Treasure!

In the morning, everyone lined up in the courtyard under the Captain's lead. Chief Bishop Worflen took a carriage together with Leon and Laure, while the rest escorted the convoy to the entrance of the conference hall. Today, Karen did not follow them inside; Richard and Marlo went in instead. Richard had originally wanted to invite Karen to sit inside with him, having learned from Memphis the night before that the conditions in the meeting room were quite nice. Even the observation gallery had refreshments, drinks, and light meals to choose from. Karen had declined, however. Richard then asked Memphis, but Memphis refused as well. In the end, the Captain singled out Marlo to accompany him. None of the others wanted to spend an entire day cooped up in the conference hall; there was plenty of entertainment within the hotel, and even more outside it. "All right, dismissed!" After announcing their dismissal, the Captain strolled off alone. Karen watched his receding figure, knowing full well that the Captain was heading off to stir up trouble. Karen did not leave the hotel. So much had happened over the past few days that he simply returned to his quarters in the courtyard. Just then, Fanny and Peige pushed the door open and walked in. Both women had changed into casual clothes, evidently planning to go out shopping. "Don't worry, I know you don't want to go," Peige said. "We just came to say hello." "Did yesterday's matter get resolved?" Fanny asked. Karen nodded. "That's good, then. We're heading out. See you tonight." "Yeah, see you tonight." Karen picked up a water cup. Before pouring himself a drink, he mimicked the Captain's action from the previous night and checked the bottom of the cup. At that moment, a figure appeared by the window. It was Ophelia. "Does coming to see you so early make me seem too impatient?" Girls always wished they could appear more reserved. Provided, of course, that the boy knew how to take the initiative. "Not at all." Karen shook his head. Ophelia pushed open the room door, stepped inside, smoothly drew the curtains shut, and slipped off her aristocratic Dark Moon robe. Underneath was a white lining with a smooth, lustrous texture. As a warrior who practiced martial skills daily, her appetite was far larger than that of an ordinary person. Yet she carried no excess fat, nor was she gaunt. Thanks to her youth, she possessed a firm, radiant fullness. All of this Karen could see from her exposed arms. "Which bed is yours?" Karen pointed. Ophelia climbed onto Karen's bed, pulled back the quilt, covered herself, and closed her eyes. What should one do when a beautiful girl crawls into your bed right before your eyes? Karen merely walked quietly to the foot of the bed, pulled the quilt smooth, and tucked it over her feet. A gentle fragrance lingered about her; she had likely taken a bath that morning before coming over. Karen poured a cup of warm water for Ophelia without adding ice and set it on the nightstand. Then, he sat down by the Captain's bed, taking out a book he had brought in his luggage: *Perseverance in Bewilderment*. Ophelia slept while Karen read. Karen was not putting on an act. He knew the girl had probably stayed up all night, and on top of that, she had been poisoned. Though the poison was cleared, deep fatigue and weakness were unavoidable. Last night's events had dealt her a massive, earth-shattering shock. She could accept it without breaking down, but she needed time to slowly process it. Family was supposed to be a warm harbor, yet the previous night, the very last shred of warmth had been torn away. What lingered most vividly in the mind was the image of the Third Prince clutching the heads of his two older brothers. Compared to them, the Allen family had actually done much better. Of course, the main reason was likely that the Allens had fallen on hard times; fighting over power and wealth simply held little meaning anymore. The eldest son had married a purple-haired woman, the second son was crippled, and the third was obsessed with art. Even if Old Anderson had wanted to foster a ruthless, dog-eat-dog ambition within the household, reality wouldn't have allowed it. Karen leafed through the book in his hands. It told the story of a man whose wife became a vegetable following an accident, detailing his daily routine: going to work, returning home, talking with her, giving her massages, and wiping her clean. He experienced anguish, resentment, and fleeting thoughts of giving up, hesitating again and again, but in the end, he chose to shoulder all the burdens. Karen flipped to the end, only to discover that the very last page had been torn out. The title of the final chapter was: "She Woke Up?" Since it was enclosed in quotation marks, it meant the wife had ultimately not awakened. Well then, Karen realized this book hadn't been packed into his suitcase by Alfred. The ever-considerate and cautious Alfred would never make such a mistake. It had to be a certain cat that had sneakily placed this book in his luggage. And to prevent him from losing heart upon seeing the final outcome, it had gone out of its way to tear out the last page. *Heh.* A faint smile touched the corner of Karen's mouth. He usually didn't think much of it at home, but after leaving—especially when going to sleep each night and waking up each morning—not having that cat around felt genuinely unfamiliar. Though it threw young-lady tantrums from time to time, the innocence and directness that had remained unchanged after a hundred years truly had a way of rubbing off on those around it. After all, an ordinary person could undergo a complete change of temperament after just a few years in prison. *** Ophelia slept until the afternoon. When she awoke, she turned her head, opened her eyes, and saw Karen sitting on the adjacent bed, immersed in his book. Opening her eyes and seeing him right away felt wonderfully reassuring. Karen set the book aside, looked at Ophelia, and asked, "Hungry?" "Hungry." "It's gotten a bit cold, but it should still be edible." Karen produced two meal trays and handed one to Ophelia. "I'll wash up first." "All right. I'll go heat the food up, then." By the time Karen returned with the warmed meal, Ophelia had finished freshening up. The two of them sat by their respective beds to eat. "I'm sorry for keeping you from going out today," Ophelia said. "It's fine. I didn't plan on going out today anyway. Life has been far too hectic lately; I wanted some peace and quiet." "Then I disturbed your peace." "No. I doubt any man seeking peace and quiet would turn down having a quiet beauty resting beside him while he enjoys it." "Shouldn't that feel uncomfortable?" After asking that, Ophelia lowered her head and pretended to continue eating naturally, though a faint blush crept across her cheeks. At times, suggestive banter was indeed an effective way to draw two people closer and test each other's boundaries, but Karen had always taken care never to make such jokes with Ophelia. By contrast, he would occasionally banter with Peige and Fanny. Karen smiled gently. "It was fine. You were too exhausted." "I'm well-rested now." "Treasure that hard-won energy. When things get busy, sleep becomes a strategic reserve." "I feel like... you treat them differently from how you treat me." "Oh? Is that so?" "Last night, I saw them soaking in the hot spring naked with you." "We are colleagues. No, comrades. If I get injured one day, no matter what part of my body, they'll treat me immediately, and I would do the same for them. In fact, our very first mission together was to host you. We stayed in the suite across from yours back then. You remember, don't you?" "I remember. I felt you were quite fortunate back then, having two beautiful women sleeping with you." "Is that what you were thinking at the time?" "Yes. For the first few days after going back, whenever I thought of you sleeping in the same bed with them at night, I'd start to feel uncomfortable." "That was just work." "You don't need to explain to me. I'm not your fiancée." "All right, my apologies." "Right, who arranged that blind date for you? Who holds the say in your family?" "My grandfather." "Where is your grandfather now?" "His health ran into some trouble. It's not convenient for him to receive guests right now." "I'm sorry." "It's fine. His health will recover in the near future, I firmly believe it." "Yes, he will certainly recover." Ophelia finished her food in short order. Seeing this, Karen brought three food buckets over from by the door and used a large ladle to serve Ophelia more dishes and staple food. "Do I eat a bit too much?" "A good appetite is a blessing." "Really?" "Yes. Whether a household lives well or not depends entirely on whether the girls in the family eat well and stay plump." "Then does your household live well?" "Not well. Very tight. The monthly coffee expense alone is quite a burden." "The island provided you with point coupons, didn't it?" "Those point coupons aren't meant for personal luxury." "If you're short on point coupons, you can tell me. Originally, there were four siblings. With two gone last night, the most direct result is that the monthly allowance for my third brother and me will instantly double starting next month." "There's a benefit like that?" "The direct lineage's clan allowance is fixed. What goes unclaimed isn't returned, and normally, there aren't many things I need to spend on around the island." "No need. Spending the point coupons you earn yourself is far more rewarding." "Is this male pride? I know some men have an instinctive aversion to spending a woman's money. Are you like that too?" "No, not at all. I respect equality between men and women. But I still believe that within a family, a man earning money to support the household is an unavoidable duty and responsibility." Ophelia finally finished eating, leaving just a little in the buckets. Karen placed the plates and utensils back into the buckets and carried them out into the courtyard. Someone would come by in the evening to collect them, so there was no need to wash the dishes himself. "Today's meeting should be ending soon," Ophelia remarked. "Yes, it should." "Now that I'm full, I'd like to take a walk. Karen, come with me." "All right." Just as Karen and Ophelia stepped out of the courtyard, they saw a carriage approaching ahead. The carriage door was open, and seated inside were Bishop Worflen, Leon, and Laure. Today's meeting had concluded much earlier than yesterday's, meaning that when many of the bishops emerged, their honor guards had not yet finished assembling. Karen stood to the side and bowed his head in greeting. Ophelia greeted Bishop Worflen. "Good day, Bishop." "Good day, Your Highness." After exchanging greetings, Ophelia gently tugged at Karen's arm. Helpless, Karen could only continue walking outside with her. The carriage rolled into the courtyard. Before stepping down, Bishop Worflen's gaze turned somewhat somber. Beside him, Leon and Laure sat upright, well aware that the old man was displeased. "Leon." "Grandfather." "Do you feel that the two of us, grandfather and grandson, look like a joke?" "Grandfather, I am, but you are not." "Mm." Worflen nodded. "You've grown." "Grandfather, in truth, my feelings toward Her Highness aren't..." Leon was preparing to speak up for Karen; he had no interest in using his grandfather's authority to suppress him. "It is best that you have no feelings for Her Highness. Last night, the director of the York City Region's Mission Department replied to me. An important figure intervened in arranging the composition of this negotiation delegation." "An important figure?" Laure's expression shifted as well. Old Man Worflen could converse casually even when standing face-to-face with a Cardinal; though he carried himself with some humility, even Cardinals would give him face. Thus, an "important figure" in the old man's mouth... "I do not know which important figure it was, nor do I intend to pursue it further. Just like the negotiations regarding the Church of Pamires back then, and the subsequent developments concerning the Church of Samsara... Some things, I simply do not have the standing to know." "Grandfather..." "In short, let this matter rest." "Yes, Grandfather." Leon breathed a long sigh of relief. He had originally worried that his grandfather would harbor a grudge against Karen for tarnishing the Deer family's pride, but unexpectedly, his grandfather was consoling him instead. "How is your relationship with Karen?" "Not bad. We consider each other friends." "That's good. Arrange a meal for tomorrow, then. Invite Karen and Neo; we'll dine out." "Grandfather, when?" "In the afternoon. Who actually goes just to eat? Heh, the negotiations will basically conclude tomorrow morning anyway. The Church of Samsara has displayed a very accommodating attitude. By the way, you and Laure must work hard lately. The Gate of Samsara opens once every ten years, and the next opening is very soon—next month. We have twelve slots. When the shortlist is submitted, I will submit both your names." "Thank you, Grandfather." "Thank you, Bishop." "Don't be in such a hurry to thank me. You still have to pass an assessment. The Gate of Samsara is exceptionally perilous; many young talents die inside every time. At its most brutal, half of them fail to emerge. Of course, those who do come out reap tremendous rewards—such as obtaining a companion soul and forging a Samsara contract. If it were purely through connections, I wouldn't dare shove you two in. Pushing you in to die serves no purpose. Put your heart into the assessment. Oh, and lately, you can study spellbooks concerning souls and mental arts." "Yes, Grandfather." "Yes, Bishop." "Grandfather, then what about Karen...?" "He is merely a God's Servant, isn't he?" Worflen asked. "That is what's written on his dossier: a God's Servant under the Pavaro Inquisitorial Office." Laure spoke up, "Her Highness Ophelia has taken a liking to a God's Servant from our church. Since when did a God's Servant in our church become so valuable?" "Heh, well, even if he applies, his name won't appear on my submission list. If there truly is some important figure backing him, let that important figure sign him up instead." Leon asked with some concern, "Grandfather, is that truly appropriate?" Worflen chuckled and replied, "It's fine. Even if it truly is a figure of that caliber, with my current status and standing, I barely retain the right to throw a small temper tantrum and act petty." *** The Palace of Longing. Corpses were being dragged away, and the blood on the ground was being cleared. In the distance, Tafman watched the scene ahead. The Light remnants had launched a surprise raid on the Palace of Longing, but against an enemy prepared well in advance, this so-called raid had turned into a suicide charge. Under the encirclement of the Dark Moon warriors, nearly all of the Light remnants participating in the attack had perished. Yet Tafman felt puzzled. The person who had sat beside him that day and revealed the secret of the "Contract Conch" to everyone had not shown up. Had he gotten cold feet at the last moment? Or were these Light remnants, incited into action, mere smoke screens? "General." Sebas, the organizer of the Light remnants' gathering, bowed to Tafman. "Following this purge, the Light remnants on the island have suffered devastating losses. They won't be able to form any meaningful force for at least ten years." "Mm." Tafman nodded. "Continue organizing and scouting. Dark Moon will not forget your contributions." "Yes, My Lord." The short old man, Sebas, bowed and withdrew. Just then, a warrior approached. "General, once the cleanup is finished, should the guard unit withdraw from here?" "No. Continue to hold this position, and dispatch an additional squad of guards to heighten defensive vigilance." "Yes, General." Tafman turned and walked outward. He did not take the main gate, instead following a narrow path behind the Palace of Longing. He had come along with the Light remnants in plain clothes today, and as he walked, he put on a mask to conceal the displeased expression on his face. Suddenly, a figure wearing a serpent-head mask appeared along the trail. "Oh dear, looks like it failed," the Captain remarked with a sigh. "I figured there was a traitor at that gathering." Just as Tafman was about to speak, the man opposite him changed his tone: "You're as sharp as I am, so you must have guessed there was a traitor at that gathering too, right?" "Yes." With that, Tafman reached up to take off his mask. He didn't believe the man before him could be so simple... After all, Tafman was convinced this was Philias, who had snuck into his villa that day and activated the teleportation array to Snake Island. "Don't take off your mask. It's best if both our identities remain secret. It's better for both of us that way." "I believe we should be more open with each other." "I don't like openness. I'm used to living behind a mask. If you keep your mask on now, I'll take you to do something interesting later." "Oh? What is it?" Tafman asked, puzzled, though he halted his motion of removing the mask. "I'll let you hear the roar of Dorons tonight. Are you looking forward to it?" "Naturally, I am." "Good, then trust me. But before that... we need to deepen our mutual trust. Aren't you worried that I might be the traitor?" "Not worried." *Because the traitor was me.* "Well, I'm worried that you might be the traitor." Beneath his mask, Tafman smiled. Walking out of the Palace of Longing completely unharmed was practically an explicit declaration that he was the traitor. The Captain said, "Come, let's verify." The Captain raised his hand, and within his palm flared a pure flame of Light. "Your turn." "Very well." Tafman raised his hand, and pure flames of Light ignited in his palm as well. "It seems we both belong to the Light," the Captain said. "Indeed." The Captain added, "Have you ever wavered, then?" "I have never wavered." *Because my loyalty belongs to Dark Moon.* "I'm different, then. I waver constantly—every single day. I've wavered back and forth so much it's practically a thrill." "Then you..." "It's fine. The Light forgives all." "That goes without saying. The Light is most benevolent and merciful." "Let me tell you another secret. Do you know why Philias put Dorons into deep slumber back then?" "Because he wanted to demonstrate to Bernard and his followers his resolve to take root and flourish on Dark Moon Island." "That was certainly one factor. But there was another: Dorons's belly holds the accumulated treasures of the Philias clan. That is an inheritance from the Philias family, the legacy of the royal line of the Church of Light. That is the treasure Philias prepared for the revival of the Church of Light—not useless, space-wasting junk like gold and silver jewels. Inside, there might even be... a divine artifact of Light!" "Truly?" "Do you believe it?" "Not particularly." "Then do you want to verify it?" "I do."