Mystery: The Last Shepherd

Chapter 365 The Witch and the King

"Wait."

Luze's thoughts gradually wandered, and he couldn't help but think of the underground ruins of the Quaternary period, and the evil spirit formed from the mixed souls of the three angels, Einhorn, Soren, and Medici.

Three Sequence 1 angels died at the same time, and through the same means!

Could it be that they died during an initiation ceremony?
Thinking of this, Lu Ze was horrified. The dark and chaotic era of the Fourth Epoch had finally begun to reveal itself to him, but what he saw was so insane and distorted.

“It’s really scary”

He muttered to himself, pressing the "Wheel of Fortune" onto the "Abyss" card to prevent the light card from being blown away by the sea breeze. Since the "Mercury Serpent" affecting this extraordinary item wasn't Urelius, perhaps they could have a proper talk since they shared the same enemy.

Looking back on the scene, the most suspicious couple were the one who stood out.

Lu Ze had only glanced at them briefly at the time; both were ordinary people, and the woman's unborn child seemed normal enough. But thinking back on it now, considering the circumstances—his revolver falling and saving them from danger—they were incredibly suspicious!
Which one of the couple is it, or... the baby in the womb itself?
No, there's too little information to make any guesses.

He shook his head and put the matter aside for the time being.

He'd put the things down and checked Katie's soul state; it was about time to return to the real world. Today, he planned to continue to the East District to watch over the lambs. Just as a shepherd must fulfill his duty of tending the flock every day, he couldn't simply abandon the lambs; otherwise, all the work he'd done might be for nothing.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Sodrac Palace, Queens.

Vast, magnificent palaces and towering clock towers rose from the ground, the thick fog only reaching their base. Bathed in sunlight, this grand complex overlooked the other parts of the city shrouded in fog, appearing like a paradise on earth.

This is the highest point in all of Backlund, and also the location of the Royal Palace of the Loen family.

In the slums far from Queens, this palace existed only in word of mouth; those in the relatively nearby middle-class areas could only hear the chimes of the famous clock tower known as the "Clock of Order" at the palace's edge at regular intervals. And for those who could enter the palace and live there, it was nothing more than an ordinary building they had grown tired of seeing.

"Your Majesty, this is the general result of the investigation."

Inside a palace, the kingdom's current prime minister, Aguhid Nigan, solemnly concluded his report. He tried to suppress his grief, but his exhaustion was still undeniable.

Around him stood a few imperial elites who could influence the nation's politics, and Earl Hall was prominently among them.

"So, in the end you only killed the murderer, but you don't know who the real mastermind was?"

On the throne opposite them, the current King of Rune, George Augustus—commonly known as George III—asked calmly, but his words put an invisible pressure on everyone present.

The king was nearing middle age and wore a crown. He had a serious and resolute face, sported a mustache, and looked very upright and old-fashioned.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty."

Earl Hall stepped forward, bowed slightly, and said, "Professionals from the Goddess Church and His Excellency the 'Singer of God' from the Storm Church have both tried, but the results were not very satisfactory."

"MI9 didn't find anything either."

The man, dressed in a well-tailored suit, added, "Our current public statement is to shift the blame onto the Aurora Club."

The king on the throne adjusted his posture slightly and leaned back in his chair.

"Continue the investigation. The Grand Duke of Rune was killed under mysterious circumstances, which will make him a laughing stock among the leaders of other great powers!"

He issued the order in an unquestionable tone.

"Yes, your will is the direction we should take."

Everyone bowed simultaneously. "And as for the Duke, we should provide appropriate compensation and let his eldest son take on some responsibilities. The Upper House still needs a chairperson."

King George III continued, “The Prime Minister should pay more attention to helping your nephew become a qualified successor as soon as possible.”

".yes."

Prime Minister Agushid and Count Hall exchanged a glance and responded helplessly.

Among those present, a few had a slight look of joy in their eyes.

The Duke of Negan's eldest son is far inferior to his father and certainly cannot unite the minds of everyone in the House of Lords. This means change, and change brings opportunities. If one seizes these opportunities, one may be able to advance further.

"Okay, that's enough for now. Let me rest for a bit."

In the slightly awkward atmosphere, George III waved his hand, and the Earl of the Court led everyone away, leaving the theoretically highest authority in the Loen alone in the hall.

He rested his chin on his fist, leaning back on the throne, expressionless, lost in thought.

"These people have no idea that the real mastermind is right in front of them."

A clear, melodious voice rang out, as if a nightingale were singing.

As the voice spoke, a woman in a white robe slowly emerged from the air. She had an exquisite face and a shapely figure, yet her expression was as pure as a young girl's, evoking a contradictory feeling of wanting to protect her and defile her.

"Pannadia, what are you doing here?"

George III was clearly not swayed by her beauty and asked in a rather cold tone.

"To congratulate His Majesty the King on achieving his goal and completing the internal cleanup. Of course, this is just a joke."

Panatia's first sentence was quite lighthearted, but after being glared at, she became much more obedient.

"Speak the key."

His Majesty the King was losing patience, especially since this reckless cult member had actually shown up at the palace. If she were discovered, his plans would be greatly affected. If she weren't still useful, he would have already arranged for her to be eliminated.

"Don't be in such a hurry. What I want to ask is, now that the Duke has been eliminated, shouldn't the follow-up plans begin?"

Panatia, in her white robes, asked in a sweet voice.

"What you care about is your own digestion and promotion, right?"

King George III sneered, “I don’t care. You decide for yourself. Pick any area in the East End. My only requirement is that the number of dead be high.”

If the quantity is too small, people won't truly feel the pain, and subsequent policies won't be able to be implemented.

"I thought that a king would care about his people."

Panatia was delighted to hear that the other party had agreed so easily, but she was still surprised by his indifference.

"Ah"

Hearing the witch speak like that, George III stroked his beard and said nonchalantly:

"Those were just necessary sacrifices."

(End of this chapter)