Back

"Thank you, thank you, thank the great Dark Moon!" Laima's father knelt prostrate on the ground, expressing his profound gratitude to Ophelia. "You should also thank Order," Ophelia reminded him. "Yes, yes! Thank the great God of Order, thank the great God of Order! Those Church of Samsara bastards should all be put to death, killed every last one of them!" In Ophelia's telling, that man from the Church of Samsara had sought to abduct someone and extract their soul for a foul ritual, and his daughter, Laima, had been his chosen target. Fortunately, Dark Moon guards dedicated to protecting the island had caught wind of it and intervened, and a priest of Order had lent tremendous aid. For the restaurant owner, knowing this much was enough. As for the gold coins handed over, compared to the pendant Karen had received, they were hardly worth mentioning. The Gatekeeper had explicitly stated that whatever remaining value the pendant held was compensation—meaning she was giving the pendant to him so he could handle the damages on her behalf. After all, an esteemed Samsara Gatekeeper could hardly be expected to carry wads of worldly currency in her pockets; in all likelihood, she did not even make a habit of carrying point coupons. Stepping out of the restaurant, Ophelia closed her eyes, her expression solemn. "Where should we go for a late-night bite?" Karen asked. He had a fair idea of what was weighing on her mind. As a member of the Dark Moon clan sworn to protect the island's people, she had been unable to lift a finger earlier, having to rely entirely on Karen to fight. Yet in the end, she had to stand there accepting the father's gratitude. Even though it was merely an expedient cover story to wrap things up quickly, those words of thanks rang with bitter irony in Ophelia's ears. "Karen, you were right." "Hmm?" "Didn't you tell my uncle that the Dark Moon is only fit to cast the shadow of Order?" "Those were just rude words I tossed out to make myself look important in front of him. Apologize to General Tafman on my behalf." "It's the truth. We all know it's the truth. It's just that even when everyone understands it deep down, hearing it in different contexts feels completely different. "Now I finally understand why Father was so intent on throwing his lot in with the Church of Order. Even if it means becoming Order's dog, even if it means wearing a chain... how many wild dogs out there would kill for that very leash? "Strength is the only thing that matters. The Dark Moon is still too weak—so weak that in any storm that might come, we have no power to protect ourselves. My father's generation and mine still have to strive for the sake of Dark Moon Island. "I hope that a hundred or two hundred years from now, no one on this island will point at a local woman and call her a mere peasant. "And I hope that, by then, the princess standing behind the tree will have the courage to step right out, reveal her identity, and take his head." The mood grew heavier and heavier. It was like knowing you were ugly, yet when your partner left you because of it, your ugliness still cut you to the bone. "What, do you want to follow Dorons's lead and seal yourself away to sleep for a century or two, then wake up to take a look?" Ophelia turned to Karen, her lips pouting slightly. His abrupt change of subject completely knocked the wind out of her melancholic mood. "Haha, let's get something to eat. Food relieves stress." "All right." Ophelia picked a restaurant with three rows of barbecue grills outside. Standing by the entrance, Karen closed his eyes against the searing aroma of spices mingled with seafood. It was more intoxicating than Kangmo's soul storming his body earlier. They took a corner seat and ordered, and soon plates of charcoal-grilled giant oysters were brought to the table. The oysters on Dark Moon Island were several times larger than those Karen had seen in Wien. The plump, tender white meat was the very definition of succulent. Karen did not touch a single one. Instead, he quietly poured out the fruit wine he had taken to go from Laima's father into a glass and sipped it slowly. Ophelia ate continuously, as if she had truly cast off every burden and thrown herself wholly into the pleasure of good food. During a lull between finishing one platter of oysters and waiting for the next, Ophelia took a damp cloth Karen handed her, wiped the corners of her mouth, and asked, "By all rights, you should have a bigger appetite than me." She was referring to the prowess Karen had shown in the earlier battle, which was easily equal to, if not greater than, her own. Karen figured it came down to converting his inner strength with the power of Light. Yet while that allowed him to wield formidable Dark Moon power, it also deprived him of the chance to temper and enhance his physical body through proper cultivation. A gain here, a loss there, he supposed. Karen explained, "My stomach is delicate." "It's fine. Watching you watch me eat makes the food taste even better." "Oh? Watching you eat makes you look quite cute too." "There's a line in Ancestor Bernard's journals: when a woman tells a man he's a kind, decent person, or when a man tells a woman she's cute, both mean the speaker is deliberately keeping their distance. "Even though Ancestor's image has completely crumbled in my heart, there's no denying that some of his words carry genuine wisdom—the wisdom of life experience. "Not that it matters to me anyway. Since you don't want me, it doesn't matter how fat I get. It's not like I have to worry about fitting into a wedding dress." In truth, Ophelia was a warrior; no matter how much she ate, she was never going to get fat to that extent. Karen poured her a glass of fruit wine and slid it over. "I won't see you off when you leave. It would feel too dramatic." "All right," Karen acknowledged. "Once you arrive at the Church of Order and settle in, you can come find me in York City." "So you can treat me to Wien bean paste at a York City restaurant?" Ophelia smiled, then added, "Don't worry, I'll come look for you. I want to meet your fiancée and tell her how much I envy her." With that, Ophelia raised her glass toward Karen. Karen raised his as well. Just as they were about to clink their glasses together, a fresh platter of sizzling giant oysters was brought over. Ophelia instantly set her glass down and resumed eating. *** It was late when Karen returned to the hotel, and the Captain was nowhere to be found. After taking a shower, Karen lay in bed, turning over the events of the day in his mind. He had not actually been on Dark Moon Island for very long, but so much had happened every single day that it gave him the illusion of having stayed for ages. Departure was imminent. Karen closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. When he woke, the sky outside was a dusky, smoky yellow. It had to be late afternoon, perhaps already dusk. Karen shook his head helplessly. His sleep cycle had stretched far too long lately, though he knew it was necessary to restore his depleted vitality. Still, if this continued—spending an entire day asleep to make up for a single day of exertion—his routine would never return to normal. The Captain's bed was still empty, but the pillow and blanket had been shifted; he must have returned at some point to rest. Karen got up and washed. As he stepped out of the washroom, the Captain happened to push the door open. "Have you converted to the God of Slumber lately?" "Is there such a deity?" "Who knows? Maybe one day, born from the prayers of all the world's insomniacs, a God of Slumber really will come into being." "Haha, fair enough." The Captain sat on the edge of the bed and said, "We're heading back tomorrow." "Yeah." "Bishop Wolflen had another talk with me this morning. So, did something go wrong between you and Ophelia?" "Between us?" Karen shook his head. "We're good friends." "Oh, damn it. Does that mean my promotion to company commander is down the drain?" "Captain, next time you make a decision like that, could you please give me a heads-up?" "Promotions always call for a little element of surprise, don't they? In my original plan, I'd make company commander overseeing three squads, you'd get official tenure and become vice captain, and whether the captain was above or beneath you would be entirely up to you. "Isn't that great?" "Not at all." "Fine, noted. Next time I'll let you know beforehand." "You say that every time." "And every time, I'm talking about the next time." "Captain, are you really that eager to get promoted?" "Who isn't? But I want real authority, which is why I'd never take a clerical post—too dull and tedious. Oh, right, Bishop Wolflen told me to let you know: about half a month after we get back, there'll be a selection trial. The church is picking a cohort of outstanding youths. I suspect it has to do with trial quotas for the Gate of Samsara. The York City Region will send five candidates." "That many?" "Every major region is sending five. When the time comes, they'll gather everyone for a final round. Also, Bishop Wolflen reminded me to tell you that the assessment will primarily involve illusion tests targeting the soul, so you should prepare yourself over the coming days." "Understood." If it were a comprehensive evaluation within his age bracket, Karen was confident he could make the cut for the York City Region, but he had no absolute certainty when candidates from every region gathered for the final trial. After all, in a monolith as vast as the Church of Order, they might lack anything else, but they never lacked geniuses. Strictly speaking, Diss in his youth had also been one of the church's prodigies; things simply hadn't played out the way the church wished. In this world, he was not the only one blessed with fortuitous encounters, ample resources, and natural talent. To outsiders looking from a distance, geniuses seemed rare, but in the eyes of true geniuses, the field always felt crowded. Yet if the trial focused on the soul, Karen truly had nothing to worry about. Even with soul-path prodigies in the mix, he could lie back, do nothing, and still comfortably place in the top twelve. There was no question about it. If even he couldn't crack the top twelve in his age group, the other major churches might as well pack it up and go home, waiting for the Church of Order's explosion of talent to unify the entire religious world decades down the line, establishing the great God of Order as the universe's sole deity. "Still, I find it strange," the Captain remarked. "Why is Bishop Wolflen suddenly being so good to you? From his perspective, you snatched away his grandson's prospective bride." "Ophelia and I..." "Yeah, yeah, I know. But snatching her away only to reject her? Isn't that an even bigger insult?" "Captain..." "I'm just looking at the facts. Not only did he put your name on the selection list, but he even leaked the test details in advance. Honestly, I can't make sense of it. Tell me, did you put on your grandfather's mask and visit Bishop Wolflen in a dream?" "No. Unless strictly necessary, I don't wear that mask." "Ah. Then what happened last night? You slept another whole day; something definitely went down." Karen recounted the events of the previous night. After listening, the Captain pursed his lips. "So in the end, you didn't manage to kill anyone. Heh." "There was no way to do it." "I know, but you still held back too much." "It's because I haven't fully mastered my power yet." "That's not a problem. Once we're back, pick a time and I'll be your sparring partner. I know you must be dying to punch me right now; I'm giving you a legitimate reason." "Only if you're not allowed to use the power of Light, Captain." "Mm-hmm." The smile on Neo's face stiffened slightly. "In your dreams." "That's unfair." "All right, I see it now. You really do want to beat me up." *** The following morning, everyone packed their luggage. The attendants of the Bernard Hotel loaded it all onto carriages to be transported to the teleportation point ahead of time. Luggage had to be packaged and sent separately, with strict orders against containing any living creatures. Karen figured this came down to cost. Only orthodox churches could likely afford such extravagant arrangements on top of teleportation arrays. There was no friction as the two churches withdrew. In truth, ever since the negotiations concluded, hostility between the two sides had cooled significantly. Many people had even exchanged souvenirs before parting ways. In some extreme cases, untimely sparks had even flown. Take Richard, for instance. He had exchanged keepsakes with a priestess from the Church of Samsara. She had given him a silver bracelet—not a sacred relic, but hand-forged and remarkably stylish. In return, Richard had given her a gemstone, a decent defensive magical artifact gifted to him by his grandfather, Delon. From Karen's perspective, that was a terribly lopsided trade where Richard took a staggering loss. Yet Richard thoroughly relished the electric thrill of it. War had just broken out between the two churches, and bad blood ran deep. Against such a backdrop, any shared glance between youths from opposing camps became taboo. And taboos always brought an extraordinary rush, intoxicating those caught in it, accentuating the grandeur of love. When it came down to it, romance in all its forms was ultimately about pleasing oneself, chasing that rush of pleasure and comfort. "How did you move so fast?" Karen asked. "Because you've been sleeping these past few days, and Memphis was too shy to go with me to the Mermaid Theater no matter how hard I begged. So I had to wander around on my own, and then I saw her." "What's her name?" "Beliya." "Did you get a way to contact her?" "We can write letters. Sending them through teleportation arrays is very fast." "That's expensive." "Don't worry, it's fine. I already gave her an envelope stuffed with point coupons—plenty to cover the postage." "Right. How thoughtful of you, and how generous." "Naturally. When courting someone, you can't be stingy like my father." Karen glanced at Memphis standing beside them and asked, "How was he stingy?" "Hah, at first my mother thought he was reliable and grounded. Only later did she realize he listened to his family on everything—my grandmother's precious little darling." "You seem to be drifting off-topic." "Oh, am I? Well, my mother always complained that marrying into our Guman family got her nothing. Bah, it's pathetic. I come from a good background, don't I? Having finally taken a fancy to someone, I could hardly afford to be cheap." "Do you have enough point coupons?" Karen asked. "Oh, I borrowed some from Memphis. After all, I bought her quite a few gifts. I basically bought a round of every local specialty on Dark Moon Island." "You really spared no expense." "Nothing to spare or not spare. That girl looks like an ordinary Samsara priestess, but I know for a fact she comes from one of their prominent clans. There are several major clans in the Church of Samsara comparable to the Simonsens; my instincts and observations don't lie. "The more I give, the more she'll see me as honest and sincere, the more successful she'll feel at playing ordinary, the more interesting she'll find me, and the more interested she'll become in me." "So that was the angle?" "Of course. What else?" "You pursued her because you figured out her background?" "Not at all! At first sight I thought she was gorgeous. And then, once I saw through her identity, she instantly looked even more gorgeous." "Well, let's hope your father approves." "My father's a block of wood. What does his approval matter? As long as my grandmother agrees, it's fine." "Fair enough. Next time war breaks out, the two of you standing face-to-face and plunging blades into each other's chests will make quite the poetic scene." "Hey, we could paint a different picture—like having my grandfather petition the higher-ups to arrange a political marriage for me. I'm more than willing to sacrifice myself for the great God of Order." Chatting along the way, the two followed the carriages up to the mountain summit. Throughout the trek, Mr. Memphis's face... grew dark, then darker still. The teleportation gate opened, and the crowd prepared to step through in groups. Before ascending the steps, Karen looked back and saw a slender, graceful figure standing in the distance. She had claimed she wouldn't come, yet in the end, she had succumbed to sentiment. Casting one final glance at Dark Moon Island's sea, its scenery, and its people, Karen turned and stepped into the teleportation gate. *Hum!* After two successive teleportations, Karen and the others emerged into the basement of the York City Church Affairs Building. Stepping out onto the street, they watched the stream of passing motorcars and the towering buildings rising before them. It felt as though a lifetime had passed. Karen spread his arms, closed his eyes, and drew a deep breath. "We're back." Richard shouted, "Haha, I'm back!" Memphis murmured, "Yes... finally back." —End of Volume—