Conquest Sea, Moncarlo Archipelago.
Night had fallen, yet the vibrant lights across Moncarlo’s main island continued to illuminate the nightscape. Many streets remained bustling with noise and activity—the city that never slept was still alive and thriving.
On one quiet street far from the busy districts, a carriage rolled forward beneath dim streetlights. The rhythmic clatter of hooves against stone echoed steadily as it made its way to a small, deserted plaza.
“Alright, we’ve arrived. Sit this guy down on that planter edge—I’ll enter his dream.”
Inside the carriage, the woman controlled by the little fox in her dream-walking state gave the instruction to Ed, who promptly responded.
“Understood, Miss Fox.”
At that, Dorothy—controlling the seated Laurent via the marionette mark—had him rise from his seat, step down from the carriage, and walk over to the designated spot to sit. Based on the little fox’s previous instructions, Dorothy had already begun making deductions about the girl’s capabilities.
“If I remember correctly, last year this little fox could only extract memories when dream-entering others, and her dream-walking was extremely clumsy. Now, though? She’s much more practiced and smooth. I’d wager she’s advanced in the past half-year. Makes sense—she and Gregor have been hunting in the Dreamscape using the dragon domain. That would accelerate spiritual accumulation. So long as her rituals went smoothly, advancing would be natural...”
“At this point, she’s probably a White Ash on the Dream Devourer Path… a true Nightmare. She seems to now have the ability to directly hypnotize people and invade their dreams without routing through the dreamscape. But even this power has limits—she likely needs to be within a certain proximity to her physical body, and can only invade targets she’s actively sensing. So it’s not without constraints...”
Although Dorothy had successfully implanted a marionette mark in Laurent, she never dared to use it directly in front of Edward, a Crimson-rank Chalice. Instead of activating the mark during Laurent’s audience with Edward, she waited until he was asleep. Then, using the mark, she had him walk out of the guarded zone to meet the little fox in person—allowing her to use her ability to invade his dream and steal memories about Edward.
“The subject is in place. I’m going in now. Just wait here.”
Said the fox-controlled woman. In response, Dorothy had Ed say:
“Miss Fox, if possible, I’d like to observe the contents of Laurent’s dream more directly.”
“Directly observe? No way. I can’t bring you in. I’m the only one who can enter his dream. You’ll have to wait out here.”
The fox responded bluntly. But Ed, smiling gently, countered.
“I don’t need to join the dream physically. I can perceive what you perceive—through your senses.”
“What? You can see what I see in a dream? That kind of ability exists? Isn’t that dangerous?”
The fox sounded a bit worried. Ed reassured her.
“There’s no danger. You just need to say a simple prayer to Aka before entering. Through Aka, I will see what you see. You remember how to pray to Aka, right?”
“A prayer to Aka… so They can do that too, huh… Alright. I’ll give it a try.”
Muttering thoughtfully, the fox-controlled woman reclined in her seat and shut her eyes. Moments later, her breathing settled into a steady rhythm—Dorothy knew this meant the fox’s consciousness had withdrawn from the host and the dream-walking state had ended.
Elsewhere, atop the rooftop of a small building near the plaza, the real Little Fox—Saria—opened her eyes. Cloaked in a hooded mantle, she gazed downward. A black cat, who had been waiting silently by her side, immediately approached. She seemed about to speak to the cat, but it shook its head and signaled for her not to talk. It then glanced down at the seated Laurent, urging her to proceed.
Seeing the cat’s gesture, Saria held her tongue, turned toward Laurent, and began her prayer—though not without a moment’s hesitation.
“Praying to Aka… I hope this doesn’t backfire... No, it should be safe. That black dog’s prayed dozens of times and never had a problem… safety should be fine...”
“The Boundless Above of This World… The Convergence of Endless Fate… The Gate and Key of Infinite Truths… The Great Aka, Recorder of All Things."
As she prayed, Saria activated her ability. Her gaze locked onto Laurent, sitting quietly in the distance under the moonlight. Her consciousness dispersed—and began to invade the sleeping man’s dream.
At the same time, the information channel Dorothy had established kicked in. She began to receive all of Saria’s sensory input—including what she would perceive in the dream.
Dorothy, through that channel, watched Saria fall into Laurent’s dream. After a cascade of strange, shifting colors, the surrounding environment stabilized.
And before both Dorothy and Saria… a scene unfolded—atop city walls.
Upon the city walls—armed with countless cannons and built of thick, reinforced stone—the crossed twin-blade banner, which had evolved from Moncarlo’s pirate flag, fluttered in the sea breeze. City guards patrolled back and forth along the ramparts. One side of the wall overlooked the vast ocean; the other faced the towering Sovereign Sea Fortress.
Laurent stood atop the wall, gazing into the distance through a telescope.
In her white fox form, Saria appeared on the rampart’s floor. After a brief scan of the dream realm, she quickly spotted Laurent nearby. Without hesitation, the little fox leapt up onto the parapet and positioned herself in front of his telescope. The dream-projection of Laurent lowered the telescope and looked at her with a calm expression.
“What a cute fox. Lovely fur. If I skinned you and presented it to Father, I’m sure he’d be delighted.”
As he seemed to be preparing to act, the little fox hurriedly interjected.
“Hey—hold it right there. I’m here to ask you something.”
“Oh? A talking fox, asking questions? Interesting… go on, what do you want to know?”
Laurent replied with detached curiosity as he put down his telescope. The little fox got straight to the point.
“Does Edward Gibbs have some kind of powerful detection method? One strong enough to uncover even Crimson-rank Shadow Beyonders?”
“Yes. My siblings and I grew up on tales of Father’s exploits. It’s said that during his sea-faring days, he collected all sorts of strange treasures. Among them, there’s supposedly a basin he found on a mist-shrouded island. With it, Father could uncover hidden threats. It’s said he once used it to detect and expel a powerful assassin. If he chooses to search, there’s nothing on Moncarlo’s islands that can escape his sight.”
Laurent explained flatly, and upon hearing this, Saria’s ears perked up. She quickly followed up.
“Then what does this magical basin look like? Where is it kept now? And how is it used?”
“No idea.”
“What? None of them? You must know at least one of those things.”
She frowned at his completely blank reply. But Laurent remained calm.
“No idea. Not a bit. By the time I was born, Father had already settled in Moncarlo for many years. His pirate days are more legend to us than memory. It’s true he has a treasury filled with the treasures he plundered, but only he knows where it is. Only he can open it. All we children ever get are the scraps he chooses to reward us with, now and then.”
“Tch… So you really don’t know.”
The little fox’s face grew troubled as she realized she was getting nowhere. She tried rephrasing her questions—asking whether anyone else might know the location of Edward’s vault—but every answer was the same: total ignorance. It seemed Edward guarded his core secrets so tightly that not even his favorite children knew anything.
“What do I do now? That old pirate’s even keeping his own son completely in the dark... How are we supposed to gather intel on him like this?”
The little fox mumbled while sitting atop the parapet. Just then, Ed’s voice—or more precisely, Dorothy’s voice through Ed—resonated in her mind.
“Try focusing on more detailed, deeper memories. For example: when he last met with his father—what did they talk about? There might be something to glean from that.”
“As far as I know, this Tenth Young Master only just recently reported to Edward about the church nun’s visit. Since it was so recent, he should remember it quite clearly. Have him recall that scene.”
Dorothy conveyed her suggestion through the consultation link. She also hoped to glean Edward’s true attitude toward the nun’s visit—perhaps there was an opportunity to be found through Vania.
“The meeting earlier today?”
Saria looked puzzled but followed the suggestion.
“Show me the scene from when you last reported to your father.”
Laurent nodded.
Suddenly, the dream realm warped violently—the fortress and sea twisted and dissolved, colors swirling together like smeared paint. Eventually, the chaos faded and resolved into a new setting: a towering audience hall.
The dimly lit hall was illuminated only by a few burning braziers. Its stone walls were lined with specimens of strange sea creatures. Suspended from the ceiling was an enormous skull, seven to eight meters long, its species unknown. Below it stretched a long red carpet leading up to an ornate wooden throne.
Seated upon the throne was a figure.
Dressed in a navy admiral’s uniform of the Continental style, the man wore an air of faded grandeur. His thin, gnarled fingers bore a dozen gemstone rings, and his withered face was covered in sparse whiskers. Beneath his old-fashioned naval cap lay a skull-like visage with sunken sockets and murky, lifeless pupils. He sat unmoving, staring ahead—at a respectfully bowing Laurent.
“This... This is Edward? He’s even older than I imagined...”
The little fox muttered in astonishment. Dorothy, too, understood from this image that Edward, despite being a Crimson-rank Beyonder, was nearing the very end of his unnaturally long life—over three centuries old.
Laurent recreated the scene from his memory, and soon, it began to play out exactly as he had recalled. Dorothy saw the part she had skipped over that night—Laurent was reporting the day’s intelligence to General Yang in front of Edward.
“That’s all… Sister Vania has been arranged to stay at the Windsong Hotel. According to the itinerary, they will hold the sacred relic exhibition in the next day or two, and then leave Moncarlo. The Hookshark Gang, who were caught red-handed in the human Chalice-drug trade, has already been dealt with. We’re now considering whether to pursue the responsibilities of their protectors. Based on our intelligence, several city guards are highly suspect.”
Kneeling in the grand hall, the Laurent from memory reported the events of the day to Edward and sought his opinion. After taking a breath, Edward spoke in an aged voice.
“Just arrest a token figure… make an example of them… no need to blow it out of proportion…”
“Yes, sir…”
Laurent nodded in response. Then Edward, sitting on the throne, glanced at his son and slowly continued.
“Also… did that Church nun… speak with you about anything else? Besides the pilgrimage?”
“Hmm… Father, Sister Vania kept our conversation focused on the pilgrimage and Moncarlo’s development. Nothing else of note…”
Laurent recalled the scene from earlier in the day before answering Edward. Edward then slightly opened his eyes and spoke again.
“She… didn’t bring up any topics related to me? Didn’t request to see me? Or inquire about my situation?”
“No, Sister Vania showed great respect when mentioning you. There were no actions suggesting she was trying to pry into your affairs,” Laurent replied.
Hearing this, Edward let out a long breath of relief.
“All right, you may withdraw. Let the one waiting outside come in…”
“Yes, Father.”
Responding to Edward, Laurent turned and exited the audience chamber. After stepping through the half-open doors, he saw a man cloaked entirely in a deep blue hooded mantle standing there. Edward glanced at the man and said directly.
“Go on in. Father is waiting for you.”
“Heh, thanks for the notice, Tenth Young Master.”
The man in the hooded cloak smiled slightly after hearing Laurent’s words. With a faintly disdainful tone, he offered a casual greeting and stepped into the audience chamber, which was then shut tightly behind him.
“Who is he?”
Upon witnessing this scene, the little fox asked the dream-Laurean beside her. The dream-Laurent replied.
“He’s one of Father’s honored guests, but I don’t know exactly who he is.”
“Honored guest?”
“Yes, he suddenly appeared in Moncarlo a little over a week ago. For some reason, he held a token with extraordinary spirituality from Father’s pirate days. Using that, he passed through all the security layers and was granted an audience with Father. Since then, Father summons him nearly every day to discuss matters.”
Laurent continued answering the little fox, who then pressed further.
“Do you know what they talk about?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t. Each time they speak, they refuse anyone else’s presence—even my siblings and I aren’t allowed in. Ever since that first meeting, Father’s condition has seemed a little unstable, so we’re quite curious what exactly they’re discussing.”
Laurent replied frankly to the little fox. Hearing his response, Dorothy’s brow furrowed slightly, then she instructed Laurent to continue being questioned.
“Then… have you seen what that token looks like?”
“I have.”
As he said that, an object materialized before him—a severed braid of hair, dried, messy, and filthy. Woven into it was a shriveled, dead little snake, its body threaded through the hair and its jaws clamped firmly on one end. On the snake’s head was a simple sigil: the symbol of the “Chalice.”
Chalice and serpent… Upon seeing the token, Dorothy’s brow twitched slightly. She immediately instructed the little fox to ask.
“Where is this honored guest now?”
“He’s in a secret prison outside the castle. After their first meeting, Father ordered him detained there and placed under strict surveillance. We are only allowed to escort him into the fortress through a secret passage when Father wishes to see him alone. Father seems very wary of him.”
“Then… do you know the location where he’s being held?”
“Of course I do.”