Chapter 119: The God's Facade
"Waaah!" Focalors cried out, a sharp note of surprise that quickly dissolved into a tearful plea. "Who are you? W-what do you want? Please don't kill me, I beg you..."
Her reaction caught everyone completely off guard.
The cloaked figure paid her no mind, raising the weapon in their hand as they pressed their interrogation. "The future foretold in the prophecy is nearly upon us, Hydro Archon. What have you done? You have been outrageously relaxed this entire time, taking no action to counter the coming crisis. Since you don't intend to do anything, then perhaps you shouldn't do anything at all..."
With that chilling declaration, the assailant ignored Focalors' desperate cries and swung the scythe. The polished blade arced through the air, aimed directly at the Hydro Archon.
This is bad! She's in danger!
The realization struck Conan like a physical blow. Focalors was utterly incapable of defending herself. Brushing aside his deep confusion—why couldn't a god handle a single attacker?—he opened his mouth to shout, to do anything to stop the assault.
But someone else was faster.
Before a sound could escape Conan's lips, Natsume shot out from beside him. In a fluid, powerful motion, she delivered a sharp kick to the assailant's wrist, the impact echoing with a dull thud. The scythe clattered to the ground.
While the attacker reeled from the sudden intervention, Natsume moved to shield Focalors, her eyes locked on the figure, vigilantly watching for any sign of another attack.
In that same moment, Ran Mouri rushed over to join them. The suspicious person seemed to realize their window for a silent elimination had closed. Seeing more people arrive, they seized a moment of Natsume's divided attention and vanished into the night.
Fearing it was a feint to lure her away from her charge, Natsume held her ground and did not pursue.
"Travelers from a foreign land," Focalors began, her voice still trembling. "First... first I must thank you for lending me a helping hand. But actually, if you had just waited a moment, you would have realized that what just happened was no danger to a god like me... cough cough. Anyway, I still appreciate your help."
She had been crumpled on the ground, her eyes wide with lingering terror and her body still shaking. But upon seeing the group of outsiders gather, she did her best to suppress her fear. She slowly pushed herself to her feet, forcing a wobbly smile as she addressed Natsume and the others.
Now that the immediate threat had passed, Conan and the rest of the group hurried to the scene.
Hearing Focalors' attempt at bravado, Genta couldn't help but interject, a note of displeasure in his voice. "That's not what you said! I saw you begging for mercy just now. If it weren't for Sister Natsume, you wouldn't have been able to..."
"Genta!" Conan cut him off, his sharp tone silencing the boy. He had seen Focalors' hands clench into tight fists, a desperate effort to still her trembling.
"What?! You all saw that?!" Genta's words made Focalors realize they had witnessed the entire humiliating ordeal. A flicker of panic crossed her face before she quickly scrambled for an excuse. "Cough cough, what I meant was... that was all part of my strategy... Yes, a strategy! I was lulling my opponent into a false sense of security. Right, that's exactly what happened..."
Kikukawa, however, still looked utterly confused. "But aren't you a god? Why would you need a strategy against someone trying to harm you?"
During the exchange, some of the color returned to Focalors' face. Her expression grew more natural, the raw fear finally receding. She placed her hands on her hips in a theatrical pose. "What do you know? You clearly don't understand the great power of a god. If I were to fight seriously, what if my power was too immense and injured innocent people? Of course, I must first lower my opponent's guard, then strike a fatal blow while they are relaxed. It reduces the chance of accidents."
Genta remained unconvinced. "Then can you show us a little demonstration of a god's power?"
At his words, Ayumi and the others also turned to Focalors, their eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation.
Visibly uncomfortable under their collective stare, Focalors waved a dismissive hand. "I am the Hydro Archon, not a street performer doing tricks. How can I just demonstrate my abilities willy-nilly?"
Conan already harbored deep suspicions about the incident. Seeing that Focalors was determined to brush the matter aside, he decided not to press the point and changed the subject.
"Lady Focalors," Conan began, "we met Monsieur Neuvillette today. He mentioned that you have been investigating the prophecy. May I ask if you've made any progress?"
The question seemed to catch Focalors off guard. She froze for a second before a practiced smile returned to her lips. "Progress... there's no progress to speak of. I'm just investigating out of curiosity, and I don't have anything I can tell you. Besides, you don't need to worry about the prophecy. With me, the Hydro Archon Focalors, here, everything will be fine."
Conan pressed on. "But recently, young women have been dissolving into the Primordial Seawater. Is this related to the prophecy—"
"You just need to trust me, your god!" Focalors interrupted, her voice rising in pitch as she tried to reassert her authority. "Regardless of whether you can truly convince yourself deep down, just follow my words! Anyway... everything will definitely be fine."
Conan fell silent.
Everyone else did, too.
Focalors didn't give anyone a chance to speak again. "Ah! It's already so late. I can't chat anymore. We have the trial at the Opera Epiclese tomorrow. You should all get some rest tonight. See you there!"
And with that, she turned and practically ran off into the darkness.
Moroboshi started to move, intending to stop her, but Conan put a hand on his arm, holding him back. Watching Focalors'retreating figure, Moroboshi turned to Conan, his voice tight with frustration. "Why did you stop me? She was clearly lying. The trial is tomorrow; that could be the final deadline for this'game.' This is the last night we have, and it's a rare chance to run into the Hydro Archon. Why didn't we take the opportunity to ask more about the prophecy?"
Mouri Kogoro, standing beside him, nodded in agreement. "Exactly. And for what it's worth, I don't think that Hydro Archon is very powerful at all. With so many of us here, it wouldn't have taken much to stop her from leaving."
Though Genta didn't understand Conan's reasoning either, he instinctively stood up for him when he heard the others questioning him. "Why are you asking so many questions? Conan must have his reasons for doing that." He then turned to Conan for confirmation. "Right, Conan?"
Conan resisted the urge to sigh. Genta... you're not even sure yourself, so how can you say that with such confidence?
He had no choice but to explain. "The reason I stopped Moroboshi is that under these circumstances, asking her more is pointless. Did you notice? Shortly after she was attacked, even while she was still terrified, she refused to admit she had been in danger. Now that she's recovered her composure, I doubt we could get any information out of her without resorting to force. And after all, she is the nominal Hydro Archon of Fontaine. We shouldn't do anything excessive to her..."
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