Super Righteous Player
Chapter 608 - 149: The Manipulator of Names and Fate_1

Chapter 608: Chapter 149: The Manipulator of Names and Fate_1

"How many Holy Light Imprints will it take for me to reveal and break the conspiracy that entwines me?"

Annan inquired.

In the face of such an offensive inquiry, the tragic playwright showed no anger whatsoever.

He simply looked at Annan through the mirror with a smile that was neither hasty nor sluggish: "That depends on the specific nature of the conspiracy.

"The word ’conspiracy,’ if spoken in a broad sense, has a very wide implication. Just those who ’conspire’ against you with ’love’ as their goal number no less than ten; then there are those who do not even know of your existence, yet their schemes pertain to you—does that count?

"If I were to tell you everything, then this wouldn’t be a matter you could solve with just over a hundred Holy Light Imprints. This has become closely associated with the truth of ’conspiracy’ itself."

"Let’s take it one by one."

Annan replied without hesitation, "What about Professor Wolf? What does he intend to do by sending Dorin to me? What does he intend to do by becoming Professor Wolf?"

"Do you even need to ask?"

The tragic playwright answered leisurely, "Don’t you already have an answer in your heart?"

"I thought you were just a jester, not a riddler,"

Annan said coldly, "I’m purchasing the answer with Holy Light Imprints, sir."

Besides, I have so many answers in my heart.

There are even those that contradict each other.

I came here to check the reference answer, not for it to say ’for this question, skip’."

"This question is worth forty imprints,"

The tragic playwright shook his finger, with a rising smile, "Frederick... Do you know why his surname is Wolfheart?

"It is because he truly replaced his heart with a werewolf’s.

"As you’ve seen, he has made quite an interesting arrangement. Splitting himself in two, severing his own memories, changing his own name... He thought he could escape from me."

—How could he possibly.

The tragic playwright did not speak these words, but his mocking and pleased mood was already read by Annan through the mirror on his face.

His reserve ensured that his expressions would never be so blunt.

"I was the first god to accomplish self-severance. I am also the god who has delved deepest into the study of ’names’."

No sooner had the tragic playwright finished speaking.

Did a prompt finally appear before Annan:

[Mystical Knowledge Acquired: The second true name of the God of Conspiracy and Murder, "tragic playwright".]

[This mystical knowledge can be used for "Golden Incantation (Idolatry School): True Name Plunder".]

It cannot be used to perform rituals or to call upon gods.

"The tragic playwright" was able to purify the mystical knowledge of his true name to such a simple extent...

"Remember, this is ’Melampus.’ Not ’Sophocles.’"

The tragic playwright raised his finger to his lips, signaling for silence: "You can of course use ’Sophocles’ to perform rituals, but I have long stopped marking it as a mystical knowledge—only when the name ’Sophocles’ is recited during a ritual does it correspond to me as a piece of mystical knowledge and is consumed in the moment of response.

"After all, it is merely an alias. Even an alias known by everyone can also be a true name... but there’s no point in making people forget my alias.

"So if you have anything, just call my true name directly. To prevent misuse that would lead to forgetting, I have retracted the other powers entwined around this name. After all, apart from you, no one knows this name—Mr. Radiance told it to you precisely because ’you are the one asking’."

The tragic playwright said unhurriedly.

In simple terms, "Sophocles" is the work phone, while "Melampus" is the private line...

Annan instantly understood the tragic playwright’s intention.

As he conversed with the tragic playwright, he became increasingly adept at grasping this style of speaking in half-circles.

However, being able to so deftly control the power infused within the mystical knowledge that is his true name...

Annan would not dare to say that other True Gods lacked this ability—after all, it didn’t sound overwhelmingly useful, maybe they just saw no need to do so. But Annan could also see that it was indeed a very meticulous touch.

"So, you also know how foolish it was of him to try to escape from me by manipulating his own name, don’t you?"

The elegant middle-aged man with black hair and deep-set features revealed a mocking smile. "In the terms of your world... it’s called ’showing off one’s slight skill before an expert,’ right?"

"Speak for yourself, don’t drag me into this."

Annan calmly retorted, deliberately interrupting the topic.

"So, after he realized that it was impossible to escape from me no matter what... I think he might have gone a bit mad. Probably."

The face of the Tragedian was always elegant and gentle as he smiled: "He replaced his own heart with that of a wolf. He then meticulously manipulated the wolves, attempting to seize power in Winter Duchy because of his fear of me.

"When he finally realized that no matter how he tried to flatter me, my attitude toward him wouldn’t change... and that I wouldn’t take his life, he decisively abandoned the previous conspiracy to preserve himself. A conspiracy abandoned halfway... quite ironic, isn’t it?"

At this point, the Tragedian gently shook his head, implying something with his words: "When a drunkard can break free from his drunken state at any time, it means he was never drunk in the first place, just pretending to be."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"Naturally, I wanted to test whether you are truly Annan Winter. A probe—you know the meaning of the word. That little girl was just a probe of fate."

Annan immediately caught on as he heard this.

"...So it was to create a causal link with ’Annan’?"

"Exactly. The false body you’re using is Michelangelo’s last masterpiece before his sublimation—it is a wizard-type marble golem with self-awareness that can move on its own and is immune to most spells from prophets and the idol school.

"Although it cannot deflect the idol spells of the golden order, unfortunately... the spell to open one’s own ’Eye of God’ to see the threads of fate is at most of the silver order. That means Frederick could not view the fate of ’Giralda.’

"Fate’s threads cannot attach to it. So it’s impossible to manipulate, vibrate, perceive, influence your fate from afar... and hence impossible to deduce your true name by sorting through the threads of fate to view the past."

Because "Giralda" does not have the threads of fate, high-order idol wizards cannot view what has happened in the past...

Annan quickly understood the problem.

Wait.

If that was the case—

"Exactly."

The Tragedian preempted: "Because you took her in, ’Annan’ ended up indirectly interacting with her.

"If ’Giralda’ is not Annan, then why would the innocent and well-behaved Dorin, who he had sent to Giralda and who wouldn’t wander off, have threads of fate tied to ’Annan Winter’?"

She should not have met Annan Winter.

...Wrong.

If it was at that time that the professor finally managed to control Annan... he would have already been too late!

Because by then, the players had already reached the Sporogenesis Mill!

Annan finally realized.

Why he was drawn to the Sporogenesis Mill, why he met Naifertali through the dreams of the mill, and was further led into the "Nightmare: Gemini"...

Even using "Husky and Thirteen Spices," similar to the duo of the past, to break that nightmare and expose the true identity of the "professor" hidden in the void...

The professor would not do such a thing.

It did him no benefit. On the contrary, it would have disturbed the peace in his life.

But for the Tragedian... it was undoubtedly a rare amusement.

"...So it was you from the start?"

"It was me."

The Tragedian candidly replied: "Before you left Noah... ever since you departed from the Paper Princess and the Faceless Poet, I have been watching you. To be precise, from the time you wished to head to the Razor Domain in Bronfield Province and the Sporogenesis Mill below, I started influencing you.

"Under the protection of the Book of the Celestial Chariot, I only did one thing. That was to make you choose the ’Sporogenesis Mill’ from among many cities of the underground kingdom at a glance, nothing more. That was already me exerting all my effort... The story that unfolded afterward has nothing to do with me; it was the real ’fate’."

Fate is the track of the celestial chariot.

The Tragedian exclaimed for the second time.

"The reason Dorin didn’t manage to assassinate you successfully, wasn’t manipulated to transmit more information, nor was she personally retrieved by the professor... It’s because he vaguely sensed that you were progressing along the ’plot introduction’ I set for you.

"—Of course, he didn’t dare to touch you again. Nor dared to trap you on the surface, wasting your time."

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