Gathering Wives with a System Chapter 436: The Greatest Proof Is Always The Simplest

Isaac picked up on the faint hesitation.

Even without catching any words, he knew exactly what was going on.

Gael was obviously locked in a fierce mental conversation with the vice general and the higher-ups.

The soldiers' shifting feet and glances at Gael showed the debate wasn't wrapping up quickly.

Another minute ticked by.

Finally, the vice general atop the ridge signaled with clear reluctance.

Mages dismissed their spell formations. Archers eased their bowstrings, while soldiers pulled back from the cliff rims.

Not in a rush, but bit by bit, the ridges cleared out.

Before long, the valley sank back into its prior silence.

Just the three of them lingered.

Gael sighed softly, rolling his shoulders.

"Sheesh. They worry about me like I’m a kid," he said.

He turned his eyes to Isaac once more.

"So. What is this special information? And why are you so open about sharing it?"

"We are from the future."

Gael just stared at him for a beat.

Isaac went on as if he'd mentioned the most normal thing ever.

"We want to work together with the Sword Empress to stop the apocalypse. Of course, the people from the Ladder of Heaven don’t know that we plan to defect to your side."

Gael’s eyes flickered sharply.

This reaction hit much harder than the last.

He'd imagined all sorts of things: secret intel, troop shifts, maybe even an ambush.

But this?

A quiet laugh slipped from him.

He shook his head deliberately.

"Do you have any proof—"

His words cut off abruptly.

Golden flames ignited out of nowhere.

They surged around Alice like a vibrant aura, spiraling in radiant curves. The flames scorched neither earth nor sky, yet their weight pressed down, dominating the whole valley.

Alice advanced with steady poise.

In a fluid arc, she gripped her battle axe’s handle and swung it casually aside.

The golden blaze trailed the swing.

For a split second, the air quivered.

Gael’s eyes went wide.

"You are a noble one?" he said.

Then his stare grew piercing.

"And that..."

His easy grin vanished entirely.

"That was the master’s Art."

A fearsome aura burst from him.

The very winds halted briefly under its force.

"How do you know that Art?" Gael asked.

Alice slung the axe over her shoulder.

"We are from the future. Isaac and I are the Sword Empress’ current disciples. This Art is one of the reasons we were chosen to come to the past. It was a surefire way to prove our allegiance," she said.

Gael held back his reply for now.

He remained still, eyes fixed on the dimming golden flames encircling Alice.

He hated to concede it, but deep down, belief was taking root.

Alice’s technique was impossible to mistake.

That Art came straight from the Sword Maiden.

Only a handful could mimic its essence without her direct guidance.

Yet Gael clung to vigilance.

Alternatives existed, after all.

Perhaps they'd picked it up by some hidden means. Or glimpsed it once and mimicked through raw genius.

Both ideas stretched belief.

Still, they beat the wild notion of future travelers.

At last, Gael exhaled.

"Alright. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt."

He folded two arms across his chest.

"But this much isn’t enough. You’ll need to give more proof, go through our lie detection abilities, and explain how exactly you came to the past—"

"We can’t tell you anything about the method of time travel," Isaac cut in.

Gael arched a brow.

"Why not?"

Alice spoke up this time.

"We don’t know the exact reason. But the one who helped us said that revealing anything related to the method would create time paradoxes."

Gael’s forehead creased.

Truth be told, part of him wanted to call it all a fabrication.

But the idea itself held water.

Time travel messing with paradoxes? Plausible enough.

Not hard to grasp at all.

Least of all for him.

He'd devoured plenty of time travel tales in novels.

It began by chance.

One day, he'd spotted the Sword Maiden with odd books in her downtime. Curiosity led him to peek, and soon he was addicted.

Tales of heroes, leaps through time, rebirths, alien realms, wild dilemmas.

Naturally, he'd never breathe a word of it aloud.

If the Sword Maiden learned he'd spilled her romance novel secret, she'd haul him through torment once more.

The mere thought of those drills sent a shiver through Gael.

Alice blinked at his odd twitch.

Isaac eyed him with faint puzzlement too.

Gael cleared his throat and stood tall.

"Anyway," he said. "We’ll now check for more proof. As for the lie detection test, we can handle that back at the base."

Isaac nodded. "Then I will—"

"No," Gael broke in. "You don’t need to show anything."

Gael’s smile crept back, now tinged with playfulness.

"I’ll check it myself."

There was a foolproof way to verify a true disciple of the Sword Empress.

Near flawless accuracy.

Gael delved into his spatial ring.

Seconds later, out came a bat.

Nothing fancy—just plain wood.

But Isaac and Alice both recoiled on instinct the instant they spotted it.

Shoulders stiffened; they edged back half a step unconsciously.

Gael’s grin stretched further.

That response.

He recognized it intimately.

No fake could nail it that well.

The bat was ordinary.

A mere prop.

Yet every Sword Empress disciple grasped its meaning instantly.

Even gripping the replica had his hands shaking wildly at first, nearly fumbling it.

Years passed before he quit flinching.

The authentic one?

Gael shoved the recollection aside. No need to dwell.

"That’s proof enough!" Gael declared, laughing.

He flung the bat back into his spatial ring casually.

Then he vanished.

One heartbeat, meters apart.

The next, sandwiched between them.

Before Isaac or Alice could move, Gael slung two arms over their shoulders, yanking them in tight.

"You can call me big brother. All of us disciples are siblings who’ve gone through the same hell, after all!" he said cheerfully.