A Rebellious Descendant

Even though wearing Bernard's face repulsed him, Karen had no better alternative for the moment. Break through the window and flee? Karen's physical condition was far from ideal. Tormenting Bernard and tying up loose ends had drained a vast amount of his energy. Although successfully integrating the Eyes of the Dark Moon had doubled his reservoir's capacity, he urgently needed ample rest to recuperate. Furthermore, the Dorons incident had mobilized forces across Dark Moon Island. Though everyone had returned to their posts, they were fully warmed up and primed for action. If he made a run for it now and Tafman gave chase with his subordinates, it would easily draw in other factions. When the captain had created chaos at the Palace of Longing and used the distraction to awaken Dorons, he had caught all parties completely off guard. A trick like that could work once, but never twice. Besides, if an aversion to Bernard kept him from donning the mask and landed him in greater danger, wouldn't Bernard die laughing a second time? He couldn't cut off his nose to spite his face. *Right.* *Even after your death, I'll wear your face and use your identity. Consider it another form of punishment.* *Yes, exactly.* When necessary, one could always invent the perfect justification to make peace with oneself. Karen touched the silver ring and donned Bernard's mask. He wasn't in the least worried about playing the role of Bernard convincingly. First, he had extensive experience disguising himself behind masks. Second, although this mask was not fashioned from Bernard's actual skin, its effect surpassed genuine flesh. It had imprinted Bernard's precise features, down to the finest detail from top to bottom. Third, and most importantly, the man outside the door had never met Bernard in person, even if he was his descendant. In terms of familiarity, Karen was undeniably more acquainted with the ancestor than Tafman was. Outside the door, ever since "Philias" had broken in and used the teleportation circle, this home—normally a place to let one's guard down and unwind—no longer offered Tafman any sense of security. Instead, every return made him increasingly vigilant. Especially this master bedroom. He hadn't deliberately arranged traps or posted guards here. When Dorons had rampaged toward the town, even the Palace of Longing, which held the ancestral remains, had lacked sufficient guards, let alone this place. Yet Tafman had paid meticulous attention to this door. He could even remember the exact layer of dust nestled in the seam. Before opening it, he hadn't known anyone was inside. He had merely suspected that someone had slipped in during the island's crisis and likely already departed. Yet when the door swung open and he saw the figure standing within, his mind went blank for an instant. Coming home to find a burglar fell within reasonable comprehension. But coming home to find an ancestor who had been dead for over a century standing before you defied human reason. Tafman's instinctive reaction was that this man had to be an impostor! Yet the aura radiating from the ancestor was undeniably real. Most striking of all were the Eyes of the Dark Moon gazing upon him. Under that stare, Tafman felt a profound, bloodline-deep suppression stirring from his core, urging him to kneel in submission. Had the power of Light within his body not bolstered him, he might have already dropped to one knee. How could this possibly be fake? Furthermore, the ancestor's remains had just vanished—another piece of corroborating evidence. "Is it quiet outside?" "It is quiet..." Tafman replied, his thoughts a tangled mess. "Just as I thought. Philias and the others could never bring themselves to do it. They were always a bunch of softhearted fools." "Yes..." "Yet he disturbed me. He interrupted my slumber." "You..." "Do not be afraid. I never truly died. I entered a deep slumber through certain means because I am waiting for the day three years from now. If I succeed, Dark Moon Island and our Dark Moon clan will usher in a new era of glory." "I..." Even now, though he maintained a respectful tone, Tafman had yet to address the figure as "Ancestor." Karen knew that this commander of the Dark Moon Island offshore fleet was no simple fool to trick. Not that it mattered. Karen only needed to keep up the charade long enough to find an opening to slip away. Once he took off the mask, changed back into his clerical robes, and ducked into the Bernard Hotel, he would have nothing to worry about. "Has our Dark Moon Island become a dog to the Church of Order now?" "Y-Yes." "Heh, what a load of ********!" Upon receiving confirmation, Karen unleashed a string of colorful curses. These profanities were rich with local Dark Moon Island flavor and perfectly aligned with Bernard's personal tastes. While torturing Bernard earlier, the man had hurled no shortage of vile insults at Karen, and Karen had simply recycled a few. Tafman was momentarily taken aback. This "ancestor's" vulgarities never appeared in public records; they existed only in the true ancestral journals accessible solely to successive clan chiefs and trusted high-ranking elders. Every single detail was entirely authentic, yet doubts lingered in Tafman's heart. He had not yet realized that the last time he felt this way was... well, the last time. It was just like when he had faced the injured Karen: every detail had been flawless, yet something had felt unsettlingly off. However, while Tafman had dared to probe Karen directly and even utter cryptic warnings, he dared not make such an attempt before the man standing in front of him. Even though the man was still Karen. "Never mind. Not bad, actually. It seems your recent generations have done well. Dark Moon Island has developed enough to even qualify as a dog to Order." Tafman had no idea how to respond, though he had voiced the exact same words to his brother before. "Restore the Palace of Longing to its original state. Let outsiders believe I still lie within." "Yes." "I must find another place to resume my slumber. In three years, I will awaken once more, and when that time comes, I will summon you to accompany me to that place." "Yes." "Have your men fetch an ordinary carriage outside. I am leaving, and I do not want anyone to know where I go." "Yes. Please wait in the study; I will have the servants prepare it." "Very well." Karen entered the study and settled behind the desk. A short while later, Tafman entered, head slightly bowed, standing between the door and the floor-to-ceiling window. Karen let out a soft sigh. "If my awakening window weren't so limited, I would have liked to take a proper stroll around the island." "Aside from the areas damaged by Dorons, the island is far more beautiful now than it was back then." "A pity. I will have a good look upon my next awakening." "I can summon the current clan chief and the next heir to arrive with all haste. Would you care to grant them an audience?" "My resurrection should be known only to you. In truth, if your strength had not been decent, you would have been a corpse the moment you laid eyes on me." "Yes, I understand what you mean. Rest assured, not a third soul will know of your revival." Karen wouldn't mind meeting Clan Chief Viner, but Ophelia was a different story... Last time, when he had been masked, Ophelia had recognized him in an instant. Although this mask was utterly flawless, Karen had zero confidence that he could fool her eyes. If she saw through him, danger aside, the sheer embarrassment alone would be mortifying. Moments later, a knock came from the door. Tafman walked over and ordered, "Clear the premises completely." "Yes, General." After another brief wait, Tafman opened the door and gestured politely toward Karen. "Please." Karen rose, walked out of the study, and descended the stairs. Every guard in the villa had vanished. Only a single carriage remained in the courtyard, its driver seated with a blindfold over his eyes. Karen climbed into the carriage. Shortly after, the carriage started moving and rattled out of the estate. Peering through the seam of the carriage window, Karen noticed they were heading toward the southern district of town. Calculating the time, if Tafman hadn't dispatched men or tailed the carriage himself, this would already be a safe spot to disembark. Even if Tafman were following, it remained an ideal location. The town was densely built and populated, and with the evacuated citizens just beginning to return, the streets were chaotic—offering the perfect cover for an escape. Once they cleared the town and reached open ground, slipping away would be far harder. Taking a deep breath, Karen pushed open the carriage door and leaped out, darting swiftly into the narrow alleyways between the buildings as he began weaving through the maze. From Neo, Karen had learned far more than just seeking amusement. In truth, the captain had plenty of practical tradecraft worth emulating. After completing a circuit of evasive maneuvers, Karen doubled back to check whether he was being pursued. Sure enough, he spotted a man wearing a serpent-head mask standing in the distance, tailing him. Karen had seen the captain wear a similar mask, but this person was clearly not Neo. One didn't even need to guess his identity. He hadn't bothered to change his clothes, simply slapping a mask over his face, and one of his sleeves hung completely empty. Tafman's disguise was laughably halfhearted. Karen turned and resumed running, with Tafman pursuing closely behind. The two played a cat-and-mouse game through the urban district for a while. Seeing that he couldn't shake him, Karen had no choice but to halt. Many of his concealment techniques were inconvenient to use right now, and relying solely on the Dark Moon Blade to bolster his speed wasn't enough to outrun this Dark Moon Island naval general. After all, this was a man capable of fighting the captain to a standstill. The masked Tafman appeared before Karen. "Is there something else?" Karen asked. "Bernard." He had addressed him directly by name. A faint smile curled Karen's lips as he looked at this rebellious descendant of "his." "What did you call me?" "Bernard. Are you not?" "Heh, I suppose I am." "I believe many things in this world tend to be complicated. Therefore, in most cases, I prefer to choose a stance first before deciding on a course of action." "Very sensible." "So, from the perspective of a direct heir to the Dark Moon clan, I believed my brother was better suited to govern Dark Moon Island, so I yielded the position of clan chief to him. "From the perspective of a guardian of Dark Moon Island, if the Light remnants were to gather in large numbers, they would pollute our island and attract the attention of the Orthodox Churches. Thus, I regularly purged their factions. My hands are stained with plenty of Light blood. "However..." Tafman opened his left palm, and a pale white flame flared to life, dancing atop his skin. "When Dorons charged toward the town, I spared no expense to stop it. Unfortunately, I failed. "Dorons possessed the power to turn more than half of Dark Moon Island into corrupted ground, yet it chose to stand down. And Philias personally drew the evil spirit corruption out of my body." "And so? Are you seeking revenge on Philias's behalf?" "I have no standing to avenge him. You were the clan chief at the time. I can understand your choice." "Then what do you mean by this?" "I simply believe that you ought to go to a certain place and offer an apology before their remains." "You want me to apologize to them? Have you lost your mind!" "I have not lost my mind. This has always been how I think. Over a century ago, the feud between you and Philias was born. You plotted against them and slaughtered them. A hundred years later, they returned for vengeance, yet chose to stay their hand. "We owe them. Therefore, Mr. Bernard, please come with me to observe a moment of silent tribute for them." "How could I have a descendant like you? Has an evil spirit corrupted your brain, or did Philias pollute your mind!" "Yes, I believe that must be it. I have been thoroughly corrupted by the Light. I can no longer convince myself that Light is merely a tool, like the large-caliber magic crystal cannons on my flagship—a mere instrument to destroy enemy vessels. "It seems I was naive after all. "I will not attack you. I only need you to accompany me to that place for a moment of silence. Afterward, you may leave, and no one will disturb you again." "I will not apologize to them!" "It is me," Tafman paused, "who needs you to apologize." "And if I refuse?" "Then I will attack you. I am injured and have not fully recovered. I do not know how much of your power has awakened, but you should be capable of striking me down. Even so, I will attack. "I need you to do this." "Did you plan this all along?" "No. Before you boarded the carriage, I hadn't made up my mind. But once the carriage started moving, I realized." "You realized you should chase me down?" "No. I realized that the past is already behind us. What matters is seizing the present and the future. Just like Mr. Philias and the others, who abandoned revenge and chose a new voyage. "I will remain on the island for another three years to help my brother stabilize the situation, consolidate his authority as clan chief, and help my niece Ophelia secure her position as heir. "At the same time, I will help train a new commander for the offshore fleet. "Three years should be enough to finish all of this." "And after three years?" "I will don white clerical robes and embark on a journey of my own." "Incredible. With so much Light blood on your hands, you actually have the nerve to utter such words?" "Which is harder—letting go of guilt, or letting go of hatred? Mr. Philias let go of his hatred. Why shouldn't I let go of my guilt?" "It seems you truly have been corrupted." "Yes, I have." Karen was utterly speechless. Tafman was actually pulling this stunt on him. "Your time is limited. Please decide quickly." "I agree." "Then please return to the villa with me." Tafman hailed another carriage. Karen climbed inside, and Tafman joined him. The carriage carried them back to the estate. However, a royal carriage was already waiting outside the gates. "It's Ophelia. She is the next clan chief," Tafman said. Karen said nothing. "I will tell her to leave." Tafman stepped out of the carriage. Before long, Ophelia's convoy departed, and Karen's carriage rolled into the courtyard. Once the driver left, only Tafman and Karen remained in the villa. The two walked up the stairs once more. As they reached the master bedroom door, Karen asked, "If you had made up your mind earlier, I could have saved a lot of time." "Everything requires a cognitive process that cannot be skipped. Besides, even if I had made up my mind, I still had to fetch a mask." "You can take it off now." "No. I cannot face you without it." "I came back from Snake Island earlier," Karen remarked. "Is it possible that I have already observed a moment of silence for them?" "Impossible. Because you are too selfish." Karen had to admit Tafman was entirely correct. Tafman added, "Did you go there to chase someone? The parasite hosting Mr. Philias? That is the only explanation I can think of." "Yes, exactly. But I failed to catch him," Karen went along with the narrative. "I wanted him dead, but he had good luck. I arrived a step too late." "Mr. Philias has already departed. I can sense it." "Still, if not for that parasite, my slumber would not have been interrupted. Therefore, he deserves to die." Tafman nodded and entered the master bedroom, adjusting the chandelier once more to activate the formation. At that moment, he asked, "In your view, where should the future of Dark Moon Island lie? What I mean is, should we actively engage with the outside world, or continue maintaining a low profile?" How was Karen supposed to answer that? Clearly, Tafman was asking on his brother's behalf about the future direction of Dark Moon Island. And indeed, there was no better person to consult than "Bernard." Karen replied, "A useless dog is only slaughtered for its meat." Since they were already the Church of Order's dogs, Karen didn't believe Dark Moon Island had any chance of quietly developing in seclusion to reap the benefits. The Church of Order was hardly known for boundless charity and mercy. "Yes, I understand. The clan chief wishes to send Ophelia to Wien as the next heir to undergo exchange and training within the Church of Order. In accordance with your guidance, I will agree." Karen was at a loss for words. This was essentially offering a political hostage to ensure the next generation's loyalty. Ophelia's journey to Wien had nothing to do with exile; the moment she went, she was guaranteed to become the next clan chief. If anyone on Dark Moon Island dared put forward a rival candidate, the Church of Order would ruthlessly suppress all opposition on her behalf. Still... was it too late to take his words back? The formation activated, enveloping Karen and Tafman in white light before depositing them onto Snake Island. Tafman froze the moment his eyes landed on the newly carved words upon the stone monument: *Hey, we're setting sail once more!* Karen also froze, suddenly realizing he had left behind a fatal oversight: he had lit cigarettes before that stone monument! Cigarettes were regional goods. The ones he carried in his pockets were purchased in York City. Although the cigarettes had long burned down, the butts were still lying right there, not yet decomposed. If someone truly investigated, they could easily identify the brand and trace the region where it was distributed. Only members of two churches were currently on the island. The Church of Samsara had minimal influence in Wien to begin with and had been wiped out during the outbreak of war. If a brand from the York City region turned up here, one could practically guarantee that the parasite was among the dozen members of the York City Region delegation! If Dark Moon Island investigated on its own... no, that would still be the better outcome. If they reported it to the Church of Order and Order investigated, the result would be... He and the captain would have to play rock-paper-scissors to decide who turned themselves in. Tafman spread both hands. A burst of Light fire ignited, thoroughly reducing the surrounding weeds and the cigarette butts to fine ash. Then, he looked at Karen, gestured politely, and said, "Please observe a moment of silence." Karen spoke up, "You intentionally destroyed those cigarette butts." This wasn't Karen acting difficult or being ungrateful; he had to stay in character as Bernard. Tafman pointed toward the monument. "He already understands the spirit of Mr. Philias and the others. He will not seek vengeance on Dark Moon Island. This matter should end here; there is no need for further pursuit." "If not for my need to resume my slumber, the first thing I would do is strip you of your post and throw you into prison." "Undoubtedly. When you awaken next time, I will be a remnant of Light. You may still do so then." "Hmph." Karen bowed his head in silent tribute before the pit of remains. Afterward, Tafman led Karen into the cave. Upon entering, Tafman's attention was drawn to a scorched depression on the ground, yet he said nothing. Of course, he could never have guessed what had been incinerated there. Karen glanced at the stone sarcophagus containing Jennifer's remains and mused inwardly: *Hey, didn't expect that, did you, Miss Jennifer? I'm back to visit you again so soon.* *** The silent tribute ended. Tafman stood alone by the shore, signaling that "Bernard" could teleport back first and that he would wait a while longer. Karen dearly wanted to tell him that he was welcome to gaze at the sea a bit more, since his true ancestor had probably not yet fully dissipated into the currents. Shortly after, Karen used the teleportation formation to return to the third-floor master bedroom of the villa. Wasting no time, he immediately rushed downstairs, vaulted over the back wall of the courtyard, stripped off the mask, and swiftly changed his clothes. Back at the hotel, he pushed open the courtyard gate. Mr. Aisen and Richard were seated by the pond. Seeing Karen finally return, Mr. Aisen lowered his head and picked up breadcrumbs to feed the fish, while Richard walked over and whispered: "The captain covered for you. No one noticed you were gone." "Good." Karen nodded and walked into his room. He found the captain lying on the bed asleep; even when Karen entered, Neo didn't open his eyes. Tafman had undergone such a drastic transformation; had the captain changed as well? Karen sat down by the bedside, fixing his gaze on the captain's face. At that moment, the captain called out: "Praise the Light." Karen was stunned for a moment. The captain opened his eyes, turned his head toward Karen, and grinned. "Frightened you, did I?" Karen shook his head. "I awakened the final fragment of memory concerning Philias. It's the most secretive family creed handed down to the Philias family from the Mad Pope. Do you want to hear it?" Karen nodded. The captain sat up in bed, staring intently at Karen, enunciating each word with gravity: "Can the God of Light truly represent the Light?" Karen licked his lips. The captain asked curiously, "I wonder, did your grandfather leave behind any similar family creed? In a way, I feel your grandfather resembles the Mad Pope quite a bit. I don't mean any disrespect—quite the opposite, I revere them deeply." "He did." "Let's hear it." "Who—" Karen cleared his throat and said: "Can the God of Order truly represent Order?"