Chapter 54
Chapter 54: Compromise and Exchange
“So you’re saying the witch was worried her hideout would be discovered, so she moved to a new hideout every so often, and your father was taken away by the witch, but she left little Celie—you—at the old hideout.” Charlotte recorded while verbally confirming, occasionally looking up to check Funis’s reaction. “That fire was deliberately set by the witch to destroy evidence and leave no traces. Is that right?”
“As far as I know, yes.” Funis had just eaten a piece of chocolate cake and licked the chocolate sauce from her index finger.
Playing along with Charlotte’s speculation, Funis fabricated a fairly self-consistent false background, assigning the role of the ultimate mastermind to Cessia, making her appear as the great villain who persecuted both Sera and “Celie,” with all the bad deeds being her doing.
The Blood Witch had always been mysterious in the public eye, so Charlotte would back down when faced with difficulties.
The blonde girl was currently frowning over the interrupted lead.
One question remained: why would the Temperance Court establish a branch in Graycliff Fortress, a place unwelcoming to Church forces?
Years ago, during that revolution, both the Church and old nobility were driven from this city. The emerging steam technology and difference engine technology left the Kingdom of Lorenzo temporarily unable to deal with these scattered city-states that declared independence. Even the Papal States, which controlled most supernatural powers, couldn’t easily extend their reach beneath these sky fortresses armed to the teeth with war machines.
Now the Kingdom of Lorenzo had also undergone a relatively peaceful revolution. The royal family was willing to share power with parliament, and train whistles began echoing over the ancient island empire’s skies. The formerly separated free city-states successively returned to bow before the golden iris scepter, as the Queen brought prosperity to the Kingdom of Lorenzo.
But Graycliff Fortress was different.
It was the most prominent and powerful leader among these independent brothers and sisters.
What soared in the Black City’s sky at this moment was merely “Graycliff Fortress—A001,” the oldest and most commemorative one, serving as proof that humanity had first conquered the sky without relying on magical potions.
Even larger, more complex sky fortresses slept beneath the city.
Nearly half the factories in the Blackwater District worked day and night producing gears and shells, with a new mechanical beast being christened with the “Graycliff Fortress” name every two weeks.
The Kingdom of Lorenzo couldn’t blockade or sanction this thorn in their side, unless their capital Payton’s Forest also wanted to experience being shrouded by dark clouds.
The Church had already given all ambitious parties coveting this territory a taste of “gray clouds’” power.
When their once-acclaimed Merciful Knights, said to sweep across the entire continent invincibly, climbed the Lendos Mountains trying to look down upon that small city-state from above, these supernatural knights transformed into “Heavenly Warriors” by generous Destiny Path potions and clad in gold and silver armor couldn’t help but gasp.
They saw the dark clouds.
Occupying the entire sky in pitch black were war fortresses deployed in full force. Sunlight couldn’t penetrate through the gaps between them, and dense artillery arrays nearly leveled the mountains in an instant, with the massive steam whistles’ vibrations like divine punishment.
Those were God’s chariots, yet not made by God—the workers in that city had created such miracles.
Only then did the Church begin to realize that the old era of commanding the world merely by monopolizing potion formulas was in jeopardy. Those metal monsters breathing steam with gears and drive shafts as skeletons were no weaker than supernatural powers from angels and demons. The new era would arrive roaring with train whistles.
The Church feared this progressive city where new technology constantly flourished, despised those pot-bellied capitalists with eyes full of profit, and detested the evil and blasphemy breeding in the city’s dark places. Graycliff Fortress saw itself as the old era’s challenger. They claimed the days of worshipping gods and groveling before mysterious powers were over—humans should live for humans themselves. They looked down on the seven archbishops’ sanctimonious facades while using power for dirty deeds in secret. Clerics should never be the world’s rulers.
So the Church and Graycliff Fortress were mutually hostile and antagonistic, and had indeed had significant friction.
Looking up, one could still see that towering mountain with an entire section carved away—the burial ground of many Merciful Knights. White lilies bloomed throughout the shell craters the following spring, with the ground beneath filled with bones of Michael’s followers.
This already counted as deep hatred and great enmity.
Funis remembered that when she infiltrated the city a year ago, she had to hide her enforcer identity. Without the Church as backing, everything was inconvenient, but the task was so arduous and difficult that the Pope personally designated her, a Seraph-level enforcer, to come to Graycliff Fortress.
Yet now the Temperance Court had established a branch in the most prosperous Georgetown District.
Whose idea and intention was behind this? What purpose was all this meant to achieve? How much had the Pope and Joseph each compromised and conceded, and what had they used as exchange to reach this deal?
Funis didn’t know, but she wanted to find out.
“Sister Charlotte, could you take me to meet your superior? You’re like… police officers… you should have a station or something, right?” So Funis rubbed the soft hair by her shoulder and blinked her big eyes, pretending to be half-understanding, using a sweet tone to make her request. “I’m afraid I’ll forget things after a while, so while I’m still in good condition…”
She wasn’t naturally gifted at acting.
It was just that to appear dignified at all times in public, various expressions and mannerisms had become second nature after training. She could put on any appearance she wanted, so naturally playing a sweet, pitiful little loli was no problem.
Both well-behaved and pitiful, and cute too—Charlotte couldn’t resist.
“My superior…” The blonde girl was still immersed in the notebook full of false leads with few true words. Hearing Funis’s words, she took a moment to react. “Ms. Michelle? She’s our branch director. Not counting the archbishops and Pope in Vatica, she’s the top boss here.”
Michelle?
Hearing the familiar name, Funis was slightly stunned.
This one could be considered her junior, but since Michelle left Vatica for the Kingdom of Lorenzo, they’d rarely been in contact. She hadn’t expected Michelle to be the current branch director of Graycliff Fortress.
“Little Celie, you don’t need to push yourself so hard.” Lost in memories, Charlotte suddenly opened her arms and hugged her again. The tulip fragrance was sweet and pleasant. “It’s all strangers there, and sister is afraid you won’t be comfortable. Why don’t you rest a few more days? I’ll wait until Ms. Michelle is free and invite her to visit at home, so you won’t have to go there.”
Funis struggled to emerge from the rolling waves, exposing half her head by Charlotte’s neck. She took a breath of fresh air to recover.
Because Charlotte doted on her too much, things had backfired.
But according to the Temperance Court’s usual practices, having Michelle visit privately for further records was indeed more prudent. After all, “Celie” as a survivor was herself evidence, and ensuring basic personal safety meant it was best not to go out for now.
But if she didn’t personally visit the branch, Funis still couldn’t figure out the general situation.
And she wanted to use this opportunity to scout the surrounding environment and street layout, to facilitate returning to the Golden Rose later in her silver-haired form.
Cessia still owed her a potion, a promotion ceremony, a celebration banquet, and a promised mysterious gift. Funis remembered every single one of these little matters.
But how could she get Charlotte to agree to take her out?
“But public servants like Sister Charlotte must be very busy, right?” Funis grabbed her adoptive daughter’s sleeve with her small hand, tears glittering in her pale pink eyes. “Ms. Michelle as a leader must be even busier. Having her specially take time to make a trip for me would definitely be very inconsiderate, right? Disturbing her work and rest time…”
“How… how could that be?” Charlotte was shocked. “No one would think that way! Little Celie, you’re so cute—Ms. Michelle will like you!”
Where had she ever seen such a manipulative loli before?
Maturity and understanding beyond her years, plus a sweet, touching face—this combination attack left the seventeen-year-old girl from the Holy Capital dizzy and unable to extricate herself from the girl’s sweet voice.
“But I still feel bad about it. Polite children should take the initiative to visit and greet people… I can’t remember what my parents looked like… but I still remember some of what they taught me. I need to be a polite child.” Funis spoke softly, with occasional sobs mixed in, her gaze flitting away whenever it met Charlotte’s, then shyly and guiltily looking away.
The small hand gripping her sleeve tightened further, and this tug seemed to tug at Charlotte’s heart.
She was completely defeated.
“Okay, okay, we’ll do whatever you want, little Celie.” This seventeen-year-old girl who hadn’t seen much of the world immediately hugged Funis tightly again with heartache and affection. “Wait for sister to prepare, and we’ll go out in a bit.”
Easy victory.
Playing the pitiful little girl was still most convenient—sticking to principles got you nowhere. Funis mused that since she’d already become a witch, she played by any means necessary. What use were principles anyway?
Her goal was finally achieved, and Funis’s little plan was proceeding steadily. Everything was normal.
But she still felt like something had been hiding in the shadows observing her.
It should be her imagination, right?