The mother and daughter clung to each other, crying in each other's arms.
Edward kept shooting Dubois meaningful looks. Dubois quickly shook his head. "Boss, when it comes to children, I really don't have a single trick."
"What about Matilda, then?"
"…You know what sort of 'methods' I use with women. I may despise that bastard Roselle, but in a case like this…"
"Alright, shut your mouth."
Edward sighed and walked over.
"Matilda, may I have a few words with Bernadette?"
"Of course you may."
Matilda rubbed her reddened eyes, forced a small smile, and walked back into the villa.
Edward crouched before Bernadette and gently wiped her tears. "How long are you planning to cry?"
"Until Daddy comes back!"
"Then you'll be crying a long time. Conservatively, Roselle's trip will take at least a month. Do you really have that many tears?"
She sniffled, her lips trembling. "Then I'll just drink more water!"
"Alright, alright. Did you forget?" Edward tapped her nose with a smile. "I can go wherever I want, whenever I want."
"Eh?"
Bernadette's eyes flew wide open. Right! If Mr. Sparrow could take me out to sea to see mermaids, then of course he could take me to see Daddy too!
How could I forget something so important?!
Edward chuckled. "So if you really miss your father, instead of sitting here crying, wouldn't it be better to think of ways to please me—so I'll take you to see him?"
She grabbed his arm tightly. "Really?"
"That depends on how you behave."
Edward stood up. "Now go back inside. Your mother is already upset enough. She shouldn't also have to console you."
"…I know!"
The little girl bolted back into the villa. Edward exhaled in relief and turned back.
Dubois asked curiously, "Boss, what did you just say to her?"
"Just words to comfort a child. You really want to hear those too?"
"Uh…"
Scratching his head, Dubois muttered, "Now I really do believe you have a daughter."
———
Back at 28 Emerald Street, Edward had just stepped down from the carriage when he noticed several houses away—seven or eight villas down the street—a line of carriages stood parked at the gates. Servants were unloading furniture, ornaments, and boxes, carrying them into the house.
Edward raised a brow. "New tenants moving in? I thought noble residences were notoriously difficult to rent out?"
Dubois shrugged. "That I don't know. But most nobles care fiercely about face. Unless they're absolutely desperate, they would never rent or sell an ancestral home. You know the special circumstances of our villa—Madame Marcia didn't have those scruples."
Just then, a woman stepped down from one of the carriages. She wore a long black gown, and as if sensing their gazes, she turned her head, offering a polite nod and smile. She wasn't stunning in appearance, but her poise and bearing were exceptional.
After the brief greeting, she followed her maid into the villa.
"Eh? Boss, is she your type?"
Seeing Edward glance a few more times than usual, Dubois looked as though he had discovered a new continent.
It was no wonder—since meeting him, Dubois had never seen Edward show the slightest interest in any woman. Even Akasha, whose looks and figure were impeccable, had elicited nothing. If he hadn't recently learned Edward had a daughter, Dubois might have started questioning his orientation.
Edward shook his head. "No."
But ever since discovering Marcia was nothing more than a disguise created by a witch with the help of a mystical artifact, Edward couldn't help but harbour suspicion toward any woman of "ordinary" looks who nevertheless seemed noteworthy.
Who could say? Perhaps another witch was hiding behind that face.
Everyone knew—wherever witches went, trouble followed.
Cough, cough, except for Lilith, of course.
——
Meanwhile, inside the villa.
The woman in the black dress gave a few instructions to her maid, then proceeded directly upstairs to a bedroom.
She entered the washroom and, facing the mirror, whispered, "Why hasn't Marcia responded yet?"
A few seconds later, a vague human figure appeared in the reflection.
"Don't be impatient."
The woman brushed her dark hair aside with a fingertip. "Understood~."
"Settle down here for now."
"I know."
Then the blurry figure asked, "Arrodes, do you know where the rest of Intis's brass pillars are hidden?"
The mirror shimmered with light. Rippling water-like waves gathered into seven visions:
A knightly-clad man burying one brass staff after another—sometimes covering them with soil, sometimes resetting floorboards with mechanisms, sometimes concealing them with Sealed Artifacts.
Each scene then panned upward, displaying the distinctive surroundings of each hiding place.
Moments later, the visions faded. In their place, crimson words bled across the mirror:
"According to the principle of equivalence, it is now my turn to ask a question. If you lie or fail to answer, you must accept the task I assign—or suffer punishment."
"Can you truly lead me to my great master?"
The hazy figure in the mirror smiled faintly.
"Of course."
———
After finishing dinner, Edward strolled around the garden to digest, his thoughts circling back to Arrodes.
Why wouldn't the Church lend Arrodes to Roselle? If even Roselle can't get his hands on it, then what other way is there to access it?
Break into the Church and steal it directly?
If he knew its exact location, perhaps it was possible. But barging into the Church blind and hoping to "find it on the spot"…what, did he really think the God of Steam was a pushover?
There was another possibility…
He suddenly recalled the future case of serial murders orchestrated by that Devil. Perhaps he could mimic that strategy—manufacturing a string of incidents that would force the Machinery Hivemind to bring out Arrodes to aid in the investigation?
But then again, even the assassination of Count Clair—a case of that magnitude—hadn't drawn out Arrodes. Just how big of an incident would he have to cause? If he went that far, it might attract two or three angels at once. That wouldn't be trouble—it would be outright suicide.
The thought left Edward momentarily adrift.
Ever since arriving two centuries in the past, his greatest driving force had been the search for Lilith. To find her, Arrodes had always been the safest, most reliable method. That was why he had set so many plans into motion.
But now, faced with the possibility that Arrodes was out of reach, he found himself at a loss.
Slap!
After a long pause, Edward smacked his forehead.
"Edward, Edward…what are you even thinking?"
"Even if I do find Lilith, that's just the first step. Don't forget—she has at least one god and two Kings of Angels as her enemies. Without enough strength, even if I find her, how could I possibly protect her?"
"Right now, I don't even have the two Sequence 3 characteristics. Instead of brooding here, I should be thinking of ways to acquire them."
Besides, everything about Arrodes was just speculation for now. Perhaps…when Roselle came back, the Church would have found it after all.
That thought eased the knot in his chest.
As always—
one step at a time.
——
That night, Edward went to bed unusually early, and even began to dream.
In the dream, he found Lilith. Together, they spent two peaceful centuries, until the day when they finally reunited with Audrey in future.
Then, he personally helped Klein ascend to the position of Lord of Mysteries—letting him clash head-on with the Outer Gods—while he himself remained comfortably in the rear, living happily with Audrey and Lilith.
On that day, Audrey wore a snow-white wedding dress, walking toward him with radiant joy. Susie followed in a lovely gown, flower basket in her mouth, while Lilith scattered petals along the way.
As they drew closer, Edward reached out to grasp Audrey's delicate hand—
Suddenly, a muddled chorus of chanting shattered the scene:
"The Eternal Sovereign Above Dimensions;
The Deconstructor of Endless Stories;
The Transcender of Past and Future."
Edward's eyes flew open. He realised he was still lying in bed. Everything had been a dream. The sudden awakening left him somewhat dazed, his mood turning emo.
Moments later, he cursed aloud, "…Damn it, I'll see which bastard is disturbing me in the middle of the night!"
He leapt up, quickly ascending into the Sefirah Castle. At a glance, he saw Roselle's star pulsing in the depths of the grey fog.
Didn't that guy just set sail?
Frowning, Edward infused spiritual power, linking their connection, and pulled Roselle into the hall.
"Your Excellency, good evening."
Roselle bowed.
Edward gave a curt nod. "Mm."
"The matter you entrusted to me last time is complete," Roselle said, almost raising his hand to show it off. "I successfully acquired a Sealed Artifact from the Church."
Seeing Edward silent, he quickly explained, "I used the danger of my sea voyage as a pretext to request it from them. Of course, though I said 'borrow,' when the time comes I'll simply report it lost at sea. The Church won't truly expect its return."
"Your Excellency, does this count as fulfilling your mission?"
Edward propped his chin on his hand, pretending to ponder. "It counts."
"So…you wish to use this to earn my protection?"
"Of course!" Roselle immediately shook his head. "But…besides protection for myself, I also hope you can extend it to my family—my wife and my daughter.
"Today, I sailed out into the sea. In the coming months, I likely won't be able to return. The Church has promised to protect my wife and child, but I still can't rest easy. So…"
His request genuinely surprised Edward. His tone, however, turned cool, "Roselle Gustav, perhaps you misunderstand. When I say 'protection,' I mean a single intervention."
"…"
Roselle forced a strained smile. "Then…that is enough. Thank you, Your Excellency."
"Mm."
Bowing once more, Roselle said, "Then I shall take my leave."
Edward frowned slightly. Roselle hadn't pressed with further questions or requests?
Was it because he knew the real game was about to begin, and chose to stop there? Or was it because he was already at sea, knowing he couldn't possibly fulfil Edward's next "tasks," and so opted to stay silent?
Either way, it didn't matter. With Arrodes out of the picture, he couldn't count on Roselle to steal it from the Church.
So—time to change the rules of the game.
"Roselle Gustav."
"Yes."
Edward gestured. "Sit at the chair to the left of the round table."
"Understood."
Though puzzled, Roselle obeyed.
"I sometimes host…interesting gatherings here. Before you, two members had already participated, each leaving with a satisfactory experience."
"From this moment, you are the third member. When the time is right, I will convene another gathering."
Roselle's heart skipped a beat, but he forced himself to respond solemnly, "Thank you, Your Excellency."
Edward said no more, severing the connection.
Back in his captain's cabin, Roselle drained a glass of liquor in one gulp, easing the heat in his chest.
"As expected—an evil god is still an evil god. There's no way to get cheap favours from one."
Whatever that so-called "gathering" was, he didn't believe for a second that the other two members had truly left satisfied.
Ah, I should have just kept asking questions honestly. Now that I'm at sea, even if He does want something stolen from the Church, I'll be useless for months anyway.
He poured another drink, swallowing it down in a single draught.
"Grimm!"
He shouted toward the door. Soon, Grimm entered, dressed in adventurer's garb. "What is it, sir?"
"How many times have I told you? Address me as Captain! You're on the Sailor pathway—don't be so unprofessional."
Grimm shrugged helplessly. "Alright, Captain."
"Tell the men to rest when they can. I'm not in such a rush. No need to sail day and night without pause."
"Understood."
"You've worked hard."
Grimm saluted and left, closing the door.
Knock, knock, knock.
Almost immediately, the door was rapped again.
"Come in."
This time, it wasn't one of Roselle's four horsemen, nor any of his crew.
It was a man in a black robe.
Zaratul.
Roselle shot to his feet.
"Zaratul!"
———
[Note]: Don't forget to VOTE. It keeps me motivated.