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Chapter 123
🕑 Added 2024-12-22 14:31:31 +0000 UTCLuzurus’s bun-shaped hair bobbed slightly as he muttered, “Uh...”
Instinctively, he turned his head, meeting the gazes of several other surviving nobles.
In that instant, he understood their shared unspoken thought:
"That’s right, it’s something supernatural!!"
Faced with their expectant stares, Luzurus resolutely nodded in agreement.
He absolutely wouldn’t admit that this was a man-made disaster!!
Otherwise, if he spoke the truth, explaining that these individuals had committed countless sins during their lifetimes and were summarily judged and executed by bandits—what then?
Nobles being judged, convicted, and killed by mere bandits? That was an unspeakable humiliation to their kind.
Moreover...
"Our people were judged and executed? Why are you, Luzurus, still alive?!"
"You claim you didn’t commit any heinous acts and were spared? How could that be possible?!"
"You’re a second-generation royal of the Kakin Empire! How could you not be ruthless, cold-blooded, and cruel?!"
"He must have struck a deal with the bandits to save his skin! Or worse, what if he orchestrated this massacre to wipe out the nobles so that Kakin could monopolize power?!"
Luzurus: “...???”
Am I out of my mind to hire bandits to kill nobles?!
Although the theory was absurdly idiotic, Luzurus was certain that such accusations would inevitably arise from all corners of the world.
When people aren’t upset by scarcity but by inequality, everyone else being dead while he alone survived would make him a target of suspicion—and condemnation.
Not to mention that the judgment criteria were based on one’s sins.
Considering the Kakin royal family’s public image, tarnished by his elder siblings’ countless misdeeds, Luzurus wisely chose to remain silent.
And besides, beyond the implications for him personally—
If Morin, the true culprit behind this tragedy, were exposed, it would lead to relentless retaliation and pursuit from the nobles, officials, and wealthy elites of various nations.
If Morin learned that Luzurus’s group had leaked his whereabouts and sought revenge, Luzurus could imagine him descending like a mad specter in the dead of night.
Just picturing that scenario sent a shiver down Luzurus’s spine.
Forget it.
It’s better to pretend none of this ever happened.
This way, the incident could be brushed under the rug, minimizing the damage.
The gathered survivors would have a plausible explanation, and Luzurus and his peers could avoid resentment or interference.
The only downside was that the truth behind the event would be buried forever.
The only real victims were the dead nobles, left without anyone to avenge or mourn them.
As for whether anyone would come forward to seek justice for them?
Luzurus shrugged. “Why would I care about that?!”
And anyway, those scumbags caused plenty of harm in their lifetimes. Good riddance!!
Thus—
With unspoken agreement between Luzurus, the other surviving nobles, and the remaining officials present, the event was officially declared a supernatural disturbance.
As for its cause, they unanimously pinned the blame on the legendary crown of the Mozambia royal family.
Why? Simply because this globally renowned treasure was infamous enough to serve as a plausible scapegoat.
Only something as well-known as the crown could lend credibility to their story.
The crown, previously rumored to have been tainted by the Dark Sonata, was already suspected to be problematic.
When the corpses of the Mozambia royal prince and dowager queen were discovered, it became apparent that the crown had vanished.
After exhaustive but fruitless searches, its disappearance was confirmed.
Only then did the survivors confidently attribute the supernatural disturbance to the crown.
As for whether the Mozambia royal family had any objections—
The newly ascended king, the second prince, tearfully expressed that it didn’t matter.
Suppressing his joy behind a facade of grief, he declared his sadness in a manner so dramatic it could make anyone laugh—or cry.
Privately, the second prince couldn’t care less about the crown’s return.
He was just grateful that fate had handed him an impossible opportunity to rise to power.
Life, after all, was full of uncertainties and dramatic twists!
After coordinating their stories and solidifying their narrative, the incident concluded with a fabricated explanation.
Luzurus and the surviving nobles maintained a single official account:
They had gotten drunk and retired to a private room to rest, waking only after the massacre had already occurred.
No matter who asked, they stuck to the story: “We know nothing! It has nothing to do with us!!”
As for the coalition of seven nations that had planned a joint attack alongside the Mozambia royal family, the alliance crumbled into silence.
The top priority now was to suppress the aftermath and stabilize the situation as quickly as possible.
Thus, with mutual efforts and ulterior motives at play, the disastrous incident in Mozambia Palace was officially swept under the rug and labeled a supernatural disturbance.
This verdict spread across various nations, sparking waves of unrest.
Though some doubted the story’s authenticity, the unified testimony from all involved and Mozambia’s official statement silenced further questions.
In an internationally broadcasted address, the newly crowned second prince, with an expression of exaggerated sorrow, issued an obituary.
With the deaths of his mother and elder brother, the theft of their royal treasure, and the catastrophic failure of the banquet, Mozambia’s reputation plummeted.
By any account, the Mozambia royal family appeared to be the greatest victims.
With the official declaration settling the matter, others had no choice but to move on.
Although a few quietly investigated or tried to pry the truth from survivors like Luzurus, their attempts were fruitless.
The banquet attendees, each influential in their own right, were not easily manipulated.
That said, the paper trail couldn’t be completely erased.
The deaths of so many prominent figures naturally attracted global attention, spawning countless tabloid articles, speculative reports, and fabricated stories.
On his return to the Kakin Empire aboard an airship, Luzurus read these sensationalized stories with great amusement.
Alone in his luxurious cabin, he leisurely browsed the headlines:
“‘This was all a conspiracy by the second prince of Mozambia to secure the throne. He killed his mother and elder brother while using the massacre to cover his tracks.’ Not bad, not bad!”
“‘A guest with dissociative identity disorder lost control and killed everyone before succumbing to madness.’ Hmm, that one’s weak.”
“‘The Kakin Empire’s seventh prince Luzurus colluded with several wealthy elites to orchestrate the massacre.’ Hmm... Hmm?!”
Luzurus’s brows twitched as he sat up, clicking his tongue.
“Utter nonsense!”
He crumpled the newspaper into a ball and tossed it aside.
A servant promptly handed him another paper.
Without noticing, Luzurus accepted it and resumed reading:
“‘The culprit was a dangerous criminal and master hypnotist. After being discovered, he hypnotized the seventh prince and others before fleeing in haste.’ …Oh, come on!”
Luzurus chuckled. “What a load of crap. Hypnosis? Why not say we had our memories erased?!”
A light laugh echoed nearby. “Oh? That’s not entirely impossible.”
Luzurus froze, his hair buns stiffening instantly.
That voice—
He would never forget it. It was etched into his memory after that horrifying night.
Trembling, Luzurus looked up to see a face both familiar and foreign.
Familiar because this man’s commanding presence that night had left an indelible impression.
Foreign because this was only their second meeting, and Luzurus had no prior connection to him.
“You… What are you doing here?!” Luzurus stammered, his scalp tingling.
The man patted his shoulder, his smile calm but chilling. “Relax. If I intended to harm you, you wouldn’t still be alive.”
Luzurus’s body shook. With a forced smile, he nodded stiffly.
“And don’t bother hoping anyone will come to your rescue,” the man added with a smirk. “I’ve hypnotized them all and altered their memories.”
Luzurus: “...”
His forced smile finally crumbled as he let out a defeated groan, tossing the newspaper aside and slumping into the couch in despair.
“What do you want from me?!” he muttered, resigned.
“You’re not here to settle accounts over what happened that night, are you?”
“Settle accounts?” The man raised an eyebrow, amused. “Do you think I’d waste my time on something so trivial?”
Seeing the man casually pull up a chair and sit across from him, Luzurus straightened up, eager to cooperate. “Of course not!!” he exclaimed hastily.
“Then take a guess—why am I here?” The man’s smile deepened.
