"Deacon Ishmael, sir."
Leonard Mitchell pushed his way through the crowded bar and approached the deacon.
The man's cold, detached demeanor seemed completely at odds with the lively atmosphere around him.
And unless Leonard was mistaken, the deacon was drinking lemonade.
In a bar.
"What is it?" Silas asked flatly.
"Captain Soest asked me to report the situation to you."
Leonard hesitated, glancing at the crowd around them.
"Don't worry. None of them can hear us."
As Silas spoke, he held up the oddly shaped pocket watch in his other hand, subtly implying that he had activated the item's power.
In reality, the watch was merely strange in appearance. Beneath its unusual exterior, it was nothing more than a mechanical device with an unconventional design.
The people around him were unable to notice his presence because of his own extraordinary abilities.
Still, Silas made a point of pretending that the watch was responsible.
The reason was simple. He needed to conceal his true identity.
Within the Church, he was registered as a Beyonder of the Sleepless pathway. In actual combat, however, he inevitably used abilities belonging to several different Sequences, so he used the watch as a convenient excuse.
"Understood."
Leonard instinctively glanced at the pocket watch before continuing.
"So far, we've captured three vampires. The captain wanted me to ask whether we should begin interrogating them."
"There's no need."
Silas shook his head.
"We only brought them in to put pressure on the leaders of the vampire clans. They probably don't know anything themselves."
In truth, he had already obtained all the information he needed through hypnosis and passed it on to the [Moon].
"Then how long should we keep them?" Leonard asked. "They've been making a scene in their cells, insisting that noble vampires shouldn't be treated this way."
He paused, then added, "The vampires' liaison has also come to protest. He claims we're abusing our authority and demands that we release them."
So they thought they could cause trouble?
Silas replied calmly, "Find several of the Church's most devout priests, preferably the ones most familiar with the scriptures, and station them outside the vampires' cells. Have them read scripture aloud. Since the prisoners are so restless, perhaps listening to more holy teachings will help calm them down."
Making vampires listen to the Goddess's Revelations of the Night...
Leonard's eyes went slightly unfocused.
Silas continued, "As for their liaison, tell him we've confiscated objects connected to the 'Primordial Moon' from some of the vampires. We suspect they may be involved with an evil god."
"Not only will we refuse to release them, but we also expect the vampire clans to provide us with an explanation."
He finished, "Unless they agree to cooperate with the investigation, those prisoners are not to be released under any circumstances. Understood?"
"Understood!"
Leonard was somewhat stunned.
The senior members of the Church of the Evernight he had encountered before had either been dependable and steady or sharp and intimidating. Ishmael was the first he had met who was this cold, forceful, and uncompromising.
Still, the man was in charge and clearly willing to accept responsibility for the consequences. All Leonard had to do was keep his head down and carry out his orders.
After Leonard left, Silas remained at the bar and wrote a letter.
It was fairly brief:
[Believers of the "Primordial Moon" have been discovered in Backlund.
I suspect they may be connected to a traitor from the "Life School of Thought," as well as the "Rose School of Thought." I intend to take action. If you possess any relevant information, I would appreciate it if you shared it with me.]
The letter was addressed to Councilor Ricciardo of the "Life School of Thought."
These believers were, after all, a traitorous offshoot of that organization. Even if only out of respect for the "Snake of Mercury," it was appropriate to notify them.
Come to think of it, the couple carrying him in the womb should have reached Backlund by now. Silas wondered how much longer it would be before the child was born...
As he considered this, Silas pushed up his sleeve and pressed a finger against the black anchor-shaped mark on his skin.
"Shff."
The ship spirit, Miss Antia, appeared immediately. Her graceful figure looked especially striking beneath the bar's lights.
"Deliver this to Councilor of Fate Ricciardo on Oravi Island."
Silas handed her the letter, then looked her over.
"How are you feeling? Has your condition become any more stable?"
"A little better than before."
Antia accepted the envelope.
"But I still can't say how long it will take me to recover completely."
Her condition is worse than I thought...
Silas felt a flicker of concern.
It seemed he could not simply continue waiting. He needed to find a proper way to anchor her and spread her name as widely as possible.
He could make her his flagship, tying her identity to his own reputation as the "Scarlet King." However, that would require his sailors to actively spread stories about her.
There were other possibilities as well.
Perhaps some kind of literary work?
He quickly thought of a suitable candidate: the novelist he knew, the [Magician], Miss Fors Wall.
He could ask her to write several thrilling stories about a ghost ship and have them published in the newspapers...
Silas was still considering the idea when he looked up and suddenly found Antia's face only inches from his own.
Without him noticing, the angelic young lady had drifted directly in front of him.
"What are you doing?!"
Silas flinched in surprise.
"You were thinking about someone else just now, weren't you?"
Antia spoke with absolute certainty.
"I'm standing right in front of you, and you're still thinking about someone else?"
She stared directly into Silas's eyes. Instead of slipping into the spirit world, she pressed the letter firmly against the bar with one slender hand.
Apparently, unless Silas gave her a satisfactory explanation, she had no intention of delivering it.
"You..."
Silas sighed helplessly.
Perhaps it was the lingering psychological damage from spending more than a hundred and fifty years sailing the seas alone, but Antia Trois appeared to suffer from severe separation anxiety.
Whenever Silas failed to give her enough attention, she quickly became lonely and uneasy.
"I was only thinking about how to stabilize your condition," Silas explained. "I happen to know a writer who could help create some legends about you..."
It took him quite some time to finally calm Antia down.
---
Meanwhile, out at sea.
"Adjust the angle! Keep firing!"
Anderson shouted from the deck.
"Don't let those devils escape!"
Cannon fire thundered as the sailors moved in perfect coordination under his command, carrying out the assault with practiced precision.
Ahead of them, a sailing ship flying a black flag marked with a skull fled across the water at full speed.
The pirates aboard wore vicious expressions. Their captain had fully transformed into a devil with ram's horns and batlike wings, repeatedly hurling bolts of pale blue flame toward their pursuers.
They were indeed hunting down the remnants of the "King of Immortality" forces.
"Keep it up, lads!" Anderson shouted. "Our captain hunted down the King of Immortality himself. If we can't even deal with the last few strays he left behind, we'll be a disgrace to his name!"
His words were both taunting and encouraging. As though under the influence of some unseen magic, the sailors found fresh strength and drove the ship forward even faster.
At that moment, chaos suddenly erupted aboard the pirate ship belonging to the King of Immortality remnants.
The devil leading them abruptly stiffened, both hands clamping around his own throat.
At the same time, a cold, gaunt figure appeared and began firing shot after shot at the other pirates.
"Isn't that... him?!"
Anderson froze for a moment before recognizing the figure fighting aboard the enemy ship.
"Gehrman Sparrow?"