Chapter 268: Treasure!

Chapter 268: Treasure!

In the morning, everyone lined up in the courtyard under the captain's leadership.

Chief Bishop Wolfrun took Leon and Laure into the carriage, and the rest escorted the convoy to the entrance of the assembly hall.

Today, Karen did not follow them inside; Richard and Marlo went in instead.

Richard had originally wanted to invite Karen along, having learned from Memphis the previous night that the conditions inside the hall were quite excellent, with fine meals and refreshments available even for those in the gallery.

But Karen declined, so Richard turned to Memphis, who also refused.

In the end, it was the captain who singled out Marlo to accompany him.

The others had no desire to waste a whole day inside a meeting hall; the hotel itself offered plenty of amusement, and the world outside promised even more.

"Alright, dismissed!"

Once the captain declared their dismissal, he wandered off alone, and as Karen watched his retreating figure, he knew full well that the captain was heading out to stir up trouble.

Karen remained at the hotel, since too much had transpired over the past few days, and went straight back to their quarters in the courtyard.

Just then, Vanny and Paget pushed open the door and walked in, both women dressed in casual attire, clearly intent on a shopping excursion.

"Don’t worry, I know you don't want to go; we just came to say goodbye," Paget said.

"Was last night's matter resolved?" Vanny asked.

Karen nodded.

"That's good then. We're heading out, see you tonight."

"Yes, see you tonight."

Karen picked up a water cup, and before pouring himself a drink, he looked at the bottom of the cup, mimicking the captain’s gesture from the night before.

At that moment, a figure appeared by the window—it was Ophelia.

"Coming to find you this early, does it make me seem terribly impatient?"

A girl always wished to maintain some semblance of reserve.

Provided, of course, that the boy knew how to take the initiative.

"Not at all," Karen said, shaking his head.

Ophelia pushed the room door open, stepped inside, and casually drew the curtains closed before shedding her noble-style Dark Moon robe.

Beneath it lay a white inner lining, smooth in texture and faintly lustrous.

Being a warrior who regularly practiced martial skills, her appetite was far larger than that of an ordinary person, yet her body bore no trace of excess fat; nor, of course, was she slender to the bone, possessing instead the taut, youthful plumpness of her years.

All of this Karen noted from her exposed arms and what lay in view.

"Which one is your bed?"

Karen pointed.

Ophelia lay down upon Karen's bed, pulled back the duvet, covered herself, and closed her eyes.

When a beautiful girl crawled into your bed right before your eyes, what would you do?

Karen merely walked silently to the foot of the bed and tucked her in, making sure her feet were covered.

A faint fragrance drifted from her, suggesting she had taken a morning bath just before arriving.

Karen then poured Ophelia a glass of warm water, leaving out the ice, and placed it on the nightstand.

Afterward, he sat down by the edge of the captain's bed and retrieved a book he had brought along in his luggage, "The Lost Perseverance."

Ophelia slept, and Karen read.

It was not that Karen was putting on airs; he simply knew the girl had likely not slept a wink all night, and having been poisoned the previous evening, though now cured, she could not escape the profound exhaustion and weakness that followed.

The events of the past night had dealt her a massive, shattering blow; she could accept it without breaking down, but she needed time to recover.

A family was meant to be a warm harbor, yet last night, the final shred of tenderness had been violently ripped away.

Most unforgettable of all was the image of the Third Highness cradling the two heads of his older brothers.

By comparison, the Allen family actually fared much better, though the primary reason for this was likely that the family had fallen from grace, making any struggle for power and profit rather pointless.

The eldest had married a purple-haired woman, the second was crippled, and the third was obsessed with art; even if old Anderson wanted to foster a cutthroat environment to spur ambition at home, reality simply forbade it.

Karen flipped through the pages of the book, which told the story of a protagonist whose wife had become a vegetable due to an accident, detailing his daily routine of going to work, coming home, chatting with his wife, and helping massage and wipe her body down;

He experienced bitterness, felt resentment, and harbored thoughts of giving up, wavering time and again, yet in the end, he chose to shoulder the entire burden.

Karen turned to the conclusion, only to find that the very last page had been torn out.

The final chapter was titled: "Did She Wake?"

Since it was framed with quotation marks, it proved that the wife ultimately never woke up.

Well, Karen understood now; this book had not been packed into his luggage by Alfred, for the ever-considerate and meticulous Alfred would never make such a blunder.

It must have been a certain cat, stealthily slipping the book into his suitcase, and to prevent him from feeling discouraged by the final ending—which would have backfired—it had gone out of its way to tear the last page out.

Heh.

A faint smile graced the corner of Karen’s mouth.

He usually didn't think much of it at home, but after leaving, especially when falling asleep each night and waking each morning without the sight of that cat around, it truly felt a bit unfamiliar.

Though she would occasionally throw a young lady's tantrum, her innocence and straightforwardness, which remained unaltered even after a hundred years, could truly affect those around her.

After all, an ordinary person spending a few years in prison could undergo a complete change in temperament.

Ophelia slept until the afternoon, and upon waking, she turned her head, opened her eyes, and saw Karen sitting on the adjacent bed, engrossed in his book.

Opening her eyes and seeing him right there was a wonderful feeling.

Karen moved his book aside, looked at Ophelia, and asked, "Are you hungry?"

"I am."

"It's a bit cold, but it should still be edible." Karen produced two trays and handed one to Ophelia.

"Let me freshen up first."

"Alright, then I'll go heat the food up."

By the time Karen returned with the warmed meals, Ophelia had already finished washing up, and the two sat on their respective beds to eat.

"I'm sorry for keeping you from going out today," Ophelia said.

"It's fine, I hadn't planned on going out today anyway; the pace of life lately has been too full, and I wanted some peace and quiet."

"Then I've disturbed your quiet."

"Not at all, I doubt any man seeking quiet would refuse a beautiful, quiet woman lying right beside him while he enjoys it."

"Wouldn't that be rather torturous instead?"

Having uttered those words, Ophelia lowered her head, pretending to continue her meal normally, though her cheeks flushed slightly pink.

At times, a bit of flirtatious banter was indeed an excellent way to close the distance between two people, serving to test each other's boundaries, though Karen had always been careful never to crack such jokes with Ophelia.

In contrast, he would occasionally exchange a few such lines with Paget and Vanny.

Karen smiled faintly and said, "I am fine, but you are far too exhausted."

"I have rested well now."

"Cherish this hard-earned energy. Sometimes when things get busy, sleep becomes a form of strategic reserve."

"I feel that the way you treat them is different from how you treat me."

"Oh, is that so?"

"Last night, I saw them naked, soaking in the hot spring with you."

"Our relationship is that of colleagues—no, companions. If I were injured one day, no matter the spot, they would treat me immediately, and I would do the exact same for them.

In fact, my first mission with them was to receive you. We were staying in the suite right across from your room at the time, remember?"

"I remember. I felt you were quite fortunate back then, having two beautiful women sleeping alongside you."

"Is that what you thought at the time?"

"Yes. A few days before heading back, the mere thought of you sharing a bed with them at night began to make me feel rather uncomfortable."

"That was work."

"You do not need to explain to me; I am not your fiancée, after all."

"Very well, my apologies."

"Right, who arranged the blind date for you? Whose word carries weight in your family?"

"My grandfather."

"Where is your grandfather now?"

"He has encountered some health issues and it is currently inconvenient for him to receive guests."

"I am sorry."

"It is fine. His health will recover in the near future, of that I am firmly convinced."

"Yes, it will certainly recover."

Ophelia finished her food swiftly.

Seeing this, Karen brought over three insulated food canisters from the doorway, using a large ladle to add more side dishes and staple food for Ophelia.

"Am I eating a bit too much?"

"To be able to eat is a blessing."

"Truly?"

"Yes. Whether life in a household is good or not depends entirely on whether the girls of the house eat well enough to grow plump."

"Then is life in your household good?"

"Not good. It is very tight; the monthly expense for coffee alone is no small sum."

"The island did provide you with some voucher allowances."

"Those vouchers are not meant to be squandered on domestic luxuries."

"If you lack vouchers, you can tell me. Originally there were four siblings of us, but last night two were lost. The most direct consequence is that starting next month, the monthly allowance my third brother and I can draw has directly doubled."

"There is such a benefit?"

"The expenditures for the direct lineage are fixed, and whatever is left unclaimed is not returned. However, usually on the island, there are not many places where I need to spend anything."

"Still, there is no need. Vouchers earned by one's own hand are far more interesting to spend."

"Does this count as a man's pride? I know some men possess an instinctive resistance toward spending a woman's money. Are you like that as well?"

"No, I am not. I respect equality between men and women.

Yet I still feel that within a family, a man earning money to support the household is an inescapable obligation and responsibility."

Ophelia was finally finished eating, with just a tiny bit left in the canister.

Karen placed the tray and utensils back into the canister and carried it out to the courtyard; someone would come to collect them tonight, so there was no need to wash the dishes himself.

"Today's meeting is drawing to a close," Ophelia remarked.

"Yes, indeed."

"Now that I am full, I would like to take a walk. Karen, accompany me."

"Very well."

Just as Karen and Ophelia stepped out of the courtyard together, they caught sight of a carriage driving toward them. The carriage door happened to be open, and inside sat Bishop Warfuren, Leon, and Laurey.

Today's meeting had concluded much earlier than yesterday's, which resulted in many bishops emerging before the honor guard had even finished regrouping.

Karen stood to the side, lowering his head in a respectful salute.

Ophelia, on the other hand, greeted Bishop Warfuren, "Good day, Bishop."

"Good day, Your Highness."

After the exchange of greetings, Ophelia gently tugged at Karen's arm. Left with no choice, Karen could only continue walking outward with her.

The carriage pulled into the yard. Before stepping down, Bishop Warfuren's gaze turned somewhat somber.

Beside him, Leon and Laurey both sat rigidly straight; they knew the old gentleman was likely angry.

"Leon."

"Grandfather."

"Do you not think that the two of us, grandfather and grandson, look like a farce?"

"Grandfather, I am one, but you are not."

"Mm." Warfuren nodded. "You have grown."

"Grandfather, in truth, my feelings toward Her Highness are not..."

Leon was preparing to vindicate Karen; he had no interest in using his grandfather's authority to suppress him.

"It is best if you have no feelings toward Her Highness. Last night, the director of the York City Archdiocese's Mission Department replied to me. The configuration and arrangement of this negotiation team was intervened in by a prominent figure."

"A prominent figure?"

Laurey's expression shifted as well. One must know that even if the old gentleman Warfuren stood face-to-face with a Cardinal, they could converse quite freely; even if he maintained a degree of humility, the Cardinal would still grant him face.

Therefore, the "prominent figure" spoken of by the old gentleman...

"I do not know which prominent figure it is either, nor do I intend to investigate further. Just like the negotiations with the Church of Pamires that day and the subsequent development toward the Church of Samsara.

There are some matters that I simply lack the qualifications to know."

"Grandfather..."

"In short, let this matter rest as it is."

"Yes, Grandfather."

Leon breathed a long sigh of relief. He had initially worried that his grandfather would harbor a grudge against Karen for damaging the honor of the Deel family, but he had not expected his grandfather to instead comfort him and tell him not to be angry.

"How is your relationship with Karen?"

"It is well enough; we might be considered friends."

"That is good. Let us arrange a meal for tomorrow. Invite Karen and Neo; we shall dine out."

"Grandfather, at what time?"

"In the afternoon, perhaps. After all, who among us is truly going for the food? Heh, the negotiations will draw to a close tomorrow morning, and the attitude from the Samsara faction is quite favorable. By the way, you and Laure must apply yourselves recently. The Gate of Samsara opens but once a decade, and the next opening is close at hand, just next month. We have twelve slots allotted to us. When the candidate list is submitted, I will include both your names."

"Thank you, Grandfather."

"Thank you, Your Eminence."

"Do not be so quick to offer thanks, for an evaluation must be endured. The Gate of Samsara is fraught with peril. Countless young talents perish within its depths every time; during the most brutal trials, perhaps half of them never emerge. Naturally, those who do survive reap magnificent rewards."

"For instance, acquiring a companion soul and sealing a Samsara covenant."

"If it were a matter of mere nepotism, I would not dare thrust the two of you inside. Sending you to your deaths serves no purpose. When the evaluation arrives, exert yourselves fully. Ah, and lately you would do well to study some grimoires regarding souls and spiritual magic."

"Yes, Grandfather."

"Yes, Your Eminence."

"Grandfather, what of Karen then..."

"He is merely a divine servant, is he not?" Wolfrun inquired. "So it is inscribed upon the dossier—a servant under the jurisdiction of the Pavaro Inquisition."

Laure spoke up, "Your Highness Ophelia has taken a fancy to a mere divine servant of our Order? Since when have the servants of our faith become so precious?"

"Heh, very well. In any case, even if he registers, his name shall never grace the list I present. If there is indeed some grand figure backing him, let that grand figure register him instead."

Leon said with some anxiety, "Grandfather, is this truly appropriate?"

Wolfrun smiled and said, "It will suffice. Even if it truly were a figure of such caliber, given my current stature and position, I possess, barely, the right to indulge a small whim and throw a minor tantrum."

...

The Palace of Yearning.

Corpse after corpse was being dragged away, and the crimson pooling upon the ground was being cleansed.

In the distance, Taffman gazed upon the scene before him.

The remnants of the Light had launched a surprise assault upon the Palace of Yearning, yet with preparations long since made on this side, the so-called ambush dissolved into a fool's errand to the grave.

Encircled and suppressed by the Dark Moon warriors, nearly all the remnants of the Light who participated in the raid lost their lives.

Yet Taffman harbored a lingering doubt, for the individual who had sat beside him that day and revealed the secret of the "Covenant Conch" to the assembly was nowhere to be seen.

Had they succumbed to sudden terror and feared to show themselves?

Or,

Were these incited remnants of the Light merely a smokescreen?

"General," Sebas, the host of the remnants' gathering, bowed to Taffman. "After this purging, the remnants of the Light upon the island have suffered devastating losses. They likely will not form a significant presence again for another decade."

"Mm," Taffman nodded. "Continue your gathering and scouting. The Dark Moon shall not forget your contribution."

"Yes, my Lord."

Sebas, the frail old man, bowed and withdrew.

Presently, a warrior approached. "General, once the clearing is complete, should the guard detachment withdraw from this place?"

"No, remain stationed here, and dispatch an additional squad of guards to heighten our defensive alertness."

"Yes, General."

Taffman turned and walked outward.

He did not depart through the main gates, choosing instead the narrow path behind the Palace of Yearning; for he had come disguised in civilian attire alongside that flock of Light remnants today, and as he walked, he slipped his mask back over his features to conceal the displeasure etched upon his face.

Upon the path, a figure suddenly materialized, wearing a serpent-headed mask.

"Ah, it appears failure has carried the day," the captain lamented. "I suspected there would be a traitor within that assembly."

Taffman was just preparing to speak,

only to hear the man opposite him swiftly pivot his words:

"You are as clever as I am; surely you must have also deduced that a traitor lurked within that gathering, correct?"

"Indeed."

With that, Taffman reached up to remove his mask, unable to believe that the man before him was so naive... for this was Philias, the one Taffman was convinced had slipped into his estate that day and triggered the teleportation array to Snake Island.

"Do not remove the mask. It is best that both our identities remain shrouded; this bodes well for us both."

"I believe we ought to be more candid with each other."

"I have no fondness for candor; I am accustomed to a life behind masks. If you refrain from uncovering your face now, I shall take you to partake in something quite intriguing shortly."

"Oh? What might that be?" Taffman inquired in bewilderment, though his hand halted its motion to unmask.

"Tonight, I shall allow you to hear the roar of Dorons. Do you look forward to it?"

"Naturally."

"Very well, then trust me. Yet before that... we must deepen our mutual confidence. Are you not concerned that I might be the traitor?"

"Not in the least." For the traitor was himself.

"And yet, I worry that you might be the traitor."

Beneath his mask, Taffman curled his lips into a smile; emerging entirely unscathed from the Palace of Yearning was already an explicit declaration of his duplicity.

The captain spoke, "Come, let us verify."

The captain raised his hand, and within his palm, the pure flame of Light blossomed.

"Your turn."

"Very well."

Taffman raised his hand, and from his palm, a flame of pure Light similarly ascended.

"It seems both you and I belong to the Light," the captain remarked.

"Yes."

The captain spoke again, "Have you ever wavered?"

"I have never wavered." For his loyalty belonged to the Dark Moon.

"I am quite different, for I waver constantly—every single day, rocking back and forth until the very motion yields a peculiar pleasure."

"Then you..."

"No matter. The Light forgives all."

"Of course, for the Light is most benevolent and merciful."

"Let me share another secret with you. Do you know why Philias cast Dorons into slumber all those years ago?"

"Because he wished to demonstrate to Bernard and his own followers his absolute resolve to take root and flourish upon Dark Moon Island."

"That element was certainly present, yet there is another reason: within the belly of Dorons lies accumulated the treasure of the Philias family, a legacy descended from the house of Philias—the heritage of the royal lineage of the Church of Light."

"That is the very treasure Philias prepared for the revival of the Church of Light. It is no mere accumulation of gold, silver, or jewels—the sort of useless, space-consuming rubbish. Within it, there may even be... a divine artifact of the Light!"

"Is it true?"

"Do you believe it?"

"Not entirely."

"Would you like to put it to the test, then?"

"I would."