Fea and Katrina moved toward the dock, Elizabeth walking with them for the farewell.
"The ship has not left yet, right?" Katrina asked. There was a smile on her face, a glint of joy at finally freeing herself from the cage called the clan.
Fea was happy as well. Her expression softened, her smile widened as she replied, "We can still make it."
Elizabeth, however, wore a strange expression. She was neither happy nor sad. She was preparing herself for a new role and a new journey she would soon begin.
Still, one thought haunted her.
'Were we played by Josan?'
The demolition of the mansion had never been part of the plan. What else might the purple magician be hiding? She did not know.
Though she did not wish to, she spoke anyway, even if her words might sour the mood.
"What are the chances this ship will actually make it out?"
"None," Katrina replied quickly. Then, after a pause, she added, "But still… there is a chance."
Fea interrupted, "It will, if a member of the Men in Black vouched for it."
"They are the last remaining followers of the Dream God. If anyone knows the way, it is them."
Her words were filled with blind faith. After her dog's death, she had never found closure, and so now she clung to Josan's words.
Elizabeth remained silent.
Katrina held onto her resolve. Inwardly, she told herself this was the right path, yet her mind flickered between possibility and reality.
Back in the alleyway, purple flames flickered before Josan, his figure nearly disappearing within their light.
Suddenly, he sensed something wrong.
His eyes widened. He summoned the wings from his back and crossed them in a defensive stance.
But hair-like threads slipped through the gaps between the feathers, moving straight toward their target.
In desperation, Josan threw Opelia's heart away.
The threads wrapped around it instantly, sparing him.
Josan turned toward Rosacer, but he was already gone.
The doll, its hair-like strands trying to seal Opelia's heart, began to shimmer and slowly fade from existence.
Josan cried out in rage, his voice echoing through the area. Windows shattered from the vibration, and the people nearby fled in terror, hiding wherever they could.
Back in the pit of darkness, where fanatics chanted their love, a pale green light flickered.
Rosacer emerged from the pale green flames and landed before a pit filled with darkness. Inside it, there was nothing but cold, endless void.
He bent toward the abyss and cried out, "Gordon, I have the heart. Show me the way. Tell me where the whirlpool is."
The moment his words left his mouth, they were swallowed by deafening silence.There was no response.
He waited.
He felt calm and sure about his choice, yet doubt still managed to sneak in.
He knew he had set the coordinates correctly.
As his mind slowly exhausted itself, Rosacer saw it.
A movement in the darkness, so subtle that no one else might have noticed. Then he heard it. The bell. Ominous, yet now it carried a spark of hope for him.
"Greetings, human. You are back so soon."
A voice came from the dark.
It was Gordon.
Gordon pulled himself from the dark, his dreadful smile fixed upon his shadowed, plaster-like face.
His robe flowed as he emerged, the ringing of his bell altering the very nature of the space around him.
"As I promised, here."
A parchment appeared from thin air. It was dark, its ink bone-white.
"Quickly. Give me the heart, human."
As the parchment landed in his hand, Rosacer scanned it. The information was there.
He nodded, his doubts finally cleared.
"What will you do with it?" he asked.
Gordon scoffed. "So, the human has grown strong."
He paused, lost in deep thought.
"I will free myself first."
"Then, I will take back my city."
"You do not need to worry about the people. I will take care of them, as much as fate allows me to."
With that, he fell silent and extended his hand.
Rosacer understood the meaning behind those words.
But he no longer cared.
He tossed the heart to Gordon and flicked his wrist.
The heart landed in Gordon's hand. He crushed it.
With a wailing laugh, he said to the shimmering figure of Rosacer, "Do you know Opelia's real name was Tamasya, Mr. Ignorant Apostle of the Dark Messiah?"
Colors flooded Rosacer's vision. Then came darkness.
Inside the domain of Oblivion.
"The sculptress… she was the sculptress…"
His thoughts tangled, but exhaustion soon overcame him. He stopped thinking. It was too much for him now.
The exit already stood before him.
He would leave the city behind. If he were lucky, he would never return.
Soon, the image of the sailor he had spoken to earlier appeared before his eyes, and he drifted toward it.
The coordinates were set.
The darkness faded.
He landed on the deck of a ship. Before him stood many sailors, young and strong.
They wore white clothes with red stripes. On their heads were small caps lined in blue.
When Rosacer emerged from the pale green flames, some of them raised their guns. They stopped at once when one sailor stepped forward.
He recognized Rosacer.
Before teleporting, Rosacer had once again taken on his old man disguise, this time dressed in a black suit.
"Hey, youngster. I thought I should join you on your journey as well," he said in the voice of an old man.
The young sailor bowed slightly as he greeted him. "You will need to speak with the captain first."
"Follow me, I'll guide you," he said, turning toward the cabin.
Rosacer gave a faint nod and followed behind. Out of sight, he finally let out a quiet sigh.
Beneath his suit, the doll hung hidden. He used it as a medium not only to access Oblivion, but also to mask his presence. Now, he radiated more of the doll's aura than the ancient essence of Oblivion itself.
"My name is James Nerobay," said the young sailor as he walked ahead.
"I am Rosacer. Just Rosacer," he replied in a low voice. "Thank you, James."
Inside the captain's cabin, a man stood.
His frame was tall, unnaturally so. A mutation born of the Mist City itself.
He wore a crisp white uniform, and upon his hat gleamed blue stars. He was the captain of the Leviathan Mariner.
Before him, the sailor brought a man into the cabin. An old man. Someone useless for a voyage like this.
"So," the captain said, struggling to straighten himself, his towering height nearly brushing the roof of the cabin, "why should you be allowed to board, old man?"
Before James could speak, Rosacer answered calmly.
"I know a sure way out of Mist City."
Upon saying that, he pulled a parchment from inside his coat, its surface as black as the void.
He then began, "A passage that leads directly to one of the tombs of the Seven Heroes."
The captain didn't believe a single word, his face giving absolutely nothing away.
Suspicion filled his eyes as he stared at Rosacer. Inwardly, he mocked the old man for trying such a cheap trick. The Leviathan Mariner had searched for that passage for centuries, and now an old stranger claimed he possessed it.
A joke. Nothing more.
He let out a heavy sigh and glanced at James, who returned the look with the same quiet disappointment.
But in doing his diligence, he still maintained respect for the old man.
"How can I believe you are telling the truth?" the captain asked, turning back to Rosacer.
Rosacer instead smiled faintly.
Slowly, his lips parted as he spoke with calm confidence. "Because you already know the name, the Bay of Scrutiny. That's where it lies, the whirlpool that leads outside."
In that moment, he unfolded the parchment and showed the coordinates.
"It is written in—"
"The Truth Ritual," the captain finished, his eyes widening as he saw the black parchment with bone-white ink.
"Yes, indeed," Rosacer said with a smile.
James looked from his captain to Rosacer. He did not fully understand the words, but he understood their meaning.
There was a way out. And this old man knew it.
His heart fluttered.
The captain took the parchment and examined it carefully.
After a careful and thorough examination, he concluded.
"It is the Truth Ritual," he whispered. "There is no doubt."
He then studied the coordinates. The exact location of the Whirlpool in the Bay of Scrutiny.
Slowly, a smile formed on his face.
He looked up at Rosacer. "Welcome aboard, old man." He paused. "What is your name?"
"Rosacer," old man replied calmly.
Back at the boarding dock, Elizabeth and her companions arrived.
The massive Leviathan Mariner stood before them, anchored in the water like a sleeping giant.
Katrina and Fea boarded the ship, one as a cook, the other as a cleaner.
Elizabeth remained behind.
She gave them a quiet farewell, then turned back toward the city alone.