"How many portions?"
"Thirty people's worth? Is that Aegir a monster!?"
A large crowd had gathered around an ordinary breakfast shop, their eyes drawn to the ever-growing pile of plates that had attracted their attention.
Ulpianus glanced coldly at the person whose gaze was swept over, and the person shrank back, but looking at the surrounding crowd, they still stubbornly continued to watch.
Another plate was placed on top of the tower, and Skadi was completely unaware that she had become the sole focus of attention.
No... there's another one.
"What race is that guy? How can he grow so fast!?"
At the other end of the table, a petite figure was growing larger as she ate quickly.
Vane's body grew rapidly from infancy to adulthood, even his hair grew to waist length.
"Phew... I'm full!"
Vane stretched comfortably, and his wide, blood-red pupils made everyone gasp.
"Vampire! This guy is the Vampire!?"
The crowd quickly retreated. Vane rolled his eyes, propped his chin on his hand, and looked across at the other side.
"Is the food in Aegir bad?"
That's not the case.
Skadi is still eating, Ulpianus.
"The higher the physical strength, the greater the energy demand. Skadi's surgery was very successful, and her strength is among the top in the Hunters."
That's one thing.
Vane's gaze drifted to the other person's flat stomach.
"I eat so much and at least I'm growing, but you don't gain any weight at all?"
Skadi puffed out her cheeks, nodded, and then shook her head upon hearing this.
"Who can understand your expression?"
Vane pursed his lips, then his eyes darted around, and he leaned forward, saying:
"How about I feel it? My tummy-rubbing technique is top-notch!"
Splash--
Watching Skadi back away, carrying the plate and the chair, Vane wailed:
"Gala isn't like this with Muli. I've fed her so much food, at least give her some special options! Can't you be a little normal...?"
"You have absolutely no right to speak to Miss Skadi!"
Irene moved the stool closer to Skadi, intending to block Vane's view with her body.
"If you can recover your body quickly, why stay in that state for so long?!"
"Nonsense, how else can you get close to a beautiful girl?"
"How could they say that without any shame..."
"That's called honesty, baby."
Irene felt a chill run down her spine and crossed her arms. Seeing that the group had almost finished eating, the owner finally dared to approach them.
"That..."
Before he could say anything, Vane threw Dario's wallet into the other man's hand.
"Alright, no need to look anymore."
"But..."
"Don't worry, it's not my money, I don't care."
Vane stood up and, somewhat uncomfortably, tossed his long hair.
"Consider the extra a gift. By the way, is there a barbershop around here?"
The rest of the group got up, and Skadi stuffed the rest of the food into her mouth, making Vane's teeth ache just watching.
Just as he was about to leave, a hand landed on Vane's shoulder.
"Guest..."
The boss's expression was serious, completely unlike his previous fearful demeanor.
"You don't have enough money."
"Ha?"
Vane picked at his ear.
"Do you know whose wallet you're holding? It's the savings of a Grand Inquisitor!"
"I don't care if I'm Grand Inquisitor or Saint..."
The boss squinted and patted Vane on the shoulder heavily.
"All I know is that you have to pay for food."
"Although I can afford it."
Vane and his boss locked eyes, sparks flying between them.
"But I just want to try... what if I don't give it to you?"
Clang!
"..." x3
The metal gates slammed shut, and silence spread in the stillness.
The three turned their attention to Vane, who was leaning against the railing and talking to a guard.
"Dude, do you arrest all the Inquisitor?"
"Who says I'm your buddy? Don't try to get too friendly."
The guard rolled his eyes, looked around to make sure no one was approaching, and said...
"You guys are really bold, daring to pretend to be Inquisitor."
"I didn't! I really am Inquisitor!"
Irene blushed, and the guard nodded.
Where are your identification and badge?
Irene's face stiffened. Becoming Inquisitor was just a verbal affirmation from the teacher, and although it was just a formality, the relevant items had not actually been distributed.
"See? They all shut up at times like this."
The guard turned his gaze to Vane, noticing his relaxed demeanor, and asked curiously:
"Why don't you seem afraid at all? Impersonating Inquisitor is no small matter."
"Really? I don't believe it."
Vane leaned against the railing, pulled himself closer, and whispered.
"It's not too late to let me out now, otherwise wait a little longer... someone will come to pick me up."
"Have you been drinking?"
The guard frowned at Vane's expression, earning a glare in return.
"Does Grand Inquisitor Dario know? He's my brother."
"Anyone can brag! I could also say that Saint Carmen is my brother!"
"Okay, I'll chat with Carmen about it later."
Vane's confident attitude made the guard uneasy, and before he could ask, Vane continued.
How much can you earn in a month as a guard?
The guard instinctively called out a number.
"With so little money, why are you risking your life?"
Vane sighed and said earnestly:
"Listen to me, let me out now. Think of your parents, think of your..."
"Mr. Vane!"
Irene covered Vane's mouth from behind.
Please stop saying things that could cause misunderstandings!
Irene's reaction relieved the guard, but before he could fully relax, his superior's shout came.
A bad feeling welled up in the guard's heart.
"Release the newly arrested ones; it's all a misunderstanding."
The guard stood there, stunned, watching his superior open the door for the group.
Vane walked up to the guard and patted him on the shoulder.
"Eat something good..."
Vane strode toward the door, while Irene covered her face and went to stand beside the guard.
"Ten, I'm very sorry!"
After everyone left, the superior looked at the guard standing there with a puzzled expression.
"What are you still standing there for? Aren't you going to leave until I invite you?"
Thump--
The guard collapsed to his knees, just as dark clouds shrouded the sky outside.
The sky over Iberia has darkened.
"Is this why you were arrested?"
Dario rubbed his temples, his head aching. He had finished his written report and was about to take a nap when he heard the report about the others.
"That's not the main reason; I can still afford that amount of money."
Vane fidgeted with his long hair in frustration, while Dario was too lazy to ask about the changes in him.
"So what's the real reason?"
"I'd like to see if the Iberia prisons have pork chop rice."
"There is no such thing..."
Danio felt a wave of dizziness; they themselves didn't even have that kind of food, how could they possibly provide it for the prison cells?
"But the Lungmen Guard Department clearly has them."
"I'll have someone prepare it for you..."
Dario waved his hand wearily, and Vane, seeing this, stopped pressing the matter.
"You two chat first, I'll go explore town."
The air on the street was thick and tense.
Vane could feel countless gazes fixed on his back. His long hair cleverly concealed his pointed ears, leading the residents to ultimately categorize him as a "strange Aegir."
He pursed his lips, turned around, and walked towards the direction where he could smell the salty, fishy odor.
The closer you get to the sea, the sparser and lower the buildings become, as if they are being forced inland by an invisible fear.
Even though they have lived here for generations, the people of Gran Faro still hate the black sea that swallowed their glory.
Vane was not surprised at all; the remote location suited him perfectly.
He paused as soon as he stepped onto the vast port.
"Tsk, someone's already taken."
An elderly Liberi man with a hunched back sat on the edge of the harbor, facing the boundless, inky black sea.
"Old man, what are you doing sitting here?"
Vane raised an eyebrow and stepped forward.
"Isn't it cold with the sea breeze blowing?"
The old man didn't react, staring fixedly at the gray line where the sea and sky met.
Vane followed his gaze and saw nothing but the surging, dark seawater.
He raised his head and looked up at the equally gloomy sky, which made his chest feel heavy.
The sky over Iberia is always like this, just like the sea beneath it, so oppressive it's suffocating.
He doesn't like it.
"... waiting for someone."
A hoarse voice suddenly rang out, and it took Vane a second to realize that the old man was answering his question from a minute earlier.
"Wow, you have a really long reaction time."
Vane rolled his eyes, not bothering with formalities, and sat down directly next to the old man.
So, who are you waiting for?
Another long silence followed, broken only by the sound of the waves crashing.
"My son."
"How long have you been waiting?"
"... I can't remember."
Vane chatted casually with the old man, but his gaze was already fixed on the deeper ocean.
Since that Great Silence that swallowed everything, the islands of southern Iberia, along with their once glorious royal cities, have sunk into this black graveyard.
Royal cities... always have some glittering, sparkling treasures buried there.
Although he's not short of money right now, indulging his hobby of treasure hunting and collecting is always enjoyable.
With a slight thought, the command was given: Search for glittering objects in the underwater city.
Having achieved his goal, Vane squinted, feeling the sea breeze, when the old man beside him suddenly began to move.
He struggled to his feet and walked silently toward the town.
"Huh? Aren't we going to wait?" Vane asked, somewhat taken aback.
The old man didn't turn around. Vane scratched his head, suddenly finding himself intrigued by the taciturn and eccentric old man.
Since he was just strolling around anyway, he followed them at a distance that wasn't too close.
Instead of returning to the main street where there were more people, the old man turned into a quieter alley.
Finally, the two stopped in front of a two-story building with cracked walls and a faded, peeling sign.
Looking through the glass window, Vane could vaguely see a jumble of oddly shaped objects piled up inside.
It looks like... an antique shop?
The old man's hands were trembling slightly, so Vane stepped forward and helped him push open the wooden door.
"Jingle--"
The wind chimes made a crisp, clear sound.
Almost simultaneously, a irritated and impatient male voice came from behind the shelves deep inside the store:
"Old man, why won't you listen to me?! How many times have I told you not to go to the beach! What if you slip and fall in? Who's going to save you?!"
A scruffy-bearded man came out, paused when he saw Vane, and frowned warily.
Who are you?
Vane ignored him, his gaze already fixed on the dazzling array of goods on the store's shelves, where he casually picked up a clock and began to play with it.
The old man moved to the rocking chair against the wall on his own, and the man's brows relaxed slightly, probably mistaking Vane for a customer.
"The weather these past two days looks like it's going to be a storm."
The man turned towards the rocking chair, his voice becoming stern again.
"If you run any further... and something really happens, I won't be responsible if you die!"
"Is that how you talk to your father?"
Without looking up, Vane replied. The man realized Vane was talking to him, and he was momentarily speechless with anger, but mostly exhausted.
He slumped back onto the high stool behind the counter and wiped his face.
"He's not my dad."
Upon hearing this, Vane took a closer look at the man; his hair was already starting to turn gray.
"Your grandfather?" he guessed.
"Tsk, why do you care so much?"
The man glared at him irritably, then his gaze fell on the clock in Vane's hand.
"Are you buying or not? If you're not buying, don't touch them. They're all old items."
Vane obediently handed it back, his gaze sweeping across the store.
There were indeed many items, ranging from rusty ship's clocks and broken nautical instruments to some metal components and ceramic fragments whose purpose was unclear, but many were incomplete.
"You don't have anything good here," Vane commented. "Why is a bunch of stuff broken?"
"A bunch of bastards smashed it."
The man didn't sound angry, Vane glanced at him slightly.
"There's more to the story?"
"Hmph, go ask him." The man gestured with his chin towards the rocking chair.
"If he remembers."
Vane looked at the old man. He had curled up in the rocking chair, swaying back and forth with the chair's slow rhythm.
"Never mind then," Vane shrugged. "By the time he finishes speaking, it'll probably be dark."
"... You're not Iberia, are you?"
The man looked Vane up and down, and after exchanging a few words, he finally noticed the incongruous sense of ease about Vane.
"You noticed?"
"Iberia doesn't have people as 'idle' as you."
The man curled his lip, picked up a piece of velvet cloth, and began wiping the clock he had just taken back from Vane.
"The people here now are either living off the relief provided by the Inquisition, or like those who are kept busy by their arrangements."
He glanced at Vane's nonchalant stance through the cleaned lens.
"It's quite rare to see someone as laid-back as you."
"So you must be the first type, someone who just loafs around and waits to die?"
Vane retorted without hesitation, and the man's lips twitched, but he didn't refute.
Vane said no more and continued to inspect the cramped shop.
The place wasn't big, and it was crammed full of things, but there really wasn't anything that could pique his interest.
He was just about to say goodbye and leave.
"Clang--Clang--Clang--"
As the clock struck the hour, Vane instinctively looked toward the grandfather clock, but his gaze was drawn to the display platform next to the clock base.
There, inside a huge glass bottle, stood something still.
A model ship.
The entire piece is a dazzling golden color, with elegant and smooth lines and astonishingly fine details.
Even through the glass, its majesty can be felt.
Looking at this familiar face, Vane blurted out a name:
"The Stultifera Navis?"
The rocking chair stopped abruptly, and the sound of velvet rubbing against metal also disappeared.
Vane noticed something was wrong and turned around.
The man behind the counter stopped what he was doing and stared straight at him.
Meanwhile, in the rocking chair in the corner, the old man had opened his eyes at some point.
"Fool... Number... Fool... Number..."
The man was the first to regain his senses and avoided Vane's gaze:
"Does anyone actually remember it...?"
He resumed wiping the clock, and the old man in the rocking chair seemed to have flipped a switch, his murmured voice gradually becoming clearer.
Again and again, stubbornly repeating that glorious yet sorrowful name:
"Stultifera Navis... Stultifera Navis..."