Volume 2 Chapter 60: Choice
After the Church of the Deep Bishop Quintus died, the Seaborn obeyed Ishar'mla's orders and retreated along the river back to the ocean. The remaining Church of the Deep cultists, having nowhere else to go, could only follow the Seaborn and leave.
However, not all the Seaborn retreated immediately.
"You said you can't hear their voice anymore. Did something happen to them?"
"Was it only a fragment of their consciousness that came ashore?"
"Do you know why they wanted to come ashore?"
In a corner of the small town, seated atop a high platform, a woman wearing a black formal hat and dressed elegantly gently stroked the tall creature standing beside her.
She watched the Church of the Deep cultists' defeat with indifference.
Even when a figure carrying a hand lantern and wielding a hand cannon appeared behind her, she continued speaking softly to the whimpering creature beside her.
"You don't know either?"
She sighed and turned to face Dario behind her.
"Your Excellency the Inquisitor, I don't wish to fight you here. I'm different from Quintus—combat is not my strength."
"You think you can still escape?"
Dario held a lantern emitting cherry blossom-colored flames, his expression grim.
"From the moment you colluded with the Seaborn, you violated Iberian law. As an Inquisitor of Iberia, I have the authority to arrest and detain you."
"But this isn't Iberia."
Next to the Liberi woman, the tall Seaborn—resembling a wild hound but with many extra tendrils—let out a threatening hiss at Dario.
It clearly disliked the lantern in Dario's hand, whether it was the light or the flames, it wanted no part of it.
"Let's go."
The Liberi woman patted the Seaborn beneath her.
"We'll have another chance to see them."
They followed the Seaborn, revered them, and saw them as the ultimate direction of their survival and evolution.
So, what could be more anticipated than encountering the Seaborn's god, even if it was only a fragment of their will?
But Amaia knew that if she stayed any longer, the Inquisitor's cannon fire would tear her apart before she ever got the chance to meet Ishar'mla.
It was time to make a choice.
"You want to run?"
Without hesitation, Dario raised his hand cannon.
The Iberian hand cannons were actually designed based on the guns of Laterano's angels; after all, historically, the two nations had shared a long period of close relations.
The so-called "guns," or "firearms," were weapons that used internal magic compression to launch projectiles at distant targets.
The hand cannon's tremendous power came from its special Originium ignition mechanism, which, when paired with specially crafted etched ammunition, could maximize explosive force.
Unfortunately, while the hand cannon was powerful, its destruction was not very concentrated.
BOOM——!!
A deafening explosion rang out atop the high platform in the town's corner.
When the smoke cleared, Dario holstered his hand cannon and saw only a bloodstain left on the ground.
Both Amaia and the tall Seaborn had vanished without a trace.
After a moment of silence, and without much hesitation, Dario jumped off the platform, following the trail marked by his disciple, Irene, and found a small inn.
Inside the inn, Irene had been tied up, her weapons removed. Gard was grilling a hard-to-find package of sausages.
A little white-haired Seaborn girl, so hungry she had started gnawing on the table legs, sat nearby.
"Eat, eat, eat—that's all you know how to do," Gard scolded mercilessly.
Ishar'mla, holding the little Seaborn, stroked her head and explained:
"She's still young. She needs to eat a lot to grow up."
Grow up for what? To eat even more?
Still, two Seaborn weren't too much for him to support.
The smell of grilled sausage wafted through the air, making Irene's stomach growl uncontrollably.
She had been traveling nonstop for days, eating little and sleeping rough. From morning until now, she hadn't had a bite to eat.
Now, even though her mouth stayed silent, her body betrayed her at the scent of food.
"Miss Irene, would you like something to eat?"
"I would never eat food from a traitor like you!"
Irene responded stiffly.
In her eyes, what was the difference between Garde, who fraternized with Seaborn, and a common collaborator?
None of this made any sense to her. Was it really possible for someone to mate with Seaborn just because they looked pretty?
They weren't even the same species!
If it were someone who simply couldn't find a human girlfriend, that might be barely understandable.
But the Adakrys man in front of her didn't even look bad—so why would he do something so absurd?
Turning it over in her mind, Irene could only come to one conclusion: "human traitor."
If Garde wasn't a collaborator, why else would he do something so horrifying?
"You won't eat? Then I'll just have to feed you myself."
Garde picked up a sausage, carefully letting it cool down before approaching Irene.
"Look at this sausage—big and thick. I'm sure it's delicious. You really don't want to try it? You must be hungry by now, right?"
Irene stared at the sausage in Garde's hand, swallowed hard, but turned her head stubbornly.
"Get that thing away from me! I'd rather die than eat your sausage!"
"But we Adakrys," Garde said, gripping her chin and slowly moving the sausage toward her, "love saying no to people who think they can resist us."
"No!"
Irene panicked, struggling and shouting.
"Stay away from me!"
Outside the room at the inn, unable to see exactly what was happening inside, Dario paused, hesitating for a moment.
But the next second, he couldn't hold back anymore.
Bang!
He kicked the door open, sword in one hand, hand cannon in the other, and charged into the room where Garde and the others were.
"Irene!"
However, when he burst into the room and saw the scene before him, Dario fell silent.
Though Irene was tied up, teary-eyed, the thing stuffed into her mouth... was just an ordinary grilled sausage, the kind found in every household in Minos.
"Irene?"
Still holding his sword and cannon at the ready, Dario furrowed his brows and turned to Garde.
"Sir Garde, I'm going to need an explanation."
"Ah," Garde replied casually, "your disciple tried to put a hole in my head with her hand cannon, so I had no choice but to tie her up."
"There must be some misunderstanding... Irene isn't usually so reckless..."
Dario tried to defend Irene, but he trailed off when he noticed Ishar'mla, sitting in the corner holding the little Seaborn, looking up at him.
The Seaborn... had woken up?
Instinctively, Dario lifted the barrel of his cannon again—but the next second, Garde's towering figure stepped in front of him, placing a hand over the muzzle.
"Mr. Dario, this is an inn, after all. I suggest you calm down a bit."
The sheer force coming from Garde's arm made Dario's expression turn serious.
He clearly saw it—the barrel of his hand cannon, forged with the best materials to withstand powerful etched ammunition, was actually bending slightly under Garde's grip.
After a brief silence, Dario said, "I want you to release my disciple first."
"Of course."
Garde shrugged and glanced behind him.
"Sideroca, untie Irene."
"Right away."
Though Sideroca didn't want conflict between Garde and Irene, if it came to it, he would side with Garde without question.
Although Irene and Sideroca had only met by chance, Garde was not only Sideroca's half-savior but also her current employer.
Emotionally and logically, she had no reason to side with Irene.
Even so, she was still quite curious — why had Irene's attitude changed so drastically after learning about what had happened between Garde and the woman named Ishar'mla?
Once untied, Irene immediately hid behind her teacher, glaring at Garde with furious eyes.
The sausage was delicious, sure, but she absolutely did not want to eat it under those circumstances!
Still thinking bitterly about it, Irene swallowed the remaining half of the sausage in her mouth — food shouldn't be wasted, after all.
"Mr. Dario, have a seat,"
Garde said casually, without caring whether Dario accepted or not, as he himself flopped down into a chair.
"Well, where should I start...? I guess I should go back to when I was still in Sargon. The Acahualla region in Sargon is close to the ocean—"
. . . . . .
Dario listened carefully to Garde's explanation, his brows furrowing deeply.
"So, what you're saying is: the reason Seaborn showed up here is because a researcher at the company you're working for — Rhine Lab — secretly took part of a Seaborn's body, and ended up cultivating that Seaborn into a creature shaped like a human girl."
"And then, that red-dressed Seaborn came looking for you, and your purpose here is to deal with the mess created by that researcher?"
"That's basically it."
Garde spread his hands, giving a simplified account of the little Seaborn's origin, leaving out his conflicts back in the hotlands.
But no sooner had he finished speaking than Irene couldn't hold back anymore and shouted,
"You're lying!"
If Garde were really just a company executive cleaning up a research accident, then why had he been... doing that with the Seaborn…
Just thinking about saying the words made Irene's face burn bright red.
Seeing Irene's expression, Dario immediately understood: Garde might not have lied, but he had definitely concealed something important.
"I'll leave your true identity aside for now," after a moment of thought, Dario looked at Garde seriously,
"I just want to know: what do you intend to do with these two Seaborn? Kill them? Or spare them?"
"What if I say I plan to spare them?"
"Then from this moment onward, we are enemies."
Dario didn't hesitate for a second.
If necessary, he would do everything in his power to destroy the enemy in front of him — even at the cost of his own life.
"You're a real pain in the ass,"
Garde muttered, scratching his crocodilian head.
"But I'm not planning to either kill them or spare them completely — because I don't want the 'Profound Silence' to come early."
"What do they have to do with the Profound Silence?" Dario demanded.
"Because she," Garde said seriously, pointing at the little Seaborn, "is the Seaborn's god — or rather, a fragment of the collective will of all Seaborn. Killing her would mean provoking all the Seaborn."
"And the current Iberia," he added, "probably can't withstand a full-scale invasion by Seaborn."
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