Chapter 439: The Captains Suggestion

Adjusting his position for more comfort, Duncan leaned back into the soft, cushiony embrace of the couch. Through the meshwork of bandages wrapped around his face, his eyes caught the young priestess’s attention, radiating a mischievous spark.

“So, the cat’s out of the bag about my identity, isn’t it?” he asked, the corners of his mouth lifting into a grin. “According to the rules of the Death Church, you should report me immediately, you know.”

Agatha parted her lips as if to speak, but her words were held captive by the jumble of her thoughts. Finally, after what felt like an endless pause, she gestured helplessly with her hands in an open shrug. Her face mirrored her internal conflict, settling into a rueful smile. “You’ve certainly placed me in a complicated situation.”

“Yes, you really should report everything that’s happened here to the higher-ups in the Death Church,” Duncan said, his cheerful demeanor giving way to a more serious tone. “First, there was the incident in Pland, and now issues are arising in Frost. Add to that the heretics who have been a perpetual nuisance. Lately, the problems seem to be increasing both in frequency and severity. And let’s not forget, our sun—Vision 001, has also been showing unsettling signs.”

Agatha quickly abandoned her previous discomfort, adopting a more solemn expression as she picked up on Duncan’s dire tone. “...Are you suggesting that all of these troubling events are somehow related?”

“I can’t make that claim with absolute certainty. Don’t be so shocked; I don’t hold the keys to all the mysteries in the world,” Duncan replied nonchalantly. “However, I’ve developed a knack for seeing patterns. When a sequence of unlikely or troubling events starts to line up, I start to wonder if they’re not just isolated incidents but ‘symptoms’ of a more significant system heading for collapse. Have you ever stopped to consider why heretical activities seem to be on the rise lately? In the historical records of grand heretical sacrifices, how many have had such far-reaching impacts?”

Agatha sank into deep thought, her face turning more serious with each passing second.

“Report everything,” Duncan said softly, breaking the silence. “Don’t overlook any details. Let those with the analytical minds dissect what they will.”

“I understand your point. I’ll give a full account of what has transpired,” Agatha responded, her eyes meeting Duncan’s earnestly. “Absolutely everything.”

“I’m curious to see how the Death Church will handle this information,” Duncan said, letting out a soft sigh of relief. “Delaying the inevitable is rarely a good strategy.”

For a while, the room sank into a profound silence as if submerged under the weight of their collective thoughts. Finally, Agatha shattered the stillness. “I must go now.”

“You don’t want to stay a bit longer?” Duncan asked. “Given the state of affairs, leaving this sanctuary means diving right back into a world filled with problems. Moments of peace like this are few and far between.”

“That’s exactly why I need to get back,” Agatha responded, shaking her head resolutely. “The city-state is in turmoil, and it’s not just the Death Church that’s affected. Even the local government is in disarray. If I keep hiding out here, then who will take the reins and try to steer things back on track?”

“Chaos indeed,” Duncan echoed, pausing thoughtfully before suddenly posing another question. “Realistically, with the limited resources and manpower that Frost currently has, do you truly think you can restore order in a short amount of time?”

Caught off guard, Agatha hesitated for a moment. Then, breaking the brief silence, she declared, “...I will do my absolute best.”

“Ah, ‘doing one’s best.’ It’s a noble aim, but sometimes even our best isn’t enough to truly solve the problem at hand,” Duncan mused.

“What are you insinuating?” Agatha probed.

“True. To most of the people of Pland, the Vanished is considered a menace as well. But you’d be surprised how people’s ability to adapt and accept can skyrocket in the face of a major crisis. The collective desire for stability and a sense of normalcy can calm many fears.”

“The desire for stability,” Agatha repeated, musing on Vanna’s words. Though she felt it differently now, the frigid night seemed to seep into her very being. For some reason, it reminded her of another time—fifty years ago, during a grand uprising, when it had also been snowing.

“I’ll discuss this matter thoroughly with the dignitaries at City Hall,” Agatha finally said, as if coming to a conclusion. “And personally, I’ll speak in favor of it.”

“We all hope for the best,” Vanna replied.

“Yes, we all hope for the best,” Agatha echoed, turning to leave. She began walking towards a steam-powered vehicle parked further down the street, its sides adorned with the emblem of the church.

However, after a few steps, she stopped abruptly.

“Is there something else on your mind?” Vanna called out, intrigued.

“Just some personal curiosity. I hope it’s not intrusive,” Agatha turned around, her expression notably odd. Hesitating a moment, she asked, “Is it true that you leaped off a cliff, defeated some kind of creature, and emerged unscathed?”

Vanna looked momentarily stunned, her eyes widening in confusion. “Why this question all of a sudden?”

“I’m not certain, the question just popped into my head,” Agatha admitted, appearing a little embarrassed. “I’ve heard rumors about this particular adventure of yours. If it’s too personal, I apologize for asking.”

“No, it’s fine,” Vanna said, her expression relaxing into a playful grin. “The story is true to some extent, but far less dramatic than the rumors suggest. I was merely taking a casual walk and accidentally slipped off the edge of the cliff. I happened to land on some oceanic waste creature that had washed ashore. It was neither a dangerous offspring nor a momentous battle. The tale has been greatly exaggerated.”

Agatha’s mouth fell open slightly in surprise. Though she couldn’t see due to her blindfold, her expression clearly conveyed her shock.

“So you were unharmed then?” she asked, almost reflexively.

“It was a nasty fall, I won’t lie,” Vanna admitted, laughing a bit self-consciously. She then puffed up her chest, striking a confident pose, “But luckily, I come from sturdy stock. A few cups of warm broth and a couple of days’ rest, and I was back to normal.”

Agatha was visibly taken aback, her surprise palpable.

“Why the stunned look?” Vanna asked, genuinely puzzled.

“Your athletes in Pland must truly be something else,” Agatha finally managed, still trying to wrap her head around Vanna’s casual admission.