Just as Leonard was lost in thought, Pallez suddenly spoke lightly in his mind, "No need to follow anymore. That person has disappeared."
"Disappeared?!"
Leonard's expression changed. He quickened his pace and ran forward, only to find that the figure was indeed gone without a trace.
"Did you notice how he left?"
"Roughly."
Pallez replied, "It wasn't teleportation, nor was it Spirit World traversal. It was a special method…one you've actually seen someone use right before your eyes."
"Who?"
"Edward."
Leonard's eyes instantly burned with excitement. "So that person really was connected to Edward! I finally caught hold of his trail!"
Pallez poured a bucket of cold water over him: "You only found someone related to him. Don't act as if your great vengeance has been avenged. And besides, have you considered— even if you do find him, are you his match?"
"… I'm preparing to advance to Soul Assurer next week."
"Not enough."
"Then I'll keep advancing, all the way up."
"Heh. You may be foolish, but your persistence and courage are commendable."
"Old man, if you don't feel like giving a compliment, then don't force it."
"Hahahahaha!"
———
Elsewhere, at the Harvest Church.
As soon as Danitz stepped into the chapel, he let out a long breath of relief.
Emlyn, who was polishing a candlestick, curled his lips and sneered, "Well, well, you're still here?"
"I'm waiting for news from the Captain. She's coming back from Lenburg this time, and she'll be passing through Backlund's port."
Danitz slumped into a seat with a gloomy face. "Backlund is just way too unfriendly to me. I was just drinking at a tavern, didn't provoke anyone, but the moment I stepped outside, someone started tailing me.
"If not for the stone—portkey—Gehrman gave me, I probably wouldn't have made it back."
"Oh, what a pity that would have been."
"You son of a—"
Before Danitz could finish, Emlyn suddenly leaned closer. After glancing at Father Utravsky, who was bowing his head in prayer at the altar, Emlyn lowered his voice, "Danitz, do you know how to make a large sum of money in the shortest time?"
"Oh?"
Danitz crossed his arms and leaned back. "Now that's my area of expertise. I've earned enough over the years to buy quite a few properties. How much do you need?"
"Five thousand…no, eight thousand pounds!"
"???"
Danitz almost fell off his chair. He dug at his ears and stared blankly. "Eight thousand pounds? Emlyn, do you even know what that amount means?"
"Of course. That's only the price of two or three premium dolls."
"…"
A gleam flashed in Danitz's eyes. "Those things of yours are worth that much?"
Emlyn immediately shot him a vigilant glare. "I'm warning you—if you even think of coveting my treasures, this time I'll really fight you to the death! Even Father Utravsky won't be able to stop me!"
"I was just curious. Purely surprised, nothing more."
Danitz lowered his head, pondering. "Hmm…with your Apothecary skills, making money shouldn't be too hard. Just attend a few more Beyonder gatherings."
"I did, but the demand was too small."
"Then look for the gatherings with larger demand."
"Where would those be?"
Danitz spread his arms wide. "Out at sea, of course! So many pirates, so many Beyonders—are you afraid no one will buy your potions? How about this—come with me this time. Stick with me, and if I get meat, you'll at least have soup!"
Emlyn sneered. "So I'm only worthy of soup, is that it?"
Danitz shrugged. "I've given you the suggestion. Whether you take it or not, that's your choice."
"I'll…think about it."
Getting a shut-in to leave home wasn't something that could be done with a few words—especially when said shut-in also got seasick.
———
Past, Year 1160.
Trier, in the luxurious Roselle family villa.
Bernadette was seated on a swing, holding a pen and scribbling in her notebook. On the page were sketches drawn from memory—everything she had witnessed that "night" aboard the pirate ship.
The prince on a white horse was the helmsman, Cinderella held the flag, the seven dwarves served as sailors, and Pinocchio manned the cannons…At first glance, it looked like a complete mess. In truth, it was a mess. But that didn't diminish the magical experience she'd had.
Little Bernadette had never received systematic training in art, yet she still managed to capture the essence of each character. Anyone familiar with them would recognise them at a glance.
"And finally…"
Bernadette drew a cartoonish castle on the sail of the pirate ship and, beneath it, wrote in tiny Intis letters: Fairy Tale.
"Done!"
She was quite satisfied with her masterpiece. Hugging her knees on the swing, she giggled at the drawing. "I'll make another one later, so both Papa and Mr. Sparrow can each have a copy as a gift."
"What gift? For whom?"
Her father's voice suddenly drifted over. Dressed in loose home clothes, Roselle strolled in holding several newly carved dolls.
"For Daddy, of course!"
Bernadette held the drawing out to him. "Daddy, can you recognise everyone in the picture?"
"Oh~"
Roselle took the sketch, his expression turning comically exaggerated. "The crew of your ship is…quite the mix. Snow White and the Evil Queen handling logistics? Are you sure that won't end in disaster?"
"…"
"Pinocchio as the cannoneer? What's he going to do—fire shots with his growing nose whenever he lies?"
"…"
"And why is the Prince on his white horse still riding it aboard ship? Won't he get seasick? Won't the horse?"
"…"
Bernadette went silent for several seconds, then reached out to snatch the drawing back. "If you don't want it, fine. I'll give it to someone else!"
Roselle laughed heartily and pulled it out of her reach. "Of course I want it!"
He sat down on the swing beside her and wrapped her in his arms. "This is my little treasure's first work of art. A priceless treasure! I'll cherish it for life."
"But Papa is curious—why did you put all these fairy-tale characters on a ship?"
She didn't lie. "Because I saw it with my own eyes." Proudly kicking her legs, she announced, "It was a pirate ship made up of fairy-tale characters. And I, the great Pirate Bernadette, was its captain!"
"Amazing!"
Roselle gave her an exaggerated thumbs-up, not doubting for a moment that it was merely a child's dream or innocent fantasy.
"These past few days, has Uncle Grimm spoken to you alone?"
Bernadette knew her father was really asking about Mr. Sparrow. After Mr. Sparrow's selfless rescue of her just days before, she felt there was no longer a need to hide the truth from her father. But whenever she tried to say it, a thought would surface in her mind—we agreed to keep it secret—and the words stuck in her throat.
"Nope~"
Roselle didn't press further. He stood up, scooped her into his arms, and said cheerfully, "Come on, time for dinner~"
———
Midnight.
The sky was thick with clouds, the crimson moonlight failing to bathe the ground as it usually did, leaving the night gloomier than usual—though to Roselle in his study, it felt oddly nostalgic.
"This…this is how nights should be back home."
He set a large chest onto his desk. Inside were neatly arranged mechanical tools, a "Artisan's kit" obtained from the Church for constructing mechanical marvels and low-grade mystical items—props for playing the role of and digesting the Artisan potion.
"Yawn~"
He tilted his head back and yawned. Feeling drowsy, he drained a cup of cool water, rubbed his cheeks hard, and muttered, "No! Roselle, Roselle, why are you working so hard lately? You're becoming unrecognisable."
Taking a deep breath, he declared, "Tomorrow! Tomorrow I'll go to the banquet! After a few days away, the ladies must be missing me terribly—especially that charming one…Uh…was it Lady Scarlett, Lady MacGuffin…or someone else?"
"Weee-woo, Weee-woo, Weee-woo."
Just then, a shrill siren pierced the night.
Roselle frowned. "Who the hell is making that racket outside my house at this hour—wait, this sound…"
This wasn't just any alarm—this was the wail of police sirens from his previous world!
He rubbed his ears furiously, certain he hadn't misheard, and leapt up in panic, rushing to the door.
The moment he opened it, a familiar red-and-blue light flashed across his eyes. Hovering in midair outside was a silver-white craft shaped like a flying saucer, its lights and sirens blaring from its underside.
"This…this is a UFO?"
Hadn't he crossed into the Beyonder world? Since when did UFOs show up?!
As he doubted his sanity, the saucer beamed down a golden light column. A few seconds later, a figure stepped out—clad in silver-white, futuristic armour, visor down, a high-tech rifle in one hand, and in the other…a photograph of Roselle.
The figure's visor clicked open, revealing a young face—Edward's original visage.
"Huang Tao-Roselle·Gustav," he declared. "I am Officer Edward of the Temporal Enforcement Division, badge number 1386. You are hereby under arrest for 1,256 counts of illegal time travel, unlawful interference with world development, and unauthorised temporal residency."
"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used as evidence in court!"
Roselle: "???"
What the hell?!
As Edward strode closer, Roselle instinctively backed away. "What are you talking about? There must be some misunderstanding!"
"Huang Tao-Roselle Gustav, are you resisting arrest? If you resist, I have the authority to execute you on the spot. First warning."
Like hell there's any difference between resisting and not!
Roselle didn't hesitate. He immediately infused his accessories with spirituality—gifts from a high-ranking bishop, capable of withstanding a demigod's attacks for a short time.
But nothing happened. His accessories were utterly inert, as though stripped of power.
"Second warning."
Suddenly, his clothes writhed and morphed into ropes, binding him tightly before slamming him to the ground.
"Wait, wait! Misunderstanding, it's all a misunderstanding!" he shouted.
The "time police" ignored him, hoisting him up with one hand and dragging him toward the saucer's light beam.
"By the authority vested in Officer 1386, you are now formally under arrest. For 1,256 counts of illegal time travel, unlawful interference with world development, and unauthorised temporal residency, you are hereby sentenced to thirteen thousand, two hundred years in prison."
"I won't even live that long!"
"Rest assured, we have methods to ensure you live out your entire sentence."
How the hell is that supposed to be reassuring?!
———
[Note]: Don't forget to VOTE. It keeps me motivated.