128.

“Then you’ll be able to protect the man by your side. And you’ll find peace too.”

“Bullshit. You mean I should just sit around and eat for free?”

Ro grumbled, but strangely, she didn’t feel bad at all. She didn’t know what Lady Audrey was scheming, but it was certainly something underhanded. If Cardier’s safety was at stake in the process, then that information was something she should have extracted at any cost.

Ro tightly clenched her damp palms. According to Calypso’s prophecy, she would indeed be heading to the imperial palace before long. To be honest, she had a strong, ominous premonition that something terrible was about to happen. The last time ‘Leah’ went to the palace, she had her soul stolen.

There was no guarantee Rosetta wouldn’t suffer the same fate. But she had no real solution. Ro scratched the back of her head roughly.

“Damn it… What the hell is going on? Alright, I get it. Is there anything else I need to know?”

Calypso looked at Ro with a satisfied expression, studying her from every angle—just as she often did when she truly inhabited Rosetta’s body. That kind, gentle look resembled a mother gazing at her child, or perhaps a master observing a disciple, or even a god tenderly watching over their only believer. Suddenly, as if remembering something, the witch let out an exclamation.

“Oh yes. Come to think of it, Calypso has this.”

Then she rummaged through her messy hood and pulled something out. At first glance, it looked like a black, hard piece of wood, but soon revealed to be a shriveled human hand—horribly severed at the forearm. Even the bold Rosetta felt her insides freeze. No, even a witch… was it really okay to casually carry something like that around?

“This time, Calypso shall pay the price for the laws of causality.”

Unlike the horrified Rosetta, Calypso calmly placed the hand on the table. Then she took out a small knife and cut into the withered forearm. Blood dripped from the wound, falling drop by drop onto the blackened hand. What Ro saw next was a sight too unbelievable to accept, too disturbing to forget. The dried human hand began to squirm as if it were alive. If she had been an ordinary noble lady, she would have fainted on the spot.

“W-w-what… w-what kind of grotesque thing is this…?”

The hand even seemed to writhe in agony, trying desperately to avoid the blood drops. Soon, black smoke began to rise slowly from the spot touched by the witch’s blood, and in an instant, the entire form vanished into thin air. Ro stood frozen, mouth agape. Finding her expression amusing, Calypso blinked her pale, milky-white eyes and laughed.

“This is a precious offering, but nothing is too precious for my saint.”

…My saint? Ro couldn’t even begin to figure out whether to question Calypso’s words or the horrifying scene she had just witnessed. While Ro stammered in confusion, Calypso neatly adjusted her clothes. Even the wound from which blood had flowed disappeared before her eyes, making her doubt whether what she had just seen had truly happened.

“That girl… the one you know as Audrey.”

“…”

“Skilla wishes to create an immortal vessel for a god. One that never decays, forever escaping causality, eternally enjoying youth and absolute power.”

“A vessel for a god?”

“Yes. More precisely, using the body of Leah Lunox Valdemore, the saint.”

A god? Eternal youth and absolute power? It sounded like a distant, fantastical tale. Ro felt her shoulders trembling involuntarily.

“So… that woman wants to become a god?”

“No. She already is a god by nature.”

“What… nonsense…”

Damn it. What is going on? Even as the conversation continued, everything remained a mystery. Four years. It felt like only a few months ago, she had been a pirate roaming the seas—forever distant from such complex, precious matters. It would be easier to dismiss all of this as the delusion of a mad witch. But everything she had seen and heard so far compelled her to believe Calypso’s words were true.

“Alright. Let’s say you’re right. Gods are supposed to be immortal. Why would she covet a mortal vessel for an immortal god? Especially a human body?”

“Gods are not immortal,” Calypso said. “Time flows differently for them, so you humans may perceive them as such.”

“…”

“What is certain is that Pontos, Pluto, or Deus—they are not truly immortal. A god without believers loses power and wanders. In such cases, they gradually fade away, returning to the human world.”

“…”

“But Skilla… she is different.”

Suddenly, Calypso’s voice dropped cold, as if severed mid-sentence.

“If she uses the saint’s body to escape causality, a greater calamity than ever before will engulf the continent. Causality cannot be delayed or deceived—it is an inevitable moment that must be faced. No one is exempt, not even a god.”

Calypso’s face was utterly solemn as she spoke. At that moment, Ro was seized by a deep sense of déjà vu. The witch’s face overlapped sharply with something from the distant past. What was it? What was it again…?

As she pondered deeply, a faint fragment of memory gradually surfaced clearly before her eyes. It was an ancient mural painted inside an abandoned sea cave. A sea goddess with foamy white hair and azure robes fluttering in the waves.

At that moment, Ro instinctively realized that place had been an abandoned temple of Pontos. After Deus became widely worshipped, Pontos’s temples had been abandoned or hidden in this way. The reason such an ordinary memory had lingered all this time was because the temple was ancient, and under the doctrines of Deus, Pontos had long been regarded as an ominous symbol of a ‘false god.’ But why did this memory surface so abruptly now, as she faced Calypso?

Ro was gripped by an overwhelming intuition. She opened her mouth almost as if half-entranced.

“Calypso. Then let me ask just one thing. Back then, I…”

But before she could finish her sentence, an overwhelming wave of sleep crashed over her. Ro realized Calypso must have done something to her—something similar to what she had done to put everyone on the ship to sleep. Instantly, her body grew heavy and drowsy, her eyelids drooping. As she swayed, Calypso firmly caught her and laid her back on the bed. She felt the wrinkled hand gently touch her forehead.

“Calypso is the sea witch. You live and breathe in an unfortunate age—when gods become witches, and fall to become evil deities.”

Damn it… my head is getting dull. The witch’s words—no, Pontos’s words—barely reached half her ears. Yet, from the point of contact, an astonishingly warm and peaceful energy seeped into her. A tender, smiling voice followed, suppressing the usual overlapping murmurs like waves, leaving one clear voice speaking distinctly.

“My saints have always been born with strong bodies. Bodies that can cut through storms barehanded, withstand tsunamis. Over the sea, they carry the blessing of the swiftest wind and can hear the voice of the waves. So how could mere men possibly overpower them?”

The touch of Pontos stroking her hair was incredibly gentle. As her consciousness gradually blurred and neared collapse, the god whispered into her ear.

Now I understand how you managed to wear a new shell.

* * *

“Rosetta.”

It was Daisy. The moment she saw the girl’s face, Ro realized she was dreaming. Daisy looked perfectly fine. She wasn’t bloody like the last time Ro saw her, her knuckles weren’t swollen, and she didn’t stutter at all.

Ro couldn’t tell whether this was truly Daisy’s soul visiting her or just an illusion created by her conscience as a defense mechanism. But the fact that the girl wore clean, high-quality clothes brought her comfort nonetheless. Daisy ran up bravely and firmly grabbed her hand.

“I came to say goodbye before I leave.”

“Leave…?”

“I wanted to make sure I told you—I have no regrets.”

Daisy’s expression was bright and utterly untroubled. Her back and shoulders, once always hunched, now stood fully straightened. It made her look remarkably light and free—like a flying fish leaping energetically toward the sky, as if she had not a trace of attachment to this wretched world. Shyly, Daisy lowered her head.

“You were the only one who treated me with kindness. The only one who shared bread with me.”

“…That was…”

“I knew from the beginning. I knew you were being kind only to get information. But still, you were the only one who let me stay by your side.”