Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios
Desi County, Conant City, 67 Red Indus Street.
Wearing a commonly seen face in the Loen Kingdom, Klein took a step forward and rang the doorbell.
In less than a minute, the door creaked open as a maidservant looked out and asked out of curiosity, “Good evening, who might you be looking for?”
“I’m here to find Ma’am Neelu. I’m a friend of her father, Davy Raymond,” Klein answered calmly.
Derrick Raymond was the Nightmare who he had released from Creeping Hunger. It was a Red Glove from the Nighthawks, and the first thing on his mind before he dissipated was his daughter, Neelu Raymond. He was very apologetic towards her for not spending time with her while she grew up, making her effectively lose her father when she had already lost her mother. Klein had promised him that he would make a visit to the beautiful coastal city if he had the chance to visit his daughter.
Having probed for more information earlier, Klein had gained a general idea about Neelu Raymond’s situation. After this girl graduated from grammar school, she worked at the Women and Children Care Foundation which was run by the Church of the Evernight Goddess. She had a weekly salary of 2 pounds 10 soli and was the target of envy by her neighbors.
She also inherited an inheritance from her “businessman” father. As for how much it was, no one knew. They just knew that she was richer than most people from the middle-class.
Typically speaking, women with such wealth would place great emphasis on their marriage. They would repeatedly select and observe candidates, resulting in their late marriage. However, Neelu had married to a civil servant just a year later.
As both parties were believers of the Evernight Goddess, she didn’t take on her husband’s last name. She continued going by the name Neelu Raymond, and she continued staying at 67 Red Indus Street.
After hearing Klein’s answer, the maidservant quickly requested him to wait as she entered the living room to report to her mistress.
Before long, a woman in a home dress walked to the door. She had black hair and blue eyes. Her face was rather thin, and she was rather pretty. She resembled Davy Raymond.
“Good evening, sir. I’m Neelu, Davy Raymond’s daughter. May I know when you got to know my father?” Neelu Raymond asked politely but warily.
Klein took off his hat and smiled.
“I got to know him at sea. It’s been several years.”
Neelu Raymond swept him with a wary gaze and said, “Perhaps you might not know, but he has already passed away.”
Klein sighed and replied, “Yes, I know. I got to know him through that disaster. He had some words to say back then which I didn’t think too much about. However, the more I thought about it in recent years, the more I felt that I should inform you.”
“Is that so?” Neelu said softly. After some thought, she invited him. “Please come in. Would you mind if my husband listens in?”
“This is up to you to decide,” Klein frankly replied.
Neelu nodded and led Klein into the study. Her husband had the looks of an ordinary civil servant with a gentleman’s bearing. He put down his newspapers and followed them in.
After both parties sat down, Klein looked at the couple on the sofa and deliberated.
“Mr. Davy Raymond once experienced disaster after another. He lost his father, mother, wife, brothers, and sisters.”
Neelu nodded with a deadpan expression.
Klein thought and continued, “He appears to be a merchant, but he was in fact seeking out the murderers who caused that disaster.”
“I know.” Neelu didn’t object to it.
Klein glanced at her and continued, “He dedicated himself to this matter, and he was very regretful that he didn’t manage to spend time with you growing up, making you lose your father alongside your mother.”
Neelu fell silent for a second before she rapidly replied, “I know!”
Klein swept his gaze to the old books around him and sighed silently.
“He said that his greatest wish was to see you enter the hall of marriage under the witness of the Goddess, to have your own family, and to not be lonely anymore. I believe he should be very happy right now.”
Neelu’s gaze slowly moved away from Klein’s face as she turned agape, answering only two seconds later.
“… I know.”
Klein leaned forward slightly as he clasped his hands.
“He said that he might die at sea, and he wanted me to tell you that he died as a result of an accident. All the murderers from before have already been punished. You do not need to hate anyone.
“He also said that he loves you very much and that he’s very sorry.”
Neelu remained silent for a few seconds as she blinked. She turned her head to the side and scoffed with an unclear attitude.
Klein gave her a deep look before getting up.
“I’m done passing on the message. It’s time I leave.”
Met with silence, Neelu’s husband nodded gently as a gesture of thanks.
Klein turned around, walked to the door of the study. Just as he twisted the doorknob, Neelu Raymond’s voice sounded from behind him, deep and hoarse.
“What… kind of person do you think he was?”
Klein fell silent for a second, turned his head, and curled his lips. He said with a smile, “A guardian.”
He didn’t stay any longer as he opened the door and walked to the coat rack.
When he wore his hat and left 67 Red Indus Street, soft, restrained sobbing suddenly drilled into his ears.
Shaking his head silently, Klein left the borough and entered a cathedral of the Evernight Goddess.
Passing through the dark and serene aisle, he sat in the seventh row from the back. He faced the crimson half-moon and the black Sacred Emblem filled with resplendent stars. He took off his hat, lowered his head, and held his hands to his mouth, just like the many believers present.
While praying silently in the silence and tranquility, time quickly passed. Klein slowly opened his eyes as he gently stood up.
At the spot where he sat, he left behind an item wrapped in paper.
Klein walked along the aisle and left the prayer hall, going straight to the cathedral’s entrance.
With his back facing the hall, he wore his hat, raised his right hand, and snapped his fingers.
The paper suddenly ignited where he sat, garnering the priest’s attention. When this gentleman rushed over, the flames had already extinguished, leaving behind a dark gem-like item.
This is… Although the priest didn’t know what the item was, his spiritual perception told him that it was very important!
When he and the other priests rushed outside the cathedral, the gentleman in a tailcoat and half top hat had already disappeared.
The next morning.
Through a local black market, Klein had obtained a new identity as he came to the steam locomotive station.
In his hand was a second-class ticket worth 18 soli, as well as identification documents for himself. He held a black leather suitcase as he stood at the platform with his back straight, awaiting the arrival of the train headed for Backlund.
The present him was a middle-aged man who was nearing his forties. He was slightly more than 180 cm tall, and his black hair had a few silver strands. His deep blue eyes were like a lake at night, and he was rather good looking. He gave off mature and elegant vibes.
Looking down at the identification documents, Klein’s eyes reflected his present name: “Dwayne Dantès.”
After some thought, he placed the suitcase on the ground, laid it down, and opened it before stuffing all his identification documents inside.
Inside the suitcase, there was a black wooden box containing the former Loen soldier, Frunziar Edward’s ashes.
Moments after arranging his suitcase, he heard a whistle. A steam train chugged into the station spewing smoke before it slowed down to a halt.
He looked up and cast his gaze forward as he examined it in silence. Then, he looked down at his suitcase and whispered, “It’s time to return…”
He then stood straight, carried his belongings, and walked to the open carriage door.
Backlund, Cherwood Backlund, 26 Gunstedt Street.
Benson took off his hat, removed his coat, and handed it to the maidservant. He looked at his sister, Melissa, who was glued to her book in the living room.
“The entrance examinations are in June. You’ll finally experience the pain of studiously studying that I endured back then.”
Melissa didn’t look up as she continued reading.
“I’m studiously studying every day.”
“A little humor, Melissa. A little humor. What’s the difference between a person without humor and a curly-haired baboon?” Benson said with a smile.
Melissa casually glanced at him and said, “That wasn’t what you said in the past.”
She didn’t correct him on what the exact difference was between humans and curly-haired baboons, and she instead said, “Do civil servants also finish work so late?”
“No, there’s been a lot of work recently. As you know, oh—you don’t. In such a huge reform, the handing over of work and the straightening out of different relationships are very troublesome.” Benson swept the mirror in the living room. He couldn’t help but lift his hand to comb his hair as he said with a look of displeasure, “Although I’m only a low-ranking employee in the Ministry of Finance, that doesn’t stop me from having plenty of work. The only thing to be happy about it that I’ve finally survived the darn probationary period. I’ll soon have a weekly salary of 3 pounds!”
Melissa put down her book, and she walked to the dining hall and said to Benson, “It’s dinner time.”
She paused and said very seriously, “I read in the papers that there’s something called Donningsman Tree Sap that has a significant effect on boosting hair growth.”
Benson’s face immediately had mixed expressions.
Amidst the whistle, the long steam locomotive chugged into Backlund.
Klein picked up his suitcase and once again stepped into the Capital of Capitals, the Land of Hope. He discovered that the smog had thinned significantly, and there wasn’t the obvious palish yellow colors. The gas street lamps on the platform were already turned on, dispersing the gloominess and darkness.
Surveying the area, Klein walked out the steam locomotive station, took the metro and a carriage, and came to a Church of Storms cemetery outside West Borough.
Then, he spent a little bit of money and placed Frunziar Edward’s ashes into a partition.
By then, this Loen soldier had already left Backlund for more than 165 years.
After taking a step back, Klein observed it for a moment before using a pen and paper to engrave something on the partition door:
He closed his eyes and added:
“Every journey has its destination.”
(End of the Third Volume—Traveler)