The true followup phrase was “Restoration was impossible. ‘Victoria Nike’ had no wings, no head, no arms,” but that phrase had not yet been revealed to the world. Somehow, she had to fabricate the situation with the remaining circumstantial evidence.

“Do you know the saying ‘A broken bowl is still a broken bowl, even if you glue it back together?'”

As Ariadne spoke directly to the Porto merchant, she reached out her hand to Cesare, who was standing by her side with a blank expression. Cesare spread his hands in question, then pointed to the sword at his waist.

‘Do you mean the sword?’

Ariadne glanced to the side and frowned.

‘The baton. You always carry a baton with you.’

Cesare, surprised and questioning how she knew that, released the iron baton he carried behind his sword at his waist and handed it to Ariadne.

Taking the baton, Ariadne left the guest seat in the center of the hall and went up to the platform set up in front.

It was the spot where ‘Victoria Nike’ was displayed. The space, elevated about 2 piedi (approximately 1 meter) from the ground, allowed her figure to be clearly seen by the audience.

The Porto merchant continued to shout.

“Sure, if a broken wing was restored, there would be a little gold plating. But does that diminish the value of the statue? Is a statue a water vessel? Is it going to hold water? What’s wrong with a bit of gold plating!”

“If a broken bowl falls, it will break again in the same place, right?”

“What’s the same about a bowl and a statue?! A decorative statue isn’t a daily used bowl, there’s no water to hold or weight to bear, so what’s the big deal if the wing has a little gold plating! It was all made during the Hellenic era! They’re the same!”

Ignoring the ranting Porto merchant, Ariadne approached ‘Victoria Nike’, placed atop a wheeled podium.

‘Victoria Nike’ was very heavy, so the wheels of the podium were unusually large to facilitate transportation. The diameter of the wheels looked to be at least half a piedi (about 20 centimeters) each.

Taking a breath, Ariadne evaluated the podium carefully before lifting the iron baton high. The wheel she chose was the one closest to the audience.

Crack!

And she struck it with all her weight.

The baton hit the wheel squarely. Although Ariadne’s strength was not enough to break the iron joint connecting the podium and the wheel, the wooden wheel itself broke into three pieces joyfully.

As the wheel shattered, the podium tilted, and the large statue, having lost its balance, slowly began to topple forward.

“What are you doing!!!!”

The Porto merchant, a beat too late, screamed in horror, and the honored guests below the stage also screamed as they watched the falling statue.

“Get out of the way!”

“It’s falling!”

The podium where stood, and the VIP seating, were kept at a safe distance. Nonetheless, the guests were disoriented, rising from their seats and frantically moving back.

The Porto merchant grabbed his hair and continuously screamed from behind, but peculiarly, he took no action to catch the collapsing .

Krrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr⋯⋯ Thump!

The sounds of the remaining three wheels failing to roll due to the misalignment and incorrect wheel angle, and the unpleasant sound of marble and wood friction filled the room, and as the slope suddenly steepened, the marble statue eventually fell from the stage to the ground floor where the VIP seats were located.

What Ariadne broke was the left wheel. fell diagonally from the left corner, slamming its left wing into the shiny and sturdy oak floor of the Marquis Chiabo’s house.

The statue fell and the commotion subsided. The that had fallen and smashed into the oak floor was a single intact piece, without a single break.

“Is this statue really goldplated?”

She kindly added a comment in case people couldn’t understand.

“If it were goldplated, the wings would have broken again when it was shocked, but this statue is as smooth as if it were newly made.”

Ariadne jumped off the podium in front of the shocked crowd and went down next to the fallen on the floor. She stroked the pink marble and continued speaking.

“If it wasn’t newly made, then someone restored it beautifully and it was very well preserved underground. But, do you all know the two biggest differences between Helleniaera sculptures and contemporary marble sculptures?”

She stroked the marble with her fingers. Everyone in the hall was watching her.

“Ancient pagans painted marble statues. They dyed the skin apricot, the hair brown, and colored the clothes according to the status of the figure. The more wellpreserved a Helleniaera marble statue is, the more dye it contains. This is a story that every skilled art dealer knows.”

Nothing stuck to her fingers.

“This statue is very clean.”

The audience was unable to breathe, fixated on Ariadne.

“But, isn’t this statue a beautiful pink color. If the marble was this bright pink, there would be no need to paint the skin color separately. Isn’t that right, Lady Chiabo?”

Ariadne asked Lady Chiabo, who was closest to her. She was taken aback by Ariadne’s question and simply agreed.

“That, that must be the case?”

“But why did the ancient Hellenes paint marble?”

“That, I don’t know.”

Ariadne let go of the overwhelmed Lady Chiabo and returned to the side of the statue.

“Hellenia people lived at the eastern end of the central continent, and the marble that came out from there was not pink, but a dull grey color. Pink marble is a specialty that only comes from the northern Etruscan, especially the city of Rastera where this statue was discovered!”

Ariadne stood tall next to the giant statue and looked around at the people.

“Why on earth was a statue that should have been in the city at the eastern end of the central continent, Tibos, discovered in Rastera, a remote rural corner with nothing but a quarry, not in Moor Empire where it would have floated if it was looted, nor in San Carlo which would have appeared through the black market if it was stolen!”

She still held the baton in her hand and slammed it on the fallen , no, the imitation of .

“Do you still have anything else to say, Vincenzo del Gato!”

“I have one more question to ask him.”

A man’s tenor voice suddenly echoed in the hall dominated by Ariadne. It was Count Cesare de Como, who had been leisurely watching Ariadne’s onewoman show from the guest seat.

“Is your name really ‘Vincenzo del Gato’?”