131.

Ro raised the tip of her fingernail and slid it into the crack. After several failed attempts, she managed to lift the loose wooden plank. The hidden compartment wasn’t deep. Inside, Ro pulled out several leather-bound ledgers and sheets of paper. She gathered the found items into her arms and sat cross-legged on the bed.

A quick skim revealed that every document had been meticulously written in code—just as one would expect from Nick’s thorough nature. Fortunately, all of them were codes Ro could decipher. Though her mouth tasted bitter. That was only natural—this cipher had originally been taught to Nick and Rosetta alone by Kirgos. After both of them died, the man must have felt free to use it openly, since no one capable of decoding it would remain.

Ro opened the ledger placed on top. The first few pages were exactly what one would expect from an ordinary pirate ledger—densely filled with records of protection contracts with merchant guilds, details on which merchant ships had been raided, and how the profits were divided. Ro began reading the ledger carefully.

Her efforts weren’t in vain. As she progressed, increasingly suspicious contracts began to appear. In particular, the name of a recently purchased large-scale shipment was highly unusual. Ro felt she had heard that name somewhere before. When had it been? The memory refused to surface—until she saw the name signed on the document: Duke Baratelli.

‘I’ll do my best to prepare the goods within a few days. As you said, this isn’t the time to be choosy.’

‘……It seems timely delivery will suffice.’

Those snake-like whispers. How could she have forgotten them? According to the contract, this “Kioljen” had traded between ten thousand to fifteen thousand sol per crate. She didn’t know what it was, but even if it were rubies or sapphires, raw stones wouldn’t fetch such a price per crate.

‘So at best, it’s some rare ore only found in Tilsen.’

If even Rosetta, who adored rare gems, had never heard of it, then it clearly wasn’t a mineral commonly circulated in the market. Damn it. If she could, she’d drag Nick’s soul out of hell and shake every secret from it. Why had he purchased dozens of crates of such a peculiar mineral, and where had he gotten the money?

‘Let’s move on. We don’t have much time.’

She flipped through several more pages. The further she went, the more suspicious the contracts became. A few documents mentioned names like Diego, the Crown Prince of Esperanda, and Audrey. At first glance, they appeared to be standard trade records, but Ro gradually realized something odd about them. Instead of item names, the ledgers listed numbers and nationalities. As if… people were being traded. A sudden thought struck her.

‘Back then.’

Ro swallowed hard, her breath shallow.

‘They said they’d secure the final transport crew… Could they really have been buying and selling people? But why? Even if that’s the case, what could they possibly need so many people for?’

Her head spun. She tried piecing together information she’d heard before, but most of it had been overheard in passing, and nothing came to mind. This part clearly required further investigation.

‘This is the last volume.’

Ro gulped, then opened the thickest, final leather-bound notebook. To her surprise, it wasn’t a ledger or contract book—it was Nick’s personal diary. The earliest entries dated back to when they first set sail. The writing started out mundane and routine, but grew increasingly dark—descending into obsessive fixation, bizarre inner thoughts, and outright madness. The entries were less like coherent sentences and more like fragmented words and brief, disjointed reflections.

[Want to gouge out that child’s eyes, cut off their legs.] [Gods? Even dogs would laugh at that.] [That woman reeks of rotting corpses whenever I get near her.]

Much of it was incomprehensible, even beyond understanding. Had it not been for Calypso’s words, Ro would have assumed Nick was suffering from severe hallucinations. Flipping absentmindedly to the next page, Ro flinched, her shoulders twitching.

[Human sacrifice. How interesting.]

Human sacrifice. The moment she read that phrase, goosebumps erupted across her entire body. The traded people. Human sacrifice. Frantically, she flipped back and forth through the pages. There was nothing else written on the paper, except faintly in one corner: ‘Demecharon, Imperial Library.’

‘Demecharon.’ That was the title of an old collection of oral legends. She knew of it only because a children’s puppet play adaptation had been quite popular.

[It doesn’t matter what it takes. As long as I gain the power to command Calypso, the witch.] [That Blake woman keeps spouting nonsense.] [Got Rose back.]

After reading that far, a creeping, vile sensation slithered up from within, choking her breath. It felt as if her throat were being crushed. Ro slammed the diary shut and stood up abruptly. Just then, a knock came at the cabin door.

“Milady. Are you in?”

Ro hastily shoved the ledgers and diary back under the bed. Despite her frantic movements, her voice came out calm and steady.

“What is it?”

“The repairs finished earlier than expected. It’s time for you to return.”

Ro straightened her clothes and opened the cabin door with a composed expression. The officer peeked cautiously into the half-open door but didn’t seem particularly suspicious. His attitude revealed a complacent assumption—that any important information must already have been taken elsewhere. Ro let him glance briefly, then closed the door fully and stepped completely out of the captain’s quarters.

“Must I leave so soon?”

“Yes. Your husband is looking for you.”

“In that case, there’s nothing to be done.”

The officer smiled understandingly at her seemingly reluctant response.

“I understand you must feel stifled without anywhere else to walk, but just a little longer now. We’ll reach Cyclide in three days from here.”

“Three days.”

Beyond the rippling horizon, familiar islands were now coming into view. They were drawing ever closer to the Bilvron Strait. From there, she could find her way to Cyclide’s harbor blindfolded. Suddenly, a salty breeze blew in. Ro gathered her wind-blown hair and tucked it behind her ears. The season, which had felt like early autumn when they first set sail, was now rapidly approaching winter.

She laughed softly, almost like a sigh.

“Well then, I suppose I’m looking forward to it.”

* * *

On the morning of the third day, Ro woke earlier than usual. There was a bustling energy in the air. She quickly dressed and went up to the deck, where a flurry of activity was underway in preparation for disembarkation. Crates of gunpowder, food supplies, and spoils seized from Tilsen’s navy were being systematically unloaded. Soldiers sang Cyclide’s folk songs at the top of their lungs to boost morale.

Oh, Cyclide. Beautiful maiden.

With hair like golden threads.

Sing me a song.

Remember our meetings and farewells.

The days now gone forever.

Until we meet again, goodbye, farewell.

Ro sat on a nearby wooden crate, resting her chin on her hand as she listened to the song. The seagulls’ cries were growing louder—clearly, Cyclide was very near. How long had she been lost in thought? She snapped back to reality as a hand settled on her shoulder. It was Cardier. He smiled and asked,

“Up this early?”

“It was noisy outside. Since I woke early, I thought I’d come out.”

“You could’ve slept longer.”

“I wasn’t particularly sleepy.”

“Not cold? Your clothing’s too light.”

“A little.”

Cardier took off his officer’s coat and draped it over her shoulders. Ro gazed silently at the horizon for a while. Looking back, it had truly been a long and arduous voyage. Normally, returning to port meant rest—but this time was different. The real battle hadn’t even begun yet. Her worries must have shown plainly on her face, for Cardier tilted his head and asked,

“What are you thinking about, with that look?”

“When we return… what then?”

“Hmm. First, we’ll need to visit the naval headquarters.”

“And then?”

“I’ll have to report the situation to His Majesty.”

“And after that?”

“We’ll return to our home in Montrosa.”

“Our home?”

“Yes.”

Cardier intertwined his fingers firmly with hers and pressed a brief kiss to her knuckles. For a brief moment, Ro felt he had changed somehow. She didn’t know what shift had occurred in his heart—but during their separation, he had grown stronger, more resolute.

Perhaps that was why. The ominous premonition growing sharper by the hour, now impossible to dismiss as mere unease. Yet whenever he told her it would be alright, she truly believed that everything ahead would somehow be fine. Almost as if enchanted, Ro opened her mouth.

“What if… I leave you again? What would you do?”