Chapter 453: Source of Bad Luck

Chapter 453: The Source of Ill Fortune

Light and sound are both sluggish in the depths of the water, easily creating the illusion of slowed time; as the searing, dizzying white receded, it was replaced by red, an unreality of crimson.

Rationality told Karen that even if the ships above were pierced and blown apart, and many lives were lost, the scarlet of blood should not become the dominant hue—at least not from his current vantage point.

Yet intuitively, Karen knew that against such an apocalyptic assault, the destruction of this fleet was but a matter of time, many would die, so very many, and blood-red was the starkest, most direct emblem of that truth.

Two images unbiddenly flashed through Karen's mind: one was back at York Port, awaiting the arrival of the Divine Daughter, Saraina, as he sat in the VIP carriage, the cup in his hand shattering, its red juice spilling onto the white carpet, quickly soaking and blooming outward.

The other was standing before the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Ankara Hotel, gazing at the dark, oppressive mass of storm clouds outside, that tangible despair and suffocation which made one instinctively long to flee, a feeling so perfectly attuned to the scene before his eyes.

Karen did not believe he had foreseen all this; he merely felt that, at present, it mirrored the inner emotions he had experienced that day.

War is cruel, a maxim repeated beyond count, and Karen did not know if he would emerge from today as a pacifist advocating against war—in all likelihood, he would not—but it was even more probable that he would avoid placing himself in such perilous environments again.

Karen also wished to conjure some noble, grand, philosophical, or deeply profound realization, but sadly, there was none.

The sole and luminous lesson this excursion of battlefield observation had brought him thus far was to never observe a battlefield again.

A colossally thick beam from a magic crystal cannon plunged into the sea, likely firing in a high arc, piercing straight to the ocean floor not far ahead of Karen, where it erupted below.

Karen had yet to feel the blast itself; he only knew that when the beam of the crystal cannon swept past him, he felt like a moth held close to a bonfire.

Though untouched by the flame, the sheer heat was already enough to bake him to death.

The Armor of the Sea God began to shed rapidly, and though it still strove to regenerate with haste, the speed of its restoration fell far short of its unraveling.

At this moment, Karen was that very moth about to be scorched to demise.

He placed his hand upon the hilt of the Sword of Alius, the Dark Moon Blade reinforcing the weapon, as a beam of crimson light extended outward, driving fiercely into the sea beast beneath him.

The beast felt the agony, its potential ignited, and its swimming speed surged even higher in that instant.

"Hiss..."

A searing, burning pain caught up to Karen, but soon, the sensation began to drift away; as his consciousness hovered on the hazy border of oblivion, he bit down hard on the tip of his tongue to force himself awake.

Raising his head to look toward the battlefield, he used the sword embedded in the beast as a rudder, altering their course.

The sea beast was innocent, but it was also truly clever, understanding Karen's intent and shifting its direction of flight, steering clear of the waters where the Fleet of the Church of Reincarnation lay.

"Thump... Thump... Thump... Thump..."

Karen could perceive every beat of his own heart; had it not been for that near-miss from the crystal cannon, he should have been able to endure for a long, long time, as he felt none of the suffocating oppression of oxygen deprivation.

Yet precisely because he bore injuries, and because those injuries had directly breached the Armor of the Sea God to act upon his flesh, and Karen's physical constitution...

However, now was not the time to switch mounts; not a single moment of delay was permitted, and only by fleeing this zone at maximum speed could safety be assured.

By the time Karen looked up one last time, largely confirming they had broken free of the danger zone, his consciousness dissolved into a blur once more.

He had originally intended to use his divine robe to bind himself to the beast's cutaneous horns for security, but when he actually went to do so, he discovered that his divine robe was reduced to a few tattered shreds...

During that brush with the crystal cannon, the robe on his body had already been "melted" away; what state, then, must his own flesh be in?

Just then, a bubble escaped the sea beast's maw, and an agile figure swam forward, grasping Karen's hand, while Karen's hand instinctively locked around her wrist in return.

Very slender, very tender—it must be a girl's hand.

Eislee and Blanche could not possibly come out at this time, their physical constitutions would not allow them to be sent out now, so it had to be Philomena.

Karen relaxed completely, letting his consciousness sink into the slumber it had long been owed.

...

"Coo— Coo— Coo—"

The sound of what seemed like seabirds drifted to his ears, and Karen sensed his awareness gradually returning to his body, slowly regaining slight control over his fingers and eyelids.

But soon, he regretted it, for what followed was a violent, agonizing pain.

To use an analogy, the sensation was like having one's entire skin flayed alive, then being laid upon the white grains piled high in a salt field, slapped repeatedly on both front and back.

Yet Karen had experienced far deeper torments of the soul many times before; though the bodily pain this time was excruciating, he quickly adapted.

He opened his eyes and beheld sunlight, the sea, and a sandy beach.

A small canopy had been erected over the spot where he lay to shade him from the sun, and beneath him was a soft cushion of leaves.

"Woof! Woof!"

Kevin's bark sounded nearby, and soon, Puer's voice joined in:

"Oh, my little Karen, you're awake."

"Is everyone... here?"

"Rest assured, everyone is here, everyone is safe."

Receiving Puer's reply, Karen closed his eyes once more and drifted back to sleep.

...

The next time he woke, it was either evening or morning, for Karen could not immediately discern whether the sun on the distant horizon was rising or setting.

The pain across his body remained sharp, but with psychological preparation, it was nothing insurmountable; his strength had recovered significantly, and Karen wished to push himself up. Just as he propped his hands, a pair of arms reached out, supporting him into a sitting position.

It was Philomena.

"I am on night watch," Philomena answered. "Should I wake them?"

Karen saw Puer fast asleep and snoring on the cushion beside him, shook his head, and said, "Let them rest."

"Do you need water?" Philomena asked.

"Yes."

Philomena held a cup and began to feed Karen water.

Karen felt that, compared to Philomena, Her Highness Ophelia was the absolute pinnacle of meticulous care; at least Ophelia didn't raise the cup so high that the water submerged the drinker's nose.

Nodding to signal he had enough, Philomena withdrew the cup.

"Where are we?"

"An island, an island that does not exist on any sea chart."

"How long? Here."

"Not long, less than two days. You needn't worry; we stayed here partly because your injuries required rest, and partly to observe the situation. Your cat is very confident about guiding us out of the sea."

"Our current location isn't far from the battlefield, is it?"

"Not far; by the sailing speed of warships, one could say it is very close, but there has been no sign of any Reincarnation vessels passing by these past two days. They likely sailed straight to relieve the Wenros Archipelago immediately after that naval battle."

"I see."

Karen gave a soft murmur of assent; it appeared that he and his companions were indeed safe.

"Your injuries were severe, but you are much better now."

"Thanks to Blanche," Karen smiled.

"No, it is because your body showed not the slightest sign of infection, which gave her, as a priest, more room to work calmly. Most of her effort was spent restoring your wounds and recovering your appearance."

Infection is the greatest terror of burns; Karen's body must have been heavily burned over a large area, but because his physique had been altered by Ranedal, he could withstand far more horrifying corruptions, meaning wound infection... could only be considered the lowest grade of ailment.

Though the suffering still had to be endured, there were no lasting side effects once it passed; overall, it was worth it.

"Wait, recovering my appearance?"

Karen lowered his head, seeing a patch of tender, bloody skin where his chest was, a blood scab just beginning to form.

Philomena spoke up: "It was your cat who said there was no need to bandage your wound, otherwise tearing the gauze off later would strip away another layer of skin and cause you to endure the pain all over again."

Karen nodded; this made sense. Since there was no risk of infection and a priest was present by his side, keeping everything simple and direct was the way to go.

Still, Karen raised his hand and felt his head. He touched no hair, and moving further down to touch his forehead, he found

"I'm going outside to unleash myself, to wash away this wretched luck."

"Hmm?"

"Our current palace is situated at the highest point of the Mipers Archipelago. I want to stand up there and let it flow. It'll give me the sublime thrill of watching a sacred land flourish under my personal irrigation."

Neo picked up the pack of cigarettes Karen had left behind, pulled one out, lit it, and exhaled a ring of smoke before turning to Richard.

"If I were your father, I wouldn't be able to resist beating you either."

"You mean you think it's too vulgar?"

"No, I mean... let's go together."

The two men walked out of the room and into the palace's rear garden, which faced the open sea; in the distance, past the green belt, the silhouettes of guards and servants were still visible.

As soon as Neo stepped outside, he sensed that the surveillance array here was surprisingly still active, and from the palace roof, two distinct gazes were directed their way, proving that the Church of the Moon had clearly not given up monitoring the two wounded men left behind.

Richard was just about to reveal his piece of performance art.

Noticing Neo wasn't moving, he asked in confusion,

"Captain?"

"I need to build up to it. Go ahead and start irrigating first."

"Alright, Captain. Oh, haha, look, Captain! The fleet is returning in triumph! See, I told you, you've got to flush away the bad luck, and instantly good fortune arrives. The moment we stand up, Karen and the others happen to come right back."

Upon the horizon, the silhouette of a fleet appeared, sailing toward the main island.

Neo shielded his eyes with his palm against the interfering sunlight, carefully observing the approaching fleet, then drew a dagger from his boot and tossed it to Richard, who caught it mid-air.

"What's wrong, Captain?"

"The fleet is flying the banners of Samsara. Hurry up and sever the source of your wretched luck."

———

I'm not feeling very well today, so the writing has been a bit slow. Please read the next chapter tomorrow morning; I'm going to take it easy and write slowly.