This Game Is Too Real
Chapter 439: To Deal with a Charlatan, Naturally One Must Use an Even More Charlatan Method

Chapter 439: Chapter 439: To Deal with a Charlatan, Naturally One Must Use an Even More Charlatan Method

"Forward!"

"We are the indestructible spearhead of the Alliance!"

"We are the steel torrent that sweeps away everything!"

"We have prepared to offer our hearts and are ready to give our lives to realize His Majesty the Manager’s ideals!"

"To the airport!!!"

The roar of engines resonated as the truck carrying the Skeleton Corps pursued the howling sands ahead.

Half of a body protruded from the desert-colored steel turret.

Brother Mole, holding binoculars, was exuberantly shouting with excitement in his drake-like voice.

Despite the turret being so hot that it could fry an egg, and despite being the odd one out standing and getting a mouthful of sand, the excited fellow still refused to come down from the tank.

The other three crew members sat listlessly on the truck carrying the tank, whispering to each other and not caring at all about Brother Mole’s overzealous speech.

Having played the Game together for so long, they had grown accustomed to his performances – he would settle down after a while.

"Why does the 155 have so few rounds in reserve, why not use a 120?"

"There are no production lines for 120 barrels, so they just went with the 155 barrels."

"WTF? That works?"

"Ha, you look as surprised as a newbie."

"It’s too hot, sweating is irritating. We should’ve installed air conditioning in the tank."

Hearing his good brothers’ weak comments, Brother Mole put down his binoculars and looked at them dissatisfied.

"What the hell is that? Too feeble! Better to bring a couple more shells!"

All crew members: "..."

Mad.

This guy has gone bonkers.

A total of 35 tanks were being carried by 35 trucks.

These 12-wheel heavy trucks, the latest product of the Alliance with the assistance of Silver Wing Group – the "Electric Bull" – had a carrying capacity many times that of the Electric Donkey, with a maximum load of 80 tons, mainly for transporting heavy equipment.

As for the fearless "armored grenadiers" of the Skeleton Corps, they mostly sat on 4-wheeled "Electric Donkeys."

700-plus kilometers of cross-country, of course, it was impossible to drive tanks all the way.

The 400-kilometer grand rush of T34 was considered a miracle in military history.

Most tanks had motor lifetimes around 500 kilometers, beyond which engines and suspensions needed major repairs.

So, relying on road or rail transportation and deploying only after reaching the destination was a common practice.

Although the Mark II tanks used future materials, the Alliance’s industrial technology was still rough, and the mechanical durability was not outstanding.

If they really went off-road for 700 kilometers, they’d probably end up pushing the tanks to the destination before even getting there.

The Skeleton Corps entering the desert from the South would advance along the edge of the dust storm and rely on the rusty sand to avoid possible aerial reconnaissance and electromagnetic wave detection.

On the other hand, Elena, standing on a heavy truck, was humming a tune while frying eggs she had collected on the hood of a tank’s engine, not minding at all when the Spirit of the Sand Sea occasionally sprinkled some seasoning.

Gnome King Riches was squatting by the truck’s railing, staring at the map non-stop, trying to figure out their current location in the near featureless desert.

"Where are we now?" asked Elena casually.

Gnome King Riches shook his head.

"Don’t know, no GPS... who knows where we’ve ended up."

After dishing the fried egg onto a plate, Elena glanced at him comically.

"Just don’t drive us to the Army’s old home."

Gnome King Riches packed the map away and rolled his eyes.

"Alright, alright, you can keep your jinx mouth shut now."

"Fine... oh, want a fried egg?"

The fried egg did smell quite good.

Though the ingredients were a bit unusual, Old Na’s cooking skills were beyond reproach, and the monster meatloaf that became famous in North Street of Dawn City was the work of him and the Fried Egg Brothers.

However, Brother Fu Gui did not immediately take the bait but swallowed nervously, looking at her warily.

"...You’re sure this is just a bird egg?"

Elena shifted her gaze awkwardly and scratched her head.

"I can assure you it’s an egg."

Gnome King Riches: "..."

...

Elsewhere, at Petra Fortress.

A sign reading [Temporarily Closed] hung on the "station" door of the White Bear Knights, yet the warehouse was anything but empty.

In fact, it was a bit crowded.

The man leading the group was the Lord of Petra, Saen.

Behind him were the castle guards, generals responsible for city defense, nobles in lavish attire, priests in white robes, and so on...

Compared to the Skeleton Corps’ monotonous journey, the White Bear Knights’ players were dealing with much more excitement.

Seeing that nearly all the city’s power brokers had gathered here, Old Buma felt his calves trembling and his heart struggling to cope.

Nevertheless, seeing the young lady who had been taken away by the guards return unscathed, he breathed a sigh of relief.

He had been trying to find out her whereabouts for days, but he couldn’t even find a whisper about what had happened to her, much less where she was taken.

In any case.

It was good she was back.

The figure of Sesame Paste, who was surrounded by the crowd, had an anxious expression and was at a loss for what to do.

Si Si, standing beside her, watched the hall’s occupants calmly and then slowly said.

"She is the divine messenger I spoke of."

As she spoke, she gently lifted the hat on Sesame Paste’s head.

Upon seeing the pair of swaying cat ears, almost everyone showed a look of surprise and even let out exclamations.

Except for the other members of the White Bear Knights and Old Buma standing in the corner.

Perhaps he had seen too much, but he had grown accustomed to the odd pair of ears atop the young lady’s head.

However, when he heard the word "Messengers of God," his face still showed a puzzled expression.

Messengers... Messengers of God?!

What in the world is happening?!

Old Buma couldn’t be blamed for his surprise, after all, he couldn’t access the Forum, and when players exchanged strategies, they naturally didn’t include him.

Let’s rewind to five days ago.

In the court of the Lord of Petra Fortress.

Under the watchful eyes of all the merchants and nobles of the entire city-state, Si Si openly admitted on the spot that she was behind all the rumors spreading throughout the city.

Whether it was the parts fabricated by the leader of the Mercenary herself or the rumors that sprouted during the course of gossip, she took them all onto herself in one breath.

And she did so with an air of confidence.

However, she vehemently denied that these were made-up lies, insisting instead that they were prophecies dreamt by her companion, sent by the Silver Moon Goddess.

The moment she uttered, "It is the will of the gods," the court was instantly in an uproar.

The old Priest in a white robe was so angry his nose was nearly crooked, and he accused her on the spot of being a blasphemous witch, calling for the guards to behead her.

Count Roskin, the official in charge of diplomatic affairs, also expressed that this sounded utterly preposterous, offering well-reasoned rebuttals.

"... If it truly is the will of the gods, why would the great deities not choose a devout believer, like our Lord, but instead choose you?"

He paused, his voice filled with doubt.

"... A heretic from outside of the Oasis, for what reason would the great deities possibly let you dictate our actions?"

The old Priest, unable to contain his fury, picked up where he left off.

"That’s right! Even if it were guidance from the Spirit of the Sand Sea and the Silver Moon Goddess, why would they come to you and not me?"

After all, if she died, she just had to restart, there might be a chance to survive if she fought back, so Si Si simply went for broke and retorted without holding back.

"Shouldn’t this question be asked of yourselves?"

The confident voice left them stunned.

For a moment, the great hall was as silent as a graveyard.

Without waiting for the astonished Count Roskin to open his mouth, without waiting for the nobles to regroup and spew out curses, she lifted her head and puffed out her chest as though the deities stood right beside her.

"You all knew very well that those people had ill intentions, yet you watched them bring their slaughter knives into your homes, defiling your faith right under your noses, attempting to awaken an evil spirit that had been sealed by the deities two hundred years ago! You knew everything, yet you did nothing; you didn’t even stand up to resist, instead, you buried your heads in the sand like ostriches."

Scanning these well-dressed nobles, she denounced them with justified anger.

"Why did the Spirit of the Sand Sea find me? Why didn’t it seek help from its ’most devout’ believers? Shouldn’t you all reflect on what you’ve done to disappoint the deities to such an extent?"

These harsh words completely infuriated the crowd.

And wounded the pride of many.

Especially the nobles led by Roskin.

Most of them were of the opinion that surrendering to the Army was best, believing that they could not only retain their wealth and status with loyal service, but potentially even elevate their noble ranks.

Much like the nobles of the Falcon Kingdom, those who surrendered first were mostly rewarded.

However, no matter how surreptitiously they tried to justify their surrender for the sake of the thousands of common folk of the Oasis, it couldn’t hide the fact that they had spiritually knelt down.

The Lord of Petra was equally angered by these words, but seeing Count Roskin and a host of nobles huffing and glaring, he suddenly wasn’t so angry anymore.

Especially after he calmed down and thought about it.

These words...

Seemed to make sense, didn’t they?

If he were the Silver Moon Goddess or the Spirit of the Sand Sea, seeing his own believers so spineless, he too might consider looking elsewhere for someone.

Unfortunately, the only pity was that the girl had no evidence to her claims, aside from a cleverly argued plea, and couldn’t produce a single tangible piece of proof.

Saen ultimately couldn’t believe her word alone, but he also didn’t heed the nobles and priests clamoring for her execution, opting instead for a middle-ground approach by confining her in a windowless, cold, and damp cell in the castle dungeon.

That was typically where felons were kept.

But that didn’t mean he intended to inflict cruel torture upon her.

This was a form of protection.

And also a test.

People’s psychological defenses are most fragile when they are isolated and unsupported, particularly in a cell without a flicker of sound.

Unless specifically trained in counter-interrogation, even the innocent could easily become despairingly guilty on a signed confession.

But if she truly had seen divinity and had that much faith in her heart, she most likely wouldn’t fail even this small test.

After he announced she would be locked up in the dungeon for felons, the nobles were indignant but could say nothing further.

And the woman herself calmly accepted the sentence, although she maintained her innocent defense throughout.

Her composure couldn’t help but make Saen doubt whether he had done something wrong.

However, he had no intention of changing his mind, resolved to keep her confined for at least a month.

If after a month she still insisted it was the will of the gods, he would believe her and apologize.

However, regrettably, rumors about the Army and the evil god grew more uncontrollable by the day in the city, and the disturbances from the east increasingly unsettled him.

If he didn’t make a decision soon, it was likely that fear itself would collapse the order of Petra Fortress before the Army even arrived.

What was worse, if it later proved the woman did indeed receive the divine will, or if the prophecy truly came to pass...

How would he, who had sent her to the dungeon, explain himself to His Majesty and the citizens of Petra Fortress?

Was he really to join the Army along with those spineless ones?

Saen didn’t realize that as he ordered the woman to be thrown into the dungeon, he too was caught in a psychological struggle.

To believe?

Or not to believe?

Whichever choice he made could potentially lead to a not-bad outcome, but each would require its price to be paid. Continuing to hesitate, however, would certainly result in the worst outcome...

Thus, on the morning of the fifth day after that twilight, he finally made up his mind and had the woman brought from the small black room to a guest room in the castle.

Seeing her still composed reassured Saen somewhat—perhaps she was telling the truth, perhaps his judgment was correct...

Realizing he might have imprisoned an honest and brave person, he felt a twinge of guilt, although he ultimately didn’t apologize, but silently ordered the guards to prepare her a sumptuous breakfast and clean clothes.

When Si Si saw the table full of delicacies, she finally breathed a sigh of relief.

If this wasn’t her last meal.

Then she must have won her bet.

"Do you still insist that you saw the Silver Moon Goddess?" Saen suddenly asked, watching the girl who was dining.

"Yes." Her affirmative answer was without a hint of hesitation; she had rehearsed it countless times offline and had even conspired with her companions to align their testimony.

No matter how hard the NPC in front of her thought, he couldn’t possibly know that she had spent the past five days perfecting the lie, and with the help of her friends, had filled in every detail flawlessly.

The reason why the Lord of Petra Fortress hadn’t killed her outright was probably because he still had thoughts about the Resistance Army in his mind.

And this would become a breakthrough.

She needed to present sufficiently strong evidence to prove her words true, and the Lord of Petra Fortress also needed a reliable proof to convince himself, as well as other nobles and priests who might be persuaded.

And all the clues were actually hidden in the book "Oasis under the Tobal Mountain Range" and "Silver Moon Holy Words," which was recommended by that academy researcher.

Si Si couldn’t help but feel emotional in her heart.

Who would have thought that the books she bought out of curiosity would accidentally save her life?

"What evidence do you have?" As the folks on the forum had guessed, the NPC in front of her indeed uttered this line.

She, who had prepared her reasoning, replied adeptly.

"My companions and I are the evidence; we saw the same dream vision. Especially one of my companions, her dream vision was the clearest, and furthermore... she conversed face to face with the Silver Moon Goddess about the specifics of the prophecy."

"Can you tell me which companion it is?" Saen’s tone had lost its previous assertiveness and now carried a hint of inquiry.

"Of course, I can."

After enjoying the sumptuous meal and fruits, Si Si took a napkin to wipe her mouth and continued calmly, "But she is very timid, you must ensure her safety."

Saen touched the crown of his head with his index finger, his tone sincere.

"I swear by the Spirit of the Sand Sea and the Silver Moon Goddess."

Si Si stared at him for a moment.

"Her name is Sesame Paste."

Saen paused for a moment, the pronunciation sounding strange.

"Sesame... Paste?"

The corners of her mouth curved slightly, her voice carrying a touch of relaxation and pleasure.

"Yes, it sounds quite like a cat’s name, doesn’t it?"

Saen nodded blankly.

Although the cats he kept in the castle didn’t bear that name, the pronunciation indeed didn’t seem like one that ordinary people would use.

After a pause, Si Si continued.

"She is a cat who transformed into a human during our journey. I know this sounds unbelievable; we were equally astonished by the change in her, unclear what had happened. It wasn’t until our knights’ journey took us to the province of Falling Leaves that we gradually started to uncover a bit of the mystery of her origin."

Saen swallowed: "Her origin..."

"According to the records in ’Silver Moon Holy Words,’ the Silver Moon Goddess adores cats, allowing them to enter her sleeping palace and look after her daily needs. The reason why the cats under Zobar Mountain accept believers’ offerings with pride is because they serve a god—that was a clue I uncovered while researching relevant documents..."

Watching Lord Saen of Petra City standing agape, Si Si continued with a determined and serious tone.

"We only found out later, her transformation into a human wasn’t just a coincidence—it was because she was carrying a mission given to her by the Silver Moon Goddess."

"That’s also why she saw the Silver Moon Goddess on the land illuminated by Xiaguang!"

What happened next was the scene that unfolded before.

Lord Sain gathered all the well-respected nobles of the city and the priests of the temple, along with the guards, and went to the White Bear Knights’ station.

When Si Si lifted the cover off the Sesame Paste and proclaimed her "Messenger of God" status, the atmosphere at the scene once again became tumultuous.

However, unlike last time, upon seeing the cat ears on top of Sesame Paste’s head, upon observing how close the cats in the city were to her...

Even the most stubborn Old Priest, with clouded pupils, couldn’t help but appear a bit bewildered, unconsciously finding himself at a loss for words to refute.

What followed seemed only natural.

Si Si repeated to those self-proclaimed devout nobles and priests what she had told the lord at dawn.

Then she turned to Old Buma, continuing in a sincere tone.

"I’m sorry to have kept this from you, but our purpose in coming here isn’t merely for trade, but rather guided by the Silver Moon Goddess."

Old Buma’s Adam’s apple moved, and his eyes flickered with shock and disbelief.

Such a claim...

He wasn’t necessarily unreceptive to it.

After all, good people do not lie.

These people, after rescuing him from the hands of the Looter, did not claim his cattle and luggage for themselves, but kindly returned them to him... This indeed did not seem like the act of ordinary individuals.

After all, it is permitted by the doctrine of the Spirit of the Sand Sea to accept compensation from those you save.

"So the money you... gave to those poor people was also?"

"It is the will of the Silver Moon Goddess,"

Si Si asserted without a hint of embarrassment.

"The followers of the Spirit of the Sand Sea suffer from hunger on her protected lands, where there is plenty of food and fresh water. Yet those in possession are blinded by money. Therefore, she entrusted us to save those brethren you’ve abandoned."

Old Buma’s face filled with guilt.

The Spirit of the Sand Sea had taught them to extend a helping hand to those in suffering, yet he had selectively ignored those very brethren enduring hardship.

Even when this kind young woman offered to help those poor people, he was still weighing pros and cons, trying to convince her not to give to the poor with the argument "Golden Lion Coins will soon be worthless."

Indeed.

His faith was still not devout and pure enough...

Standing next to Lord Sain, Count Roskin, who was serving as the diplomatic officer, wore an expression of disbelief.

Of course, he didn’t believe a word of the woman’s nonsense, but for the moment he couldn’t think of a reason to refute it.

Actually, it was understandable.

How could a story that the sand sculpture netizens on the Forum spent five days crafting be easy to debunk after just one hearing?

Even if one wanted to argue for the sake of arguing.

It would take listening to it a couple more times to find an angle to dispute.

Seeing that crowd standing there silent, Meat Meat looked nervously at Tail beside her and whispered in a hushed voice.

"What exactly are these people up to?"

Tail stroked her chin, frowning as if in deep thought.

"It’s possible... they are considering that matter."

Seeing her serious expression, Meat Meat swallowed.

"That matter?"

"Yes!" Tail nodded earnestly, turning towards the center of everyone’s attention, to Sesame Paste, and said with certainty, "They must be planning to offer Sesame Paste as a sacrifice to the evil god sealed in the Lost Valley! In exchange for the oasis’ peace!"

"Ah???" Meat Meat exclaimed softly, quickly asking, "How, how did you come to that conclusion?"

If that were true, wouldn’t they be in danger?

At that thought, Meat Meat felt her calves start to give way.

The other Variants were okay.

But that monster, whose appearance was far too Lovecraftian, really made her feel physically unwell.

"Eh? Isn’t the combination of cat-girl and tentacle monster common knowledge?" Tail froze for a moment, giving Meat Meat a puzzled look, as if wondering why she was surprised, "Isn’t that what’s drawn in the doujinshi?"

"..."

The emotions that had been brewing inside her instantly disappeared, and Meat Meat moved a little away with an expression suggesting she didn’t know him.

But getting sidetracked like this, she no longer felt nervous and worried.

The old priest in the white robe took two steps forward, his gaze fixed on the cat ears on top of Sesame Paste’s head, staring at them for a long time before saying in a tremulous voice.

"You... really met the Silver Moon Goddess?"

Though she was full of nervousness, in order not to let down her companions’ efforts, Sesame Paste seriously nodded her head.

"Yes."

Whispers spread among the crowd.

Excitement flickered in the old priest’s eyes, and he reached out tremblingly. But seeing the amber-colored pupils of the cat in her arms staring at him, he quickly stopped the impolite gesture and withdrew his hand.

It was said that the Silver Moon Goddess would possess her beloved pet.

He could feel that the God was watching him.

Holding back his excitement, the old priest’s voice carried a tint of veneration.

"What did you see... in the prophecy?"

Faced with those unfamiliar, expectant, or wandering eyes, Sesame Paste’s face showed her discomfort as she looked to Si Si for help.

’What should I do?’

Si Si, standing beside her, gave her an encouraging look.

’Just repeat that nonsense I taught you in the group chat.’

’Okay...’

After a brief exchange of glances, she gathered her courage.

Responding to those suspicious, excited or hesitant gazes, she put on a solemn and sacred expression and lowered her eyelids. Then she began to speak slowly.

"I saw a beam of Light."

"Light?! What happened then?" The old priest asked anxiously.

As everyone waited with bated breath and the old priest leaned in eagerly, Sesame Paste continued in an even tone.

"A radiance hotter than the sun blossomed upon the land of mortals, followed by endless flames burning across the desert... Rivers evaporated, oases scorched, the Jubar Mountains reduced to barrenness, even the snowflakes were cursed. Tens of thousands died in the catastrophe, and the remaining survivors wailed in hunger."

Her language was plain, so she spoke slowly, but every word was pronounced clearly.

The description of the apocalypse aligned almost perfectly with the beliefs, legends, and nursery rhymes of the Camel Hump Kingdom about the "Twilight of the Gods".

All this was recorded in the book "Oasis under Tobal Mountain Range".

But the old priest didn’t make that connection.

None of the nobles present thought along those lines.

The "catastrophe that caused the fall of The God of the Sky" wasn’t a secret, but it also wasn’t something every visitor would explore, those kinds of details not typically encountered in everyday life.

Even ignoring the title of "Messenger" and the bizarre tale of "transformation from cat to human", a young girl coming to the oasis for the first time, barely speaking like a human, yet described the "end times" so clearly, even matching the obscure scriptures...

What else could it be, if not a prophecy?

Could it all be just a coincidence?

"I’m not... I don’t disbelieve."

Seeing the Lord of Petra and the old priest looking at him, Count Roskin, who had interrupted the Messenger’s speech, braced himself to speak tactfully.

"I believe what she says could be true, but there may be ways other than going to war to prevent the prophecy. There might be some misunderstanding; I suggest we send a messenger to talk with the Army, to persuade them to leave the cursed land."

"They will consider this proposal, after all, it’s for their own good."

Attempts on the Lost Valley had been made before.

But the lingering "curses" had inflicted them with horrible diseases.

Some medicines could lift the curse or even heal the damage it caused, but not everyone could afford such costly remedies... at least it was unlikely that they could be provided to over ten thousand soldiers.

He thought it was worth discussing.

The old priest didn’t speak, his fervent gaze completely fixed on Sesame Paste—or rather, on the Messenger.

He had come to believe in her identity.

The prophecy of the apocalypse wasn’t terrifying.

If the Silver Moon Goddess had foreseen all this, She surely knew how to prevent that dreadful event from recurring in this land.

Lord of Petra actually took the suggestion from Count Roskin seriously for two seconds.

After all, he wasn’t just representing himself, he also stood for all the nobles in Petra Fortress who favored joining the Army.

"That makes sense, you’re right."

Encouraged by the affirmative response from the Lord, Count Roskin’s face showed joy.

However, before he could express his gratitude, the Lord turned to the Chief of the Guard and continued in a hearty voice.

"Arrange a camel for our Count here, and send a team of Cavalry with him, to go talk to the Army in the Lost Valley."

Count Roskin’s mouth fell open in astonishment as he realized the Lord wasn’t joking, and fear slowly crossed his face.

The Chief of the Guard saluted with a fist over his chest.

"Yes!"

"But, my Lord—"

Just as Count Roskin was anxious to say something, he was interrupted by the lying woman standing next to the Messenger.

"Let Count Roskin ride a motorcycle there," Si Si quickly took up the conversation, blinking her eyes, "It’s over one hundred and fifty kilometers, a motorcycle is quicker!"

Lord Saen paused, then laughed heartily and waved his hand.

"Good point!"

"Approved!"