Chapter 91: The Optimal Answer Is Often Not Chosen
January 15th, 838 of the Common Calendar, exactly noon, Ruls District, Ruls Station.
As one of the only two steam train stations in the City of Alova, Ruls Station, located in the Ruls District, was only slightly smaller than Alova Station in the Stadcon District.
Following the bustling crowd boarding the carriage, Sylvia, concealing her inhuman features, used the Authority of Sloth to change into attire appropriate for the current era.
Even so, the trio still attracted considerable attention.
After all, with their striking appearances, it was difficult not to draw others’ eyes.
But it went no further than that.
Thanks to the promotion by the Church of Radiance and the Church of Machinery, the status of women in the Western Alliance had seen a significant rise—markedly higher than in the Three Northern Kingdoms and the Republic of Ulis in the south.
Of course, this excluded Sabiance, the so-called “Nation of a Thousand Towers” in the Eastern Archipelago.
There, whether or not one faced discrimination depended on intelligence, not gender.
Once aboard the first-class carriage with the stream of passengers, Sylvia found her designated seat and settled in comfortably.
Next, they were to embark on a six-hour journey to Nuan City, the capital of the Avdant District bordering the Plant District.
There, a priest dispatched by St. Ruls Cathedral was currently spreading the faith of the Lord of Seven Sins.
With the blast of the steam whistle, the train began to move slowly.
Watching the scenery outside blur and streak backward, Isabella's face was filled with worry.
Seeing this, Sylvia let the black veil of Sloth drift between the two of them, ensuring their voices would not carry.
Then, she patted the other's pale golden hair and said with a smile:
“I know a few interesting things about steam trains.”
“Mm... things related to the extraordinary world.”
“Mm?”
A trace of curiosity appeared in Isabella’s eyes, easing much of her initial concern.
“Are you talking about railway puppets?”
Sitting in the seat ahead, Adela turned around with keen interest to join the conversation. Sylvia nodded.
“They’re creations of the Church of Machinery, designed to coordinate the steam trains running across the continent.”
“They’re called railway puppets because their appearance is defined by the Church of Machinery as proportionally scaled-down figures of young girls.”
“They were created using extraordinary methods related to the Messenger path, granting them the ability to communicate with one another.”
“In this way, they can unify and integrate the vast railway system spanning the continent, significantly reducing the occurrence of accidents.”
“And their existence can also be made known to the public, under the pretense that they are new creations jointly developed by the major railway companies and the Church of Machinery.”
Hearing this, Isabella was clearly intrigued.
“Are those railway puppets, like Your Highness, also puppets?”
Before Sylvia could answer, Adela interjected:
“They're not the same.”
“As puppeteers, we pursue perfection, while the craftsmen of the Church of Machinery pursue functionality.”
“They even install something called an ‘intelligent computation module’ in the railway puppets. Mm… I think that’s the name. Its purpose is to grant them intelligence.”
“And we puppeteers, in general, do not bestow intelligence upon our puppets.”
Sylvia nodded in agreement, while silently voicing a complaint in her heart:
Puppets made like that were soulless.
Soulless in every possible sense.
With the light conversation and teasing, the previously heavy mood gradually lifted, and the steam train steadily moved beyond the limits of the City of Alova.
However, at that very moment, Sylvia’s expression suddenly froze.
“Gah? What’s wrong?”
The first to notice something was amiss was Lakdevo, who was in his spiritual form.
“I…”
Sylvia's face twisted slightly, for in that instant, she perceived numerous anomalies!
An excessive yet seemingly reasonable sense of urgency, decisions made without thorough thought or analysis…
And only now did her spirituality alert her that something was amiss.
At the same time, she recalled the sealed River of the Dead and the Manifest Realm, as well as the fact that the Angel of the Sword, Aksia, had yet to arrive even though more than two hours had clearly passed!
This seal wasn’t aimed solely at Lakdevo. No—it might have included him, but that was definitely not the main target!
Their goal was to delay Aksia’s arrival!
There was absolutely no way she could have missed this earlier!
And yet, she hadn’t realized it at all!
With that thought, she extended her right hand, dragging her fingertips—brimming with spirituality—across the void, but not even the slightest ripple appeared.
The seal was still in effect!
At that moment, Lakdevo’s quiet voice rose beside her:
“Master, I believe the sealed area covers the entire Plant District—perhaps even the entire Kingdom of Savia.”
“Trust me, any one of the Upper Parliament’s senators is capable of pulling off something on this scale.”
“And the seal on the Manifest Realm most likely spans the entire Plant District, with a decent chance it covers the whole Kingdom of Savia. Ordinary Apostles can’t manage something of this magnitude. Perhaps only the Outer Gods could attempt it.”
“There is only one Outer God currently present in the Kingdom of Savia.”
“Moreover, I just sensed a trace of ‘corrected fate’ on you. That reminded me of another extraordinary path—”
“It’s called the ‘Fate Weaver.’ As the name suggests, they can weave the fate of others.”
Sylvia sighed and then pressed her hand to her forehead.
“I’ve been set up.”
“That, I can confirm.”
“And I can more or less guess the purpose of the ones who did it—”
“They want to eliminate the uncontrollable factors in the City of Alova.”
“Looks like they’re about to make their move.”
Just as her words landed, a powerful surge of spirituality pulsed from the rear of the train.
Sylvia and Lakdevo were the first to sense the anomaly. They turned their heads simultaneously, a strange glint flashing in their eyes as their vision pierced through obstacles into the distance.
There stood an illusory city.
It lay quietly sprawled across the land, as if the tremors just now had not originated from it at all.
The City of Alova.
That was the capital of the Plant District—where the anomaly had erupted before any rescue could arrive.
It confirmed Lakdevo’s earlier speculation: even if those divinity-laced entities had already left Alova, the anomaly there alone was enough to trigger an explosion.
As Sylvia gazed at the city, her expression gradually stiffened.
After an unknown span of silence, her murmuring voice finally reached the ears of the other two:
“Am I, just as Loruze said, abandoning the City of Alova?”
Hearing this, Lakdevo shook his head.
“No, you were merely deceived.”
“But with your intellect, you’ve already seen through it quickly.”
“However, I advise you not to return there.”
“My spirituality tells me that place is dangerous now—even for an Apostle.”
“If you choose to go back, exposure is inevitable.”
“Dangerous?”
Isabella immediately caught onto that word. Her expression shifted to urgency in an instant, as though she wanted to say something to Sylvia.
Yet in the next moment, it was as if she remembered something. Her voice caught in her throat, never escaping, and instead, she gripped the hem of her clothes tightly and lowered her head.
Sylvia turned her head to watch her reaction, while images of the clergy within St. Ruls Cathedral surfaced in her mind one by one. Eventually, she sighed.
“Lakdevo, your advice is indeed the optimal solution.”
“But at times, the optimal answer is not the one people ultimately choose.”
“From now on, your responsibility is to ensure Adela and Isabella arrive safely in Nuan City. Wait there for my arrival.”
“Is that clear?”
With those words, the gray-haired puppet stood up from her seat. As dense black veils spread outward, she issued the order to the three remaining behind—her tone brooking no objection.