The Meeting!

"The Dark Moon is fit only to reflect the shadow of Order." Tafman knew that was still putting it mildly. What it really meant was that the Dark Moon wasn't even fit to carry Order's shoes. Yet Tafman took no offense, because Karen was speaking the truth. Everyone knew the Church of Order was powerful, but this war waged by Order against Samsara had made everyone realize that Order was even more formidable than anyone had previously imagined. Thus, whether from the perspective of personal growth or factional advancement, Dark Moon Island couldn't compare to the Church of Order in the slightest. Tafman said, "I can understand you, but as investors, your ambitions might ensure we never see a return on our investment." Karen countered with a question, "If it weren't for me, would you not invest in anyone else?" "You make a good point." Tafman nodded. It was a question of long-term investment versus short-term gains. However, Tafman knew full well that once Karen made this decision himself, Dark Moon Island had no hope of short-term returns anyway. You couldn't drag him back to Dark Moon Island by force and push his head down to make him wed. That would be the most short-sighted choice of all. "I look forward to seeing how far you can go in the Church of Order. As I said, I like your temperament." "Thank you for your appreciation." "Haha, alright, get some rest." Tafman walked out of the room. The moment the attendant at the door closed it, his expression instantly turned grim. He walked into the study, sat back down in his chair, and lightly stroked a blood-gem ring with his fingertips. He had to admit, he could not see through Karen. As a man who had roamed the high seas for half his life, he instinctively doubted everything. The sea was the greatest deceiver: one moment the skies could be clear and bright, and the next, tempestuous waves could rise. With no rhyme, no reason, and no evidence, he simply suspected that beneath this rock-solid chain of clues, there might lurk some undisclosed secret. It seemed absurd. If it truly were an orchestrated plot, it would be an astonishingly grand undertaking—and all that just to win his niece's favor? Yet there lay the problem. Tafman knew his niece had already taken a liking to Karen from their previous interaction in Wien. In this meeting, in all likelihood, it had been Karen's cold aloofness that led his niece to tell him she would extinguish those feelings. Furthermore, in their earlier conversation, Karen had clearly voiced his ambition: he wanted to continue along the path of Order, and he had made no effort to hide his disdain for the Dark Moon, even quoting Miss Purr to prove it. Fabricating the whole ordeal just to win his niece's heart? Yet from start to finish, Karen had taken the initiative to reject and resist steering their relationship toward marriage. Tafman knitted his brows. It was too contradictory. Just then, a knock sounded at the door. "Come in." The study door was pushed open, and Ophelia stood at the threshold. "Uncle." Tafman noticed that his niece didn't step inside. She had only stopped by to greet him, hoping he would promptly dismiss her so she could go see the man who had just saved her. He had always treated Ophelia like a daughter, and seeing her like this now stirred a faint pang of helplessness in his heart. "Has the banquet ended?" "Yes, Uncle." Tonight, his elder brother had hosted a banquet for several bishops, including Worflen, to foster good relations, with his niece in attendance. The moment it concluded, she had hurried back here. "He's awake. Go see him." "Alright, Uncle." Ophelia closed the study door. "Heh..." Tafman gave a self-deprecating chuckle, looking down at the blood-gem in his hand. He felt he still preferred commanding his fleet in battles against pirates and rival island factions. He knew that the adversaries he faced on the high seas, troublesome though they were, could eventually be defeated through careful maneuvering and strategy. Yet when it came to those aloof, orthodox churches, he was well aware that even if he won ten battles in a row, it wouldn't change the vast chasm in their power; while a single defeat on his side would mean the total annihilation of Dark Moon Island. He disliked dealing with unbeatable opponents—no, anyone would dislike it. Tafman rested a hand against his forehead and muttered to himself: "Light remnants..." ... The bedroom door opened, and Ophelia walked in. Karen was reclining against the headboard, sipping from a cup of tea that an attendant had just brought in. Ophelia stepped up to Karen, sat down at the edge of the bed, and asked with concern, "How is your recovery going?" "Thanks to your personal care, otherwise my injuries might have healed a long time ago." Hearing this, Ophelia's expression stiffened slightly, and she fell silent. Karen quickly set down his teacup and said, "Just kidding. Thank you for looking after me. Not just anyone gets to enjoy such treatment." Ophelia shook her head and asked, "How do you do it? How can you be so optimistic right after waking up from severe injuries?" "As long as I haven't been laid in a coffin, I do my best to keep an upbeat mood about life." "And once you are in a coffin?" "That way, muscle memory will take over when I'm lying in a coffin, and maybe I'll even keep smiling after I'm dead." "What would you like to eat?" Karen gave a start. "You're going to cook personally?" "No, I'll instruct the chef to prepare it." "Anything is fine." "And then? What should we do now?" Ophelia asked. "You saved me, you didn't die, you were badly hurt, you woke up, I'm sitting by your bed, you're cheerful, and your injuries aren't too bad because they were treated in time... What about me? What am I supposed to do now?" "You could face life with a smile." "You're brushing me off." "No, I'm not." "You are brushing me off," Ophelia said firmly. A faint smile appeared at the corner of her lips, though it held a trace of chill. "If I say I want to keep looking after you, or express my feelings for you, you'll definitely bring up your fiancée again to deflect me, or casually steer the conversation away." "Would I?" "You would." "So we understand each other that well already." "Growing up, practically everything I wanted, I got." "That's not a healthy way to raise someone. Be sure not to spoil your children like that in the future." "So, to hell with propriety!" Ophelia cursed. This was the first time Karen had ever heard the noble princess use profanity. Then Karen found his hand seized by Ophelia. At first he didn't pull back, but in the next second, her fingers intertwined with his. Karen tried to pull his hand away, but it wouldn't budge. Judging from their recent battle against the captain, he wasn't inferior to Ophelia when it came to spellcraft, but as a Dark Moon warrior, she possessed far greater physical strength than he did. She had steadily lost ground against the captain in close combat, but that was the captain, after all. Once Ophelia exerted her strength, Karen breaking free became rather unrealistic. Moreover, he noticed that as he pulled harder, Ophelia increased her grip in turn. In the end, Karen conceded and stopped pulling. Any further escalation would mean resorting to spells and having an outright brawl on the bed with Ophelia. The cold smile on Ophelia's lips didn't fade. Clasping Karen's hand, she leaned forward, wrapped her other arm around his waist, and pressed her face against his chest. Karen instinctively wanted to reach down and pry the princess's hand from his waist, but as if anticipating his move, Ophelia exerted force beforehand and hugged him even tighter. She shifted her head against his chest, settling into a comfortable position. "Sorry. It's my first time resting my head on a man's chest. I lack experience." "Um..." "You can keep resisting. It's fine. Even if you weren't injured, you wouldn't be a match for me up close, let alone now when you're hurt." "Never mind..." Once upon a time, a woman named Peige had complained to Fanny, saying she regretted not taking Karen by force the first time she saw him in the captain's office—because after a while, she realized she couldn't beat him in a fight anymore. Evidently, Ophelia was not about to make the same mistake as Peige. Karen remained sitting on the bed, while Ophelia stayed leaned against him. There was no sorrow or inner conflict on the princess's face. She seemed to have found clarity—or rather, the guidance of the Dark Moon. She wasn't a schoolgirl; she had no interest in putting on a brave face only to weep in secret. She was a princess, a warrior. If mutual affection wasn't an option, then she would start by making herself happy unilaterally. Having settled on that, her heart instantly felt bright and clear. "Ophelia..." "Oh, please don't say anything to ruin my mood right now, alright?" "But..." "Please put your hand on my back. That is the proper thing to do." "But..." "Can't you grant me even this tiny request? Just consider it helping a friend." Karen placed his hand on Ophelia's back. Ophelia remained leaned against his chest, her expression relaxed and at ease. "Have you held your fiancée like this too?" "Yes." "Is she very considerate, very gentle?" "Yes." "She wouldn't be like me, not even knowing how to lean on someone? I don't mean she has lots of experience, I just mean... maybe I'm really not your type. You like the gentle, quiet sort, right? It's fine, just answer me honestly. I only want the truth." "Right." The moment "right" left his mouth, Karen felt the hold around his waist tighten. What happened to "it's fine"? "You said you met your fiancée through a blind date arranged by your families." "Mm, that's right." "If your first blind date had been with me, would you have ended up with me?" Karen hesitated. "Answer me," Ophelia urged. "I would have." "Why?" "Because you're very beautiful too." "Do you only judge women by their looks?" "On a first meeting during a blind date, what else would you look at?" "So it's just because I came too late, is that it?" "Call it fate." "Your definition of love really is shallow, Karen." The people of Dark Moon Island were all nurtured on the romance of Ancestor Bernard, giving them an inherently romanticized view of love. Karen desperately wanted to tell her what her ancestor Bernard's romance had actually been like. "Ophelia, do you know why love stories are always so revered in this world? It's because people naturally seek things in art and literature that they can never attain in reality. You might think my definition of love is shallow, but you'll find that I'm already happier than the vast majority of people." "You aren't older than me," Ophelia pointed out, "yet you always give off the feeling that you've already lived a whole lifetime and seen through everything." "Everyone matures at their own pace, I suppose. Perhaps I grew up a bit early. But, Ophelia..." "Alright, I know. Don't worry, I won't ruin your relationship with your fiancée. Even though there's no marriage law on the island, when I read works in the Maklai language, I can empathize with that monogamous bond. Don't carry any guilt over this either. I can even attend your wedding with a smile." "Still..." "Relax. To offer my blessings, not to cause trouble." "Ophelia..." "Hush now, be quiet. I want to lean on you a little longer." After a long time, Ophelia felt something damp and sticky against her cheek. Surprised, she raised her head, looked at Karen, and asked, "What is this?" "My wounds... tore open." ... Facts proved once more that wounds that might have healed long ago only worsened under Ophelia's devoted care. Fortunately, healing resources were abundant here. After another group of physicians arrived late in the night to treat him with magic, Karen was able to get out of bed and wash up on his own by morning. Of course, that was also thanks to the captain's expertly calibrated injuries. "A letter has already been sent to your captain explaining your condition. He said he would assign someone else to cover your shifts so you can rest and recover here. Your captain truly is a good man." "Yeah." Indeed, he probably wished Karen would stay here until he finished helping the mother of his child through postpartum recovery. "Are you still returning to the hotel today?" "The conference opens today. I want to go see it in person," Karen said. "You care about things like that?" Ophelia asked. "Don't you?" "The specific details of the conference will be available afterward." Karen shook his head. "It's different. I want to experience the atmosphere. Maybe after sitting in the audience for a day, I won't feel like going back the next." "If you find it boring, I can take you around other parts of the island." Karen didn't decline. Instead, he said, "Alright." Breakfast was lavish, especially the turtle egg. It was extraordinarily savory; scooping it out with a spoon yielded a flavor intoxicating enough to enchant the senses. Karen felt this turtle egg could even threaten the top spot plain broth noodles held in his heart for breakfast. Unfortunately, Ophelia explained that such turtle eggs were caught specifically for her by her uncle, General Tafman, during his voyages at sea. Even for the princess of Dark Moon Island, eating one every day was difficult, let alone for him. So far, aside from his cat drinking coffee brewed from beans bought with point coupons, none of the rest of them had reached the luxury of eating food purchased with point coupons. After finishing breakfast, Ophelia said, "Take my carriage back to the hotel." Immediately following that, she added, "I'll ride with you. I have business at the hotel too." Two people sharing a carriage back to the hotel in the morning was practically an open announcement of their relationship. Karen found the feeling rather strange. Generally speaking, in relationships between men and women, it was usually the man who wanted to assert their bond and claim ownership, but with Ophelia, it was entirely the reverse. Oh, wait—if you swapped their genders, it all made sense. Ophelia was clearly reading from the boyfriend script, which meant he was... "No need. I'll head back on my own." Karen walked out of the villa compound, crossed a street, and hailed a carriage. "To the Bernard Hotel." Right then, a female warrior stepped into the carriage as well. Though she wore a visored helmet, Karen knew it was Ophelia. Ophelia spread her hands and said to Karen, "This way, you don't have to worry about your reputation being tarnished, do you?" "That's a nice suit of armor. Fits you better than the one you wore when you stepped off the ship the first time we met." "Heavy plate armor is cumbersome and takes too long to put on. Also, be careful when you leave the hotel these days. That Light remnant may be dead, but any accomplices he might have haven't been caught yet. The island has already launched a secret manhunt, though." Karen nodded. "I hope they catch them soon. Damned bastards!" The carriage began moving toward the Bernard Hotel. Ophelia said, "Take the side entrance of the hotel. This gentleman here doesn't like being seen with me." "Understood, Miss. And sir, you really aren't much of a gentleman." The Bernard Hotel was divided into several residential wings. The main entrance opened to the largest residential wing, which was currently occupied mostly by the Church of Order. The side entrance led to the Church of Samsara's residential wing. Thus, though both delegations stayed in the same hotel, they rarely crossed paths. Along the road outside the side entrance of the Bernard Hotel, a crowd of people held banners and chanted slogans at the top of their lungs: "We want peace!" "Down with aggression! Down with religious war!" Seeing this, Karen couldn't help asking, "Are there believers of the Church of Samsara on Dark Moon Island?" Ophelia shook her head. "Not on this island, but one of the holy grounds of the Church of Samsara isn't far from here. Dark Moon Island is large, but there are smaller islands in the surrounding waters where many people follow the Church of Samsara. They came here on their own initiative and registered upon arrival. They won't be expelled during the conference, but once it concludes, only missionary houses of the Church of Order will be permitted on the island." "Then why aren't they protesting at the main entrance?" "Afraid of getting beaten up." The driver brought the carriage to a halt. "Miss, sir, we have arrived." Ophelia stepped down and tossed the driver a gold coin. "Blessings upon you, generous miss." Karen and Ophelia stepped out of the carriage. Karen said, "I'll head to the lodgings first to report that I'm back." "I'm going to the conference hall." "Right. See you later, then." "See you." Karen wasn't wearing his clerical robes; dressed in local islander clothes and without a mask, he walked quite casually through the Church of Samsara's residential wing and returned to his courtyard. He pushed the gate open and stepped inside. The courtyard was empty. There was still a bit of time before the conference opened, so everyone was eating breakfast in their rooms. Karen opened the door to his room and saw the captain sitting on the edge of the bed sipping coffee. Spotting Karen, the captain immediately set down his cup, stood up, walked over, and ran his hands over Karen to inspect him: "Hey, what did I tell you? Not a single scar left. They definitely used their finest healing arts and potions." "Captain, I hope that next time you won't—" Before Karen could finish, the captain cut him off. "Let me tell you a secret: there really are Light remnants on this island." "Aren't you one yourself, Captain?" "Oh, no, I mean besides me. Yesterday, while you were recovering, I took another walk around town and spotted a rallying sign used by the Light remnants. Well, theoretically speaking, that sign was actually designed by 'me.'" "Because of what happened the night before last, Dark Moon Island is secretly hunting down the Light remnants here. It makes sense that they've been stirred up." "No. If they're facing a manhunt, shouldn't they lay low and stay silent? Why would they send out signals to actively gather? Bernard may have slaughtered those thousand-plus Light priests, but during that era, plenty of islanders already believed in the Light. Perhaps the seeds of Light took root and sprouted on Dark Moon Island long ago. Even in Wien, in territory governed by our Church of Order, there are Light remnants. Their survival skills really are something else." "What are you getting at, Captain?" "I suspect they might be planning something during the conference. Are you planning to sit in on the proceedings? Then go with Memphis. Each bishop can bring two guards to sit in the audience." "And what about you, Captain?" "Once I escort the bishops into the conference hall, I'll slip out and find out what they're after." "What do you plan to do?" "Simple. I'll just go attend their meeting." With Neo's identity, infiltrating the gathering of the Light remnants would be effortless—after all, that rallying signal had been created by the "him" in his memories. "Captain..." "What is it? Something else?" "Promise me you're only going to gather intel and attend the meeting." "What else would I do?" "Don't give them advice."