The god of the citadel.

The morning of the following day, Mark woke up as he imagined, feeling terrible.

"I swear, I'll never get used to that torture." -He said with a painful groan.

Unfortunately, he didn't have the luxury of resting physically and mentally, as that day he would have to face one of the most challenging situations since he had been reincarnated, and he couldn't afford to be distracted.

He hurriedly got ready and left the house before the others woke up, heading to Narak's mansion. As usual, some people greeted him, and Mark mechanically returned the greetings, but the closer he got to the mansion, the more tension built up.

Once inside, he headed towards the mission board, but before he could approach it, he was stopped by a couple of guards.

"Mark, your presence is requested."

'Here we go.' -He thought.

Without saying a word, he followed the guards through the corridors of the mansion, their footsteps echoing on the marble floor. The walls adorned with tapestries and hunting trophies seemed to observe his every move.

They arrived in front of a large carved wooden door. One of the guards knocked, and an authoritative voice from inside responded, "Come in."

The guards opened the door, gesturing for Mark to enter. The room was spacious, with a large window letting in the morning light, illuminating Narak's stern face as he sat on a kind of imposing throne.

'I seriously wonder if he has some complex about being a real king.' -Mark thought, feeling perplexed.

"Mark, please, take a seat." -Said Narak, indicating a chair in front of him.

Mark sat down, trying to maintain a neutral expression. Inside the room, there were few people, including the two who were always with Narak, and a strange figure lying face down on a couch nearby.

'That person... is strange, he doesn't seem like an ordinary man.'

Even without his "insight" ability, he could sense a strange feeling from that person.

[That's a god.]

'...Are you serious?'

Mark had to look again at the man half-buried on the couch, unable to imagine that he was a god. In Mark's mind, the figure most similar to a god was Origon, but when he looked at that man again, besides feeling a strange sensation, he didn't seem different from any other person.

"So, boy, do you know why you've been summoned?" -Narak asked.

"Honestly, no." -Mark replied without much difficulty.

"Bullshit! Yesterday, Soka went out with you, but you came back alone, and there are several testimonies to confirm it!" -One of the guards near Narak burst out angrily.

'So it's him.' -Mark analyzed.

The man must have been the friend Soka referred to. He had a rather slim physique, and his grayish-black hair made him look like he was about fifty years old, but the most characteristic feature was his perfect handlebar mustache.

"Calm down, Vincent. As for this Soka, do you know where he is?" -Narak asked calmly.

"Dead." -Mark's response was straightforward.

Vincent seemed ready to explode, but Narak stopped him.

"Really? Then why didn't you report?" -Narak asked, his eyes growing colder.

"Was I supposed to?"

Mark's response left everyone unsure how to respond. It was true that almost no one cared if a guard died, especially if they didn't have a blessing, but that wasn't the real issue that concerned Narak.

"You're right. I don't care whether he's alive or dead. What interests me are the last words he left to Vincent, where he attests that you have a blessing. Now, I'm not doubting you, but you came back and he's dead. You understand why you seem suspicious to me."

The temperature in the room seemed to turn icy from his words and the tapping of his finger on the throne.

"Well, I'm afraid he lied because I don't possess any blessing." -Mark replied calmly.

"YOU!-" 

 "If you speak again before I permit it, your head will roll." -Narak's voice was sharp as he glared at Vincent.

Seeing he couldn't do anything, Vincent lowered his head.

"Now, the situation is this: on one hand, there's someone I've known for a long time making a claim, and on the other, there's the one who saved me, denying it. If we tried to uncover the truth simply by arguing, it would take a lifetime, so let's speed things up."

With a gesture, the other guard approached the god sleeping on the couch, and much to Mark's surprise, saw him thrown to the ground.

'Did he just throw down a god?' -Mark thought speechless, but his surprise grew even more when he saw the god still asleep.

"Morfeo, get your lazy ass up; there's work to do." -Narak said, irritated.

"Yaaaawn... nah." -The god had just opened his eyes before falling back asleep.

Seeing Narak was about to lose his temper, the guard lifted the god to his feet and repeatedly struck him to wake him up.

"I get it, I said I get it! Stop hitting me!"

Seeing the god was awake now, Narak spoke.

"Let me make introductions. This is Morfeo, the only god present in the citadel, but I wonder if it's true?" -The last question was directed at Mark.

Mark curiously observed the god. He had an androgynous appearance, with delicate and harmonious features, but his eyes carried a deep boredom for everything.

"If you don't have a blessing, you won't mind if he checks, right?"

"Of course," Mark replied confidently.

With the Guide, he had already ensured that no one would uncover his secret.

Morfeo approached Mark, bored, and after examining his back carefully, he came to a conclusion.

"He has nothing."

"?"

"What?"

'Phew...' -Mark finally managed to calm down.

"So, Vincent, it seems your friend Soka lied." -Narak said sarcastically.

"But there are just a couple of doubts I want to resolve as well. You don't mind if I ask a couple of questions, right?" 

Mark nodded after quickly glancing at Morfeo because he knew this was the true challenge.

As the Guide had explained to him in the past, gods were able to detect falsehoods in the words of mortals, and although this power was problematic in Mark's situation, it wasn't omniscient. The reason was that the truth they perceived was based on the person's true thoughts.

"First question, did you kill Soka?"

"No."

Narak looked at Morfeo, who didn't seem to have any reaction because, for Mark, the answer he had given was the truth. It wasn't him who killed Soka, but the monsters. That's why he let the monsters do the job; he didn't want to stain his truth.

If instead the question had been, "Were you responsible for Soka's death?", his answer would have been false.

"So how do you know he's dead?"

"I heard his screams and saw monsters approaching where he was."

"Weren't you together?"

"I left him because I couldn't stand him anymore. He was loud and fixated on the idea that I had a blessing."

The first part was a half-truth, while the second part was his real thoughts, so once again, Morfeo didn't detect any lies.

"So how do you explain the fact that you managed to face a dozen goblins together?!"

"Haaaa, it's true that I faced goblins during the monster invasion like I think everyone did." -Mark said, looking at them.

"But I'm sorry to tell you that they weren't a dozen as Soka claimed."

Once again, Morfeo didn't detect any lies because it was true that Mark hadn't faced a dozen goblins, but many more.

"Then-"

"Enough. We've wasted enough time, and it seems clear to me that this Soka was just trying to corner Mark."

At Narak's words, Vincent clenched his fist but then sighed. With Morfeo present, Mark couldn't have told any lies, so even though Vincent still had doubts, he had to accept the facts.

"Are we done?" 

As soon as he said those words, Morfeo flopped onto the couch and was already asleep in seconds.

Mark looked at him speechlessly when Narak spoke.

"It seems we've put you in an uncomfortable position for no reason, Mark."

"It's understandable."

"No, it's not. For the next week, you'll receive double credits for every mission you complete, and Vincent will have to accompany you each time." -Narak said magnanimously.

'Bastard.' 

Mark seethed in frustration and gritted his teeth. He had painstakingly solved a significant problem, only to find himself under surveillance for a week and the disturbing thought of potential future spies loomed ominously in his mind.

Even Vincent seemed to have something to say but decided it was wiser to remain silent.

Mark took a deep breath, trying to calm down as his thoughts churned in his mind. He accepted Narak's offer with a nod, although the feeling of being constantly watched didn't sit well with him at all. However, he knew he didn't have much choice if he wanted to continue operating in the citadel.

After the meeting, Mark found himself outside the throne room, accompanied by Vincent. Tensions between them were palpable, but both knew they had to work together for a while. Mark would have preferred to rest that day, but it would have seemed strange for someone without a blessing, but who had such support, not to take advantage of the situation. Plus, he had a plan.

So, he took a couple of missions, and together with Vincent, they headed towards the canyon, but not before stopping momentarily at the orphanage. They were both silent during the journey until Mark asked a question.

"Were you two very close?"

"I'm not sure if 'close' is the right term. We knew each other for a long time, and I have to say we got along quite well, but things changed over time, especially after he joined the guards, which is why I lost touch with him. Still, I wouldn't have wanted him to die being eaten by monsters."

Although he seemed gruff, Vincent honestly answered Mark's question.

"How did he change?" -Mark continued.

"Like everyone else, he became a piece of shit without control. He exploited every opportunity to be above others... Why are you looking at me like that?" -Vincent asked, confused by Mark's expression, but who could blame him?

Since Mark ended up among the guards, he hadn't found anyone decent, and when he finally found someone with a bit of empathy towards others, he turned out to be Narak's right-hand man.

"Nothing."

With that surprise, the two completed the missions without too many problems, or rather, Mark let Vincent take care of almost everything, and he limited himself to defeating weaker monsters, pretending to exert effort.

"Are you thirsty?"

Mark offered him his water bottle as they were returning to the citadel, and since Vincent had gone out without much equipment, including his water bottle, he was very thirsty.

He drank it all without suspecting anything, not noticing Mark's particular smile.