Chapter 427 : Key

This was a spacious room lavishly decorated in a rich religious style. An intricately patterned carpet covered the floor, and large half-length portraits of various priests and nuns hung in orderly rows along the walls. A massive bookshelf filled an entire wall, while tall candelabras with flickering flames stood in each corner of the room. Delicate angelic sculptures were placed on either side.

Toward the rear of the room stood a massive desk, piled high with mountains of paperwork. Seated behind the desk was a figure.

She was a mature woman who appeared to be around twenty-seven or twenty-eight, with defined, striking features and long, pale golden hair. She wore a loose, elaborately designed red robe and reclined in her chair with her eyes closed, resting. Despite her composed demeanor, a deep fatigue was etched into her expression. On the desk in front of her lay a fountain pen and a sheet of stationery filled with beautiful handwriting.

The room was silent—its occupant evidently recovering from an intense stretch of work. Suddenly, as if sensing something, the woman opened her eyes. Her deep blue gaze turned toward the open space in front of the desk, where a faint, misty figure slowly began to appear.

It was a translucent humanoid projection, ghostlike in appearance. The shape it took was that of a pale, indistinct nun. Upon fully materializing, the nun turned toward the woman seated at the desk and spoke in a cool, clear voice.

“From the Ivengard Diocese: Antonio submitted a report half an hour ago. A pilgrimage fleet bound for Ivengard, escorted by the Sacrament Knight Order’s Third Escort Fleet, has been hijacked. The total number of abducted individuals—including pilgrims, crew members, and knight-order sailors—amounts to six hundred and twenty-five.”

The red-robed woman did not respond immediately. After a moment of silence, she slowly spoke.

“The Sacrament Knight Order’s Third Escort Fleet… I recall they recently encountered a large-scale Dreamscape interference incident in Navaha.”

“Yes. Prior to that, they were also involved in the cruise ship sinking incident linked to the Abyssal Church. The Navaha incident has now been preliminarily linked to the Shadow cabal’s Blackdream Hunting Pack.”

The spectral nun continued to report respectfully. Hearing this, the woman rubbed her temples, then picked up a stack of documents from the desk related to the escort fleet and sighed.

“So many incidents in just over a week? What fate have they stumbled into? What exactly happened in this hijacking? Were there any losses? Do we know who did it?”

“According to reports from the Ivengard Diocese, the hijackers used control over sea mist and water currents to bypass the escort warships and seize three pilgrimage vessels. Aside from the loss of the passenger ships, there were no other casualties or damages. The hijackers have already sent a letter of extortion to the Purification Cathedral. They claim to be residents of the Summer Tree Archipelago in the Conquest Sea. Their demands are that the Ivengard Diocese halt its forced religious reforms on their people and promise to respect their traditional faith. Otherwise, they say they cannot guarantee the safety of the pilgrims.”

The spectral nun continued her detailed briefing. Upon hearing it, the red-robed woman furrowed her brows.

“Summer Tree? If I remember correctly… they’re adherents of the ancient Abundance faith.”

“Yes. Among the many remote islands in the southwest seas beyond Knoss Island, a number of local populations still hold to the Abundance religion. Over the past few decades, the Ivengard Diocese has focused its missionary efforts in that region, successfully bringing many islands under the guidance of the Three Saints.”

“However, due to the deeply rooted and long-standing nature of Abundance worship in these areas, the Diocese often employed forceful measures. Records indicate that during the nearly thirty-year tenure of the previous archbishop, Justin, there were forty-three purification operations and forty-two forced relocations in the region, with only seven cases of successful voluntary conversion.”

“This is an unusually high number compared to other dioceses engaging with primitive faiths. As a result, resistance to the Church is especially strong in this region, and Summer Tree is one of the most prominent forces of opposition. In the two years since Archbishop Antonio succeeded Justin, he has advocated for a gentler, more diplomatic approach—but has so far made little tangible progress.”

The spectral nun continued her report. Hearing this, the red-robed woman sighed.

“With so much accumulated resentment, how could anything change in just a short time? Antonio would need at least a decade to show results. And now, just when he was getting started, something like this happens. It’s bound to throw his entire plan off course.”

She sighed again, clearly weary of the situation. The nun paused briefly before speaking again.

“Such an outcome may be exactly what Lord Hilbert is hoping for.”

“Of course it is. A minor incident—one initiated by those old-faith heathens themselves—an event that he can blow out of proportion to expand his influence… Hmph. I can already see him making a grand speech about it before the Holy See tomorrow.”

The red-robed woman spoke with undisguised fatigue in her voice. It was clear this development was not something she welcomed.

“I find this hijacking suspicious. Based on the available intelligence, the Sacrament Third Escort Fleet had just undergone a change in command following the Navaha incident—and immediately afterward, Summer Tree launches a hijacking? Now this event conveniently serves as a tool for Hilbert to apply pressure on you. Considering his relationship with the Tribunal, could this perhaps be his doing, behind the scenes…”

The spectral nun spoke with cautious speculation. At her words, the red-robed woman raised an eyebrow and swiftly replied.

“Don’t speculate recklessly about a Cardinal. This incident carries great risk—Hilbert has no reason to take that kind of gamble… As for this situation, yes, something is definitely suspicious. But rather than suspect Hilbert, I’m more inclined to believe this is the work of the Abyss.”

“The Abyssal Church… You believe the Abyssal Serpent’s followers are behind this?”

The spectral nun asked, her brows slightly furrowed. The red-robed woman responded with certainty.

“Of course. When a problem arises at sea, one-third of the time it’s directly their doing, and another third of the time it’s related to them. Stirring up conflict between the natives and us is in their best interest.”

“Ever since Justin became Archbishop of Ivengard and began taking a hardline stance toward the remote island natives, many of those islands did convert. But at the same time, Abyssal Church activity in those waters has surged. According to covert intelligence compiled by northern shore states of the Conquest Sea, there were 542 confirmed mystical incidents linked to the Abyss last year alone—over a hundred more than the year before.”

“Our efforts at conversion have instead strengthened the cultists…”

“Yes. Under Justin’s harsh rule, many natives turned to the Abyss in secret. Those left behind after purification campaigns and forced relocations were absorbed by the Abyssal Church. Not only did they gain manpower, but they also acquired many mystical remnants of Abundance mysticism. Heh… while our ‘civilizing’ efforts blazed ahead, the true cultists quietly expanded their power. It’s not just Ivengard—other peripheral dioceses are seeing the same pattern.”

“There’s evidence that the Abyss has acted as an instigator in several of our conflicts with remote islands. That’s part of why I’ve been pushing for a gentler approach. I just didn’t expect something like this to erupt so suddenly.”

She rubbed her temples, her voice weary. The situation before her was far from optimistic.

“From what I know,” the spectral nun continued, “the natives of the Summer Tree Archipelago are among the most stubborn in the southwest Knoss isles. The likelihood of peaceful conversion is low. Even Archbishop Antonio drafted plans for their forced relocation. But after this incident, those plans might be escalated to a full-scale purification campaign.”

“Right now, Archbishop Antonio is organizing a rescue operation for the pilgrims, but regardless of whether it succeeds, things won’t end well for Summer Tree. His overall strategy will be derailed, and the softer policies we’ve been trying to implement will take a heavy blow…”

The nun’s report continued, and the red-robed woman’s expression grew darker with every word.

“What a miserable predicament…”

“Is there truly… no way to turn this around?” the nun asked hesitantly. The woman leaned back in her chair and slowly shook her head.

“Unless Summer Tree immediately declares conversion and repentance, and surrenders all the hostages of their own volition—no, there’s no chance for a turnaround. But for people who dared do this just to defend their faith in Abundance and resist forced relocation, that’s impossible… So yes, this situation is virtually hopeless.”

She muttered with quiet frustration. At this point, Summer Tree’s fate was practically sealed.

To the colossal, supranational Radiance Church, the Summer Tree incident might have been a mere footnote—but it occurred at a politically delicate moment, granting it disproportionate significance. It was a small matter that could be leveraged by different factions within the Church for immense influence.

“Well, I understand the situation now. You’re dismissed. I need to prepare for tomorrow—facing those people before the Holy See won’t be easy.”

The red-robed woman addressed the nun’s apparition. The nun seemed about to leave, but paused, looking worried.

“Lord Hilbert and the others will likely come at you aggressively tomorrow. I’m concerned for your position…”

“Don’t worry… I have my own cards to play, just as Hilbert has his. The detention of the Third Escort Fleet’s commander? That was the Tribunal’s doing. As long as I have that, I won’t be completely on the back foot. You may go.”

The woman dismissed the spectral nun. The apparition hesitated for a moment, then gave a bow and slowly faded from the room.

Once alone, the red-robed woman stared into the empty space in silence for a moment before softly murmuring to herself.

“Abundance…”

Then she pulled out a fresh sheet of paper, placed it on her desk, and began to write. With elegant, flowing script, she filled the entire page. Finally, at the bottom, she signed her name—Amanda Petit.

…

Time passed swiftly; the moon set, and the sun rose. The long night faded as daylight arrived.

The three hijacked passenger ships continued sailing across the boundless sea, powered by mystical water currents and steel boilers. They moved at remarkable speed, heading southward—further and further from the mainland.

After an extended journey, the pilgrims aboard the ships had gradually come to realize the truth of their situation: they had been hijacked. This sparked a brief commotion. In response, the hijackers from Summer Tree subdued the unrest by displaying overwhelming force, maintaining control over the ships. Almost all passengers were locked inside their cabins, their movements restricted. Helpless and terrified, the trapped pilgrims could only pray alone—pleading for the Holy Mother’s grace to descend in the form of a miracle that might save them.

After tending to all the wounded sailors and hijackers, Vania was granted a more comfortable and secure living arrangement. However, it also came with tighter surveillance. Following Dorothy’s advice, Vania made no attempt to resist the Summer Tree hijackers. Instead, she cooperated with them as much as possible in daily tasks—hoping to gradually earn their trust.

As for Dorothy, she had by now reached Telva aboard her own vessel. Contrary to her original plans of visiting the White Craftsmen’s Guild, she instead checked into a hotel. From there, she spent her days monitoring the three ships through Vania and the three hijackers who had been branded with her Marionette Mark.

At first, Dorothy tried to find an opportunity to seize control of the ships. But once she fully considered the formidable advantage Water Elementalists held at sea, she completely abandoned the idea of engaging in any direct conflict. Shifting focus, she turned instead to intelligence gathering. However, this too proved difficult—most of the Summer Tree hijackers communicated in their native tongue, which Dorothy barely understood. As a result, her progress remained limited.

Thus, another day passed by.

By the evening of the second day after the hijacking, the three ships—traveling at full speed—finally arrived at their destination.

From aboard the ships, one could see it was an impressively large island. Through the eyes of her multiple viewpoints, Dorothy could make out, under the amber glow of dusk, a vast expanse of lush, verdant forest stretching across the land. Nestled between the trees were glimpses of stone buildings. But the most striking feature was a colossal tree towering above the canopy—majestic and dreamlike, as though it belonged to the Dreamscape itself.

Contrary to Dorothy’s earlier assumptions, the natives of the Summer Tree Archipelago were clearly no mere savages on a desolate island. They appeared to possess a considerable level of civilization. On the island’s cliffs, Dorothy spotted a towering lighthouse. Within the bay, a modestly sized stone-built port bustled with activity. Numerous sail-powered wooden fishing vessels were docked, and among them was even an iron-hulled fishing boat with a chimney—clearly steam-powered. Evidently, the island wasn’t entirely isolated; they maintained some level of contact with the outside world.

After entering the bay, the island’s port underwent over an hour of tense coordination before clearing enough space to accommodate the three passenger ships. Then, groups of soldiers dressed in ethnic robes patterned with simple designs and armed with various firearms arrived at the docks. Working with the hijackers, they escorted the pilgrims off the ships.

The frightened pilgrims were quickly divided into separate groups and led away along stone-paved paths to different locations. Meanwhile, the returning hijackers were met with warm applause and a hero’s welcome, escorted through the main road back into the city—where a celebratory banquet awaited them.

Far away on the mainland, Dorothy patiently awaited the coming of night, biding her time until the exhausted hijackers—who had gone two days without proper sleep—finally succumbed to rest.