562 Changed Plans

562 Changed Plans

Palace? Lumian hadn’t anticipated gaining information that Lato Guiaro lacked from Nolfi.

After a brief pause, he inquired, “What’s the palace like?”

Was it an ancient relic or the abode of some natural spirit?

Could the sea prayer ritual be tapping into the palace’s inner power?

Nolfi shook her head.

“My mother couldn’t give a detailed description. She just mentioned that the palace is unlike any structure on land. It boasts a peculiar design, with smooth curves and a reflective metallic sheen. Overall, it’s silver-gray.”

Lumian envisioned the palace based on Nolfi’s account, though lacking specifics, he could only conjure an approximate image.

He grinned and remarked, “If that’s truly the sea palace, do you honestly believe you two can bring it down?

“If you struggle against Lato Guiaro and his crew, how do you plan to breach the sea spawn’s defenses? How will you escape the sea’s fury?”

Nolfi paused for a moment before responding, “I have my ways.”

She didn’t elaborate on the method.

Could a Child of the Sea, likely below Sequence 7 in strength, truly destroy the sea palace? An entity capable of unleashing violent storms across the entire sea… Lumian pondered, forming a sudden hypothesis.

Was Nolfi’s confidence rooted in collaboration with others? Had she not returned to Port Santa without adequate preparations?

As Lumian’s mind raced, he shifted his gaze toward Batna.

Batna Comté, who had inadvertently distanced himself from Nolfi by two to three steps, had just re-sheathed his rapier and concealed his revolver.

Sensing Lumian’s scrutiny, he grinned sheepishly and explained, “I’m here for support and to command the ship. You might not know, but I served as a second mate for a while before becoming an adventurer.”

In other words, he implied: “I’m not sure about Nolfi’s plan either. Whether she succeeds or not doesn’t concern me much. I’ve fulfilled my duty as a lover by providing some assistance.”

I can tell that you come from a good background based on your refined attire and grooming… Initially, I thought you ran away from home, enchanted by Gehrman Sparrow’s adventure story, and went to sea to become an adventurer. Now, it seems your family recommended you to be a second mate to gain work experience. After a while, you resigned and chose the path of an adventurer… Lumian was unsure how to assess Batna’s romanticism. Glancing at him, he commented, “Do you realize how dangerous this situation is?”

Batna cleared his throat and replied, “I thought the Children of the Seas wouldn’t be too formidable. Nolfi and I have sparred before.”

Lumian eyed Batna for a couple of seconds before redirecting his gaze to Nolfi.

“What are your plans moving forward?”

Without directly inquiring about hidden collaborators, Lumian circumvented the question, aiming to lower Nolfi’s guard and uncover any hints from her responses.

Nolfi pursed her lips and said, “We’ve been exposed and targeted by the Fisheries Guild. Our original plan is no longer viable. I intend to lay low until the sea prayer ritual concludes.”

“Why not just leave?” Batna interjected, expressing surprise on Lumian’s “behalf.”

He believed that once Nolfi’s motives and identity were revealed, she would promptly abandon this operation and devise an alternative plan for a future sea prayer ritual.

Nolfi fell silent for a moment before revealing, “If the sea prayer ritual succeeds, and I’m still in Port Santa, being a Child of the Sea with a relatively pure bloodline, I should be able to gain a certain boon…”

She paused, briefly gazing at the ground.

“Although it might hasten my transformation into a humanoid lizard, it can also enhance my strength…”

A subtle sorrow lingered in her words.

Batna stared blankly, his mouth agape, but no words escaped him.

Lumian raised his hand, adjusting the golden straw hat on his head. Using a well-known line from the Adventurer series, he remarked, “This is both a blessing and a curse.”

As Louis Berry prepared to depart, Nolfi once again expressed her sincere gratitude.

“I don’t know how to express my gratitude. If you need any help, feel free to come to me.”

“You can find me too,” Batna chimed in.

Caught between staying with Nolfi or leaving Port Santa, he hesitated.

Lumian’s gaze swept across their faces, and he suddenly smiled.

“Coincidentally, I have something for you two to do.”

Nolfi was taken aback but nodded gently.

“Just shoot.”

…

Having bid farewell to Nolfi and Batna, Lumian stealthily returned to Solow Motel from the shadows.

Emerging from the darkness in the corner of the master bedroom, he found the Knight of Swords standing by the curtains, silently observing him under the crimson moonlight.

Why do you always appear like a scene from a ghost story… Is this a Wraith trait or a manifestation of the potion’s influence? Lumian critiqued, expressing gratitude,

“Thank you for your assistance.”

The Knight of Swords remained silent. He looked at Lumian and inquired, “After controlling Lato Guiaro, it seems you’ve altered your original plan?”

Lumian chuckled.

“You’re quite perceptive, but I changed my mind perhaps a little earlier or later than the moment you specified.”

He responded with a hint of a charlatan’s demeanor and elaborated with a smile, “How can an original plan be executed without any changes? That’s not the mark of a Conspirer but an omnipotent and omniscient one.

“During the planning process, one must adjust their approach based on feedback, new information, and changes in the situation, while ensuring the true motive remains intact.”

Hence, concealing his true motives was crucial.

It was akin to the many paths between the starting point and the end, with often only one true conclusion. This point was the most vulnerable to blockages and ambushes.

The Knight of Swords listened quietly and then silently vanished by the window.

Lumian allowed himself to relax, washed up, and retired to bed, sleeping soundly until six in the morning.

Following breakfast provided by the motel, he directed Lugano to take Ludwig to the streets for some snacks.

Observing their departure through the closed door, Lumian returned to the master bedroom, where the curtains still hung. In the dimness, he pulled out the armchair from the desk and settled in.

After an indeterminate period, he suddenly noticed glimmers in the depths of the darkness.

He felt himself suspended in midair, devoid of solid ground beneath his feet or a backrest behind him.

Lumian maintained a stoic expression as he gazed into the profound void with a cosmos-like backdrop. From a distance, Juan Oro, the president of the Fisheries Guild, approached, attired in a formal suit and wielding a walking stick.

Lumian looked at the old man in silence, displaying no surprise, as if anticipating Juan Oro’s arrival.

As the distance closed to a certain extent, Juan Oro’s wrinkles trembled as he uttered in Intisian, “Milo Village was once obliterated, along with the sea spawn that ventured onto the land. Yet, we stand here today.

“As long as the sea endures, as long as the cosmos persists, as long as Port Santa remains a forbidden land for death, we can resurface from the sea’s depths, regardless of the blows we endure or the loss of our descendants. We can rebuild Milo Village and initiate the sea prayer ritual anew.

“This is attested by the clergyman of the Earth Mother Church, their combat ascetics, and their nuns.

“If we, the Children of the Sea, are truly pushed to the edge of a precipice, we possess the courage and determination to drag the enemy into the abyss. This is because we firmly believe in our indestructible spirit and the ability to rebuild our village, preventing its extinction.”

You share all this with me to convey that the Fisheries Guild and Milo Village’s sea spawn are unafraid of threats, possessing both the ability and courage to face powerful enemies. Furthermore, you suggest that the corresponding legacies will endure, resurfacing from the sea in the future. It’s akin to a warning, cautioning me not to go too far. Otherwise, they won’t hesitate to engage in an internecine conflict… Lumian comprehended Juan Oro’s veiled message and chose not to respond. He silently observed the old man, waiting for him to continue.

Juan Oro’s azure eyes reflected the image of the black-haired, green-eyed adventurer Louis Berry. In a resonant voice, he questioned, “What do you and the forces supporting you desire? What is your aim? We won’t tolerate the disruption of the sea prayer ritual, nor will we abandon the foundations laid in Port Santa.”

Realizing that adventurer Louis Berry is not only formidable but also backed by a faction, they must perceive me as a tough adversary. If they were to confront me head-on, they might find it challenging to prevail. Hence, he’s here to negotiate, seeking to exchange concessions for my withdrawal? Is he attempting to assert his bottom line and strength to dissuade me from rash actions, leaving both sides with a way out? Lumian showed no surprise. He glanced around and remarked, “Why isn’t there a chair? I prefer discussing matters while seated.”

After a brief silence from Juan Oro, the armchair reappeared behind Lumian, and he resumed his original posture.

Lumian calmly gazed at Juan Oro, the Fisheries Guild president, and stated, “Would you believe me if I told you I never intended to disrupt the sea prayer ritual?”

“Never intended to disrupt the sea prayer ritual…” Juan Oro repeated, his deep wrinkles furrowing.

Lumian continued, “As long as you’re willing to spare the innocent, like the fake Governor of the Sea, cooperation isn’t out of the question.”

“Cooperation?” Juan Oro couldn’t conceal his astonishment. He scrutinized the adventurer who had forcefully intervened in the Fisheries Guild’s affairs upon arriving at Port Santa. Lumian had stormed the Governor of the Sea’s residence, blown up the Fisheries Guild’s main building, and nearly killed his grandson. He wondered if his hearing had slowed down like the other elders.

A smile gradually spread across Lumian’s face. He leaned back in his chair and snapped his fingers, igniting a crimson flame.

“Yes, cooperation.”

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