Gathering Wives with a System Chapter 439: You Ask For Truth, You Get The Truth

A peculiar hush hung within the tent.

This was the sort of quiet that prompted everyone to glance around instinctively, uncertain about what might unfold next.

Sword Maiden’s second disciple whipped her head toward her master right away. For a split second, she feared Sword Maiden would erupt in fury.

Yet upon closer inspection, Sword Maiden’s expression remained serene.

Her stance stayed upright, her gaze unwavering, and her breaths measured. To any outsider, everything seemed perfectly fine.

Then the second disciple spotted Sword Maiden’s arms.

They were folded across her chest, with the knuckles on her right hand gone stark white from the intense grip of her fist.

The disciple’s heart lurched.

’She’s furious!’ she realized with a jolt.

Her thoughts raced to find a method to defuse the mounting tension before it worsened.

"What kind of idiot is he?" she blurted out hastily, injecting a forced chuckle into her tone. "This is clearly nonsense. It’s tough to believe anyone could fool Bjorn’s lie detection skill, but that’s got to be it. Still, I can’t figure out what he hopes to achieve by spouting this during the test."

She rattled off her words fast, aiming to ease the escalating strain.

Her gaze darted back to Sword Maiden, gauging the response.

Sword Maiden offered no reply.

She merely fixed Isaac with a composed look that somehow radiated greater peril.

Bjorn emitted an uneasy laugh.

"Sword Maiden... is your maid?" he echoed, evidently baffled. "Care to elaborate on that?"

Bjorn’s objective remained straightforward.

The hypnosis dulled Isaac’s thoughts, complicating his efforts to sustain deceptions. Though Isaac appeared to evade the lie detection, the hypnosis still induced mental lag in him, bound to lead to a slip-up and expose contradictions eventually.

All Bjorn required was for Isaac to keep speaking.

Yet the instant Isaac’s mouth opened, Bjorn regretted his choice.

"Sword Maiden becomes known as Sword Empress later on. She stands as one of humanity’s key pillars, and a grumpy elder who flies into a rage whenever called old. Plus, she’s a massive pervert."

The tent turned utterly still.

Regrettably, Isaac pressed on.

"She portrays a saintly image publicly, but she constantly peeks on my evenings with my wives. And as she observes, she satisfies herself."

A heavy silence descended over the tent. Unlike the prior taut quiet, this one proved far graver.

Bjorn’s jaw dropped gradually.

After several drawn-out moments, an odd noise slipped from his mouth.

"...what?"

Isaac, under hypnosis, took it as encouragement to proceed.

"On top of that, she snaps at me the following morning like it’s my doing that she spied. She maintains utmost poise before others, but her real—"

Suddenly, a rift split the space within the tent.

Sword Maiden emerged from the rift.

In the blink of an eye, she stood before Isaac.

Her hand lashed out, seizing his collar and hoisting him airborne as though he were weightless.

"What the hell are you saying!?"

Her shout reverberated across the tent.

She scorched him with her fiery glare.

Even more striking was her flushed face.

It had gone entirely crimson.

Isaac hung limply in her grasp, oblivious to his peril.

With clear wits, he’d have grasped two facts at once.

First, the past Sword Empress possessed stunning beauty. Her keen dignity merged with her wrathful glare and flawless figure in a mesmerizing fashion.

Second, her rage was authentic.

"How dare you fabricate such lies!?" she bellowed once more.

"Lies?" Isaac’s words came sluggishly. "I’m not lying—"

Before he could complete his thought, Isaac’s eyes rolled upward and shut.

His form slackened.

Bjorn triggered his power anew, plunging Isaac into slumber to halt further escalation.

Had Isaac kept going, Sword Maiden might have slain him right there.

Sword Maiden’s eyes whipped toward Bjorn.

A shiver raced down Bjorn’s back.

His every sense blared warnings of peril.

"Such a crude fellow!" Bjorn stammered. "He must’ve employed some trick to dodge my lie detection! No other reason fits!"

Sword Maiden’s teeth clenched audibly.

Her poised facade had shattered entirely.

"Helen!" she barked. Without pause, she flung Isaac through the spatial tear she’d opened. Her second disciple waited beyond. "Drag him to my office. I’ll handle the questioning personally."

"Yes, Master!"

Helen sprang into action.

She snatched Isaac’s limp body in both arms, spun on her heel, and bolted. The crushing aura pouring from Sword Maiden was palpable, and Helen wanted no part of it longer than required.

As she dashed along the hallway, her gaze flicked momentarily to Isaac’s visage.

Even in unconsciousness, his countenance stayed tranquil.

Helen sighed inwardly.

’Such a pity for that striking face. If death was your goal, simpler paths existed,’ she mused.

Within the tent, tension lingered thickly.

Sword Maiden pivoted slowly toward Bjorn.

"Not a whisper of this leaves here. Should even a hint of rumor reach me, ready yourself," she warned.

Her voice stayed soft.

Yet the menace rang crystal clear.

Bjorn bobbed his head vigorously.

"I was never present," he assured at once.

In usual times, Bjorn earned repute for his steady, esteemed demeanor.

To an onlooker, his swift compliance might seem laughable.

But appearances meant nothing to Bjorn now.

He possessed sharp wits.

And the wise knew better than to rile a superior force.

Particularly one ablaze with wrath.

Wasting no time, Bjorn strode swiftly from the tent.

Once outside, his pace quickened to a near sprint.

Only two figures lingered inside the tent.

Sword Maiden.

And Gael.

Sword Maiden drew a deep breath, seeking composure.

Her focus already turned to the next move: witnessing Alice’s interrogation to discern if Isaac’s claims formed a broader ruse.

She moved to depart when—

"Master."

—Gael’s call halted her.

Sword Maiden halted and peered back.

"What?"

Gael wore a grin.

"I must confess, I never anticipated this side of you," he remarked casually.

"...what do you mean?"

Sword Maiden whirled to confront him fully.

Gael gave a light shrug.

"I’m saying, if his words hold truth, ponder the age gap. Doesn’t your future self’s behavior count as unlawful?"

"...Gael, are you implying his statements ring true?"

The icy edge in her tone could freeze most solid.

Yet Gael’s smile broadened.

He’d studied beneath her for years.

He’d witnessed that fiendish look innumerable times.

Though it unnerved him still, such moments were scarce.

"Haha, verifying it’s simple. If he’s truly your future disciple, just instruct him briefly. Should he grasp your techniques, then he’s indeed your disciple and all he claimed—"

Sword Maiden snapped her finger.

Silence blanketed the world.

As if noise had been utterly banished.

Gael’s words cut off abruptly.

But his smile persisted.

If anything, it widened a touch. He’d succeeded in irking her.

His lips parted once more. No sound emerged. Yet Sword Maiden read them plainly.

’I’ll look after him well.’

Gael’s grin turned playful.

’Seems he’ll become my master’s spouse one day.’

Sword Maiden regarded him briefly.

Then she spun and departed, ignoring further words.

Her gait remained steady.

But the subtle crimson on her earlobes hadn’t fully receded. Only she knew if it stemmed from ire or another emotion.