Chapter 56: A Battle Royale at Sea

Chapter Fifty-Six
A Battle Royale at Sea

Inside the fairly spacious living room, Anna and Joyce, having ended their embrace, sat down on separate sofas, with Anna’s parents between them.

Joyce sighed with visible satisfaction.

“Steam above, how fortunate I am to have returned alive, and to see Anna again.”

“My poor Joyce, what exactly happened to you?” Anna could no longer restrain herself and asked with concern.

Joyce glanced at his fiancée. His expression grew heavy.

“Even now, I still feel afraid. I keep waking again and again from nightmares. Five days after the Clover left Port Caesar, we encountered pirates. Terrible pirates. The only fortunate thing was that their leader was Nast.”

“The great pirate who calls himself the King of the Five Seas?” Anna’s father, Mr. Wayne, asked in astonishment.

Although Joyce had arrived to visit half an hour earlier, he had never gone into detail about what he had experienced. He had been timid, uneasy, and restless, and only after Anna returned and gave him that embrace did he seem truly to have escaped from the disaster.

“Yes. Nast, the King of the Five Seas, claims to be a descendant of the Solomon Empire and observes the virtue of not killing captives. Because of that, we only lost our money. We did not lose our lives. His men even left us with enough food.”

Joyce recalled what had happened over those days.

His body gradually began trembling, but he still forced himself to describe the deepest, darkest nightmare.

“I did not lose too much property. I originally thought the misfortune had already passed. But in the voyage that followed, the passengers and crew of the Clover broke into fierce internal strife. It began as arguments, then fighting, then revolvers were drawn, straight swords raised, and people started killing one another…

“During those days, everything I saw was blood. People around me fell one after another, their eyes wide open as though they would never close, while limbs, hearts, and intestines were sprayed all over the floor.

“We, those of us unwilling to become beasts—the part that still retained reason—had nowhere to hide and no road by which to flee. Around us was the deep-blue surf, the boundless ocean… Some wept, some begged, some sold their bodies, yet their heads were still hung from the mast.

“Anna, I was full of despair then. I thought I would never see you again. Fortunately, even in such a nightmare, heroes still appeared. The captain led us to hide in the sturdy lower decks. Relying on the fresh water and food prepared in advance, we held on until those madmen reached their limit. And Mr. Tris encouraged us. Bravely taking the lead, he led us in an attack against those murderers…

“After a bloody battle I will never forget for as long as I live, we survived. But the Clover had also deviated from its route, and only one-third of the original sailors were left.”

…

While describing the most terrifying and darkest side of the human heart, Joyce could not help thinking of that “hero,” the hero who called himself Tris.

He had a round, kindly face. His personality was shy, almost like a girl’s, and he always liked staying in a corner. Only those who were very familiar with him could understand just how talkative he actually was.

Yet it was precisely this unremarkable boy who had, in the worst and most desperate moment, stood firmly before everyone.

“Oh, Steam above, my poor Joyce. What a heartbreaking experience you had. Thank God, worship God—He allowed us not to be separated.”

Tears circled in Anna’s eyes as she repeatedly drew the triangular Sacred Emblem of Steam and Machinery over her chest.

Joyce revealed a faintly pale smile.

“This is our reward for piety. Later, the Clover experienced storms, lost its way, and broke through trial after trial before finally arriving at Enmat Port.

“Because such a serious blood case had occurred aboard the ship, we survivors were detained by the police and questioned separately. We had no chance to send telegrams home. Once everything ended—this morning—I immediately borrowed some money from a friend and returned by steam train. Thank God for allowing me to step once more onto Tingen soil, and to see you all again.”

At that point, he looked at his fiancée with some puzzlement.

“Anna, when you saw me, I could feel your joy and surprise. But what I do not understand is this: after you stepped off the carriage, why did you rush to the door so excitedly? Heh. I had originally planned to give you a tremendous surprise.”

Thinking back on her own earlier experience, Anna still sounded as though she could not believe it.

“There is nothing to hide, Joyce. Because I was worried about you, I went today to the only Divination Club in Tingen for a divination. And that diviner—no, that Seer—told me that my fiancé had already returned, and was inside the house with a toy windmill.”

“What?”

The Waynes and Joyce spoke at the same time.

Anna covered her face briefly and shook her head.

“I cannot believe what I encountered today either. But it truly happened. Steam above, perhaps miracles really do exist in this world.

“Joyce, that Seer asked for your name, features, address, and date of birth. He said he would perform an astrolabe divination. Afterward, he asked me whether the house with a toy windmill belonged to my family or yours. Once I confirmed it, he said: Congratulations, Miss Anna. Your fiancé has already returned. He is at your home. Do not question him about what he experienced. Give him an embrace and comfort.”

“God…”

Joyce felt this matter was simply unimaginable and incomprehensible.

“Could he know me? Did someone send him a telegram? Is he very familiar with the police at Enmat Port? No. That still cannot explain it. How could he know I came to your home? How could he possibly be certain you would go for a divination? Did you make an appointment in advance?”

“No. I chose him on the spot,” Anna answered blankly.

“Perhaps a good diviner needs to possess a wealth of information, even if it cannot be used in the short term. Or perhaps divination truly does contain something miraculous,” Anna’s father, Mr. Wayne, said with a sigh, summarizing the matter. “In the known history of more than a thousand years, and in the less clear Fourth Epoch, divination has always existed and has never disappeared. I believe there must be a reason for that.”

Joyce shook his head slightly, then asked, “What is that diviner’s name?”

Anna thought for a moment.

“Klein Moretti.”

…

Inside the Divination Club’s reception hall.

Because Klein had controlled the volume of his voice, and because Angelica tactfully had not approached, she had only seen Anna leave as though her soul had been lost. She had only seen shock and bewilderment written across the woman’s face.

Angelica walked in small steps to the sofa and asked curiously, “A good result?”

She did not dare ask what the result was, afraid of violating the unspoken rules among diviners.

“Mm.”

Klein nodded once, took three copper coins from his trouser pocket, and said, “One-eighth of one soli is one and a half pence?”

“Yes.”

Angelica glanced at the copper coins and saw that one was a one-penny coin and two were half-pennies. She hurriedly pushed them back.

“That is half a penny too much.”

Klein smiled and lightly pressed downward.

“Thank you for taking care of my client. She gave me a tip, so naturally I should give you one as well.”

And this is also thanks for your recommendation…

He silently added that sentence in his heart.

“All right.”

For reasons she could not explain, Angelica felt somewhat afraid of Klein. Since the reason was suitable, she no longer refused.

Klein returned to the meeting room, believing that more querents would soon follow.

However, all the way until five forty, he still failed to receive a second customer.

This was not because the Divination Club’s business was poor, but because most people arrived with a clear target. They directly named the diviner they wanted.

“They should have come through recommendations. They had already decided who to find before arriving… In short, my reputation is still too low…”

Klein mocked himself in game terminology.

He drained his third refill of Sibe black tea, put on his half-top hat, picked up his silver-inlaid black cane, and slowly walked out of the meeting room.

Remembering Glacis’s request, Angelica hurriedly came up to him.

“Mr. Moretti, when will you next come to the club? Mr. Glacis hopes to thank you in person.”

“As long as I am free, I will come. If fate allows us to meet, then he will surely meet me,” Klein answered in the tone of a mystic charlatan, feeling as though he were getting into character.

Then, ignoring Angelica’s reaction, he left the Divination Club and returned home by public carriage.

After entering the front door, Klein saw Benson reading a newspaper, while Melissa, by the evening sunlight, was assembling something from scattered gears, bearings, springs, and other parts.

“Good afternoon. Did Mrs. Shod come to visit?” Klein asked in a relaxed tone.

Benson did not put down the newspaper. He only lifted his head.

“Mrs. Shod sat with us for a quarter of an hour. She brought some gifts, was very satisfied with the muffins and lemon cakes we prepared, and invited us to visit her home when we have the chance. She is a kind, polite lady, and very good at conversation.”

“The only problem is that their whole family believes in the Lord of Storms. They think girls should not go to school and should only receive home education,” Melissa muttered softly.

It was clear that she was rather dissatisfied with this.

“No need to care too much. As long as she does not interfere with us, she is still a good neighbor,” Klein said with a smile, comforting his sister.

The Loen Kingdom was a country of many faiths. Unlike the Feysac Empire to the north, which obeyed only the God of Combat, or the Feynapotter Kingdom to the south, which venerated only the Earth Mother, Loen had believers of the Lord of Storms, the Evernight Goddess, and the God of Steam and Machinery. Naturally, conflicts in views and habits were unavoidable. Still, after more than a thousand years of adjustment, each side remained relatively restrained, and no situation had appeared where they could not coexist.

“Mm.”

Melissa pressed her lips together and turned her gaze back to the heap of parts.

After dinner, Klein continued reviewing historical knowledge. Only after Melissa and Benson had bathed and returned to their rooms did he wash himself, enter his bedroom, and lock the door.

He planned to sort through and summarize what he had learned during this period, as well as the problems that had appeared, lest he forget or overlook crucial points. Only by doing so could he respond to future developments with clearer thoughts.

Klein opened his notebook, took up his fountain pen, and began writing, character by character, in Chinese:

“Why is ‘acting’ the key to digesting a potion?”