What is it you intend to do to me?
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Inside the water prison, the mermaid and the boy locked eyes.
“Hehe, thank you for the compliment~”
Hearing the boy’s praise, the mermaid smiled joyfully. Her fish tail shimmered with colorful light beneath the water, swaying gently as she winked at him, her voice growing even sweeter.
“Come closer, let me take a good look at you~”
She called softly, a shy blush coloring her cheeks. Her gentle expression resembled that of a young girl gazing at her beloved in the midst of first love.
Yet, deep within her eyes, there was no trace of genuine sweetness.
Her deep blue eyes were cold and profound, like a seemingly calm ocean hiding fierce storms beneath.
Foolish and greedy mortal.
Come closer.
I will show you the price one pays for underestimating the sea...
Watching the boy truly lean forward, the mockery in her eyes deepened, though her voice remained tender:
“So, what do you plan to do with me?”
Just as she was about to reveal her true, fearsome nature, a sudden hesitation stirred within her heart.
Perhaps he was innocent.
She did not know where this pity came from, but she did not want to kill him so easily.
It would be such a waste.
While she wrestled with this inner conflict, she heard the boy’s answer.
He said:
“What do you mean, what next? Nothing—I don’t have a fish tank that big at home.”
“Oh, you want to... hmm?” The mermaid lady was utterly dumbfounded. “Fish tank?”
“Is there a problem? You can’t live without water, right?”
Mermaid: “...Hmm?”
Boy: “Hmm?”
Mermaid: “Uh...”
She had imagined Herbert might respond in many ways—lewd, insane, greedy—but never so rationally.
A fish tank, of all things!
Who would have expected such a reply?
What legendary sea monster would ever lack water?
Are you joking... hmm?
No, wait!
Suddenly, she realized something and looked at Herbert’s clear eyes in surprise:
“You weren’t enchanted by my voice?”
“Your voice is nice too,” Herbert tilted his head and said matter-of-factly, “just a bit too high-pitched. You could speak more normally.”
No joke.
With that sweet voice, if she put on a skin and became a virtual streamer, singing for fans, she’d surely rake in heaps of coins.
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Herbert simply didn’t like voices that high-pitched and squeaky, like “Little windmill, whoosh!” That kind of sound only made him uncomfortable physiologically, with no other reaction.
After hearing her, the only thing that stiffened was his clenched fists.
As for the mermaid’s earlier performance, he could only give it a seven out of ten.
Mediocre. (Pulling up his pants)
“No, you...”
The mermaid squinted, gazing intently into the boy’s eyes. Indeed, she saw no signs of being enchanted.
Really no effect?
But that felt strange.
“What about those things you said just now...?”
“They were all true,” Herbert answered without a hint of doubt.
This sea monster lady, no matter how you looked at her, fit human aesthetics perfectly.
Though some non-human traits were visible—the slightly sharp fingertips and teeth, the thin layer of liquid coating her skin when out of water...
Still, she resembled the mermaids of human legend, the mythical beauties of fantasy.
Beautiful, captivating.
Of course, Herbert actually knew the true identity of this prisoner.
She was no sweet-voiced little sister.
The End Songstress, The Howl of Death, The Sorrowful Glacier—Freme Kya.
Three centuries ago, she single-handedly drove hundreds of sailors and fishermen to drown themselves, turning multiple fishing ports into ghost towns—a terrifying sea demon.
From Freme’s expression now, Herbert guessed she had no good intentions earlier; most likely, she had planned to lure him close and finish him off.
You’re all so cruel.
I’m just a rookie, a little holy knight no more than a beginner—do you really have to be this harsh?
“So, what exactly were you planning to do to me?”
At that moment, Herbert looked at Freme with a hint of grievance.
After a moment of silence, the mermaid lady averted her gaze awkwardly and said, “Ahem... nothing at all!”
“Drown you? No way!”
.
.
Beneath the Mist Monastery, within the sealed sanctuary.
“Your Excellency Archbishop, why have you come? Isn’t it too early for the shift change?”
The red-robed ascetic, his body pierced by hundreds of rusty rivets, slowly opened his eyes and looked toward an elderly man in a coarse linen robe who had appeared beside him. The ascetic furrowed his brow, and two rivets struck together with a strange, faint trembling sound.
“Any abnormalities lately?”
The elder did not explain. His calm eyes, unreadable in emotion, gazed steadily at the stone statue at the center of the seal.
The statue, depicting a kneeling girl no taller than half a person, seemed worn by the sands of time; only the bowed head and devout prayer posture remained discernible.
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The Sacred Seal—Desecrated Prayer Statue.
“...It has awakened twice.”
“When?”
“The first time was at dawn one month ago, lasting two minutes; the second was at noon two days ago, lasting thirty seconds.”
“I see.”
Their conversation was eerily calm, devoid of any tremor, as if the awakening of the seal was of no consequence.
“You may rest. Watch carefully for any possessed monks. I will take over the watch for now.”
“...Understood.”
Though it was against protocol to change shifts early, the Rust-Rivet Archbishop did not question it.
The Archbishop’s decision surely had his reasons.
This was a saint walking among mortals, a legendary being so revered even gods smiled in his presence.
Moreover, the Mist Monastery itself had been founded by the Archbishop himself, and his word was the ultimate law.
After the Rust-Rivet Archbishop departed, the Archbishop sat cross-legged, staring at the statue and slowly speaking:
“I know you have not truly slumbered.”
“What have you noticed?”
“What is it you wish to do?”
The Archbishop asked silently for a long time, but the sanctuary remained silent, his voice echoing alone.
The statue gave no reply.
Ancient and mute.
Finally, the Archbishop seemed somewhat resigned and closed his eyes, calmly making his final declaration:
“No matter what you intend, as long as I remain here, your schemes will never succeed.”
His voice was calm, lacking menace, yet at that moment, it seemed to subtly alter the very atmosphere.
He said:
“I will not allow you to harm anyone.”
.
.
At midnight.
In a dim room lit by a single candle, the boy silently wrote a few words in an open notebook.
“Pen spirit, pen spirit! In past lives and this one, I am yours. If you wish to continue our bond, please draw a circle on the paper.”
In the next moment, his left hand slowly moved, drawing a perfect arc upon it...
Swish.
【?】