Interrogation

The oil lamp flickered with a dim yellow flame, barely providing any light for the small interrogation room.

When Pete Chinar woke from his unconsciousness, his head still ached a little. But the sight before him was no longer that nightmare-like underground cave, but a cramped, poorly ventilated room.

The oil lamp providing the light sat on the table in front of him. Someone was seated across from him, but the backlighting made it difficult for Pete to see the person's features clearly. He could only make out a rather burly silhouette.

The cold sensation against his skin made Pete realize that he was sitting in a metal chair with armrests and a backrest.

More accurately, he was handcuffed to the chair.

When Pete tried to move, the restraint around his wrists made him realize that his movements had been restricted.

Pete turned his head for a look. Two pairs of handcuffs made of some unknown material were fastened around his wrists on one end and connected to the chair's armrests on the other, securing him firmly in place.

The person across the table noticed Pete stirring.

"Awake?"

It was a deep male voice.

The interrogation-like setup immediately made Pete panic a little.

"Sir, please listen to my explanation. I'm innocent. Those black-robed people took me to their gathering only because I didn't know what was going on. I had no idea what they were planning beforehand, and I didn't know who they were either. I really wasn't with them!"

Pete could not help panicking. When he had faced that aberration earlier, his mind had been entirely occupied with figuring out how to survive. He had not had any spare thought for anything else.

Although he had escaped death and survived, what if, given the current situation, he was mistaken for one of those black-robed people's accomplices?

Worshiping an evil god was a grave crime unanimously condemned by every civilized race—a crime serious enough to shoot first and ask questions later, where it was better to kill the wrong person than let one slip away!

"Really, I saw someone posting on the notice board before—"

Before Pete could finish, the man whose face he could not see interrupted him.

"It's not time for you to explain. I ask, you answer."

"Ah, yes, sir. Ask away. I promise I'll tell you everything I know."

Pete chose to comply.

"Name?"

"Pete. Pete Chinar."

"Faith?"

Pete hesitated slightly before answering, "I'm a follower of the Goddess of Magic. I also worship Navarre, the God of Radiance, and Proust, the God of Wealth, a little."

"The Goddess of Magic? You're a spellcaster?" The man lowered his head and quickly wrote something down before asking for confirmation.

"Yes. I'm a third-year student of the Arcane School at Caron Academy. Really, I'm from the Rayak Kingdom and came here to study. I have a second-tier spellcaster certificate and badge issued after passing the academy's assessment. They can prove my identity! I'm a victim too!"

The man raised his head. "The other victims who survived that cave told me that you cast a spell they had never seen before, one powerful enough to destroy that monster. Otherwise, all of you would have died there."

"I went to inspect the monster's corpse. I'd estimate that even an ordinary third-tier spell could not have killed something like that in a single blow, yet you used only one spell. And you say you're merely a second-tier spellcaster from Caron Academy?"

"Honestly, I'm a little curious. How did you do it?"

When the man mentioned Caron Academy, there was obvious mockery in his tone.

Pete knew why the other man reacted that way.

Caron Academy was located in Greenport, a neutral free city in Green Bay, and had been founded with funding from the famous goblin tycoon Karon Lever.

Across the entire Prantis Continent, the academy ranked among the best in both size and renown.

Unfortunately, that so-called renown was not a good kind of reputation.

At Caron Academy, even students with terrible ability could buy an admission spot as long as they paid enough money. Its various professional assessments were also famously easy to pass. Pay enough, and all sorts of cheating methods could be used during the assessment to lower the difficulty of passing.

Caron Academy produced plenty of frauds and loafers. The professional ability of its graduates generally had to be judged one or two levels below their official rating, which had practically become common knowledge across the continent.

It was already very difficult for a second-tier spellcaster to cast a third-tier spell.

Not to mention that Pete was a second-tier fraud from Caron Academy.

Yet he had done something that was clearly beyond what his "normal ability" should have allowed.

"So, Pete, how did you do it? I mean, cast that spell?"

When Pete did not answer, the man repeated the question.

Pete swallowed, feeling a faint sheen of sweat form on his back.

He had wanted to tell the truth: when he had nearly fallen into despair, he had suddenly received a divine revelation from some unknown god, and that god had generously granted him a method of casting magic completely different from praying to the Goddess of Magic.

At the time, in order to survive, he had not thought much about it and simply followed the instructions. He had successfully cast that powerful third-tier spell and really destroyed the monster.

But now that he was out of danger, as Pete carefully recalled what had happened, he suddenly realized a very serious problem.

Pete remembered the three traits of evil gods he had learned about.

First, evil gods did not require specific prayers. As long as one called out sincerely, it was possible to draw an evil god's attention.

Second, the power of evil gods carried dangerous influence. Once accepted, it might not cause obvious changes at first. One might even be numbed by the easily acquired power. But as time passed, an evil god's followers would gradually change in both mind and appearance, eventually losing all reason and becoming fanatical servants or sacrifices of the evil god.

Third, and most frighteningly, establishing a connection with an evil god was easy, but breaking free was extremely difficult. Even if one no longer prayed to the evil god, once one became its follower, the evil god could continue watching that follower. Whether the follower wished it or not, it could directly bestow divine revelations or power filled with an evil aura upon them.

Although Pete desperately wanted to convince himself that the one who had answered him might not have been an evil god, that he was innocent, and that he had never wanted anything to do with an evil god—

Based on what had happened earlier, the first two traits... seemed to match perfectly!

He had not prayed to any god according to a specific format, yet a god had received his request and turned its attention toward him.

He had also gained powerful strength quickly. A third-tier spell that he could barely have mastered with his affinity for the Goddess of Magic had actually been successfully cast in just a few minutes.

As for the third trait?

Pete "looked" at the glaring information that had just appeared in his mind and fell silent.

[Believer's request detected.]

[Mission updated.]

[Mission: Gain the trust of Bahamut Conkduntes Glazcharden.]

[Current trust level: 17%]

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