Chapter 437: Mutation

Chapter 437: Mutation

Cullen stared at the red hue bleeding across the carpet and pursed his lips.

Was this a portent?

At this juncture, Cullen could not deceive himself into believing it was mere coincidence; if one had already envisioned events spiraling into an unpredictable abyss, they would, in all likelihood, head exactly that way.

For he already knew the purpose behind the Luna Cult Son of God's explicit request for Ophelia's reception, and he knew that a remnant of the Light—one who had allegedly returned from the Divine Burial Ground—would lead an attack targeting this very event.

Most importantly,

this was the first official mission since the formation of his squad, and it seemed that if some mishap did not occur, it would hardly do justice to such an exceptionally brilliant lineup.

"Captain, shall I remove the carpet?"

"No, leave it as it is, it looks quite nice."

Cullen stepped out of the carriage, stretched his limbs, and said, "Let us go and greet them."

The cruise ship docked, and the gangplank, draped in a golden carpet, was lowered.

Cullen frowned slightly, observing closely, only to realize it was not golden, but a bright yellow, though the two shades were exceedingly close, especially under the glare of the sun.

In truth, the great orthodox churches maintained strict restrictions on the use of "gold," because only those who had condensed a divine fragment could manifest a golden aura, or even golden blood.

Within the Church of Order, only the divine robes of the temple elders were embroidered with golden trim.

The first to descend were a band of warriors clad in yellow armor, marching down in unison with long spears held aloft.

Furthermore, as the front rank stepped off the gangplank, they did not split to the sides in a timely manner but continued straight ahead, the tips of their long spears already wavering right in front of Cullen.

Ophelia instinctively wanted to step back to clear the path, but casting a glance at Cullen before her and seeing him shift his hands from a forward posture to resting behind his back, she remained still.

Cullen could not retreat; while this was indeed a security detail, in the tradition of the Church of Order, the dispatched squad of the Whip of Order was essentially a guard of honor, serving a ceremonial purpose, which meant they represented the face of the Church of Order.

Ultimately, just as the spearheads were about to touch Cullen, the armored warriors veered to the sides.

Cullen silently brought his hands from behind his back to his front once more.

At the same time, he thought to himself that this was rather tedious; what was the point?

Once the spearmen had formed their ranks, a woman in a long dress walked down from above, appearing quite young, perhaps not even twenty. Her dress was not grand or luxurious but rather plain; she walked barefoot down the gangplank, looking very much like a woman walking upon the grass in an oil painting.

This had to be the contemporary Son of God of the Luna Cult.

However, Cullen was not yet certain of her name, for the Luna Cult possessed a ritual known as the Lunar Radiance, and each occurrence marked a rebirth of sorts, whereupon a new name would

"Yes."

"I like flower petals."

Along the way, Cullen’s heart had been suspended in mid-air, filled with worry that they might encounter an ambush on the journey to the hotel; after all, it wasn't as if such things hadn't happened before.

When they finally entered the Ankara Hotel, Cullen breathed a long sigh of relief; at least the most unpredictable phase was over, and within the Ankara Hotel, one at least did not have to worry about attacks coming from the outermost periphery.

The check-in process was swift, followed by taking the elevator, with each stage serving as a layer of protection, while the hotel room itself was the safest sanctuary.

"My Lady, please enter."

Salayina walked to the French window, gazing at the sea and sky outside, and remarked with sighing emotion, "I like the scenery here very much, Captain Cullen. Is the weather in Vienne often like this?"

"Yes, My Lady, Vienne rarely sees truly clear, sunny days."

"I quite like this feeling, it's like a rendered effect, possessing an atmosphere I cannot quite describe..."

Like an ink wash painting?

Cullen spoke up, "A beauty of artistic conception, capable of drawing one's emotions into it."

Hearing this reply, Salayina turned to look at Cullen with a touch of surprise, then glanced at Ophelia, smiling, "Now I can understand."

Ophelia did not chime in; she needed to maintain an unfamiliar, detached demeanor with Cullen, as if they shared no relationship.

In truth, her current connection with Cullen was more of a cooperative partnership, such as the trade route between Dark Moon Island and the Allen Manor, which was providing a continuous stream of revenue for Cullen; otherwise, how could the construction and materials for those coffin arrays in the manor’s performance hall, along with their operational maintenance costs, ever be covered?

Well, this was also quite fine, as relationships bound by interest were often the most unbreakable.

What surprised Cullen somewhat was that Salayina had no maidservants, yet Science, the manservant, was already in the washroom running the bathwater for her—did this mean they were to share a single bedroom for close personal attendance?

Could it be that this Science was a eunuch?

"Your afternoon tea will be delivered shortly. If you have any special dietary requirements, please instruct me tonight; for safety reasons, the menu cannot be temporarily altered on the day itself.

There will be a welcome banquet at eight o'clock in the evening, and in the meantime, you may rest."

"Very well."

"Then we shall not disturb your rest. I will come to remind you to proceed to the banquet at a quarter to eight."

"Mm."

Cullen and Ophelia walked out of the room, closing the door behind them.

Ophelia looked down at her own hand, and only then did Cullen notice the crimson hue welling up beneath the surface of her palm's skin, looking as if she had been scalded, yet she had been enduring it all along without revealing the slightest abnormality.

Earlier in the car, Salayina had caressed her hand for a long time, but even then, she had already been testing her, and in a very direct manner at that.

"I'll have Blanche go over to treat you," Cullen said.

"It's nothing," Ophelia shook her hand slightly, "a minor issue."

Then, Ophelia looked into Cullen's eyes, conveying to him in a silent manner: *She has tested me, but in all probability, she found nothing conclusive, so, please be careful.*

Cullen nodded to her.

As Ophelia walked toward her own room, Cullen unlocked the door to his own quarters directly opposite, and the moment the door shut, Cullen’s gaze sank heavily—he was angry.

"Blanche, go to Ophelia's room and help treat her hand."

"Oh, all right, Captain." Blanche went out.

Cullen sat down on the sofa, and Aisley brought him a glass of ice water; seeing that the captain's expression was grim, she refrained from saying anything more.

"Go rest." Cullen nodded to her.

"Alright, Captain."

Aisley opened the suite door and returned to her own room.

In truth, one could apply for room types independently, or rather, be willing to make up a portion of the fee, so there was a high probability that the reason Cullen had ended up sharing a bed with Fannie and Pegge back then was simply because Neo was loath to spend the money.

This time Cullen had submitted an application in advance and the hotel had approved it without making him pay extra, the reason being that Alfred and the hotel logistics supervisor’s tea-selling mistress had conversed with great mutual affinity.

Yes, you could always trust in Alfred's charm.

Cullen took a sip of water, then gently rubbed his brow with the fingers that had just held the glass, the sense of oppression in his heart growing heavier and heavier.

After a while, Blanche returned.

"Captain, I have already tended to Her Highness Ophelia's injury. It is not very severe, please rest assured."

Blanche felt a tinge of regret right after speaking, because that final phrase "please rest assured" was somewhat redundant.

"Go rest, the evening banquet might last quite a while."

"Alright, Captain, you should rest too."

"Mm."

After Blanche walked into the partition room, Cullen stood up, intending to lie on the bed for a while to relieve the exhaustion brought on by the mental tension of their journey back.

Then he stood by the bedside, looking at the oil painting of Ankara, the daughter of the God of Order, hanging above the headboard.

The angle of this oil painting was peculiar; when viewed from afar earlier, she seemed to be smiling, but upon drawing closer, one discovered her gaze was deep and solemn, imparting a completely different sensation.

For some unknown reason, a sentence popped into Cullen's mind, and he murmured it softly aloud:

"Can you bless this place?"

...

"It is not her."

Inside the large bathtub, Salayina was lying naked within the water, with Science standing beside her, his gaze pure and clear.

"But, then who could it be?"

Salayina shook her head and said, "Then the intelligence system will need to continue searching thoroughly. Fortunately, I have long been mentally prepared for this; how could truly delicious and high-quality ingredients ever let you spot them at a single glance?"

"Is it hiding in the depths?"

"It is also possible that it is placed right in front of you where you could never possibly notice it."

Salayina’s body began to tremble slightly, and fresh blood started to seep out from the pores across her entire body. She tilted her neck back, an expression of torment appearing on her face, but it was evident she had long grown accustomed to such circumstances.

The water in the bathtub quickly turned a vivid scarlet, and the woman’s body floated within it.

Science fetched the prepared petals, scattering them into the bathtub, then took two steps back and began to offer prayers toward the tub.

"You are the Supreme Moon God, Your radiance shall shine upon my body, and I shall forever bathe in Your holy light, offering You unreserved devotion."

Amidst the repetitive chants of prayer, the fresh blood in the bathtub began to flow backward, merging once more into Salayina’s body, and the surface of the water restored its pure clarity once again.

Salayina opened her eyes, a trace of deep exhaustion showing within her gaze.

"Science, tell me, just how much longer must I endure this kind of torture?"

"Just as the Sect Master said, the reason you manifest such a problem is precisely because you are simply too exceptional. It is the great Moon God wishing to bestow a gentle caress upon you."

Salayina stood up, and Science draped the bath towel over her body.

"But originally, I did not need to endure such pain. If the White Moon Crown were still within the Church, I could bathe in its light; not only would I not suffer the current agony, but I could also deepen my connection with the Moon God.

If it weren't for her stealing the White Moon Crown, generations of Holy Children and those close to the Moon God in our Church would never have had to endure this painful torment again.

The irony is,

"I am still staying in the hotel named after her."

"Everything will be returned." Science wiped the Divine Child's body, "Just as the laws of development predicted by the Church of Principles dictate, the true strongest church usually enjoys a peak of only one era. Moreover, after its peak, it rarely merely declines—it shatters completely.

I suspect the sign marking the end of this era will be the shattering of the Order Church."

Salaina smiled and said:

"But do you know how many years are left in this era? One year, a hundred years, a thousand years, or five thousand years?"

"I do not know, but I believe that the era belonging to the Moon God will come."

Salaina sighed and said, "Science, it's not that I look down on you."

"Please instruct me, my Lady."

"If that Captain Karen were to switch places with you, the words of comfort he speaks would probably make me feel much more comfortable than yours do. Yours sound a bit like reciting scriptures."

"I am guilty."

"Alright, alright."

Without putting on a bathrobe, Salaina walked out of the bathroom and stood before the French windows once more, gazing at the dark, oppressive scenery outside.

"Heh, the beauty of fully immersing oneself in an atmosphere."

...

The time arrived, and Karen brought Ophelia, Aisley, and Blanche to the door of Salaina's room. After ringing the doorbell, the door was opened.

Salaina had changed into a purple dress, exuding an air of nobility that made her seem like a completely different person from during the day, though she was still barefoot.

"My Lady, let us go down to the third floor to attend the banquet."

"Very well."

As the group walked toward the elevator lobby, Salaina remarked, "Are we the only ones living on this floor? It really is a bit desolate. I actually prefer a livelier environment."

"This is to ensure your safety."

"I imagine that in York City, it would be difficult to find a place safer than here."

"Indeed."

Stepping into the elevator, Karen pressed the button for the third floor.

Immediately afterward, everyone's expression suddenly shifted, because the elevator was not descending; it was ascending!

Karen immediately reached out to hit the emergency brake, but it was useless—the elevator continued its ascent. Right after, Karen spread his palm to manipulate the elevator with a sensing array. This floor was fixed to this single elevator, and the elevator itself was a highly defensive magical array; Karen, as a security personnel, had been given control of the array beforehand by the hotel.

Yet it remained useless. The elevator seemed to be controlled by a mysterious power, continuing its upward trajectory.

Seeing the illuminated floor indicator rapidly flashing upward toward the very top, Science asked anxiously, "What is on the top floor?"

Karen replied:

"The Ankara Memorial Hall."

———

More tonight.