Bernadette said mildly, "Or you could take me to find any Pirate Admiral."
"That's... that's a bit..."
Danitz scratched his head. Right now he didn't even know where his own captain was, let alone any of the other Pirate Admirals.
"What a shame. If I'd personally witnessed a Pirate Admiral on trial, I'd have had real bragging rights when I got back."
He trudged off with many a reluctant backward glance.
Vincent spoke up from within. "Don't forget to 'introduce' the Lord of Chaos to Danitz."
"..."
Bernadette felt a complicated tangle of emotions settle over her. She'd founded the Element Dawn specifically to oppose the Moses Ascetic Order and everything it stood for. And yet here she was, apparently walking the same path — seeking out people one by one, even pushing them to believe in an "evil god."
But for the sake of advancement, there was no other way.
"Danitz."
"At your service."
Bernadette handed him a slip of paper with three lines of Ancient Hermes script. "Read what's written."
She hesitated. "You can read Ancient Hermes?"
Danitz immediately puffed out his chest. "Of course! Ancient Hermes, Elvish, Jotun — I know seventy or eighty percent of all of them." All thanks to his captain's mandatory tutoring sessions. Brutal, but thorough. You didn't get to stay on Vice Admiral Iceberg's crew without putting in the work.
"These three lines look simple enough."
Danitz bent over the slip of paper and read aloud without a second thought: "Ruler of the Domain of Chaos; the One Who Restores the Tilted Scale; the Shadow of Order and Rules."
He straightened up with a rather self-satisfied tilt of the chin. "Not a single word wrong, I trust?"
Bernadette smiled and nodded. "Very good."
"So what do these three lines mean?"
Danitz paused. The pleased expression on his face was beginning to harden into something more troubled. He'd absorbed enough mystical knowledge from his captain to recognise certain structural patterns. Three lines, written in Ancient Hermes, arranged just like...
"This isn't... is this..."
He stared at Bernadette in dawning horror. "This is... a three-part honorific name?"
"Don't worry," Bernadette said pleasantly. "It's simply the honorific name of a certain mysterious entity."
"!!!"
"???"
A mysterious entity. That was one of the common euphemisms for an evil god.
I'm done for.
"You may go."
Danitz looked on the verge of tears. "I... I suddenly find myself not wanting to leave."
"Give Edwina a message — tell her that the Gustavs would like to speak with her."
She paused. "And pass her this — it's the summoning method for my messenger. She'll need it when the time comes."
Edwina was a descendant of Uncle Eduard, who had personally participated in the construction of Father's mausoleum. She might have inherited something that had been passed down.
Gustav.
As a native of Intis, Danitz knew exactly what that name meant — the imperial family of the Intis Empire, over a century gone.
"Wait — wait!"
Danitz's face went white. He stumbled back. "You — you're not planning something against our captain, are you? I will never betray her!"
"Get lost."
"Yes, of course!"
Watching Danitz make himself scarce with impressive efficiency, Bernadette returned to the Caesar Restaurant in Backlund. Until Vivian located a new flat, this was home.
Vivian was visibly delighted by the arrangement. Vincent strongly suspected the two-day search for a new place was being deliberately prolonged — that Vivian had no genuine intention of finding one quickly, and was simply using the time to keep Bernadette at the Caesar Restaurant.
Thinking about it in those terms, Bernadette really did seem to exert a kind of gravity on the people of the Dawn and the Element Dawn. Every single one of them followed her without question, served her without needing to be asked, gave her their unconditional loyalty. Something like a succubus? No — that wasn't right either.
"Are you thinking something rude again?"
Bernadette's voice arrived without warning.
"...I was marvelling at your charisma."
Why can she always read my mood, when I can never quite read hers?
"Heh heh."
Clearly not buying it.
"Vivian."
Bernadette turned to the figure standing quietly to one side. "Regarding the Church movements in Backlund over the past two days — have you found anything?"
"I've asked through some contacts. What they know is limited — the Churches appear to be investigating disappearances over recent years, working theory being a large-scale human trafficking operation."
"And have they found any actual evidence?"
"It seems they've confirmed the existence of a significant trafficking case, but all the key figures associated with it appear to have been silenced in advance. Nothing further beyond that."
Fast work, George III.
But at this stage in the story, his mausoleum should still be unfinished. Cutting off all the trafficking networks at once would surely disrupt the construction schedule — which might push back his Black Emperor ascension compared to the original.
Mid-thought, the grey-white mist swept in across her vision without warning. Through it appeared the distant form of Mr. Fool, enthroned above the Gray Fog, speaking in his unhurried measured voice: "The Hanged Man is looking for you."
Then Alger's silhouette manifested. He began with the obligatory thanks and praise for Mr. Fool before saying, "Miss Lovers — I arrived in Backlund yesterday. I've made up my mind to use myself as bait to draw out Qilangos. For that, I need your help."
"When?"
"Tonight."
"That works."
Tomorrow's swap would bring Vincent back in control of the body. Even with the Words of Order and the Blood-Drinking Bracer, facing Qilangos — who also had a Secrets Suppliant's mystical artefact — wasn't a sure bet.
"Let's fix a meeting place."
Alger hesitated briefly. "All right — one hour from now, Pier Four in the Docklands."
Once logistics were settled, Alger's silhouette faded. But Mr. Fool at the heart of the Gray Fog did not immediately cut the connection to Bernadette. He was quiet for a moment, then finally said, simply:
"Be careful."
Bernadette paused. "Thank you, Mr. Fool."
Above the Gray Fog, Klein severed the connection to Miss Lovers and leaned back against the bronze armrest, pressing two fingers to his temple. He'd originally planned to ask her about the captain's strange behaviour — but that could wait.
Yesterday, during a raid on a Beyonder called Madam Sheron, a teammate had died. Klein had mentally prepared himself for this — Captain Dunn had told him from the very first day to expect it.
What he couldn't shake was what came after: he'd watched the captain crouch beside Kenley's body and quietly consume his blood. Klein's first instinct had been that this was a sign of losing control — but it hadn't looked like that. The captain had been perfectly composed.
The thorn had lodged regardless.
A full day had passed. Every time Klein closed his eyes, he saw Kenley's body — and the captain, blood at the corner of his mouth. His intuition told him something was wrong. He wasn't imagining it.
His divinations above the Gray Fog had confirmed as much. He'd since sent letters to both Madam Daly and Mr. Azik seeking answers. Neither had yet replied.
He sighed. Klein wrapped his spirituality around himself and returned to reality.
He pressed the flush handle, stepped out of the washroom. At the card table nearby, Leonard — usually so carelessly at ease — sat with his head bowed in uncharacteristic silence. Melissa's expression was equally sombre.
She hadn't been part of last night's operation. She'd been mildly envious at the time. Learning of Kenley's death was the first moment she'd truly, viscerally grasped what it meant to live as a Beyonder.
If I'd gone along — if I'd been there — maybe I could have asked Teacher for help. Maybe Kenley wouldn't have had to die.
The thought kept returning. But she also remembered what Klein had told her more than once: in the Beyonder world, help outside of genuine relationships almost never came free. That mysterious woman who'd appointed herself her teacher — they'd known each other for only a short while. Their bond was still shallow.
Besides, Melissa had never fully lowered her guard around that woman. Not completely.
Captain Dunn emerged from the office carrying a sealed letter, his expression as composed and steady as always. "Regarding the letter Lanevus left behind..."
To be continued…
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