The Return of Light

"Still, the Church of Light really has only itself to blame for ending up so pathetic. Can't they even bother to change their secret signals?" "It's the same type of code as the one on Dark Moon Island, also designed by Philias. Neo taught it to me." "But something went wrong on Dark Moon Island," Pu'er retorted. "If it were me, I definitely wouldn't use it again." "I wouldn't know about that. Still, I'd like to attend. We're just idling our time away right now anyway. What if we find a way to get straight back? Right?" "I just feel bad for these Light remnants. They seem to always be getting used, or else on their way to being used, meow." "In truth, as the weaker side, their room for choice has always been small. I'm not speaking up for them, but for people like them, doing nothing simply means being slowly forgotten. Yet with their current strength and standing, accomplishing anything decent is inherently difficult." "Karen, you are speaking up for them. The old you would never have said such things." "Probably because the old me was more afraid of getting tangled in such trouble. Now, I have at least some confidence in handling sensitive matters like this—likely honed by following Neo." "Perhaps. Regardless, I know you can handle things." Just then, Philomena brought over three desserts. Karen found a long stone bench and sat down. The dessert was coconut milk with regular milk, accompanied by raisins and other dried fruits, and finished off with ice cubes and a scoop of ice cream. Philomena handed a bowl to Karen, saying, "No sugar added." Karen nodded, took it, and scooped a mouthful with the wooden spoon. It was cool and refreshing, and tasted quite good. After Pu'er took several consecutive bites, it looked up and lightly patted Karen, who was sitting beside it, with its tail. Karen pinched his sleeve with his right hand, leaned down, and wiped the crumbs and syrup from around its mouth. Pu'er then lowered its head to keep eating. Once it was halfway through, Pu'er stopped to rest and patted Philomena with its tail. Imitating Karen's earlier motion, Philomena used her own sleeve to wipe Pu'er's mouth. "Very well learned. I'm finding I kind of like you. Teasing an icy beauty easily brings a sense of accomplishment. Trust me, your captain definitely feels the same way about you. When he suppresses you, he must be secretly delighted inside, heh-heh, meow." "What nonsense are you babbling?" "You had the Radio Fairy cut off my romance novels, so I could only get my paws on some psychology books. I'm a fast learner, Karen." "Heh." "Oh my, for some reason, I really like this place. The air here seems permeated with a scent that makes me feel cheerful." "Didn't get enough to eat?" "I'm full." Pu'er patted its belly. "Fire Island... could it be close to my elemental affinity?" "Do you have any concrete clues?" "Nope." "Then I won't waste time investigating it for you." "Oh, you're so practical." Muri and the old captain came out carrying a large pile of supplies. Karen said to Muri, "Take the supplies and Philomena back to the ship first. Take Pu'er along too." "Yes, Captain." Pu'er immediately wanted to protest. However, once Karen's gaze fell upon it, it lowered its neck again. Bantering about the Light remnants was one thing, but attending their secret gathering carried immense risk; it could easily become a liability. Even so, Pu'er suggested, "Take Philomena with you. Even if the girl isn't the sharpest tool in the shed, you still need someone by your side to run errands." Hearing those words, the drink in Philomena's hand rippled slightly. To avoid being marginalized, squeezing toward the inner circle was naturally best, so she directly ignored Pu'er's remark about not being the sharpest. "All right. Philomena, come with me." "Yes, Captain." "Muri, after you get back, have everyone continue waiting patiently. If anything happens, I'll send a signal." "I know what to do, Captain." Karen then looked at the old captain. "Once we leave, I will pay you your reward. The Church of the Abyss never lets down anyone who has helped it." "You are far too polite, sir. Serving you is my honor." After parting ways with the others, Karen and Philomena sat on the bench for a while longer before standing up and setting out to locate the meeting place according to the secret signals. The reason he had chosen to wait earlier was that the gathering was set for late at night; there was no need to rush. Philomena followed quietly behind Karen. Truth be told, having her around gave Karen peace of mind, because when push came to shove, this girl truly could fight. Furthermore, with the common goal of helping her deal with her grandmother ahead, her loyalty was essentially guaranteed. Relationships bound solely by interest often didn't last, but before that shared interest disappeared, they were exceedingly solid. At last, they arrived at the gathering location at the end of the street ahead. "Wait for me here." "Understood, Captain." Philomena remained in place, and Karen continued forward. At a street corner, he touched the ring on his hand, took on the appearance of Mr. Pavaro, and bought a face mask along the way to put on his head. Shortly after, Karen arrived at the entrance of a café—a legitimate café, to be sure. Stepping inside, Karen sat down at a small table. A waitress walked over and presented a menu. There were secret markings on the pictures in the menu. Taking a pen, Karen circled them one by one. When he handed it back, the waitress smiled and said, "Sir, we have VIP private rooms available. Would you like one?" "Sure." "Entering the VIP private room requires removing your mask. Are you willing, sir?" "No problem." Karen took off his mask, stood up, and followed the waitress into the private room. Calling it a private room was generous; it was quite small, containing only a small table and a chair, upon which sat a fruit platter, a pot of coffee, and a pot of tea. The space felt somewhat cramped, not unlike the small booth where Richard often went to "make pastries." Karen sat down, poured himself a cup of coffee and a cup of tea, brought them to his nose to sniff, but didn't drink. He picked up a metal skewer, poked at the fruit a few times, but didn't put a single piece into his mouth. Slowing his breathing, Karen closed his eyes and began to wait patiently. After a brief rest of about twenty minutes, a crisp grinding sound reached his ears. Karen opened his eyes to see the partition board before him sliding downward, revealing a sheet of transparent glass. Looking through the glass, Karen realized the room seemed to be circular. He could see figures seated behind other panes of glass, though their faces were obscured, while behind some panes, the seats were vacant. This was likely a gathering where the participants could not be tallied. Such an arrangement had the advantage of protecting the participants' identities as much as possible, but the downside was that if an infiltrator slipped in, they would be exceedingly difficult to detect. A figure appeared in the central area, dressed in a grey robe with a mask over his face. "Thank you, everyone, for coming to this impromptu gathering. The purpose of this meeting is that Fire Island is now facing a choice between standing with Samsara or the Moon God Church, two orthodox churches. "I believe we must preserve Fire Island's independence. A relatively autonomous Fire Island aligns best with our goal of continued development for Light here. In my view, regardless of how this war ends, both Samsara and the Moon God Church will fall under deeper control by Order. "They have gradually been reduced to two dogs kept by Order. If the Moon God Church's military campaign had progressed more smoothly, things might not be quite so dire, but the problem is that their advance has suffered severe setbacks. "Therefore, whichever side Fire Island backs, it will ultimately face the intrusion of Order's forces. "And the Church of Order is the church most hostile to our Light. "Thus, I hope you will use your influence in the secular sphere to preserve Fire Island's independence as much as possible. This is also to protect the soil upon which our survival and development depend. "This will be our primary direction in the coming period. Very well, the meeting is concluded. Dismissed." *Hm? That's it?* Karen was somewhat surprised. He didn't understand why a mere one-way announcement required such elaborate measures. This could only mean that the attendees were of no ordinary status; among them were likely senior figures from the seven families of the Romaford Alliance, individuals capable of altering the situation on Fire Island. Karen stepped out of the private room. A waiter stood by the door, gesturing for Karen to wait a moment—evidently, they were escorting participants out in staggered batches. After waiting a short while until his turn came, the waiter led Karen to the back door and let him leave. Karen felt as though he had infiltrated for nothing. He had heard about the upcoming priorities of the Light remnants on Fire Island, but what did that have to do with him right now? *Forget it, better head back to the ship.* Yet Karen hadn't walked far when he noticed a carriage trailing him. He deliberately took a curving route, but the other party followed right along. After a moment, Karen continued walking forward and turned into an alley at the next street corner. The carriage pulled to a stop at the alley entrance. The intent was clear and unambiguous: he had been made. Moreover, by trailing him with a carriage, they were signaling a relatively friendly posture. Karen simply walked up to the carriage. The driver glanced at Karen and said, "My master wishes to see you, sir." "The one inside the carriage is your master?" "Yes, sir." Karen opened the carriage door and stepped inside. Seated within was the man in the grey robe, still wearing his mask. "Heh-heh." A low, slightly raspy chuckle came from the man. Now observing him at close range, Karen noticed that where his right arm should have been, the sleeve hung empty. "You should have eaten an apple from the fruit platter. Even if you didn't eat it, you should have picked one out and set it outside the dish." "Oh? Is that so? That was something I didn't know." "Yes, a very simple habit, but often wonderfully effective. Most people assume infiltrators wouldn't be so foolish, but many times, truly skilled infiltrators make mistakes precisely on such minor details. "Therefore, the threshold for screening doesn't need to be set high. That would be too obvious. Keep it low, and it's far easier to trip someone up." "I only attended out of curiosity," Karen said. "I bear no ill intent." "Yes, I believe you." With his left hand, the man removed the mask from his face, revealing a countenance intimately familiar to Karen—Tafman. Ophelia's uncle, the former fleet commander of Dark Moon Island. "Your appearance looks somewhat familiar to me," Karen remarked placidly. "I suggest you refrain from using Mr. Pavaro's face in the future. As the man my niece favors, I naturally investigated him. He still lives at the Pavaro Funeral Parlor and was once a servant under the Pavaro Inquisitorial Office. "I remember this face, Mr. Karen." Well then, his cover was blown. Karen touched his ring, reverting to his original appearance. "You should have been more careful," Tafman said. "There was no way I could have known I would run into you here, Lord Tafman. This isn't a matter of being careful or not; it can only be called bad luck." "If I recall, you should be with the Order delegation right now. No—according to news released by the Moon God Church, that delegation was supposedly killed in the naval clash with Samsara, sinking along with the flagship." "My luck wasn't bad. I survived." "You survived and made it to Fire Island? Ah, you're hoping to use the formation here to leave, aren't you?" "Yes, exactly. But the timing couldn't have been worse." "Indeed. Your identity as a member of the Church of Order cannot be revealed on Fire Island. In the previous naval battle against Dark Moon Island, the Romaford Alliance suffered a crushing defeat. They utterly despise the Church of Order for aiding the Dark Moon fleet. "While they wouldn't dare publicly denounce the Church of Order in broad daylight, privately... they are pirates, after all, and will never truly shed their savage nature." "I am curious: why are you here? Is Dark Moon Island preparing to attack the Romaford Alliance?" "The current commander of the Dark Moon fleet belongs to your Church of Order. I resigned from my post long ago. Today, I am a believer of Light, working here in service of Light. "Does that sound somewhat ridiculous? I slaughtered so many believers of Light on Dark Moon Island, yet here I am doing this sort of work." "People change." "Yes, people change. I just wonder if Mr. Karen will change as well." "I consider my faith to be rather steadfast." "I can help you return," Tafman said. "Conditions?" "No conditions. You only need to wait a short while—perhaps two days, and that will be enough." "No conditions?" Karen pressed his lips together. "I'd actually prefer an opportunity for equivalent exchange." "When Dorons halted its steps before Dark Moon Town, did it demand conditions?" "All right. I understand." "Two days from now, at this same hour, you... if you have other companions, you may bring them to that café. I will arrange for your departure via the teleportation formation. "Of course, if you don't trust me and believe this to be a trap, you don't have to come." "Of course I trust you, Lord Tafman. I believe in the benevolence and tolerance of Light." "Yet I remember you saying just now that your faith was steadfast." "Steadfast in adhering to my own flexible policy." "Hahaha!" Tafman laughed, and Karen joined in. "There is one more matter. I am debating whether I ought to tell you." "Then don't tell me. I want to leave as soon as possible and don't wish to invite further complications." Tafman gazed wistfully at the stream of pedestrians outside the carriage and murmured with emotion, "Fire Island is just as lively as Dark Moon Island. Don't you think?" "Dark Moon Island's scenery and culture are far more beautiful than this place. I'm not just saying that to flatter you; I genuinely believe it." "Heh. But if the beauty here were to be destroyed, wouldn't that also be a great pity?" "Lord Tafman, what exactly are you trying to say?" "In two days, we will gain the right to privately use the island's teleportation formation, which is why I'll have the chance to send you away first. Afterward, we will be receiving an important figure from our church." "An important figure from your church?" Karen said with some exasperation. "Light still wants to stir up trouble on Fire Island?" "Those three families invited him. Deep within Fire Island lies an extinct volcano, where secrets belonging to the God of Fire are said to be buried. The three families occupying Fire Island couldn't possibly be uninterested in such a secret. "You know how it is. Pirates' ambitions are always far greater than their strength." "I think you ought to stop there. If you keep telling me, aren't you afraid that after I leave, I'll report it to the higher-ups of Order?" "Is it possible that I want you to report it to the higher-ups of Order, Mr. Karen?" "You want the Church of Order to step in and stop this?" "For the sake of the people living on Fire Island. That is what Mr. Philias taught me. There is another matter—you might not know of the tragedy on the Mipos Archipelago." "Tragedy?" "The Moon God Church released word claiming that Samsara slaughtered and sacrificed all the residents of the Mipos Archipelago. Samsara vehemently denies this." "I don't know whether that's true. I've been out of touch with the outside world for a long time." "It is likely true. When the Mipos Archipelago fell, someone fled back to Fire Island through a teleportation formation at the final moment. He recounted some of the horrors he witnessed, saying that the Samsara priests who landed turned into demons that devoured everyone in sight." "A moment of silence for them." "The tragedy has already happened, beyond saving. All we can do is prevent the start of the next tragedy—for example, right here. "There is a legend that the God of Fire once sealed a monstrous creature here. If that seal is truly broken and the creature remains alive, it would be a catastrophic disaster for the people on this island. "Think back: for every powerful entity sealed and slumbering for ages, what is the very first thing they do upon waking? ...Devour." "If that is what you wish, I will report the situation." "Very well. Thank you, Mr. Karen. You may step down." Karen stood up, then sat back down, looking at Tafman with curiosity. "Why don't you speak to me as a member of the Dark Moon clan? It felt as though our entire conversation treated me purely as someone from the Church of Order." Tafman smiled and answered, "Two reasons. First, I have always harbored doubts regarding your identity as part of the Dark Moon clan, Mr. Karen. Even when you were gravely injured and unconscious on Snake Island, I didn't fully trust your background. "Second, I have grown accustomed to simplifying the world in my eyes. The things I don't want to care about or don't need to care about, I can truly set aside. Do you understand what I mean?" "I can sense your open-mindedness, Mr. Tafman." If Alfred were here, Karen would have loved to teach him another saying: *Lay down the butcher's blade and become a Buddha on the spot.* The Tafman before him truly gave him that impression. Though Philias had departed, he had burned himself, yet illuminated others. Karen couldn't help but worry a little about his team leader, Neo. After all, while others were merely illuminated, Neo had been directly engulfed in flames. Fortunately, judging from things so far, the impact on Neo didn't seem too severe. Look at General Tafman racking his brains for the safety of ordinary living souls, while Neo was still taking to rooftops over leveraged stock trades. "Then I shall take my leave." "Until two days from now, Mr. Karen." Karen reached out and grabbed the carriage door handle, asking, "I am curious about one thing: how did our Church of Order respond to the tragedy on the Mipos Archipelago?" "The Church of Order's response was that they would send specialized personnel to investigate and would make no comment until the truth was verified. "Yet how was Samsara able to capture the Mipos Archipelago in the first place? "How was Samsara's captured fleet returned so quickly and redeployed onto the battlefield? "Does Order truly not know what took place on the Mipos Archipelago? Do they truly still need to investigate?" "Then it must be the God of Samsara manifesting to protect his followers." "Perhaps. In truth, as a believer of Light, I genuinely hope that while the light of this world remains dimmed, Order can maintain peace across the realm. "Of course, if Order is no longer willing to shoulder that responsibility and allows this world to plunge once more into chaos..." "What then?" A bitter smile surfaced on Tafman's face. With a sigh, he replied, "Then people will once more call for the return of Light."