A Mastermind? No, I'm just the Live-In Son-in-Law-Chapter 59: Interrogation

Of course, that didn’t change the fact that the leader of the black mages had chosen me as her proxy too.

So I was both a fake Hero and a fake black magic leader... what kind of hellish hybrid setup is this?

‘At this rate, I’m going to need ten bodies just to survive...’

They even said that the Pope—who, in theory, might not leave the floating city even once in his entire lifetime—had come all the way to the Academy to meet me.

And the most depressing part? This was just the beginning.

As someone who knew exactly how badly the Hero got tossed around in the original game, all I could do was sigh.

– Creeeaak...

Truthfully, I wanted to run away more than anything, but that was impossible now. So I opened the door to the meeting room, trailed by Holy Knights who might’ve been bodyguards... or jailers.

I’d heard that testimony and evaluation regarding my Hero qualifications would happen here, so I prepared myself and—

“Saintess! Please, even now, just tell us the truth!”

“We swear to protect your safety! Please, just—”

I froze in place at the scene inside the room.

“...As I’ve said many times, I was neither threatened nor brainwashed.”

“But still... haa...”

Surrounded by priests with grim expressions, Hestia was being relentlessly interrogated. She had been pulled away by the Holy Nation after that day, and this was the first time I’d seen her since.

“Saintess, with all due respect, we are inquisitors trained specifically for interrogation...”

“Of course, it’s not that we don’t believe you, but we do sense some falsehood in your words...”

“Be honest. During your... protective custody, were you subjected to anything that should not have happened?”

Well, I guess I can’t blame them. If a kidnapped Saintess suddenly declared her captor to be the Hero, I’d suspect Stockholm Syndrome too.

Still, I was a good kidnapper—doing evil for the sake of peace and Hestia’s well-being. Slightly unfair, honestly.

“I-I told you, it wasn’t like that...”

“...Sigh.”

“What on earth happened to you...?”

But Hestia’s awkward and guilty-looking reactions only deepened their suspicions.

If they ever found out the real reason she looked like that was because she’d spent her nights drowned in luxury food and wine... what kind of face would they make?

“Ahem.”

Of course, I had no intention of revealing that, so I cleared my throat.

In an instant, the meeting room went cold and silent.

“It’s an honor to meet you, members of the Sacred Nation.”

“......”

“I heard His Holiness the Pope himself would be attending. Where might he be?”

As I looked around awkwardly and threw out a question, still trying to ease the tension—

“Excuse us.”

Several priests and Academy staff passed by and began setting up two massive crystal orbs on either side of the conference table.

“...Ah.”

As the orbs began to glow and project shapes into the air, I finally understood the situation.

‘...Right. Even if he’s the Pope, he couldn’t possibly just pop over to the Academy overnight.’

Apparently, the Holy Nation had opted for remote communication rather than bringing the Pope in person.

So, in a way, this was like some kind of divine Zoom call.

Of course, that’s simplifying it—a full-body projection crystal that could transmit an entire person in real time would eat up the budget of a small country. But it was the Sacred Nation, after all.

‘But why are there two of them?’

That was the part I didn’t get. Not only had the Sacred Nation set up a crystal orb, but the Academy staff had brought in one just as large.

As far as I knew, the Academy barely scraped by financially year to year.

And it’s not like they had someone so important that they needed to bring in a crystal orb for them too...

“Pleased to meet you, Whitney Ringaarden.”

“...!”

“Chosen of the Saintess.”

“...I am Paulus the Third, Pope of the Holy Astra Theocracy.”

A youthful, silver-haired boy with milky white eyes appeared through the Sacred Nation’s crystal, his expression calm and composed.

‘This is my first time seeing the Pope this close.’

Of course, I’d seen him in the original game, but seeing him like this in person... felt different.

Because this person, who looked even younger than me, was actually—

“Don’t be fooled, Lord Whitney.”

“...!”

“Despite appearances, he’s got at least two or three times my age.”

Just then, a familiar voice chimed in from beside me.

“Your Majesty.”

“You missed me, didn’t you? Fufu...”

“...Of course, Your Majesty.”

At last, I realized who the Academy’s other crystal belonged to—and fought to keep a calm expression as I closed my eyes and thought.

‘So this isn’t just a session for questioning and confirmation, huh?’

It might have been fine if it were only the Pope.

But with even the Emperor present... things were clearly a lot more complicated than they looked.

“Oh, and by the way—that warning wasn’t just about his age.”

“......”

“Pay attention to the Pope’s word choice. He didn’t call you a Hero. He said you were chosen by the Saintess.”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

A few moments of listening to the Emperor speak gently to me was enough to tell me the likelihood of that was high.

“Your Majesty the Emperor, I must ask that you refrain from provocative language.”

“Well, I’m not really one for speaking in circles, unlike someone else I could name.”

“...Even saying that with such a face and expression doesn't make it any more convincing.”

“Oh dear. Does that mean you don’t trust Lord Whitney either, even though we look like mirror images?”

I had already known the relationship between the Holy Nation and the Empire was a tightrope walk, but I never expected I’d be the firewood tossed onto the flames.

Should I be stepping in now before I get flattened between two giants?

“...To speak honestly—yes. That’s correct.”

Watching quietly as the Pope and the Emperor’s tense power play unfolded, I flinched slightly when the Pope turned to address me, scratching the back of my head.

“Of course, it’s true that this is an unprecedented situation. But the fact that the Saintess chose Lord Whitney is undeniable.”

“...Haha...”

“However, there are also quite a few matters Lord Whitney needs to clarify.”

At ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) least, thankfully, they hadn’t realized that Hestia had fallen according to the corrupted route from the original storyline.

“In any case, we ask for your cooperation.”

Even if that weren’t the case, it seemed the Holy Nation had no intention of recognizing me as the Hero that easily.

“Well, I came here expecting that.”

“Thank you. Then...”

Naturally, I had no right to refuse their investigation, so I nodded while sneaking a glance at Hestia sitting beside me.

“...Hmph.”

Something was definitely bothering me—Hestia had been purposely avoiding my gaze with a sulky expression for a while now.

“Please bring in the witnesses.”

At any rate, the unofficial Hero verification being held at the Academy—which had suddenly become a neutral zone between the Holy Nation and the Empire—was only just beginning.

***

Meanwhile, at that moment.

One floor below the meeting room, in the Office of the Commoner Assembly Chair.

“Thank you for waiting.”

One of the witnesses waiting to testify about Whitney’s Hero qualification quietly lifted her head at the priest’s voice, who peeked in through the door.

“Please, follow me. We’ll begin with the first witness.”

“U-Um, I have a question...”

Eventually, she asked the priest in a voice full of unease.

“You’re really going to protect our identities, right?”

“......”

“I-I mean, I don’t think a single veil like this is enough to guarantee anonymity...”

She was none other than a first-year noble lady—Adel’s close aide.

She was the same student who, during the midterms, had run from the Headless Knight and happened to witness Whitney leading monsters.

“Do not worry. That veil is a sacred relic used by the Holy Nation during confessionals.”

“Ah...”

“It carries a powerful blessing that conceals your appearance, body shape, even your voice—so please, rest assured.”

“O-Oh... okay, that’s a relief...”

Breathing a small sigh of relief at the priest’s kind explanation, she nodded.

“The Holy Nation guarantees your anonymity and safety. So please, simply testify as you did initially.”

With a gentle smile, the priest reassured the other witnesses gathered behind her, then quietly closed the door.

“......”

And then, silence.

‘I didn’t think there’d be this many victims...’

As she glanced nervously at the people standing behind her, she soon clenched both hands tightly with a resolute look.

‘I have no choice. I have to do this... for Lady Adel...!’

But just as she took a determined breath and was about to step out the door—

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– Rustle...

“Hiiik!?”

Something suddenly squirmed from inside her clothes.

“W-What the...!?”

Frozen in place in shock, she frantically pulled at her collar to see what it was.

“Ah.”

And when she saw what had been squirming beneath her clothes, she let out a faint scream, her face turning ghostly pale.

– Kkyuruk...

It was the spider monster that had been stuck to Whitney’s leg on the day of the midterms—its unmistakable form now staring up at her.

– Tuk, tuk...

The little thing began tapping the nametag on her chest with its legs.

“E-Excuse me... Sir Priest...”

“Yes?”

“T-This... um... this thing...”

Her tightly clenched hands trembling, she squeezed out a whisper to call the priest outside the door.

“Yes? What seems to be the matter?”

“Can’t you... see this?”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not sure what you’re referring to...”

The priest—someone who, of all people, should have been most capable of detecting monsters—simply tilted his head, puzzled, staring blankly at her.

“H-Haha... ahaha...”

That was when she realized something utterly chilling.

Forcing a smile, she took stiff, reluctant steps forward.

‘...I’m sorry, Lady Adel.’

At this point, the only way she could survive Whitney’s clutches... was by committing perjury.