Chapter 180: Darkmoon’s Mottled Afterglow, Behold Your True Self
I am... Pu’er’s descendant?
At once, the image of that black cat surfaced in Karon’s mind, the one that curled up and clung to his arm every morning when he scratched its belly.
When a comedian performs in front of you, your laughter is usually restrained, because you already know what’s coming. What you fear is a scene that is utterly serious, wrapped in tension, delivered with complete sincerity.
And then, suddenly, something hits you. The dam breaks. After that brief moment of shock comes an uncontrollable urge to laugh.
Karon could only cover his face with one hand, his shoulders trembling despite himself. His composure had already slipped beyond control. All he could do was try, as best he could, to keep his laughter from becoming too obvious, but because of the atmosphere, his eyes were already reddened, and tears began to fall.
He couldn’t stop. He truly couldn’t.
Yet to Ophelia, it looked like something else entirely: self-mockery within excitement, anger within release. This perfectly fit with what she believed Karon, as Poelle’s descendant, must have endured: injustice, suppression, and a life that should have been his, taken from him. He should have been the ancestor’s heir, a direct noble of Darkmoon Island, entitled to a better life and greater resources, instead of struggling upward within the Church of Order on his own.
And so, the misunderstanding took root.
Ophelia was a deeply emotional person, that much was clear from how she had reacted before Pu’er’s gravestone. But at the same time, she was highly rational, otherwise she would not have been allowed to lead Darkmoon’s delegation.
The problem was that once a rational person arrived at what they believed to be a sound conclusion, every subsequent detail would naturally be interpreted as confirmation of it. Most importantly, her reasoning did hold together. Given the available facts, eliminating the impossible, it led cleanly to a single answer.
The only thing she had failed to account for was that Karon himself was the impossible factor. Even Tiz had never fully grasped that. From beginning to end, he had only set a path for Karon and allowed him to walk it on his own. Trying to apply rational logic to something that did not follow rational rules would only produce a conclusion that seemed logical, yet was utterly absurd.
By contrast, the host of Roja City’s Roja Storytelling Program had once stumbled upon a far more fitting interpretation. That was, to look at his young master as one would look at a god.
Under that lens, everything aligned, and it even led to a path so strange that not even the house’s heretical god dog could make sense of it.
Karon was still laughing, sitting there with his face covered and his shoulders shaking. He occasionally wiped away tears with the back of his hand. Several times he tried to stop, but the moment Pu’er’s image reappeared in his mind—a cat sipping coffee with a napkin tied around her neck, begging him to cook sweet-and-sour fish—he lost control all over again.
He couldn’t stop.
He truly couldn’t.
Ophelia walked around the tea table to stand beside him, looking down at him. She placed her hands on his shoulders, then hesitated. This gesture felt inadequate, unable to convey what she wanted. She was a prodigy of Darkmoon, of noble birth, pure bloodline, exceptional talent, and a meticulous mind, but she was still young.
Geniuses learned quickly, but that did not mean they would not feel awkward or uncertain when stepping into something new. Over the past week, she had intended to open Karon up through private conversations, to build emotional groundwork so that he might reveal his secret, or confirm her suspicions. Instead, what should have been careful emotional groundwork had turned into something dull and exhausting.
She took a breath, bent down, and wrapped her arms around him.
“You’ve suffered,” she said softly. She fused together two kinds of emotion: the guilt her ancestor owed Miss Poelle, and the guilt of seeing Karon, a direct-blooded member of the Darkmoon family, forced to drift outside the island.
Ophelia felt that, as the head of the Darkmoon delegation, she should, as a matter of course, represent the Darkmoon family in expressing a certain attitude toward Miss Poelle's line.
She believed she ought to do this, and that she could do this. As for whether she would have done the same thing if it had been another person of the same identity and circumstances, she had not considered that at all.
There was another layer to it as well. Only by first handling the emotional side of things could what came next be discussed more smoothly. The Darkmoon Island mission chapel had not even been established yet, and even if it were, those Darkmoon Islanders who gained official identity as believers of the God of Order and sought to enter the Church of Order for advancement would find the road extraordinarily difficult, because the Church of Order would certainly guard against and suppress them quite deliberately. Yet here before her was someone of her own clan who had already successfully penetrated into the inner ranks of the Church of Order.
Karon finally managed to regain control over his emotions and raised a hand, trying gently to push Ophelia away.
Mm? He could not move her. When he added a bit more force, he found that she only held him tighter.
"The family will compensate you," Ophelia murmured.
"..." Karon's attempt to push her away was interpreted by her as the final trace of stubborn resentment a discarded child of the family still held toward the family, something she now needed to soften.
This scene felt strangely familiar to Karon. He suddenly remembered that in York Holiday, the film they had watched a few nights earlier, the male and female leads had done something similar. He said, "I think we can sit down now and calmly discuss a few things."
He was not used to this degree of physical contact with other women. As for Paige and Fannie, in his eyes, they no longer belonged to the conventional category of women.
"Alright." Ophelia released him. Her hands hung before her, and there was a trace of uncertainty in them.
Karon took out two tissues and wiped the corners of his eyes. He then picked up the tongs and added some ice cubes to both their cups before pouring in water.
He lifted his own cup and took a sip, feeling a slight cramp in his stomach. Drinking ice water on an empty stomach while hungry was hardly a pleasure.
Sigh. He really should have eaten something good before coming over. Or perhaps this was retribution?
If going hungry counted as retribution, then after he had recently “arranged” a man for Pu'er, and now Pu'er had suddenly become his ancestor, did that not count as another kind of retribution too?
Ophelia sat down on the opposite sofa. She reached out and touched the sword lying on the ground beside her. The sword trembled lightly. "By Darkmoon, I swear that the words I speak next will come from the heart, sincere and without falsehood."
The sword emitted a faint red glow, as though responding to Ophelia's words. This was her way of making her attitude clear to Karon, but he had once experienced something similar, namely when he had first met Earl Rekar, who had invoked his faith in the sea to require that no lies be spoken.
So was Ophelia's act something binding only upon herself, or something reciprocal, extending to Karon as well in this setting and at such close distance?
Karon pursed his lips tightly. Once he got back from this, he was going to specifically ask Pu'er and Kevin how to deal with situations like this, because life always required certain white lies.
Ophelia again spoke first, "The family will not ask you to do anything at all. Not only that, the family will also provide you with some unconditional support to help you gain better advancement within the Church of Order. Because you never lived on the island, you do not know just how strictly the major churches guard against our Darkmoon family. You may think of this as the family making an investment for the future. Of course, the level of that investment will naturally rise together with the growth of your rank and position. What I want to know now is your true rank. That will make it easier for me, upon my return, to apply to the family for more resources and support on your behalf."
Karon lifted his cup again and took another sip of water.
"Tomorrow night is the farewell banquet, and the return ship leaves port tomorrow, because the conference schedule delayed matters longer than I expected, so the return journey has become rather rushed. In other words, it would be best if we establish the verbal agreement we need today."
"I thought our squad was supposed to escort you back to Darkmoon Island?"
"Oh, I only learned today; That was indeed the original plan, but it has now been canceled."
"Canceled?"
"Yes. I had assumed it was your chur... I mean, that it was the Church of Order that canceled it. I even went to complain, to communicate my thoughts and demands, but the response I received was that the escort mission for the return journey had been canceled by your captain."
"The captain?"
"Perhaps because of what happened that night. The wounded in your squad have not recovered yet. Or perhaps your captain has some new arrangement and does not want to waste time sailing across the sea. What, you did not know?"
"I am part of the close protection detail. In normal circumstances, I don’t make contact with the squad members hidden on the perimeter."
Even when delivering food, the food was only left in some remote corner of the floor before one turned and left. Besides, Nio would discuss how to do things with the squad, but rarely what to do.
"So, I am sorry, but you will not have the chance to return to Darkmoon Island and take a look for now, though I believe you will certainly have a chance in the future. I could even go back and apply to have Miss Poelle's grave and your elders' graves moved back to Darkmoon Island."
"There is no need for that," Karon said.
"That depends on your own wishes." Ophelia smiled. "Now, please let me know your true rank. Of course, you may also continue insisting that you are merely a Divine Servant."
Karon looked at Ophelia, then glanced at the sword from the corner of his eye. The red light on the blade still had not faded. Then he ran the entire matter through his mind once more, confirmed there were no flaws, and placed his cup back on the tea table.
In the next moment, the aura of Divine Seeker spread from him.
Immediately after that came the aura of Divine Shepherd.
And finally, a faint layer of the black priestly robe of an Inquisitor of the Church of Order appeared on his body. It only halfway formed when Karon lifted his cup again and impatiently dispersed the aura around himself. "Inquisitor."
Ophelia nodded. "I understand. I am very satisfied. I believe the family will also be very satisfied."
Karon said nothing. Partly because this was not the moment to say much, and partly because in negotiations, the side that spoke less often ended up receiving more.
"Now, what needs to be discussed is the manner in which support should be provided to you. Unfortunately, the family does not have any other connections within the Church of Order. Of course, even if it did, they could not be used for you, because that would expose you instead."
"Through business with the Allen family."
"The Allen family?" The image of Karon accompanying her to Allen Manor surfaced in Ophelia's mind. "You are very familiar with Allen Manor, but the people of Allen Manor do not seem to know you."
That was because their acting was too good.
"So Miss Poelle's line of descendants never merged back into the main line of Allen Manor, is that right?"
"Yes. Because of guilt." For a very long time, Pu'er had constantly carried a sense of guilt toward her own family.
"I understand." Ophelia fell into thought, then asked, "If the Allen family is used as the connection, it really could avoid suspicion, because with that tragic love story as cover, everything can appear natural and justified. But I am very curious, can you control Allen Manor? To put it another way, can you steadily obtain benefits from Allen Manor?"
"Yes."
"Can you tell me the source of that confidence?"
"My girlfriend is the daughter of the Allen family’s current patriarch."
"..."
Silence briefly fell over the tea table. Ophelia was digesting the news. She would not think there was anything strange about Miss Poelle's descendants getting together with a young woman surnamed Allen. In the current era, even cousins often ended up together, and on Karon's side, multiple generations had already passed. At most, they merely shared the same surname.
What she was really curious about was something else.
"Why?" Ophelia asked.
"This was the will of my ancestor. I obeyed the arrangement my ancestor left behind before entering a long sleep."
"So your line has always been protecting Allen Manor from the shadows?"
"Yes, that’s right. I have always done so, and it is also what Poelle wants, like a whisper in my ear each time I wake in the morning."
An Inquisitor, Allen Manor...
Though Allen Manor had fallen into decline, it could still serve as an extremely precious outer-world framework for Darkmoon Island. It would be much more useful than building up an entirely new force from scratch.
Most importantly, the Allen family had a faith system of their own, and their present decline made it a perfect opportunity for a branch line of the family to take command. With proper resources, the chances of the family rising again would be considerable.
"Alright, we have finished discussing the serious matters. Once I return, I will immediately report this and apply for resources to support you, and will use Allen Manor as the fastest route to provide that support."
"Thank you."
"May I ask a few more personal questions?"
"You may." Karon added more ice cubes to his cup, and from the corner of his eye he saw that the sword was still glowing faintly red.
"Do you hate Darkmoon?"
When he heard that question, Karon instinctively looked at Ophelia and said, "Do you want the truth?"
"Of course. This is meant to be a candid conversation."
"I don’t hate it."
"You do not hate it..."
"Not only do I not hate it, I even have a certain fondness for it."
That fondness came from Ophelia, who was so completely serious about believing him to be one of her own, and from the precious food she had given him. Most importantly, who would feel aversion toward the person funding them?
"One final question."
"Go ahead."
"Karon, in your heart, is the God of Order the only one?"
Karon grinned. There was not a trace of burden in answering this question, because in the Immers household, greeting the great God of Order was practically a daily family leisure activity.
"No."
Ophelia nodded and said, "That was a very pleasant conversation, was it not?"
Karon stood up, preparing to leave, but then paused. There was no reason why only she should be allowed to use truth-testing on him.
"Miss Ophelia, will you enter a marriage alliance with Mr. Leon?"
"Because of your appearance, the necessity of that alliance has lessened," Ophelia answered.
"Because I am already someone worth investing in?"
"Of course."
"Then, Miss Ophelia, do you have someone you like?"
"Hehe, no."
The red glow of the sword instantly became chaotic.
"..."
“Miss, please get some rest.” Karon gave Ophelia a slight bow, then turned and left the room.
Ophelia lifted the longsword, frowning slightly. “Do I... have someone I like?”
She tapped the blade lightly. “Has the Art gone unstable?”
Then she said to it, “I don’t have someone I like.”
The red glow on the sword grew more erratic. Ophelia pressed a hand to her forehead. “This is bad. The sword’s turned defective.”
***
Back in the room, Karon asked, “Is there anything to eat?”
Fannie smirked. “Miss Ophelia didn’t feed you enough?”
Then she walked over to Paige, who was already lying on the bed preparing to sleep, and gave her a light slap on the hip. “Come on, Paige. Feed him.”
“I’m actually hungry. There wasn’t any food there,” Karon said.
“Oh, good thing I set some aside for supper. I’ll get it for you.” Fannie took food out of the fridge. Karon sat on the sofa and began eating with a fork.
Paige, lying on her side, looked at the two of them. “Oh, right. The captain just sent word. We won’t be escorting Miss Ophelia back to Darkmoon Island.”
“Why not?” Karon asked.
“No idea. He didn’t say.”
Fannie smiled. “What’s there to guess? Hunting hounds don’t give up a bone they can gnaw on unless there’s meat right in front of them.”
Paige nodded. “That makes sense. By tradition, we always have a gathering after a mission. I think the captain will announce the next plan then.”
Fannie added, “I’m only worried about one thing.”
Paige glanced at her. “What?”
“I wonder if our Miss Ophelia managed to get pregnant.”
***
The next evening, the banquet was held. It was held both to celebrate the successful conclusion of the negotiations between the Church of Order and Darkmoon Island, and also to send off the Darkmoon delegation.
Karon was clearly more experienced this time. He could already pick out the tender neck cuts of roasted drake, and even carried over an entire plate to share with Paige and Fannie.
During the banquet, Mr. Leon appeared again and invited Ophelia to dance. She declined. Mr. Leon remained perfectly gentlemanly, showing no displeasure, and instead sat beside her, chatting for quite some time.
After the banquet ended, Nio’s squad escorted Ophelia to the dock. The rest of the delegation had already boarded and were waiting.
“We’ve arrived, Miss,” Fannie said. “Wishing you a safe journey.”
Ophelia took out a gift box and handed it to Fannie, who accepted it. “Thank you for your care and protection during this time. Please accept this as a small token.”
Fannie tapped the underside of the box lightly with her fingertip. Her instincts, honed from handling firearms, told her immediately that it contained close to thirty thousand credits. Split among everyone in the squad, it wasn’t a large amount, but as a gift, it was undeniably generous.
Karon opened the car door and, following proper etiquette, offered the back of his hand as Ophelia stepped out. Panmir and the maid followed.
When Fannie got out from the back, she noticed the sword beneath the seat had not been taken, but she said nothing.
As Paige shut off the engine, she leaned back slightly, sensing through the vibration that something heavy remained in the car that shouldn’t be there. As she stepped out, she glanced toward the back seat and saw the sword. She pretended not to notice.
Karon, Paige, and Fannie stood with their hands placed before them. Last time, Fannie had stood at the front. This time, both Fannie and Paige stood behind Karon. He noticed that as well, but stepping back at this point would have felt deliberate.
Ophelia did not board immediately, but walked up to Karon. “I’m leaving.”
“Travel safely.”
She shook her head and glanced up at the moon. “Nothing else you want to say?”
“What else should I say?”
“Something that matches what you said when we first met. That way, this trip to Veyn will feel complete, without regret.”
“Do I have to?”
“Of course. I want to hear it.”
“But I don’t really feel like saying it.”
Ophelia leaned slightly closer and lowered her voice. “Then I might remember that I left my Aelius Sword in your car.”
Karon cleared his throat.
Ophelia stepped back half a step, straightened her clothes, and composed herself elegantly. “I’m ready.”
Karon spoke, “The crimson rim outlines the steps of your arrival and shall also bear the sails of your departure.”
Ophelia nodded, a faint smile forming.
“It is the mottled afterglow beneath the Darkmoon that has allowed me to behold your true self.”
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