After setting up the Waystone and reminding Carmen to take good care of it, Steven finally strolled leisurely out of the church.
There was still plenty of time before nightfall. Rather than staying cooped up in a small dormitory at Rhodes Island, Steven much preferred roaming freely in the open world.
The Iberian sea breeze, tinged with a faint salty scent, whipped against his face, making him squint his eyes in enjoyment.
Behind him, Irene stood watching, her expression filled with helplessness as she observed the boy indulging in the moment.
As the designated liaison assigned by Steven himself, her task from Carmen was simple—just stay by his side and assist him when necessary.
In other words, she was getting paid to watch Steven slack off.
Considering his lackadaisical attitude, Irene was seriously concerned that he might just sit down and start a picnic at any moment.
And yet, she had to reluctantly admit—Steven did have the ability and confidence to act this way.
At the very least, he never had to worry about food or survival, and his strength was frighteningly immense.
"Are you sure the people you marked earlier are all traitors from the Church of the Deep?"
Rather than dwelling on Steven's overwhelming strength, Irene hesitated before finally voicing the doubt that had been on her mind for a while.
"Hmm? You don't trust me? Or do you think I'm the kind of guy who likes making jokes about serious matters?"
Steven finished taking in the fresh sea air, turned around, and lowered his gaze to meet the Iberian girl's eyes.
Compared to him, Irene was quite short, forcing Steven to tilt his head down just to see her silver-gray irises.
At the same time, his eyes fell upon the scar over her left eye—a mark left by what seemed to be a blade's slash.
Fortunately, the wound had only cut through her eyelid, missing her actual eye.
At least she hadn't turned into a one-eyed pirate bird—that, Steven thought, was the silver lining.
"You are."
Irene met his gaze directly, giving a straightforward answer.
Among all the people she had ever met, this guy was by far the biggest jokester she had ever known.
Steven's grin froze for a moment.
"Okay, fair. But have I ever joked about serious matters? Especially when it involves other people?"
His reputation had certainly done him no favors here, and he couldn't help but defend himself a little.
"So… you're saying it's true? They really are…?"
Irene didn't press further on the topic of his personality.
Instead, her expression dimmed almost instantly.
If there was anyone least likely to doubt Steven's judgment, it was her.
After all, she had personally witnessed his incredible strength and firsthand experience with his strange, powerful tools.
If he said they were traitors, then it was very likely the truth.
"Hmm, pretty much…. What's wrong? Was there someone you knew among them?"
Steven immediately understood the reason behind Irene's sad expression.
For someone as strong-willed and lively as her, there were very few things that could make her this sorrowful.
It could only mean that this involved someone she cared about.
"Inside that list… There was my fellow trainee, the one who trained under our teacher with me. Together, we passed the Inquisitor's Exam. We promised each other—we'd become High Inquisitors together and protect the children of Iberia."
Irene's gaze carried a mixture of confusion and sorrow, but the pain of betrayal weighed far heavier.
"Oof, yeah, that's rough."
Steven shrugged.
Would this count as getting stabbed in the back by a childhood friend?
No matter how he looked at it, "tragic" was an understatement.
But the problem was—he was absolutely not mistaken.
The marked individuals didn't just have red names floating over their heads. Below their names and health bars, there was even a [Traitor] tag.
It was practically impossible for Steven to misjudge the situation.
"I just don't understand… Why would she betray the Inquisition and choose the Church of the Deep? Was it really worth it?"
Irene pressed her forehead with her fingers.
They had already become Inquisitors, yet one of them still got swayed.
What could possibly drive her to defect?
Or worse—had the Inquisition been wrong from the very start?
She refused to dwell too deeply on that thought.
But at the same time, it left her frustrated and even more conflicted.
Steven watched the little bird lost in thought, amusement flickering in his expression.
Maybe this wasn't a bad thing for her.
To question was to grow—at least now, she was beginning to doubt whether she had truly been in the right.
"If you really want to know… why not just ask her yourself?"
Of course, watching her sulk forever wasn't an option.
Steven wasn't particularly fond of having a gloomy little bird following him around.
If anything, he preferred a livelier atmosphere.
"Huh?"
Before Irene could react, Steven had already grabbed her hand and started dragging her along.
He casually opened his minimap, took a quick glance at where the other Inquisitors were, and immediately spotted a cluster of red dots.
Apparently, Carmen had taken his warning to heart—several of the marked individuals had already been isolated.
"What's your… um, 'friend's' name?"
"Emmaia."
"Found her."
With a name to go on, locating someone through the minimap was child's play for Steven.
A quick glance, and he had already pinpointed the Inquisitor Irene called "friend."
At the moment, Emmaia was inside a small room, seemingly occupied with something unknown.
That worked out perfectly.
It made it easier for Steven and Irene to pay her a little visit.
Like a man who had never heard of the word "manners", Steven kicked the door open without hesitation, still holding onto Irene's hand as they strode inside.
Inside the room, a Liberi girl, now staring at them in confusion, was in the middle of removing her uniform—or at least, she had been.
She paused mid-motion, her frown deepening as she faced the two uninvited guests.
She looked to be around Irene's age, wearing an identical uniform, her waist adorned with the signature Inquisitor's pistol and lantern.
In her hand, she held a rapier with a distinctly Western design.
"Irene? What exactly are you two doing?"
Emmaia slowly set down her half-removed uniform, but her grip on the sword remained firm.
Her sharp gaze flickered between the two of them—clearly not amused by their sudden intrusion.
Her subconscious warned her—these two were not here to bring good news.
But Steven had no intention of exchanging pleasantries.
After flashing a harmless smile at the Inquisitor, in the very next second, he was already right beside her.
Emmaia barely had time to react before a numbing sensation shot through her wrist.
Her control over her rapier vanished instantly.
Not only that, but her pistol and lantern were swiftly removed from her belt.
And before she could even process what had just happened, her entire body was already wrapped in a bizarre white silk thread, rendering her completely immobile.
"Who are you?! What do you think you're doing?!"
Emmaia shouted at this stranger she had never seen before, hoping to both warn him and alert any nearby Inquisitors that something was wrong.
"No need to shout. It's pointless. Thanks to your own choices, this area is completely deserted."
Steven narrowed his eyes, observing the girl before him.
From her appearance alone, she was almost indistinguishable from Irene.
At the very least, it was difficult to associate her with the shady, cult-like figures of the Church of the Deep.
But then again—what kind of normal Inquisitor would deliberately choose to live in an area where no one ever passed by?
Even if she were just antisocial, that wasn't a convincing enough excuse.
"You—!"
"Irene, what's going on? Why are you just standing there?!"
"Did you make some kind of deal with this outsider?"
"Are you planning to betray the Inquisition?!"
Seeing that young man was unfazed, Emmaia quickly turned on Irene, her sharp words like daggers aimed at the girl who had once been her friend.
But instead of answering, Irene took a step back, looking at Emmaia with an expression too complex to describe.
"Emmaia… Tell me the truth…. Did you betray the Inquisition?"
"…What nonsense are you spouting?!"
Emmaia's body stiffened for a split second.
But she quickly regained her composure, shouting at Irene.
"We're both Inquisitors! Have you already forgotten all the training we endured together?!"
"The promises we made?!"
"Did that bastard fill your head with lies?!"
"He's the one trying to sow discord between us!"
Realizing that Irene was wavering, Emmaia immediately shifted her attack toward Steven, desperately trying to throw the blame onto him.
But Steven?
He wasn't even listening.
Instead, he was playing around with the Inquisitor's Lantern he had taken from her, looking at it like a child who had just gotten a new toy.
[Inquisitor's Lantern]: Consumes stamina and mental energy to generate light. The greater the energy expenditure, the brighter the light. Stronger light has a more severe effect on sea creatures.
Oh? So that's how it works?
Steven had always wanted to test one of these, but he never expected the mechanism to be this simple.
Casually, he lifted the lantern and held it in front of the still-ranting Emmaia.
And in the very next second—
It was as if a miniature sun erupted inside the tiny room.
A blinding flash of light engulfed everyone within.
<+>
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