Chapter Forty-Nine: Division, Guidance, and Internal Struggle

We initiated these events, but their continuation is no longer in our hands. If we do nothing, will the rumors in the capital still linger? The King of Dawn fell into deep thought, sensing something elusive—an invisible wall that prevented clarity.

At that moment, a green head slowly emerged from behind Qin Le. Once, Qin Le would have leapt in fright, but now his expression was merely resigned. “Noble elf lady, could you appear in a normal manner?”

Since Emeya seemed to have successfully rid herself of her filth, she had grown confident, shedding her former cautiousness. She appeared to have mastered a formidable teleportation skill, always appearing suddenly behind others, delighting in her unpredictability.

“Oh, do you know how troublesome it is to approach you in a normal way?” Emeya clutched the sofa, flipped herself to sit beside Qin Le, and casually picked up an exquisite pastry from the table to eat.

“Continue your discussion; my matters can wait.” The King of Dawn eyed the mysterious elven sorceress, his gaze narrowed, yet he showed no reaction to her impolite behavior. He pressed on, “Grand Duke, if we cease creating strange incidents, will the panic persist?”

Qin Le nodded. “It certainly will, at least for a time. The panic will only intensify. You must have witnessed how quickly and absurdly fear spreads among humans. Most of these bizarre events aren’t our doing; the most vivid and terrifying accounts are born during their transmission.”

Having lived through an era dominated by the internet, Qin Le understood the terror of rumors: falsehoods become truths, and truths become lies.

In an atmosphere of chaos, most people are blind followers. Fear spreads like a virus, swiftly infecting the masses. Some may not believe at first, but when everyone around them succumbs, doubt creeps in.

“When suspicion takes hold in every heart, people begin to question everything around them, especially things they usually ignore. If a person’s mind is hypersensitive in such times, then even the most well-hidden traces of evil may be detected. If this hypothesis holds, we’ll soon be able to root out the cultists lurking in the capital.”

As Qin Le introduced his rumor tactics, the entire think tank seemed liberated from some invisible shackles. Ideas flourished—such as using the very methods Qin Le described to hunt out evil.

The approach was mystical, but so was this world. In fact, they had already unearthed several items imbued with demonic power using this method—not entirely by guesswork, but grounded in certain theories.

According to the King’s description, demons exude an aura that induces inexplicable fear and agitation. The think tank boldly speculated that when people are mentally sensitive, they are easily influenced; demonic aura is the perfect trigger.

When countless people are suspicious and fearful, they turn into a vast search matrix, unknowingly conducting a thorough sweep of the capital. Even if the error rate is ninety-nine percent, the remaining one percent, multiplied by millions, leaves evil nowhere to hide.

“Is that even possible?” The King of Dawn gasped, astonishment etched across his face.

This method sounded utterly unbelievable: plunge the entire city into panic, then use it to search for evil. In theory it seemed impossible, for he could not fathom how to induce citywide panic without revealing its target.

Yet Qin Le had accomplished it flawlessly, with a few seemingly insignificant actions that rippled throughout the capital.

Suddenly, Emeya, who had been silent, asked with a clear voice, “Qin Le, how did you make the entire capital, every last person, so suspicious and fearful?”

This was the most baffling thing the elf had seen in recent times—hundreds of thousands plunged into aimless terror without any supernatural interference.

“That?” Qin Le pondered, then briefly outlined his plan.

Since the plan was already executed, he saw no harm in letting them understand, especially so the King wouldn’t overthink.

It required a timely, complete, and detailed intelligence network, as well as advisers versed in human nature and psychological warfare. While it seemed a sequence of simple steps, each struck precisely at the nerves of the populace.

First, the knights suffered casualties from unknown causes, prompting everyone to subconsciously conjure an enemy. Then, a series of peculiar but non-harmful incidents stoked the atmosphere.

Finally, the bombshell: the suicides in the slums. These incidents were real and verifiable, though usually ignored.

But in a climate of unease, the continual suicides became chilling. The poor in the slums were accustomed to such events, but nobles and wealthy folk found them anything but normal.

After all, people living comfortably wouldn’t think of suicide—surely it was the work of demons.

The lifestyles and mindsets of the classes were utterly divided. The lower classes saw suicide as commonplace; the upper classes found it perplexing and terrifying. This fracture allowed Xuan Lu to play both sides.

After frightening the upper classes with the hellish conditions of the poor, the think tank then turned the innate servility of the lower classes—rooted deep in their era—against them.

The nobles, panicked, issued commissions and repeatedly hired monster hunters. The capital must be dangerous! The rumors must be true!

From there, the chain reaction ignited, needing no further intervention. Fear spread from top to bottom, cloaking the capital in a strange, frenzied atmosphere.

Through these actions, the think tank had the entire city dancing on their palms. For this medieval society, there was no concept of information warfare; such subtle intelligence went unnoticed and uninvestigated.

Qin Le spent about fifteen minutes detailing the sequence of actions, though he omitted the finer points of manipulating the class divide and intelligence warfare.

He couldn’t help but sigh—those who play at tactics always possess a dark heart. The target’s mindset, psychology, even their servility, all become tools to manipulate.

He sipped from the water glass before him, suddenly sensing an odd atmosphere. The King and Emeya were staring at him with a peculiar look.

“Grand Duke, your wisdom is truly astonishing.” The King of Dawn was thoroughly convinced, his fear quietly dissipating.

He had resigned himself—however many days he could survive, he would. With Qin Le supporting Olina, she would surely crush the other nobles beneath her feet.

“What is it?” Qin Le was bewildered.

Why were their gazes so strange, as if he alone had orchestrated all this?

“N-no reason.” Emeya shook her head, but her odd gaze lingered. Her tone, now somewhat respectful, said, “Boss, please forgive me for any offenses in the past.”

‘This one’s heart must be pitch-black—more wicked than the cultists themselves. I must be careful, lest I find myself manipulated without even realizing it. And Olina—she must stay away from him, or she’ll be devoured, bones and all.’

Seeing the elf’s respectful and obedient demeanor, Qin Le immediately grew wary. “If you have something to say, say it. If you have something to do, do it.”

Emeya only behaved like this when payday approached or she needed a favor.

Her eyes darted as she patted her flat chest and declared, in Xuan Lu’s tongue, “Boss, I’d like to apply for a return to base, to contribute to the construction of the Xuan Lu base.”

“Where did you learn that? And how did you pick up our language so quickly?” Qin Le’s lips twitched in disbelief, marveling at her terrifying learning ability.

“The big guy,” Emeya replied, finally having sold Iron Fist out.

Qin Le sighed, his expression serious. “Is the capital really that dangerous now? Even you want to leave.”

If there were no real danger, Emeya would never repeatedly request to leave.

“It’s all your fault! You’ve made everyone in the capital suspicious and fearful. I thought we’d flush out a few demons, but I never expected there’d be so many!” Emeya stretched her arms wide, trying to illustrate the number of demons.

“Your actions have awakened them; the inner world of the capital is now in turmoil.”

Qin Le and the King of Dawn exchanged grave looks.

Qin Le asked, “Just how many are there?”

“Unclear, but definitely not fewer than three digits—perhaps even more.” Emeya answered, then added, “Boss, I want to go back and lay bricks.”

“Have we stirred up a hornet’s nest?” Qin Le stroked his chin. The situation was clearly more complicated than they had imagined.

These demons couldn’t have arisen solely from the eldest prince’s collusion—the numbers were simply too great. If Emeya spoke truthfully, the cultists must have been rooted in the capital for a very long time.

Emeya urged again, “Boss, we must leave quickly. If the demons erupt, we won’t be able to escape. And bring the Sword of Dawn—it’s excellent at repelling evil.”

As she finished speaking, the dormitory lamp hanging in the corner suddenly flickered red.

“Report! A ghoul has appeared in the slum area D1 and engaged in battle with the hunter squad assigned there. The Hunters’ Guild is dispatching reinforcements.”

Qin Le’s lips twisted in exasperation. “Is your mouth blessed? Whatever you say comes true.”

Emeya blinked, momentarily at a loss.