The subtle strain on Jeanne's expression upon her return didn't escape notice. Though her inner turmoil was muted—so much so that Skadi hadn't picked up on it despite traveling alongside her for days—it was immediately apparent to Kal'tsit.
The sole reason Kal'tsit hadn't brought it up right away was her educated guess that the matter revolved around Skadi. Indeed, the Hunter seemed to be at the very center of the storm.
Sending Skadi off under the pretext of checking on Specter had been a deliberate move to clear the room. Fortunately, Skadi was rather straightforward by nature, never suspecting for a second that she was being politely shuffled out.
Once the door clicked shut, Jeanne hesitated briefly before retrieving the documents she had retrieved from the subterranean vaults—correspondence detailing the collaboration between Aegirian figures and The Deep Sea Church, alongside secretive research files.
"Take a look at these first," Jeanne said, her voice weighted with concern.
Kal'tsit raised an eyebrow at Jeanne's tone, accepting the stack of papers. As her eyes swept down the page, her expression remained largely unchanged, save for a slight widening of her gaze when her eyes caught the letters.
She flipped through the records at a astonishing pace—a speed so remarkable that Jeanne briefly wondered if she was merely fanning the pages rather than digesting the text.
Finished with the stack, Kal'tsit closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath. She remained frozen in place for a long moment, completely silent.
Yet Jeanne could sense the turbulent emotions swirling behind that calm facade. It wasn't raw rage, but rather the quiet, bitter exasperation of watching someone march headlong down a path of self-destruction while powerless to stop their foolishness.
"At the very least, this falls within my projected scenarios," Kal'tsit remarked after a brief pause, regaining her usual composed demeanor. Her tone carried no grand boast of absolute foresight; it simply conveyed that such foolishness was never beyond the realm of possibility.
"You... actually anticipated they might pull a stunt this reckless?" Jeanne asked, genuinely surprised by the feline's composure.
"It is hardly surprising," Kal'tsit replied flatly. "Given the ingrained arrogance of the Aegirians, no level of folly from them truly shocks me." She paused, her voice turning cold. "Yet this scheme crosses into pure absurdity. Has decades of living underwater truly shriveled their brains to the point where they would sanction a plan like this?"
Though Aegir possessed staggering technological superiority, in Kal'tsit's eyes, their ruling minds were acting no better than saltwater fish whose intellect had pickled in the sea.
"What do you plan to do then?" Jeanne inquired. Arrogant as those sea-dwellers might be, the threat they posed was genuine. If mishandled, their hubris could unleash a disaster capable of drowning the entire continent.
"What can we do? Ensure Skadi remains far away from the ocean. That is the only effective measure available to us right now," Kal'tsit said with a quiet sigh. By the time this news reached them, the cultists' plan was already halfway underway. Keeping Skadi off the coastline was their strongest lever.
"Whether Aegir seeks to summon a deluge to submerge the surface or fashion a deity they delude themselves into thinking they can control, Skadi remains the indispensable catalyst—a catalyst that cannot be easily replaced. They cannot simply assemble another squad of Abyssal Hunters to slay another god overnight."
Hearing that, Jeanne felt a wave of relief, realizing the logic held firm.
"Besides, we are not entirely without recourse, are we?" Kal'tsit added, looking up. "You mentioned your power can deal a severe blow to the Seaborn species as a whole. Rest assured, even if a Great Silence were to be unleashed, the Seaborn cannot submerge the continent overnight. It would be a drawn-out struggle."
The way Kal'tsit spoke gave Jeanne the distinct impression that the long-lived woman had witnessed similar cataclysms in the distant past. Her matter-of-fact tone implied she had lived through world-ending crises before, and Jeanne half-wondered if the doctor was already drafting blueprints for subterranean shelters in her head.
"Regardless, let me examine the specimen first. You are free to wander Rhodes Island if you like; I should have initial findings in a few hours."
Without waiting for a reply, Kal'tsit picked up the container housing the preserved Seaborn remains and exited her office, leaving Jeanne alone in the quiet room.
"Phew... what a mess," Jeanne muttered, rubbing her temples as a headache crept in at the thought of yet another impending apocalyptic crisis.
Deciding against wandering the vessel, she leaned back on the couch, closing her eyes to rest. The long journey back from Iberia had drained her energy, leaving her with little desire to walk the corridors.
Crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch...
Some time later, a soft chewing sound broke the silence, sounding as though someone was enjoying a snack right beside her.
Opening her eyes in mild curiosity, Jeanne wondered who would have the nerve to eat inside Kal'tsit's office. Even with the doctor away, doing so felt like tempting fate.
Standing before her was Fafnir. The young dragon—whom Jeanne had sent off to find food upon their arrival—was standing obediently by the coffee table, her small eyes fixed intently on Jeanne as her jaws worked away on some roasted meat.
How had she tracked her way back here? And seeing the stick of freshly grilled meat in Fafnir's hand, Jeanne's own stomach let out a quiet rumble, reminding her she had missed her last meal.
"What are you munching on?" Jeanne asked, putting on a warm, inviting smile.
Fafnir blinked, instinctively taking a cautious step back as if sensing a sudden threat to her snack.
"I roasted some meat. Do you want some, Jeanne?" Seeing that Jeanne looked hungry, Fafnir extended a freshly grilled skewer, her obedient demeanor almost heart-melting.
"I'd love some!" Jeanne accepted the skewer, setting aside table manners as she took a eager bite.
Chewing the savory meat, Jeanne couldn't help but notice how much Fafnir's culinary skills had improved. The young dragon, who used to simply char food until it was barely edible, had transformed into a seasoned pitmaster. Jeanne wasn't sure whether to praise her natural talent or pity her drive for good food.
"By the way, what kind of meat is this? I can't quite place the flavor," Jeanne asked out of curiosity.
"Oh, it's those sea monsters!" Fafnir replied casually, showing zero hesitation about consuming Seaborn flesh. She looked up with bright eyes, practically begging for praise.
"Sea... cough, cough, cough!" Jeanne choked on her bite, her eyes widening in shock. When on Terra had this dragon managed to hoard more Seaborn meat?! How much of it was she hiding in her pockets?!
Jeanne opened her mouth to lecture the dragon, but realizing Fafnir possessed complete immunity to Seaborn corruption, she swallowed her reprimand along with the meat.
"You didn't share this with anyone else, did you?" Jeanne asked anxiously, knowing Fafnir had formed friendships with a few operators aboard Rhodes Island. The last thing she wanted was for the dragon to accidentally poison an innocent operator with sea monster skewers!
"Nope! I didn't give any to anyone else!"
Hearing that confirmation, Jeanne let out a sigh of relief. At least the dragon had enough sense not to share her exotic snacks around.
With that concern out of the way, Jeanne went back to enjoying the skewer. After all, her own divine protection made her equally immune to any corruptive effects.
That was the scene Kal'tsit walked into upon returning to her office—Jeanne and Fafnir sitting side by side, happily devouring roasted Seaborn skewers. Recognizing the texture and aroma of the meat instantly, Kal'tsit felt her worldview expanding in ways she hadn't anticipated when she woke up that morning.