Lentina, capital of the Principality of Selgu, along the coast of the Conquest Sea.
In the vast coastal city of Lentina, inside a dimly lit room hidden within the alleys and nestled in the base of the White Craftsmen’s Guild, an old man cloaked plainly and with a scarf covering his face sat silently. On the wide tea table before him was a humming telegraph machine, steadily churning out a long strip of paper with dots and dashes sketched across its surface.
Atop the desk cluttered with the telegraph machine stood a strange, monkey-like but not quite monkey creature—about twenty to thirty centimeters tall, covered in black fur, with sharp fangs, wide white eyes, and large ears. The little creature scratched its ears while holding two phantom chains that extended to bind two pale ghosts floating in midair. These ghosts appeared to have been office clerks in life, scholarly in appearance, but now stared in dread at the paper streaming from the telegraph machine, closely analyzing every symbol.
As time passed, the machine eventually fell silent, the paper run complete. The two spirits began to murmur and discuss its contents. Seeing this, Edward spoke slowly.
“Push them. Hurry up.”
At his command, the little monster screeched and sprang forward, slapping each ghost once. The phantoms twisted and shrieked, then reformed and frantically resumed deciphering the telegram. Once the full message was interpreted, one ghost possessed the creature, prompting it to grab pen and paper and rapidly transcribe a reply on the tea table. Soon, it handed the written telegram to Edward.
Edward quickly scanned the contents. After reading the spirit-translated message, his expression turned intrigued.
“Information on the Abyssal Church and Afterbirth Cult? Abyssal intel? How interesting... This little thief’s asking price is certainly bold…”
Contemplating, Edward reached for pen and paper and began drafting a reply. The creature, still possessed by the clerk ghost, eagerly began tapping out the response on the telegraph machine.
“Little thief, your target is the Abyssal Church? As far as I know, there’s no great grudge between Blackdream and the Abyss. You aren’t the Moth-Chaser from that day. Who exactly are you?”
Dorothy smiled faintly at the reply and had her corpse marionette respond at once.
“Who I am? What my goal is? That’s irrelevant, Captain. It doesn’t affect our transaction. You needn’t know anything beyond this deal.”
She waited again. After Dorothy’s body enjoyed two cookies at a café and admired the view, the telegraph machine on the tea table finally rang once more.
“You want me to use something the Abyss gave me to deal with the Abyss? That’s absurd. They still possess that item—you think I’d risk angering them for your tiny piece when they hold the bulk of it?”
Hearing the machine, Dorothy mentally translated the message, then swiftly made her corpse marionette respond.
“Captain, since you still place your hopes on the Abyss, why not ask them for another copy? As I recall, the Abyss representative wasn’t even on your island during the incident. He doesn’t know what really happened. You say it was stolen—will they believe you? Don’t forget, you’re a greedy pirate. They may think you’re trying to extort another fifty gold bricks…
“And even if they do believe you, what obligation do they have to replenish your stock? They already got what they wanted. You still have blackmail in their hands. What right does a traitor have to demand more? Even if they’re miraculously generous and give you more, what price will they demand? With just fifty bricks, they forced you into a compromising deal that could destroy your legacy. If you go back asking for more, what terrifying things might they make you do?
“Captain, as a traitor, you’ll never be truly trusted by the Abyssal Church… Even if you grovel and flatter them in the future, it won’t change a thing. I believe you know this yourself…”
With a faint smile on her lips, Dorothy had her corpse marionette tap out the response. She knew Edward feared the Abyssal Church more than he feared her. Unless absolutely desperate, he would never turn to them for help again.
Back on his sofa, Edward stared at the newly translated telegram. His face darkened, brows heavy. Clearly, Dorothy had judged him correctly—he would not seek out the Swordscale again unless forced.
If Edward went back to request another Immortal Spring from the Abyssal Church, who knew what price they might name? They could even use mystical means to enslave him. Compared to that, Dorothy’s price—intelligence and mystical texts—was far easier to stomach.
“Heh… What an informed little thief…”
Edward gave a bitter chuckle. His expression lightened slightly as he realized the other party knew more about him than he’d anticipated. She had fully grasped his weaknesses and bottom lines.
In a negotiation, information was power. Knowledge of expected returns, minimum terms, urgency—all were critical. The one with better intel held the upper hand. At present, Edward only knew that a mysterious thief, not from the Abyss nor Blackdream, was on the other end. But Dorothy knew far more about him.
With the imbalance clear, Dorothy held all the bargaining power. Edward quickly relented to her terms.
“Very well… I accept your price. I’ll trade the Afterbirth Cult and Abyssal Church intel for that item. If the Abyssal Church contacts me again with a mission, I’ll inform you immediately. But before that, you must give me five first. Once I return, I’ll try to gather some mystical texts for you.”
Edward’s reply activated Dorothy’s telegraph. She nodded in satisfaction and had her corpse marionette tap out her final message.
“Excellent. Once you’ve prepared the item, send it to the designated account within the White Craftsmen’s Guild. I will likewise use the Guild as intermediary to deliver what you need. This time, make sure you retrieve it in person—don’t give anyone else the chance…”
Dorothy and Edward exchanged a few final details about the transaction. Once everything was clarified, they ended the communication.
After finalizing the terms of the transaction, Edward leaned back on the narrow room’s sofa, his eyes resting on the pile of telegrams on the tea table in front of him, falling into deep thought.
“That little thief… just as I suspected, they’re a third force separate from Blackdream and the Abyss. We were all played by them back then… I still don’t understand how they managed to acquire so much valuable intelligence without making a sound, orchestrating all of this so precisely…
“These daring little thieves may deserve death, but what I didn’t expect is—they didn’t steal my Waters of Youth for themselves, nor to target me. Their main targets were actually the Afterbirth and the Abyss? So they wanted the Spring just to trade it with me for intel on those two? That’s truly unexpected… I wonder how the Abyss managed to earn themselves such enemies.
“They must be trying to study the Abyss and the Afterbirth further. If they want intelligence, they must intend to continue sabotaging the Abyss… And the Abyss, which holds information about that church nun, is also a major threat to me. If I can use these little thieves to quietly make trouble for the Abyss, that serves my interests too.
“The Church, the thieves, the Abyss… maybe even Blackdream… Right now, I’m caught between all of them. But the thieves and the Church are clearly enemies of the Abyss. If I handle this properly, I might not only regain my youth from the thief—something that was mine to begin with—but perhaps even obtain more from the Abyss.”
Seated on the sofa, Edward meticulously calculated in his heart. He had long grown used to contemplating how to leverage the current relationships between factions to benefit himself. After realizing that the thief who stole the Waters of Youth wasn’t targeting him personally, but the Abyss, he didn’t feel such hatred toward them anymore. If the Abyssal Church ever used Vania as leverage to coerce him into something dangerous, he might even turn that little thief against them as a countermeasure.
After finishing his considerations, Edward swiftly cleaned up all the tape and telegrams on-site and erased any evidence. Then, he waved to the little monster tormenting the ghosts at the tea table. The creature immediately opened its mouth and inhaled all the floating spirits, then dove under Edward’s cloak and followed him out of the room.
Meanwhile, in Adria, after finishing the telegraph exchange with Edward, Dorothy had her corpse marionette clean up the scene, then quietly left the White Craftsmen’s Guild. She paid around a hundred pounds in communication fees and left nothing else behind.
“Heh… Edward’s probably guessing right now that my real target is the Abyssal Church and the Afterbirth Cult. That’s fine. It’s better to show him a bit of my ‘true intentions’. He’s more at ease dealing with people whose goals he can somewhat guess.”
Sitting in a café chair, sipping tea, Dorothy mused to herself. Her main purpose in dealing with Edward was to acquire mystical texts related to the Chalice to replenish her spirituality, but when naming her price, she didn’t mention the Chalice directly. Instead, she requested mystical texts related to the Abyssal Church and the Afterbirth Cult—intentionally misleading Edward into thinking her real goal was the Abyssal Church. The theft of the Waters of Youth would then seem like a ploy to coerce him into cooperating against the Abyss.
Of course, Dorothy wasn’t entirely uninterested in the Abyss or the Afterbirth either. All signs so far suggested the Afterbirth Cult was plotting something, and they seemed especially fixated on Vania. If she could truly get some intel on the Abyss or the Afterbirth from Edward, that would be all the better.
After finalizing business with Edward, Dorothy rested briefly. Then she brought out her Literary Sea Logbook and laid it open on the table, flipping to the communication page belonging to a certain gear-person. After a moment’s thought, she picked up her pen and wrote.
“Hey? You there? Had lunch yet?”
“Doing experiments, no time. Just replaced my cogs a few days ago. Tightened it this morning, so I won’t feel hungry all day. So? What is it now?”
The neatly printed reply appeared almost instantly below her writing. Seeing it, Dorothy continued writing.
“Nothing special. Just the usual—wondering how your asset evaluation’s going? Do I have enough for collateral?”
“Oh, that. I had my people speed up the calculations. It’s mostly done. All together, with a bit of rounding up, it totals about twenty-seven thousand pounds. Still short thirteen thousand to rent the divine item~”
Beverly’s reply floated onto the page. Seeing the result, Dorothy felt a slight chill in her heart and scribbled back furiously.
“Only twenty-seven thousand? You didn’t miscalculate, right? Mazarr is a royal heir—you’re saying all his assets only add up to that much?”
“For a personal royal family member, twenty-seven thousand pounds is a lot. Think about it—the Baruch royal family has a huge number of princes. The wealth gets divided bit by bit among them. Mazarr’s already getting one of the larger shares for his status. What more do you want?”
Beverly’s sharp response made Dorothy pause. She thought about all those princes and princesses in Addus and eventually accepted the reasoning. After hesitating for a moment, she continued.
“Thirteen thousand short… I really can’t come up with that much on short notice… Come on, Bev, we’ve known each other a long time. Can’t you lower it a little more? It’s just collateral anyway. You already reduced a lot. A bit more won’t hurt. I promise to return everything in perfect condition afterward.”
Dorothy wrote with a bargaining tone, and not long after, the reply surfaced.
“Fine~ Since you put it that way, I’ll adjust the price again~ Previously it was 10k rent and 30k collateral. Now let’s make it 13k rent and 17k collateral—30k total. That’s already symbolic. Any lower would be unreasonable.”
Dorothy breathed a sigh of relief. Beverly had only raised the rent by three thousand and significantly lowered the collateral—well within Dorothy’s current reach. With the assets from Mazarr, she only needed to contribute an extra three thousand pounds, which could easily be handled with some unused mystical artifacts as collateral.
“Deal. Then please get your divine artifact ready. I may come to collect it soon.”
Dorothy wrote decisively. The response came just as quickly.
“Sure~ As soon as you pay, we can deliver the item to any of our major city branches. Rental period is one month. As long as you don’t damage it or use it for anything that harms the Guild, you can use it however you want… Oh, right—profaning the Core of Order is also forbidden. Unless, of course, you can afford a fine in the tens of millions of pounds.”
“So in your Guild… even crimes like profaning a major deity can be waived with a fine? Though that fine… even a mainland empire’s treasury wouldn’t survive it…”
Dorothy mentally grumbled while reading Beverly’s reply. After a bit of thought, she continued writing.
“By the way, do you guys… have any method for creating divine artifacts?”
“Huh? Creating divine artifacts?”
“Yes. Like praying for a deity’s blessing to create a divine artifact. Divine artifacts shouldn’t be something that can be created so easily, right? There must be… some kind of specific ritual behind it…”
She wrote this in Beverly’s communication page. After multiple failed experiments trying to create divine artifacts on her own, Dorothy had come to realize—she must be missing some crucial ritual in the creation process.