Shrouded Seascape

Chapter 240. Voyage

Chapter 240. Voyage

TW/CW: Suicide

Charles soon came face to face with the Pope's seemingly benevolent smile on the stone statue. The statue moved, and the Pope's gaze shifted to the papers on Charles' desk.

With a lift of his hand and a simple gesture, the papers flew into his hands.

"You're also monitoring the governors' conflict? What's your view on their current situation?" the Pope asked.

Charles retorted, "Shouldn't I be directing the question at you? After all, you're the one backing Swann."

The Pope casually discarded the papers with a nonchalant attitude. "Child, you don't trust me; you never did and still don't. And what's the outcome of it? All your preparations have come to nothing. I've told you this isn't your concern."

Evidently, the Pope was referring to Charles' naval preparations and Hope Island's strategic plans. They clearly hadn't escaped his notice.

"You mentioned that this was part of the plan," Charles pressed on. "What exactly is your endgame? I don't think we share the same goals."

As the Pope shook his head, dust motes fluttered down his stony form.

"That's a crucial plan of the Order. Unless you are willing to join our faith, I can't reveal the plan to you. Remember, our one and only common goal is the quest for the Land of Light."

Charles let out a scoff internally. He knew the Pope would respond this way, so continuing the conversation seemed pointless.

"For what reason did you come here?"

"The battle has ended, and your unease should be settled now? It's time to set sail in search of the next island."

Charles' mind raced rapidly as he pondered the situation. Swann will likely lay low for a while now that his plans have been disrupted by Julio. Even if he had time, he would probably focus on revenge against Julio. The immediate threat to Hope Island is likely averted.

"I'll set sail after handling some matters," Charles confirmed.

"Great," the Pope replied, "Governor Charles, please focus your efforts on the places that are needed and leave other matters to others. God loves the world. May the holy light of the Light God illuminate your soul."

After leaving his parting words, the Pope reverted to becoming an inert statue and was carried away by his followers.

Charles was puzzled over the Pope's series of movements. His actions didn't seem indicative of someone harboring ambitions to conquer the seascape.

Swann's aggressive tactics were bound to provoke resistance from other powers. In the current situation, no party seemed to gain any advantage.

However, the Pope was right about one thing. Charles needed to resume his voyage. He had been staying on land for far too long this time.

If the Foundation staff he had encountered hadn't lied, the exit to the surface world awaited him at the Foundation's main island.

"Lily, send your friends out to inform the others to get prepared. We depart in three days," Charles instructed.

The governor's decision to set sail again was unsurprising to the people of Hope Island; it would have been bigger news if Charles suddenly stopped sailing.

Many looked on with envy at those selected. Just days ago, they had been sharing drinks and bragging about their sea sailing days in the bars, but now they were going to be part of the Narwhale's crew.

Apart from Weister, two other fortunate souls were chosen—a Second Engineer and a First Engineer.

The previous First Engineer of the Narwhale had been promoted to the Chief Engineer. Everyone's faces beamed with smiles, and the corners of their lips had never drooped.

The only reason for their joy was the stacks of Echo that Governor Charles had promised them. Their pay would be thrice the amount of other exploration vessels. Moreover, if they helped Charles achieve his goal, they would be able to get a house in the island's central district.

Meanwhile, James stood at the docks. His face was a complicated mix of emotions as he watched his former companions board the ship. He used to be one of them, but now he could only watch from the sidelines.

Pat!

A steel hand clapped on his broad shoulder. "Some people are getting restless on the island. Keep an eye on things here, and don't let them abuse the system. I trust no one else with this task."

"You can count on me, Captain. As long as I live, I'll carry out the duties you entrusted me with!" James declared with firm resolute.

Charles smiled, patted James's sturdy chest, and turned toward the Narwhale.

"Hoist the anchor! Embark!" Charles commanded.

The sailors strained to turn the anchor windlass, and the heavy, rusted iron chain was slowly pulled up from the depths.

With a deep bellow, the Narwhale's horn sounded, and she embarked toward the dark seas with her crew on the deck.

***

"Newspapers! Newspapers! Major news in the seascape! First peace talks between Governor Julio and Governor Swann! Wanna know the details of their discussions? Grab your morning paper now! Only at two Echo! Newspapers!"

A newsboy in a cap waved newspapers in the air, his voice ringing out in the streets.

"Give me one," a woman requested; her voice was husky and tainted with deep sorrow.

"Aye, miss. Here's your paper. That would be two Echo in total," the newsboy said as he handed a fresh, ink-scented newspaper to Margaret, who was cloaked head-to-toe in a long robe.

"Miss, you are so pretty! You're the prettiest person I've ever seen," the newsboy complimented before hopping away.

A trace of bitterness flickered across Margaret's face.

"Pretty? What use is there being pretty? Can it help me avenge my family?" Margaret muttered to herself.

After a couple of seconds, she then slowly began to read the newspapers. As she skimmed through the paper, her expression darkened with every flip of the page.

Governor Julio had indeed sat down for peace talks. Her only hope of revenge was dashed. The memory of her father and brother sacrificing themselves to save her was like a sharp blade piercing through her heart.

"Father... Brother..." Margaret murmured and bit down on her lower lip as she walked toward her residence.

If only she had sought Charles' help then, perhaps things would have been different. Perhaps her father and brother would still be alive.

However, because of her foolish, unrequited affection, she ran back home and totally forgot her original purpose of traveling to Hope Island.

Now, she was wracked with with guilt. It felt as though she was the sole reason for the Cavendish's current situation.

"Why... Why did it turn out like this? Why didn't I agree to Father's marriage proposal? Perhaps if our family had an ally, things would have turned out differently."

Margaret dragged her heavy feet as she entered the small building she rented. She felt lost and unsure of what to do next or how to face her predicament.

Almost instinctively, she headed to her mother's room, suddenly yearning for her embrace. She wanted to hide in that warm hug and never come out.

Walking along the chilly corridor, Margaret arrived before a bedroom door. Her soft lips quivered as she softly called out, "Mother, what should we do next?"

As the princess of Whereto, she was unaccustomed to such uncertainty. She had no one to guide her in the next step in dire situations.

Her question was met with silence; the room beyond the door was eerily quiet as if there was no one within.

"Mother...I'm so scared. Are you in there? Can you... can you hug me?" Margaret called out again as her slender fingers hesitantly reached for the door, only to find it slightly ajar.

The door swung open with a creak. The sight that met Margaret sent a jolt of electricity through her body, and the surge of emotions overwhelmed her in an instant.

Her mother, Kalytha, was lying on her side on the bed. Blood was dripping out of the open bullet wound in her temple, and a revolver hung loosely in her hand.