On the beach at night, two girls stood facing each other a few paces apart.
In the darkness, the Starfolk still continuously surged ashore like a tide.
Thick layers of dark clouds stacked in the sky, pressing heavily over the sea like mourners at a long funeral.
Cecia looked at Vesper in front of her.
Then, she took a step forward.
She could actually more or less understand why this girl had become like this.
Since childhood, Vesper had lived under the awe and strict expectations of others.
Everyone knew she was the Saintess, that she could establish contact with the Abyss, and that she was one of the most important people in the Cult.
Consequently, everyone only cared about what she “could do,” but rarely did anyone care about what she “wanted.”
Whether she could throw tantrums, whether she liked something or not, whether she had friends, or whether she was lonely—these things seemed to have never been important.
Her emotions, bottled up for who knows how many years, had finally found an outlet in these past few short days.
Yet, just as she was beginning to experience what a “friend” truly was, Vesper suddenly discovered that this relationship might be ending very soon.
Once the Historical Echoes ended, the Nightingale before her would probably disappear like a dream.
She didn't even know what Cecia's real name was.
Nor did she know where she should go to find her.
And she certainly didn't know if the two of them even lived in the same era.
Cecia could understand that kind of panic to some extent.
So... she still had to properly educate this little Saintess who was crying her eyes out.
“Potato.”
Cecia took another step forward.
The constantly writhing tentacles instinctively made her a little uncomfortable.
Pitch-black and slimy, they didn't look like anything suitable for making friends, no matter how one looked at them.
But strangely, the further forward Cecia stepped, the further back the shadows around Vesper retreated.
Those tentacles retracted one by one, as if terrified of accidentally hurting her.
Seeing this, the last bit of tension in Cecia's heart gradually faded away.
“Put these things away first.”
“Then sit down,”
“and sit with me for a bit.”
Her voice was very soft.
Vesper did not argue.
She only whispered a soft response:
“Mhm.”
She seemed to find the white blindfold on her face uncomfortable now that it was soaked with tears.
After hesitating for a moment, she finally untied it.
For the first time, Cecia truly saw Vesper's eyes.
They were pitch-black and deep, with almost no other colors mixed in.
Like a bottomless sea at night.
The edges of her eyes were still slightly red.
She was completely different from the terrifying and eerie Saintess of the Abyss that Cecia had imagined.
She was just a little girl who had just finished crying.
Vesper's eyes possessed a strange kind of allure.
At least, Cecia stared for several seconds before realizing she seemed to have been staring a bit too long.
“Sit.”
The two of them sat down on the beach together.
Vesper was very obedient.
However, although she said she was putting the tentacles away, she hadn't actually retracted them completely.
Those shadows quietly crept along the beach.
A few Starfolk that had just drawn near didn't even make a sound before being dragged into the darkness.
Crack.
They shattered into pieces.
Then the next one.
And the next one.
Vesper herself remained completely motionless, sitting quietly beside Cecia.
Obviously, her emotions hadn't fully settled yet; she had just learned to hide them.
It wasn't until this wave of the tide completely stopped and no new Starfolk appeared in the distance that the shadows truly retracted back beneath her feet.
Only a massive expanse of mangled, bloody remains was left on the beach.
Cecia took a glance and fell silent.
"..."
Well.
There was no way to use these for a 【Burnt Offering】 anymore.
Potato probably wouldn't eat them either.
So the reason she hadn't gone all out during the battle earlier was actually to avoid wasting food?
Cecia suddenly found this somewhat ridiculous.
Vesper, however, looked as though she had finally completed a task, tilting her head to look at her.
“Nightingale.”
“Hmm?”
“Look.”
“I was very obedient.”
“I already put the tentacles away.”
Cecia glanced at the ground covered in severed body parts.
"..."
Isn't your definition of “obedient” a little bit skewed?
Vesper, however, was very serious.
“The bishop said that willful people will be abandoned by the gods. So I never dared to be willful before.”
She lowered her head.
After a while, she gently rested her head on Cecia's shoulder again.
“But...”
“it seems like you don't want me anymore either.”
Her warm breath brushed near Cecia's neck.
Her fine, soft black hair was blown by the sea breeze, gently sweeping across her face.
Cecia's body stiffened slightly.
This time, she didn't dodge.
The two of them fell quiet for a moment.
In the end, Cecia was the first to speak.
“When did I ever say I was going to abandon you?”
Vesper's voice was very soft.
“After the Echo ends, won't you just disappear?”
"..."
“I don't even know what your real name is.”
“Nor do I know where you live.”
“Then you can come find me.”
Vesper looked up.
“Where?”
"..."
Cecia was momentarily at a loss for words.
Good question.
She was currently using the code name “Nightingale.”
Vesper likewise hadn't told her her full identity.
The two of them couldn't even confirm just how far apart they were in reality.
Vesper continued:
“I want to see you every day.”
“Can't we be the kind of friends who...” She struggled to find the right words, “always stay together forever?”
"..."
Cecia fell silent.
Seeing that she didn't answer immediately, Vesper rubbed her head against her shoulder again,
like a large black cat that had discovered its owner was preparing to head out.
Cecia felt somewhat helpless.
But she also began to realize that for Vesper, this was probably the most direct way of asking her to stay that she could think of.
From childhood to adulthood, Vesper had almost no freedom in any true sense.
Whatever she wanted, she could usually get.
Because she was the Saintess.
The Cult would satisfy all her material needs: the best residence, the best food, magic materials, and sacred artifacts.
As long as it didn't affect her duties as the Saintess, almost no one would be stingy.
But the cost was equally obvious.
Vesper remembered that the bishop had once told her:
A Saintess must not have too many personal attachments.
Because the Saintess belongs to God.
Her personal maid had also told her:
The Saintess must not leave the Cult at will.
Because the entire Cult needs her.
Even Vesper herself had once taken it for granted that if one day the Abyss truly needed to borrow her body, she should hand it over.
Because ever since she was born, she seemed to exist solely for this purpose.
So she had always felt that this was fair.
She had given up so much, so when she wanted something, other people should naturally satisfy her wishes.
But now, for the first time, she had met someone different.
Nightingale didn't kneel to her, wasn't afraid of her, snatched things right out of her mouth, called her Potato, held her hand, got angry when she ate strange things, and stayed to keep her company when she cried.
Vesper had offered up what she understood to be the most precious things she had: her identity, wealth, the Cult, and in some sense, even her future.
Yet Cecia still hadn't agreed.
She didn't understand.
So, she finally couldn't help but ask:
“Why won't it work?”
Cecia looked down.
“What?”
“If you go back with me.”
Vesper counted on her fingers, beginning to list them off in earnest.
“I can give you a place to live...”
“Money...”
“Magic materials...”
“Sacred artifacts...”
“If you don't like the other people in the Cult...”
She paused, and said with absolute seriousness:
“I can make them stay far away from you.”
"..."
My goodness.
A Saintess was truly a Saintess.
She was already considering clearing the field, was she?
Vesper wasn't done speaking yet.
“As for that connection left behind by the King of Dawn and Dusk...”
Cecia instantly became alert.
“What are you trying to do now?”
“I can go ask the bishop.”
“To see if we can prevent the two powers from interfering with each other.”
“And if that really doesn't work...”
Vesper pondered.
“We can also find a relatively safe method to deal with it.”
“Stop, stop, stop.”
Cecia hastily cut her off.
Having just heard terrifying terms like “scraping the soul” in Chapter 40, she now had absolutely zero trust in the Abyss Cult's so-called “safe methods.”
“This thing on the back of my hand is perfectly fine.”
“I don't need you guys to deal with it.”
Vesper let out a low “Oh.”
She was clearly disappointed.
Cecia looked at her.
She suddenly felt that this scene was very bizarre.
Why did this feel so much like a sugar mama using money, houses, and various luxury goods to support someone?
And it was the kind where:
“If you don't like my employees, I'll just fire them all.”
Truly terrifying.
“Potato.”
Cecia finally reached out, ruffling her hair.
Vesper didn't dodge.
Instead, she actively leaned a bit closer into her palm.
“Friends aren't traded for with things like that.”
Vesper grew noticeably tense.
She pulled away from Cecia's shoulder, her hands instinctively clutching at her clothes.
“Then... what do I have to do for you to be willing to be my friend forever?”
Cecia was taken aback for a moment, and then smiled.
“Aren't we already?”
“Eh?”
“We have been ever since we held hands for the first time.”
Cecia reached out her hand, taking Vesper's of her own accord.
“Didn't you say so yourself?”
“Holding hands is magic that can make the relationship between two people better.”
Vesper looked at their clasped hands.
Her eyes gradually widened.
Cecia also suddenly understood at this moment why this girl was so obsessed with “holding hands.”
Because in the past, absolutely no one had ever done it.
In Vesper's world, when other people approached her, they either knelt, bowed their heads, or kept their distance.
Even the people who had raised her were more accustomed to treating her as the “Saintess,” rather than a little girl they could just hold hands with and run around.
So on that day, when Cecia had held her hand for the first time, Vesper had probably truly regarded it as something of immense, immense importance.
Someone was willing to hold onto her, not because she was the Saintess, nor because she could communicate with the Abyss.
But simply because—she was Vesper.
In that moment, this girl who had possessed everything since childhood felt for the first time that she, too, was actively chosen by someone.
She wasn't the vessel of a deity.
She wasn't the Saintess of the Cult.
She wasn't some precious tool.
She was just a little girl who deserved to have her hand held.
And that was why Vesper felt that this was the most important feeling.
This was what liking someone was.
This was what a friend was.
She would even take it for granted that since Cecia had held her hand, she should hold it forever.
“But...”
Vesper was still not completely at ease.
“Friends can also have other friends.”
“Yes, they can.”
“Well, I don't want that.”
“Why?”
“Because sooner or later,” Vesper lowered her head, “you might make a friend who is better than me.”
“Then you'll gradually stop coming to find me.”
“And in the end, we'll become strangers.”
Cecia fell quiet.
It turned out that what she truly feared was not separation, but being replaced.
Vesper possessed too many things since childhood, yet there was too little that truly belonged to “Vesper herself.”
Thus, once she truly obtained something, she would desperately try to grasp onto it.
She wanted to be Cecia's only friend, her only important person, occupying a position that could never be replaced by anyone else.
“Then...” Vesper asked cautiously, “if I only have you as my friend, can you also only have me as yours?”
Cecia looked at her.
These words sounded very willful, even slightly dangerous.
But she knew that the girl before her had no malicious intent.
She simply didn't know yet that relationships between people aren't about possession, and that truly liking someone isn't about locking them by one's side.
Cecia did not let go of her hand.
She merely shook her head gently.
“No, I can't do that.”
The light in Vesper's eyes clearly dimmed, but she still gripped Cecia tightly and didn't let go.
“Why?”
“Because I will meet many more people in the future. And so will you. You'll meet people you like, people you dislike, reliable people, idiots, bad guys, and Potatoes who can eat an exceptionally large amount, like you.”
Vesper did not laugh.
Cecia could only continue speaking.
“If the condition for becoming friends is that you cannot get to know anyone else, then that wouldn't be called friendship.”
“What would it be called?”
Cecia thought for a moment.
“Prison?”
"..."
The corners of Vesper's mouth finally twitched slightly, amused.
“Friendship isn't about completely claiming someone for yourself.”
Cecia said, “It means that even if I have my own life and you have yours, even after we've gone very, very far and met many, many people—when we meet again one day in the future—”
She gently shook their clasped hands.
“—we are still willing to hold hands just like this.”
Vesper listened intently, seeming to understand but not entirely.
“Then...”
She hesitated for a long time before finally asking the question she cared about the most.
“Can I not be the only one?”
“Yes.”
"..."
She was clearly even more disappointed now.
Then came her next sentence.
“Then can I be the most important one?”
Cecia looked at her.
The sea breeze blew.
Vesper's long black hair swayed continuously.
Those eyes, usually covered by the white blindfold, did not hold a single shred of the dignity that a Saintess of the Abyss ought to have.
Only anxiety, expectation, and a bit of pitiful fear of rejection.
Cecia suddenly smiled.
She reached out, gently flicking Vesper's forehead.
“As for that,”
“it'll depend on how Potato behaves in the future.”
Vesper covered her forehead.
“What kind of behavior?”
“Like eating fewer strange things, for instance.”
“No.”
"..."
“Then your chances are bleak.”
“Nightingale.”
“Hmm?”
“Can we swap that for a different condition?”
Cecia couldn't help but burst into laughter.
“Just how much do you love eating!”
Vesper didn't answer.
She merely rested her head against Cecia's shoulder once more.
This time, the shadows beneath her feet finally settled down completely.
In the distance, the sea tide gently lapped against the shore.
The dark night remained long, and the Starfolk had not truly disappeared.
Robert's secret, the truth of Tide Town, and even what this Historical Echo ultimately wanted them to see—none of it had an answer yet.
But at least for this moment, the two girls sat quietly by the sea.
Neither of them let go of the other's hand.
Rate on N.U.
