

It was suggested that when the Count explained how he met Butier and Orlie, Orlie had rescued him from his plight, implying that perhaps Orlie, already assimilated, had encountered the Count and consumed him. Thus, the only one recognized as human was Archbishop Butier.

"Then how do you intend to verify the others?"

Butier asked as he turned slightly, looking at the knights, Count Ertinez, and Orlie. Godric closed his eyes as if pondering deeply.

And then, in that moment, I discerned something from Godric's expression. The reason why this king, who feigned benevolence and kindness, felt so unsettling.

'He is fabricating everything.'

He was pretending.

Like an actor on stage, he calculated his actions and performed. Every gesture was made with an awareness of the gazes upon him. It was unclear whether this was simply because he was a monarch who could never escape the eyes of many, or if there was another reason. But one thing was certain.

"We cannot pour boiling oil on a great noble like Count Ertinez, nor can we bind his limbs and throw him into the water… Ah, yes. The trial of fasting would be appropriate."

Since the moment he entered El Dante, Godric has been acting.

The way he breathes, the timing of his blinks, even the fleeting moments between the start and end of his sentences. All meticulously calculated. Nothing genuine, only deception.

"Count, you are to endure five days without water or food. If you survive unscathed, it will prove your humanity. If you experience the brink of death, it will show that you are human, having endured such a trial."

Godric commanded in a stern tone.

"Do you accept?"

"Father…"

Celestina clutched her hands in fear, her face pale. Ferdinand was equally frozen, barely able to breathe. Observing his children, the Count bowed deeply.

"…I accept."

As if he had expected this, Godric smoothly issued his command.

"Young Count, please arrange a suitable place to detain the Count. The watch will be carried out in three shifts by my royal guards and the knights you personally select. For the sake of fairness, I trust you understand."

There was a subtle insinuation in his words that Ferdinand might let his judgment be clouded because of family ties. Now that the Count had lost his power, it planted doubt about Ferdinand's judgment as the lord's proxy.

"This concludes the banquet."

The king skillfully ended the proceedings, maintaining his authoritative grip to the end.

[Reconstructing 'Take 2' based on the given content. The arbitrary condition, 'End the banquet,' has been met, thus concluding this scenario.]

[Returning .]

[Time remaining until the next scenario input: '119 hours 59 minutes 55 seconds.']

With this, Sub-writer 1 had gained a five-day window to detain the Count in his own territory and search for the clues of the grand plot.

As for us?

I quietly exchanged glances with Leonardo. His eyes were more subdued than usual, a dull grey, and his hands were clenched tightly, the tendons straining. I could now clearly tell—it was the original Leonardo.

And without a word, we both arrived at the same conclusion.

There was no time.

***

Amidst the chaotic atmosphere, the banquet came to an end, and the residence for Archbishop Butier and King Godric was set to be the Nidum Tower.

While isolating the suspects and managing the hundreds of guests flooding into the castle, the commotion was far from ideal. The day had been so overwhelmingly busy that Ferdinand would surely be unable to sleep.

Meanwhile, we, relying on the chaos, gathered again in the same place after just a few hours.

"Haa…"

In just one day, the events that had unfolded felt as though they had stretched over several days, with time warping and fluctuating unpredictably. As I swept my hand through my tired hair, Leonardo quietly guided me to a chair.

The moment when the original Leonardo appeared was brief, just a moment when our eyes met. In the blink of an eye, he was replaced again by the silver-eyed version I knew, who stayed by my side. He lightly rubbed my cold hand, noting the chill.

Raul, who had slipped in unnoticed, occupied the corner sofa. For some reason, he glanced at us for a moment, then buried his face in the backrest of the sofa as if he had seen something he shouldn't have.

Meanwhile, Vittorio was glancing out the window, observing the situation.

I knew he was still diligently performing the tasks I had given him earlier, wanting to be of help in whatever way he could. I gestured for him to come closer, but just as I was about to call him over, Vittorio suddenly stood up.

"Someone's here."

"At this hour?"

Raul, still sitting, quietly reached for his calf, a subtle but telling movement.

Since the creature had roamed the banquet hall earlier, Raul had been showing a sharper side of himself, one I had never seen before. It was clear he was regaining his instincts, adapting to the need for alertness in the front lines.

Leonardo, ever keen, picked up the sound of approaching footsteps and raised his head.

Before the figure even appeared, Leonardo called out the name first.

"Celestina."