The Outer God Needs Warmth-Chapter 198: Beauty and the Beast (8)

"I headed east with the soldiers.

We had to walk for quite a while until the water above us disappeared.

Victoria's sea covered an enormous area that stretched all the way from the south when she was in the east. After we left the city and walked for some time, we ended up at a mountain that was quite far away.

Since the military had passed through the entrance of the mountain, all the trees were bent, lying on the ground, and countless footprints were visible.

It was the trace left by the army.

Following that trace, I climbed halfway up the mountain, still holding the wind-up machine's hand.

As soon as I arrived at the middle of the mountain, I saw old buildings with half their paint peeled off and newly built tents mixed together. Among them, soldiers, drenched like rats that had fallen into the water, were scattered here and there.

The most noticeable were the wind-up machines, some slightly bigger than humans, and some as large as three times a person’s size.

These weren’t exoskeletons; they were more like robots, operated by people inside them.

There were hundreds of these machines. It’s clear now why Marquis Gaston was confident that he could quickly suppress the minor disturbance that occurred in Vern City.

If there were no areas where mana couldn’t be used, this would’ve been solved by now.

In a place full of these wind-up machines, a unique building stood tall. I could see a supply base for wind-up machines, and it had the name 'Gun & Rufoo' on it.

I remember that it was a company related to programming, but judging from the equipment they provide, it seems they might be handling the equipment as well.

Or perhaps, it’s the kind of equipment needed to modify the internal programs of the wind-up machines here?

I’ll find out soon enough.

The man, who seemed to be the commander, entered what appeared to be the command center, leaving only the soldiers and the people riding the wind-up machines. And my appearance, not much different from a harvester, attracted several sharp stares from afar.

Once I meet with the highest-ranking person, Marquis Gaston will likely shake me down with the fact that he’s already dead and that he attacked the royal family.

Either way, it’s fatal in the military.

At that moment, someone emerged from inside with the commander. He was wearing very fine clothes, not a military uniform, and as soon as he came out, he kicked me hard in the chest.

Thud!

Ah, my ribs broke.

“Soldiers, listen! Vern City has been utterly destroyed! Why, you ask? Because this witch was behind it! She organized the protestors and attempted to betray the royal family! That means she’s a lying traitor!”

He said that and kicked my chest and stomach several times. Ugh, seeing him do that, it seems like he doesn’t want me to speak.

He’s treating me as a traitor, and it looks like he wants to spin the events from Vern City into something about taking down a rebellious faction.

Smart move.

Then, he came closer and slapped my cheek.

For an ordinary person, it would have been enough to disorient them. Judging from the calluses on his hand, this person must be quite strong.

“Look at that filthy face! This is the face of the witch who slaughtered your people and brought Vern City to hell!”

He said that and hit my chin, causing a concussion.

Of course, I didn’t stop functioning because of that.

But pretending to lose consciousness, I let my body go limp, and he came closer, grabbing my hair and yanking me up. Then he hit my stomach again.

Hmm? Is he trying to wake me up?

So, following his intent, I faked regaining consciousness. The man brought his head close to mine and asked,

“Apologize, witch. Admit to your crimes for turning Vern City into hell and killing countless people! If you’ve committed a crime, you must beg for forgiveness! Speak! Now, soldiers! This witch still doesn’t realize her crimes! If that’s the case, we’ll have to show her directly! All troops, assemble!”

At his command, people began gathering one by one.

Many looked on with faces full of satisfaction, enjoying the spectacle.

Once a crowd gathered, the man holding me said to the soldiers,

“Each of you, tell this witch the crimes she committed!”

In other words, they wanted to release their grudge.

Then a soldier spoke, saying his lover, who lived in Vern City, got caught up in the protest and died, and that his family had also perished in the fight.

One by one, people started pouring out their grievances—lost comrades, missing relatives from Vern City, and so on.

Quite a skillful performance.

Is this gaslighting, like in a gaslamp fantasy?

To put it simply, they’re creating an /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ easy target for resentment and then breaking it down, uniting the group in the process.

First, they’re cornering me with collective pressure, labeling me as the criminal. If I cave in and say yes, then the man holding me will have succeeded in his plan.

Right now, the truth is not the most important thing.

The person speaking while accusing me believes it to be true, and those around them will believe I am the villain as well.

This will chain-react, and I will become the witch. The madness of the group easily shatters an individual’s sense of self. Judgment becomes dull, and people simply follow what others do. This is a true witch hunt.

It’s about finding a victim and torturing them for fun. This kind of thing happens across time periods, as seen in the history of the Inquisition, for example.

They differentiate between 'us' and 'you,' labeling 'you' as evil and 'us' as justice. So, they deal with the evil to establish justice and consume the process as entertainment.

In short, what’s happening right now is a cathartic moment for the people, as they beat up the sinner who caused the chaos in the city.

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Who wouldn’t enjoy it? If they’re not enjoying it, they could very well experience the same fate. Everyone is enthusiastically condemning me in loud voices.

And even if it’s later proven to be false, it’s easy to escape.

Or maybe not. They’ve already conspired, so they’ll all share the same guilt, right?

The funniest part is that this is considered the best outcome. At least, it’s functioning with a minimum level of sociality—where doing good is enjoyable and evil deeds make people feel bad.

If that gets destroyed and people are considered foolish for not doing bad things, that’s when society truly falls apart.

Anyway.

Group pressure is truly excellent.

It’s a brutal trick that’s hard to endure for anyone.

Yes, if you’re human, that is.

Right now, my body is a mess of bruises. My eyes are swollen, and my teeth are all gone. My insides are a wreck as well.

The soldiers around me all accuse me, and the man relentlessly tortures me to force a response from me.

Just one little girl.

He thinks that by trampling me and turning me into a criminal, once I’m executed, they can just pretend nothing happened.

Hehe.

It’s already connected.

Of course, if they take my warmth, I’ll become a monster. Who knows what I might do then? I might expose my truly fatal weakness.

I know how horrific taking warmth is.

Yes. So, I won’t use that method.

Instead, I’ll do this.

“Contact the royal family.”

Even though my teeth were almost all gone and I pronounced it in a mangled way, it’s not like he didn’t understand, right?

In fact, the man, enraged, slapped my cheek with all his strength.

With a crack, my jaw shattered, and my face caved in.

But it was as if I’d just drunk ice water—the surroundings fell silent.

No, it’s that my eardrums must’ve burst.

Right now, the only sense still working in my body is touch. I can faintly feel the air vibrating.

The sound of shouting and yelling must be filling the air.

My words won’t cause much of a stir. The madness of the crowd can easily bury it. But the questions linger.

I planted a seed.

I was dragged somewhere. The faintly visible ground was dirt. The cold hands of the wind-up machine released, and I felt a slight floating sensation before landing on the cold ground.

Judging by the feel, it’s a cot.

The surroundings are dark, so it must be inside a tent.

Bell’s body isn’t at risk of death at this point. In other words, it means I can return to normal at any time.

I could recover anytime, but I deliberately stay in this state.

If I recover now, I’ll just be swept up in the madness again. I need more time.

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During that time, I watched Polaris and Victoria meet.

It’s quite interesting.

Polaris, who got the address from me, stood at the barrier she had created by destroying all obstacles, confirming the address.

She then walked around it several times, finally realizing that Victoria’s house had once been right in the middle of that barrier.

With a look of despair, Polaris sat down.

Victoria approached her.

She had checked the numbers too, so she knew why Polaris was sitting there.

The sea that had been dripping in droplets completely stopped.

Polaris, with a shudder, stared at Victoria.

Without saying anything, Victoria approached Polaris. Polaris kept staring at Victoria’s face, then hurriedly got up and relayed that I had been captured.

Victoria looked at Polaris with a very strange expression.

She asked how I was still alive with only my hands remaining.

Huh? Didn’t Victoria see me regenerate multiple times?

No, wait.

It’s not strange to think it’s hard to regenerate when only my hands are left.

But why does it sound like Polaris is hallucinating? Why are her pupils shaking?

Earlier, if I hadn’t been there, she would have been able to escape alone, right?

With a pale face, Polaris stumbled around, muttering that she’d search the area first and if there was no one, she’d run somewhere else, suggesting that we leave if there’s no one inside.

Excuse me? What about me?

Well, I suppose it’s fine if you don’t come, but I’m not dead, you know?

Victoria, filled with murderous intent, seems to ignore Polaris’s words, but surprisingly, Victoria cleared away the debris at the bottom.

Without a word, they agreed to leave if no one was found.

Even if Morris and Beatrice were dead inside, the bodies would already have been cleared away.

It’s not like they were in any condition to think logically. Neither of them.

The two of them rummaged through the debris, confirming there were no bodies beneath, and then, both of them stopped, their faces showing they were lost."