Chapter 137

I think so.

"That's great, you really are an old man, a true veteran."

Although Fran's words sounded strange, there was an undisguised elation in his voice.

Before Favia could say anything, the Pink-Haired Girl said earnestly:

"Yes, I understand, Fran."

"Confirm what?"

Favia, somewhat puzzled by Frankenstein's visit, asked in bewilderment.

"You are Fran's Grandpa."

Suddenly, Edmond, who had overheard this from next door, let out a heavy sigh.

He narrowed his eyes slightly at that moment.

It seemed like envy.

It seemed like Jealousy.

It was as if they were gazing at distant stars.

"That's great."

A somewhat bitter smell wafted through the Dungeon.

Earlier, in a house in London.

That day, Fran suddenly became curious about who this 'old guy' that Moriarty kept mentioning was.

Because whenever she asked about it, Babbage and Moriarty would always brush her off.

She had initially thought that since they weren't going to tell her, she wouldn't pry too much and would find out eventually.

But perhaps because no one was home, and Babbage and Moriarty were both out, she secretly rummaged through Moriarty's secret archives.

Although the password was complicated, it was very easy for the girl.

But after reading through the mountain of letters and filtering out Moriarty's nonsensical and strange remarks, Fran became curious: who was this old man Moriarty mentioned in his letters? Was he just the same old man he always talked about? Or was he someone else entirely?

But he must be a relative, right? After all, Moriarty always speaks in that kind of colloquial language when he's happy. But if that's the case, then he's my Grandpa?

It is now 1828, and Frankenstein, who was taken to London England by Moriarty and Babbage for adoption, has been living with them for ten years.

During these ten years, Frankenstein had three identities: an adopted daughter, a 'student' who assisted them, and an 'intelligence agent of the organization'.

Of course, the second and third instructions were those Moriarty preferred, but they weren't too tiring for her as Homunculus.

As for the work of the 'intelligence agents,' it mostly involved asking university students for their opinions on Moriarty's lectures...

In short, Fran, suddenly filled with curiosity, left a letter one day saying he was going out to see the world, and that was it.

In fact, she was well aware that the destination was the Château d'If, since she only needed to look it up to know that Moriarty visited every year.

However, she encountered trouble on the way--

"Oh my, oh my, I really didn't expect to have such a discovery. All living things are products of miracles, therefore, the act of creating life is Divinity, and undoubtedly an act of the Deity..."

Suddenly, those words echoed in Fran's ears.

In that instant, Fran immediately prepared for battle, because the White-Haired Goddess man who appeared with the sound displayed some kind of unpredictable Od circulating throughout his body. The Od, flowing like some kind of pattern, surged and roared, like a fierce snake that seemed ready to bare its fangs at any moment.

Of course, Fran knew what it was.

This pattern is called Magic Crest.

Moriarty had taught her that Magic Crest were similar to artificial organs given to Magecraft.

Inherited along with history from an ancient Magecraft family, the mark is, in a sense, the greatest heirloom and the greatest curse, a solidified mystery passed down only to one son.

Presumably, this unknown Magecraft could kill an ordinary Magecraft simply by using Magic Crest to activate Magecraft.

However, Frankenstein was not afraid of this.

Because the body strengthened by Babbage had instantly figured out how to resolve the situation.

"If the object of creation is the extremely complex human being, then perhaps it can be called the most Divinity act."

The White-Haired Goddess- haired man, whose entire body was radiating green Od, opened his one red and one green eye and slowly approached the pink- Homunculus wielding a large hammer, his smile unchanged.

"Even someone like me, with science, science, and a little Magecraft, could not have committed such a devastating act. How could there be such a foolish Magecraft whom I have no idea about? Aren't they afraid of the Church's wrath?"

With just a second of eye contact, the girl could clearly sense the Magecraft's power.

"... What? What did you say? You're not allowed to talk about my father like that!"

Despite his formidable abilities, Fran's aura was still tinged with Wrath.

Although she found Moriarty always odd, a far cry from Babbage, and sometimes complained about him in private, she couldn't stand others saying such things about them, since they were always so kind to her.

"Although the Church has long since faded with time, many of its mysteries remain. Such actions must be hard to accept, as they are not the Divinity deeds of one's own Faith, but rather the actions of Magecraft, whom one despises most."

"Who exactly are you? I sense something in you that's similar to me. Were you also created? Are you a friend?"

"Me? Though I am merely a dead man, I am still different from you. I am a 'great hero' born from the most Primordial Church legend, from the 'great illusion' of that century, tirelessly striving for the sake of all beings."

He smiled, picked up his water glass, tilted his head back, and drank it all in one gulp.

--Alessandro Cagliostro.

Frankenstein sensed a resurgence of the smell of rust.

This indicates that the density of the man's aura is gradually increasing. If that aura were to be transformed into Od power, it could obviously be instantly transformed into countless Magecraft.

This guy is really strong, stronger than Moriarty and Babbage. Even I might not be able to defeat him.

Even so, she kept her eyes fixed on the man, refusing to show any fear.

Where is your core?

Cagliostro's words were spoken in just two or three seconds, but that was enough for Fran, who was standing right next to him, to react.

The White-Haired Goddess man glanced mockingly at the Homunculus girl's resistance, then raised his hand, making a loose grasp.

Instantly, with a deafening roar as the hammer in Fran's hand was forcibly torn apart, green streams of energy shot out from the hammer like swarms of snakes.

Immediately afterwards, a sound like a cup being smashed spread out.

Smack

With a soft sound, the weapon meticulously crafted by the Steam King was shattered by Magecraft far surpassing his own.

But in that instant, as if hearing a voice no one else knew, Cagliostro froze on the spot, turning his head in astonishment.

Whether by coincidence or not, he sensed a chilling aura, like a howling wind in a blood-stained world, emanating from somewhere in France.

"Strange... Something interesting seems to have suddenly appeared over there in Gevaudan. Could it be that the so-called sleeping King of the Storm is real?" Cagliostro pondered for a moment, then smiled and made a decision, "In that case, you can leave it to Priest Braga Tarataran to deal with. Consider it a gift for my inability to attend the banquet as scheduled."

The two people he was referring to were the two of the three sages who framed Priest Faria: Priest Angelo Braga of the Eighth Sacrament Society, and Taratallon, the reincarnation of the Infinite Reincarnator Roa.

According to Cagliostro, he was invited by both of them, but unexpectedly ran into Frankenstein, who wanted to visit his 'Grandpa' at the Château d'If.

"I don't understand what you're saying? Are you not planning to fight?"

The Pink-Haired Girl tilted her head, looking somewhat puzzled.

"Heh, what a supernatural being! You can simply pass on a message to either your so-called father or an even more ancient ancestor."

Cagliostro slowly stood up, his green coat billowing in the wind.

He let his long hair flow freely, gripping a strange weapon Gevaudan region.

"You'll definitely be wanted by the Church as Heresy, you poor Homunculus. Your parts will be crushed and thrown into the Mediterranean Sea as their atonement to God."

221: Bavan Shi's Diary (4k)

In a Shipyard in London, England, in the Sixteenth Century.

The factory was filled with a noisy commotion, which, while not uncomfortable for Bavan Shi, still made her feel slightly uneasy.

"Is this part done yet...?"

The Fairy girl examined the design drawings left behind by Favia and sighed once again.

In reality, things like grocery shopping and cooking were incredibly easy for her; the fact that Favia had to teach her step by step was just a deliberate act.

However, she really couldn't understand this kind of delicate and complicated operation; she felt that she was more adept at making shoes.

Therefore, Bawan Shi can only say that she is not very bright, which is a fact she has painfully felt over the past two years.

"Boss lady, we're leaving now. You should get some rest too."

"Yes, it's a holiday today, so take a break."

"I'm not the boss's wife! I'm just an acquaintance!"

The girl, still busy with her work, didn't look up, but simply continued to refute as always.

After a while, Bavan Shi simply wiped the black stains off her face, stood up, and rested her chin on her hand, looking out the window at the scenery.

"Ugh... I'm so tired..."

It was late at night in London, and perhaps because of some kind of holiday, the streets were packed with people.

"When are you coming back, Favia..."

The moment I parted ways with that most important person was on that Small Island shrouded in purple mist.

The Fairy girl has now entered her second autumn since then.

For Bavan Shi, what happened on that island was as absurd as a dream.

The purple girl wielding tentacles, and even the purple smoke that seemed to devour the world, were like a dream.

The Fairy girl vaguely remembered that she had suddenly fainted, and when she woke up again, everything had returned to normal.

The sky returned to its azure blue, and the people on the island showed no confusion about what had happened, as if nothing had occurred.

Three months passed in this way, and then, under the vast, clear blue sky, she embarked on her journey back to London alone. As her eyes lowered, her hands continued to search. Although traveling alone would normally be terrifying for the average Bavan Sheehan, she felt none of that at that moment.

Perhaps it's because I call out that name again and again in my dreams.

If you hold what is important in your heart, you will surely be able to illuminate that dark and narrow path. The Fairy girl remembered that Favia had told her this, and that was how she prayed to the moon, which shone with pale moonlight among the clouds.

Back in London, even in the house where the two of them used to live, Bavan Sy still couldn't help feeling lonely.

The world without Favia was truly quiet for her; even this little house seemed lifeless, dimly lit, and utterly silent.

The silence was deafening; I'd never felt so quiet before, even when I was alone.

Bavan Shi knew this was because she had spent a lot of time with Favia before, because Favia would often talk to her all day long as if it were a matter of course, so she had forgotten the silence that often enveloped her.

The girl kept thinking about what was between him and herself.

Just like during this time of separation, whenever she felt lonely and in pain, she would recall the two years they spent together.

In that little hut, I warmed myself by the fire, soaked by the rain, and used that warmth as a form of therapy.

When Bavan Shi looks back on those warm memories from her current perspective, she discovers many things.

For example, when he first met Favia, he showed signs of nervousness because he was crying.

For example, when he couldn't speak normally and chose to avoid the situation, he showed a remorseful expression.

For example, when she refused treatment from others and came to the shipyard to find him, he smiled as he treated her throat.

Bavan Shi was truly delighted to recall these various little things and to imagine Favia's feelings at the time.

She also guessed that perhaps at that time, although Favia's face showed an overly refreshed and joyful smile, she was also feeling anxious inside because of her lack of self-confidence.

Bavan Shi vigorously wiped her cheeks. Even if it was just for a moment, she wanted to put on the expression Favia wanted.

Although her body wouldn't obey the Fairy girl's commands at all, she still tried her best to raise the corners of her mouth.

If Paracelsus and Makiri hadn't come looking for Favia, the Fairy girl would probably have stayed inside like this forever.

"I see... Favia suddenly disappeared? No wonder he's not going to the shipyard anymore. But we'll have to close it down for a while now."