Gathering

The leaders and bishops of the Four Gods Church were to gather aboard a ghost ship returning from Subspace—no matter when such a thing happened, it would sound utterly outrageous. If someone shouted about it in a city-state, anyone who heard them would have to ponder for quite a while whether to report it to the Inquisitors or the asylum.

But now, it had truly happened.

The Lost Homeland arrived at the appointed place at the appointed time—on the calm waters near Lightwind Harbor, close to Storm Cathedral. It stopped there, and "visitors" from the four Pilgrimage Arks arrived one after another in small boats.

Shirley crouched behind a railing on the stern deck, peeking at the priests on the central deck as they nervously looked around or forced themselves to remain calm, their bodies taut with tension. As she watched, she whispered to the shadow beside her, "They really dared to come... Did you see that bald uncle? His forehead is so shiny, and his whole head is covered in sweat..."

A'gou's muffled voice came from the shadows. "This is a little too terrifying... Back in the city-state, forget people of this level—whenever we ran into a few Guardians, we had to avoid them..."

"Times have changed... That's how the saying goes, right?" Shirley said smugly. "Now they're the ones who have to avoid us—at least on this ship. Hey, want to jump out and give them a scare? Chances like this don't come often..."

"I can jump out, but the captain might beat you up afterward—I'm really going to jump."

"No, no, no, I was just joking..."

On deck, Roonie the Doll, who had come aboard the Lost Homeland with her mistress, was methodically guiding the "visitors" across the central deck toward the door leading into the cabins.