“Why are you doing this, giving away something so precious?”
Cecia asked in confusion.
Fekro was still as flashy as ever as he replied, “Do you take me for some emotionless machine?”
“Just because I'm a lowly bounty hunter? My heart is just as rich as yours, and my soul is just as pure. If it weren't a matter of absolute necessity, who would want to be a bounty hunter, living on a razor's edge? I also want to protect Tide Town.”
Fekro seemed to be showing some genuine emotion, though his theatrical, opera-like voice was a bit too flamboyant.
But Cecia finally let her guard down.
“What is your plan? To find the so-called sea-traitor?”
“My plan is to help Robert earn the bounty.”
“……”
“And then?”
“That's it.”
Fekro paused for a moment. “Just trust me.”
Seeing that no more useful information could be pried from Fekro's mouth, Cecia gave up.
“Alright, Mr. Fekro, I understand your dilemma. I agree to cooperate. Since you're not willing to say anything more right now, I think we should part ways. We still need to make a trip to Tide Prison.”
Fekro smiled slightly.
“Farewell, clever Miss Nightingale. Although you still look like a little shrimp, I believe in you. You might just be the key to turning the tables for me.”
He still wore that casual, devil-careless attitude. He tipped his hat to Cecia with a slight bow, then turned and walked away, quickly vanishing into the night.
Cecia couldn't quite read him. How could someone be so shameless?
Confident and arrogant as a wild beast, what made him think he could get away unscathed when facing an onslaught of high-level Starfolk and Kraken, the Sea God's familiar?
Isn't he just a Rank One Hunter?
How on earth did a Rank One Hunter get his hands on the Philosopher's Stone?
Cecia couldn't figure it out.
Vesper, on the other hand, was delighted. She held up the Philosopher's Stone, turning it over to examine it.
“Nightingale, this is real! I think he's a good person.”
“Potato, that's exactly why you're so easy to trick.”
“But he gave us stuff!”
“Oh, please, bad guys give people things too.”
“Is that so?”
“The situation is a bit complicated. Let's just trust him for now.”
“Okay.”
“Potato, aren't you going to patrol the shore? Your mission isn't finished yet, is it?”
“Don't worry, the Starfolk haven't attacked yet. Following Miss Nightingale to explore and complete side quests is the real way to go.”
...
Vesper's stomach suddenly growled. It was hard to tell if it was because the grilled fish from the roadside stalls smelled too good, or if the street vendors' hawking was just too enticing.
In any case, Vesper started clamoring that “if I can't eat grilled fish, what's even the point of this Spirit Realm Excursion!” as she made a fuss about going to the night market.
Good grief, to this Saintess of the Abyss Cult, the Spirit Realm Excursion was practically a game.
Even if she didn't complete the excursion, the Abyss Cult had a hundred ways to power-level her to Rank Eight.
They had all kinds of absurdly powerful resources—one look at the options would leave anyone speechless.
Left with no choice, Cecia went to a food stall and bought Vesper two grilled fish.
Once she had food in her mouth, Vesper stopped fussing and obediently followed behind Cecia.
“Potato, have you never had good food before? Why are you such a glutton?”
“No. In the cult, I have to maintain my image as the Saintess, so I'm not allowed to eat just anything, and the bishop doesn't let me eat either.”
Having said that, she went back to gnawing on her fish.
“Actually, to tell the truth, I never knew the world was this big. If it weren't for this rare Spirit Realm Excursion, I've never traveled far.”
Hearing Potato speak like this, Cecia felt bad about getting annoyed.
She hadn't expected that the famous Saintess of the Abyss Cult was actually a shut-in with barely any life experience.
Cecia walked along with the crowd while listening to Potato talk.
Tide Town at night was even more bustling than during the day.
Fishermen were carrying crates of silverscale fish onto the shore. There seemed to be no Starfolk attacks tonight, so there was still fish to be found, although the prices were a bit higher than usual.
Vendors hawked their wares.
Crowds gathered around the fishermen to bargain.
The air was filled with a lively clamor.
Vesper, however, couldn't help but look around in curiosity.
Cheap kelp wine.
Various fruits shipped in from inland.
Bread, grilled fish, and hot soup.
Residents laughed and chatted, painting a picture of peaceful small-town life.
People set up small stoves to grill fish, gathering in circles on the roadside to drink. Grease and spices dripped onto the charcoal, sending up puffs of aromatic smoke. Sailors and fishermen carried heavy crates, shuttling back and forth to transport cargo. A family of three walked leisurely along the shore, hands clasped tightly together.
These were all very ordinary scenes.
Honestly, as a modern person, Cecia had seen too many scenes like this; while there was a sense of novelty, it was largely the same.
Vesper, however, watched with great focus.
Although her face was covered by a white veil, her wide-eyed curiosity was still incredibly obvious.
Vesper tugged on Cecia's sleeve and pointed to the family holding hands in the distance, asking, “Why do they look so happy?”
“Because they're a family.”
“Does being a family mean you can hold hands?”
“Of course.”
“Can I hold hands with you, Miss Nightingale?”
“Why do you want to hold my hand?”
“I've never held anyone's hand before, and I want to know what it feels like. Comic books say that holding hands is a kind of magic that brings people closer, so I wanted to try.”
Vesper asked carefully, as if a little afraid of being rejected.
“Wipe your hands first.”
“Oh.”
Vesper's hands were sticky with grease from the grilled fish. Only after using magic to wash them clean did she reach out toward Cecia.
Looking at the flawless white hand, Cecia ultimately held out her own.
Their slender fingers intertwined.
Two girls holding hands was nothing unusual, but Vesper seemed a bit tense.
“Are you not allowed to have physical contact with anyone in the cult, Potato?”
“Pretty much. Whenever I reach out my hand, they always shrink back. The more fanatical ones get incredibly excited just by seeing me, let alone touching me.”
“And of course, the bishop and my personal maids aren't allowed to either.”
“Once we get out, I'm definitely going to brag to the people of the Abyss Cult. Your Saintess's hand was held by me, Nightingale, first!”
Vesper giggled. “Hmph! You should feel honored!”
“I know, My Lady Saintess.”
Cecia continued, “So? How does it feel?”
“How does what feel?”
“Did the book lie? Does this magic work?”
Vesper's fingers tightened involuntarily.
“It seems to be true.”
She drifted slightly closer.
“The aura of the Abyss on you, Miss Nightingale, always makes me feel so close to you.”
“Is the Abyss aura on me that strong?”
“To us, it is a Blessing.”
“Do you have a way to remove it?”
“Even I have no way to take back Our Lord's gift.”
“Then there's nothing that can be done.”
“I actually really want to help you, Miss Nightingale.”
The two continued walking hand in hand, Vesper wearing a rare smile.
It was a relatively perfect night.
If one ignored the eerie Tide Prison in the distance, that is.
Cecia looked up.
The towering black walls had appeared at the end of the street.
Unlike the bustling night market near the docks, the vicinity of the prison was distinctly quiet. Roadside shops were few and far between, and several dim yellow kerosene lamps hung on the walls, swaying precariously in the sea breeze.
Further ahead, even the drunken sailors grew scarce.
The tide continuously battered the reef.
Swoosh—
Swoosh—
Muffled sounds echoed from behind the high walls.
“We're here.”
Cecia stopped.
Vesper stopped alongside her.
She looked down at their still-clasped hands.
Then she looked back up at Cecia.
She didn't let go.
“Potato.”
“Hmm?”
“We're here.”
“I know.”
“So?”
Vesper tilted her head.
“So what?”
“……”
Cecia finally understood.
This girl had absolutely no intention of letting go on her own.
Whatever.
Let her hold it if she wanted to.
It wasn't like she was losing anything.
Thus, the two of them walked toward the prison gates.
Tide Prison was very close to the docks.
The waves lapped against the shore.
It was a quiet night under a bright moon.
The night-shift guards were dozing off, even though it wasn't quite bedtime yet.
Cecia easily patted the dozing guard awake. Showing her adventurer badge, she used the excuse of searching for seaside demon beasts and dropped the names of the church and Robert, swaggering right into Tide Prison.
The warden, a dark-skinned man, soon came to receive them.
“My ladies, what brings you to the prison so late at night?”
“We're here to look up someone—specifically, Inmate 779.”
“This way, please.”
The warden was very sensible and cooperated enthusiastically.
Stepping into the cellblock, a damp, musty stench washed over them.
The sound of coughing, along with catcalls and whistling, echoed from both sides.
“So small? Is she new?”
“Another newcomer?”
“The little sister is quite...”
Before the prisoner could finish, the warden slammed his iron baton against the bars.
The prisoner immediately grimaced in pain.
“Keep your mouth shut. These are important figures sent from above.”
Having made an example out of him, the cells instantly grew much quieter.
Potato quietly tugged on Cecia's sleeve.
“What is it?”
“There are so few people here.”
Cecia looked around, and it was indeed true.
A small town wouldn't naturally have too many criminals.
But a maritime town like Tide Town should have been different.
With traveling merchants, rampant pirates, bandits, and the sheer number of street thugs, there was no way the inmate population should be this sparse.
It made no sense for there to be only this handful of prisoners.
Upon arriving at the warden's office, he pulled a thick register from a cabinet.
“Adventurers, these are the prisoner records for the past ten years. Take your time looking through them. Just call me if you need anything.”
Having said that, he sat off to the side and began reading a thick novel.
Cecia and Vesper flipped through the prison records page by page under the candlelight.
They soon found the record for Inmate 779.
He was a middle-aged man named Nord who had been imprisoned for robbery and murder in his earlier years.
His sentence was extremely long; in modern terms, he was meant to rot in prison.
However, there was a handwritten note at the end of his record.
【Bailed by church, dispatched for atonement】
Cecia turned her head to ask the warden, “Warden, can the church actually post bail for criminals?”
“Yes. Mr. Robert is a kind man. He couldn't bear to see sinners die in vain, so he took them out to do community service.”
“I see.”
“Do you know where they went?”
“No idea. Once they step out of those doors, they are no longer my concern.”
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