Being omniscient and omnipotent sure has its perks.
The moment Furina announced in court that Marcel's true identity—Vasher—had been told to her by Vinet, Marcel completely snapped. He didn't wait for Furina to interrogate him; like a child who'd lost his favorite toy, he imploded into confession.
"Do you think I wanted this?" he wailed.
"Have any of you ever felt the pain of losing the one you love?"
"Have you watched the person you cherish melt away before your eyes?"
"No one believed me—no one! Vinet's death was treated like nothing."
"If the Hydro God has found my lab, then she knows what I already knew: Fontainers can dissolve in Primordial Belly Sea water."
"Now you know the truth—but it's too late. Those who dissolved are gone forever."
Marcel raged and wept and, in a final, dreadful act, gulped down a cup of the Primordial Belly Sea water himself. Stunned citizens watched as he explained, between sobs, how he—an outsider from Snezhnaya—could not dissolve, and so tried, through science, to restore Vinet.
He told them how he begged Furina—his prayer to a goddess—for any clue to Vinet's fate. Fortunately, Furina had already heard Su Xuan explain that the dissolved Fontainers returned as pure water-spirits to their proper home: the pooled source at Lucent Spring, where Vinet's consciousness awaited.
Marcel was despicable, yes—but Furina's kind heart decided that, before locking him away in Meropide Prison, she could at least tell him where Vinet's spirit dwelt. That was the price she asked in return: he must reveal every profit line and conspiratorial tie behind Les and confess the truth of the Kares affair.
Once Marcel spilled everything, Furina ordered the law enforcers to take him to Lucent Spring.
But when the two-decade case finally broke, there were no triumphant cheers.
The entire Opéra Épiclèse fell into a silence that felt like cold water.
No one who'd hoped for a tidy reveal could cheer. The truth was worse: Vinet, a local Fontainer, had been dissolved. All the missing girls had been used in dissolution experiments. The prophecy—it was true. Fontainers could, indeed, melt into water.
In the crowd, the disguised Focalors felt the tremor of panic ripple through her people. She turned to Su Xuan.
"I think revealing the whole truth to the Fontainers isn't necessarily bad," Su Xuan said quietly. "At least then the sacrifices and efforts are not in vain."
As he spoke, Focalors' gaze drifted lazily to the VIP box where Furina stood—radiant, triumphant, and utterly sure of herself. Furina spoke without restraint, laying Fontaine's history bare. She told the people why the truth had been hidden: to spare them panic. But now she said she possessed a method to make mimetic Fontainers into real humans—and even to halt the prophecy itself. If they trusted her and gave her time, she swore she could reverse everything.
"All truths are hidden beneath the ancient ruins under Whiteswell Town," she declared.
"Our first Water God, Egothelia, made us. The Sky-Isles were angered, and so we were cursed. Destruction will come, and it is not our fault."
"We did not know—we were not given a choice—so this fate is unjust!"
"I, as a goddess in the Nation of Justice, cannot accept such unfairness from above. I have found a way to break it."
"Before the Oratrice, before the tribunal, I—Focalors, the so-called Demon God—can even place the gods themselves on trial."
Furina struck a pose—hands on hips, voice ringing through the hall—and the silence shattered into a tidal cheer.
Neuvillette's eyes went wide.
"Does she understand what she's saying?" he muttered inwardly. Pointing at Celestia betrayed the kind of hubris that could doom Fontaine, and Neuvillette, who'd long despised the Sky-Isles' arrogation, felt the hairs rise. Accusing the higher heavens of injustice was tantamount to a declaration of war.
From her seat among the commoners, Focalors sighed and gave a small, exasperated chuckle. "Oh—Furina is a child," she thought. Furina's confidence, Focalors knew, all came from the man at her side. That arrogance might provoke Su Xuan's displeasure—Focalors worried.
Su Xuan, however, smiled faintly and offered a different read: "If someone only dares act with courage when they have a crutch—and then still cower when they don't—what's the point of the crutch?" Focalors could not deny the logic. She watched Furina glow with a confidence she'd never truly felt before—because five centuries of staged poise had finally become genuine.
Focalors' heart tightened. She understood the ache of living under fear—five hundred years of it—and how cruel the stage had been that forced Furina to keep smiling. But with Su Xuan by her side, those chains seemed brittle.
"You dote on Furina," Focalors said gratefully, letting the feeling show.
Su Xuan tightened his fingers around hers with a mischievous curl at his lips. "Like you'd say I only dote on her and not you."
Suddenly Focalors' playful mood shifted. "Would all this be considered defamation in Fontaine?" she asked, half-jesting.
After the trial, Furina and the others returned to the Palais des Mers.
Lumine and Paimon lost interest in the courtroom: they'd expected Marcel to resist; instead he'd collapsed into confession at the mere mention of Vinet. Bored and restless, they slipped away to enjoy the trip on their own terms—who knew where.
Furina, meanwhile, floated on cloud nine. The public's acclamations felt different this time: the voice that rose for her was sincere and sweet—after five hundred years of hollow applause, this felt real. The burden had lifted—if only a little.
But then the trouble came.
Neuvillette—steady and somber—rushed to her office like a man pursued by questions. He demanded explanations with the tone of an interrogator. He feared Furina's bold proclamations might invite new dangers to Fontaine. He had to know if Snezhnayan envoys were involved. He insisted on a clear account. He wanted to personally inspect Whiteswell's ruins and to interrogate the interests tied to Vasher's network. Time, he warned, was tight.
Then—he dropped a bomb: his court's report said that when Vasher was taken to Lucent Spring, he suffered a mental collapse and died of fear at the site.
Furina froze.
Marcel died? Of course—no wonder Su Xuan had hinted there was something at Lucent Spring waiting for him. It had been a death-sentence in disguise.
Furina was curious about the death, but she did not want to answer Neuvillette's larger, thornier questions. How could she explain that the sins Walt Fontaine carried were—by an older design—meant to draw back the Dragon King's authority? That destiny had been written long before? And that the arrival of Su Xuan had utterly upended those plans?
If Neuvillette were to regain Ancient Dragon authority, it would be due to Su Xuan's whims—not Furina's. She had no right to decide such things.
Just as she prepared to assert, half-playfully, "Neuvillette, remember—I am a goddess and you answer to me," Focalors reappeared before them. She had come, it seemed, to explain truths to Neuvillette—and possibly to resolve the question of Ancient Dragon authority.
Furina decided to let it go for now and went looking for Su Xuan. Stepping out of the palace, she was met by two hurried figures: Clorinde and Navia, the Thorned Rose heiress.
"Clorinde, Navia—what's wrong?" Furina blinked.
"Navia—about your father Kares—the truth is out. Shouldn't you be happy?"
But Navia looked terrified instead. Clorinde exchanged a glance and whispered, "She is a diary-holder, too." Navia, like the others, had a diary copy and the support of Su Xuan's power. So why panic?
Navia explained: she'd wanted to personally thank Su Xuan for clearing her father's name; she'd sought out Lumine and Paimon first because she was anxious and wanted friends before meeting someone so enormous. During the dinner, Lumine and Paimon told her the practical truth: Su Xuan gives power before he truly changes a nation. Furina and Clorinde hadn't yet received it—so their promise to turn Fontainers human wasn't a guarantee. Moreover, Su Xuan had set secret time-space gates to the Jade Pavilion in every nation—but no one had reported any such gate in Fontaine yet.
"But Focalors has already returned," Furina protested.
Navia and Clorinde exchanged looks. Navia had pressed them: details about resurrection are delicate; many revived persons return because Su Xuan needs them for something. It isn't for the benefit of others. That stung.
Furina's face fell. "So everything I boasted about—has no basis yet?" The bravado that had swept the theatre suddenly felt thin.
"Quick—come with us to find Su Xuan and get it straightened out!" Navia urged.
Furina dashed off, determined to make Su Xuan cement her claims.
Read 50 chapters ahead on P@treon -> patreon.com/lucarioTL