For a moment, Roselle's heart melted. He pulled his daughter into a tight embrace, seized by a sudden urge to cancel the voyage altogether.
But in the end, he forced the impulse down. Taking a deep breath, he hooked his finger gently around his daughter's small, delicate one.
"Pinky promise."
Half an hour later, after finishing her bedtime story and coaxing Bernadette to sleep, Roselle crept quietly out of her room. The moment he opened the door, he saw Matilda waiting in the hall.
"You haven't gone to bed?" he asked softly.
Matilda shook her head.
Roselle carefully closed the door and took her hand, leading her a little farther away. "Do you blame me, Matilda?"
"For what?" A trace of puzzlement flickered in her eyes.
"For being so reckless—running off to sea with some half-baked excuse, leaving you and our daughter here alone."
She thought for a moment, then replied gently, "You've always been like this."
Roselle patted his own forehead and let out a self-mocking laugh. "Yes…I've always been unreliable."
"No." Matilda tilted her head up, her gaze steady. "What I mean is—this is who you are."
"…" Roselle froze.
After a long silence, he reached out and stroked her cheek. "I'm going to the church."
"Mhm~"
———
Back in his bedroom, Edward immediately heard Bernadette's soft prayer. The moment he linked into the grey fog, her clear little voice rang in his ears:
"Mr. Sparrow, can you think of a way to stop Daddy from going to sea?"
"…Huh? Why?"
"Because…I can't bear to part with him!"
"…"
"Please, Mr. Sparrow~~ Mama can't bear it either. I…I saw her crying in secret."
"…"
"I know we aren't really related, and you have no obligation to always help me. But I swear—when I grow up, I'll repay you! Please?"
Edward hesitated for a long moment. "…I don't think that's a good idea."
———
The next morning.
Edward arrived at Roselle's house with Dubois. From a distance, they could already see servants loading trunks onto carriages.
Roselle's four "horsemen" were on-site, directing the work.
Around eight o'clock, Roselle emerged at last, dressed sharply in a fitted trench coat, with his wife and daughter by his side.
Edward stepped forward. "Morning, Roselle."
"Morning, Klein." Roselle greeted him warmly before continuing, "I went to the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery last night. You know, when it comes to valuable artifacts, no one has more than the church."
Edward's heart skipped. Was it possible—such luck? To find it in one try?
"But…" Roselle arched a brow. "That particular Sealed Artifact—one said to know all kinds of things—vanished not long ago."
"What? Vanished?!" Edward was jolted, almost certain he'd misheard.
Arrodes is…missing?
Impossible!
Although people often joked that among the Seven Gods, the God of Steam was the weakest, and that His Church was also somewhat inferior in power, it was never to the point where someone could casually sneak in and steal a sealed artifact from the Church, right?
If you said they stole it while the Mechanical Hivemind was using it, that would be understandable. But going deep into the Church to steal it…?
Don't be fooled by how Ince Zangwill later seemed to casually steal 0-08, the Quill of Alzuhod—that had clearly been a backroom deal between the Evernight Goddess and Russian Priest.
If Arrodes had gone missing long ago…then what on earth have I been working so hard for all this time?
Wait!
No—that didn't make sense. I clearly divined before that Arrodes was right there in the Trier Cathedral.
"Who would dare steal from the church?" Edward muttered.
The question made Roselle fall silent—
It was me!
These past weeks, he had already "stolen" twice.
True, both times he had relied on tricks and roundabout means…but in essence, he had still stolen.
All thanks to that damned evil god!
Roselle cleared his throat. "The archbishop said…they still can't confirm how exactly the Sealed Artifact went missing. It's possible it wasn't stolen at all—just…misplaced for the time being."
Uh.
Would the church really be that careless?
"The main issue is that the Sealed Artifact's negative effects were…extremely severe. It hasn't been used for a long time."
Edward frowned. "Negative effects?"
"The archbishop didn't go into detail."
Roselle patted his shoulder. "But don't be discouraged, Klein. I've already asked the archbishop to help search for it. By the time I return from this voyage, perhaps there will be good news."
"Ah…thank you, Roselle."
"Hahaha. Come on, then. Let me show you my 'vessel' for this journey!"
———
The group soon arrived at Trier's harbour—a great inland river that connected directly to the sea. All ships bound in or out of Trier had to pass this way; it was the lifeline of Intis's foreign trade.
Moored at the dock was a massive ship. Crew and sailors bustled back and forth, loading supplies in an unbroken stream.
This was still the age before ironclad steamships, but traditional sailing vessels were already being fitted with steam turbines as auxiliary power.
Many nobles who had long heard of Roselle's impending expedition had gathered at the harbour, eager to offer their farewells to the famed Son of Steam.
"Dubois! Do you see? The boast I made years ago—today it will be fulfilled. I'll sail this vessel to the Aurak Archipelago, then trade it for an ancient ghost ship—the Black King. Heh. That ship will be my true confidence in braving the seas." Roselle lifted his chin proudly.
Dubois gazed up at the ship. For once, he didn't sneer or mutter something sardonic. Instead, just as he had on that dinner night, he simply said, "Fair winds and smooth sailing."
"…"
Roselle felt oddly unsatisfied by the lack of sarcasm. So he added, "Or better yet—come with me. Do you remember when I told you the world is a sphere? That if you sail in one direction long enough, you'll return from the other side? You dismissed it as nonsense. Well, I'll take you to witness it with your own eyes."
Then, glancing at Edward, he asked, "Klein, do you believe me?"
"…No."
"Hahaha! Then wait for the great Roselle–Columbus–Magellan–Gustav to return in triumph!"
——
An hour later, everything was ready.
Standing tall on the deck, Roselle waved grandly to the crowd onshore, his spirit ablaze.
"Farewell, everyone!"
The hull rumbled as the great ship pulled away from the dock.
Suddenly, the clear sky turned black. Clouds boiled above, winds howled, and lightning flashed in tangled arcs.
In an instant, the Trier River surged with towering waves, tossing ships large and small like children's toys. Roselle, who moments before had been brimming with pride, now clung pale-faced to the railing, struggling not to be flung into the water.
The crowd erupted in confusion. Only Bernadette's eyes lit up, brimming with a strange delight as she turned to look at Edward.
Edward pressed a finger to his lips, winking.
So it really was him!
Of course, Edward hadn't acted out of last night's plea from Bernadette. But if Arrodes was merely "misplaced" for now, then keeping Roselle stuck in Trier for another day…
Two days…
Three days…
...
On the fourth day.
Roselle once again stood at the prow, declaring his voyage. But this time, the excitement and bravado of the first day were gone. The crowd had dwindled to barely a tenth of its original size.
Four times they had gathered to see him off. Four times storms had struck. Sometimes before he even left the dock, sometimes the moment he entered open water. It was as if the heavens themselves opposed him.
Many sailors had been frightened off. Rumours spread that Roselle had been cursed by the sea. One after another, men resigned.
Furious, Roselle had roared, "Cursed by the sea?! Damn it, I haven't even reached the sea yet! How can I be cursed by something I haven't set eyes on?!"
So on the fourth day, he summoned the archbishop of the Church of Steam and Machinery himself to stand as witness and bolster morale.
Of course, even if the archbishop hadn't come, Edward had already decided not to interfere again.
His divinations in the Sefirah Castle had confirmed Arrodes was still within the cathedral. After three days of fruitless searching, the only explanation left—aside from the faintest of possibilities—was that someone had deliberately withheld Arrodes from Roselle.
But why?
Arrodes was merely a Grade 2 Sealed Artifact. For Roselle, the Son of Steam, the church had no reason to be so secretive.
Could it be intentional—just to spite me?
That made no sense.
—
"Farewell, everyone!"
Roselle waved again, this time with little confidence. Onshore, Bernadette and the others waved back half-heartedly, resigned to the storm they assumed would follow.
But this time…
Nothing happened.
The ship slipped free of the dock, turned into the main channel, and surged southward with the current. Before long, it vanished from view.
Only then did the crowd stir in realisation.
Roselle had…truly departed?
They would no longer need to gather day after day to bid farewell?
Bernadette stood frozen, staring blankly at the distant waters. For a moment, she forgot to be sad—or perhaps she simply didn't know whether she should be. Part of her still expected a sudden storm to drive him back again.
But when she met Mr. Sparrow's gaze, she finally understood.
Her father had truly left.
"Waaah!!!"
The little girl burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Daddy!!!"
She cried from the harbour all the way home.
Matilda had spent the whole way trying to comfort her. But whatever Bernadette whispered midway, it made Matilda break down as well, and soon mother and daughter wept together.
———
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