Chapter 828: Nightingale’s Secret Plan
The flood of relief and worry hit Roland at the same moment, tangled past sorting.
He wanted to reproach her. She had risked her life — against a creature that, by Agatha’s account, could have killed the entire exploration team. The words assembled themselves and then, meeting Nightingale’s unguarded smile, simply refused to come.
He patted her once on the back. “Be more careful next time.”
She nodded. Then shook her head. Her voice dropped to the register only he could hear: “Unlike Anna, I can’t turn your drawings into real things. This is the only thing I can do for you.” A small pause. “But don’t worry. My top priority is to protect you — and stand by your side. I won’t throw myself into danger recklessly.”
The word you hung between them longer than she probably intended.
Color rose to her face. Having apparently exhausted her courage for the day, Nightingale disengaged herself and dissolved into the Mist.
Roland stood there a moment. It was difficult to reconcile the two pictures: the girl who had needed to visibly gather herself to say you — and the same girl who had faced a fearsome monster in the dark of a ruin, armed with nothing but a flintlock and some explosives.
He was moved, more than he had expected to be.
Please let me continue to protect you.
Her voice reached him from somewhere in the air — quieter now, the confession safely tucked away — and he felt, unexpectedly, a sense of security he had not known for some time.
After that, as was customary, he worked his way through the other witches with a welcoming embrace for each.
The Taquila survivors gave him pause.
Where the union members laughed and jostled and called out across the wharf, the Taquila witches moved differently — in orderly file behind their leaders, each bearing a black case on one shoulder. Disciplined and precise. When they passed Roland they looked at him, and their gaze was the problem. It held something he could only describe as ardent: a feverish aspiration that made him want to step back.
He understood the reason. Pasha and certain of the other witches had told the God’s Punishment Witches at the snow mountain about the Dream World. The expedition’s second purpose — alongside exploration — had been to transport the soul device to the Great Snow Mountain, so that those witches could transfer their souls into devouring worm carriers. The knowledge that Roland’s dream could receive them had clearly been significant news.
He did not mind, in the abstract, being looked at that way. The complication was that most of the God’s Punishment Witches wore male bodies. The available shells had been what they were: male God’s Punishment Warriors. Roland knew the souls inside were female. That knowledge, however, did not prevent a certain unease when a group of large, muscled men regarded him with ineffable eagerness. He was only human.
He returned to the castle to find Nightingale already at his desk, legs dangling over the edge, looking entirely unbothered by the concept of chairs.
“So it’s true,” she said, without preamble. “Those shells can enter the Dream World.”
Word had spread to some of the union witches as well, it seemed.
Roland shrugged. “I was surprised the first time too. They can enter the dream if they disconnect in the area covered by the beams of light. The beams aren’t a link to the gods — they’re closer to a transit channel.”
Nightingale listened with the focused attention she usually reserved for things she was planning to act on. Her feet migrated to his knee.
“No.” Roland said it before she could speak.
She blinked.
“You want to convert into a God’s Punishment Witch’s body and enter the dream. I won’t allow it.”
He had learned early that Nightingale, unlike Anna, moved toward dangerous ideas rather than away from them. The best approach was to close the door before she got a hand on the latch.
“But I—”
“There’s no room for negotiation.” He kept his voice level. “Entering the Dream World is not the same as merging with my mind. It won’t make you immortal. It’s a strange place, partially eroded by some power I don’t fully understand — and it may simply cease to exist one day. Even if you entered my dream every night, that’s only one night. What about all the other hours? Would you spend your life in a shell that cannot feel?” He let that land. “You said your top priority is to protect me and stand by my side. Are you planning to go back on that?” He mimicked her earlier tone, just enough to make the point. “I don’t want a bearded God’s Punishment Warrior following me around all day.”
Nightingale’s head snapped toward the window. “I — I understand. I never said I’d live in a shell. You said that.”
Roland smiled. “Would you like some Chaos Drink?”
She turned back instantly. “Yes.”
Easy to please, he thought, with genuine warmth.
He produced a packet of dried fish from the desk drawer and set it beside her glass, then uncorked a new bottle — sky-blue, one of the recent shipments — and poured. “Thank you for what you did out there. Agatha told me that if you hadn’t wounded that monster as severely as you did, everyone would have been in danger.”
Nightingale drained the glass and exhaled. She picked up a piece of dried fish and rubbed her nose, a gesture that seemed designed to communicate nonchalance. “Anytime. You’re being too formal about it.”
“No, I’m not.” He set the bottle down. “If I lost the members of the Witch Union’s exploration team — all of them — that would be a permanent loss for Neverwinter. Your work is as essential as Anna’s. You simply specialize in different things.”
Something crossed her face at that. She covered it by chewing her dried fish with great deliberation.
“Mm. Right.” A beat. “So — you mentioned the Dream World is being eroded by some unknown power. What does that mean exactly? Are you in danger?”
Roland recognized the change of subject for what it was and chose not to comment on it. “It’s a long story. But one thing I can say with certainty: whatever that world eventually becomes, it won’t affect the real me. The beams of light won’t appear unless I choose to dream.”
As for the erosion itself — Garcia had said the Martialist Association would eventually guide its newer members toward uncovering the dream world’s mysteries. Whatever she had meant by that, Roland would not know until he saw it.
He set the question aside. He was more immediately curious about the newly amended Mathematical Olympiad textbook.
Chapter 828: Nightingale’s Secret Plan
Translator: TransN Editor: Meh
Roland was too overwhelmed by the swell of emotions to develop an immediate response. He wanted to reproach her for risking her own life, but his words, which were about to come out, finally yielded to a look of resignation when he saw Nightingale’s beaming smile.
In the end, he patted her on the back and said, “Be more careful next time.”
Nightingale nodded and then shook her head. She whispered to him in a voice that nobody but he could hear, “Unlike Anna, I can’t convert those drawings to physical entities… This is the only thing that I can do for you.” She then paused for a moment and went on, “But please don’t worry. My top priority is to protect you… and stand by your side. I won’t recklessly put myself in a dangerous situation.”
Nightingale flushed at her own bluntness. Although her voice kind of trailed off in the middle, Roland still clearly heard the word “you”.
The act had probably consumed all Nightingale’s valor. With these words, she disengaged herself and vanished in the Mist.
It was hard to imagine that the girl, who had to obviously muster all her courage to proclaim her feeling, would actually challenge a fearsome monster to a duel in the ruin, with nothing but a flintlock and some explosives in her hand.
Roland was deeply moved.
“Please let me continue to protect you in the future.”
Hearing Nightingale’s calming voice from behind, Roland somehow felt a sense of security which he had not experienced for a long time.
Next, as a common practice, he gave all the other witches a welcoming hug.
Nonetheless, Roland was a little discomforted by the look of the Taquila survivors.
Unlike the laughing and cheering union members, the Taquila witches, following their leaders, landed in an orderly manner, each with a black box on the shoulder. When they passed Roland, however, they stared at Roland, eyes fastened onto him, full of ardent desires and a feverish aspiration that made Roland shudder uncontrollably.
Roland knew very well the reason behind their lusty gazes. Apparently, Pasha and some of the other witches had informed the God’s Punishment Witches at the snow mountain of the Dream World. Apart from exploring, the purpose of their expedition was to transport the soul device to the Great Snow Mountain and transfer their souls to the devouring worms.
Roland did not mind wild gazes from women, but the problem was that most of the God’s Punishment Witches had a male appearance. Roland understood that due to the limitation in the choices of shells, they were forced to pick male God’s Punishment Warriors. However, for Roland, it was a very unnerving feeling to be stared by a person of the same sex.
Even though he knew the souls beneath these shells were female, he could not help feeling a little queasy under the scrutiny of a group of big, strong “male” warriors. It was even worse when the stares were overflowed with some ineffable eagerness.
After the greetings, Roland returned to the castle and found Nightingale had reappeared at his desk, her slender legs dangling in the air.
“So it’s true… that those shells can enter the Dream World?”
It seemed some union witches had also learned the news.
Roland shrugged. “I was surprised at first as well. They will intrude the dream if they disconnect themselves in the area covered by the beams of light. Those beams are more a transportation channel than a connection with the deities.”
Nightingale pursed her lips without uttering a word. Her eyes, however, brightened as she listened. She even cocked her feet to Roland’s knees. Evidently, she was much bolder when they were alone.
“No!” Roland immediately objected. “I know what you’re thinking. You want to convert yourself to a God’s Punishment Witch and enter the dream. I won’t allow you to do that.”
Roland had learned long before that Nightingale, unlike Anna, was more audacious. So he instantly renounced her crazy idea after noticing what she was planning on. If he did not, Nightingale would probably really plunge into action.
“But I…”
“There’s no room for negotiation,” Roland interrupted her decisively. “Entering the dream world doesn’t mean you’re fused with my mind, nor does it mean that you’ll become immortal. It’s just a fake, strange world which has been eroded by some unknown power. Perhaps someday it’ll just vanish. Plus, even if you enter my dream on a daily basis, that’s just one night. What about all those other moments? Are you planning to live in a shell that doesn’t feel forever?”
Nightingale lowered her head. After a long silence, she muttered, “I just feel it’s too unfair that they can go to places you once visited.”
Roland was amused by her brooding tone. “It’s an unimaginable price they’ve paid for. A senseless life of eternity is more terrible than a life of imprisonment. The Dream World is simply a small comfort to them. There’s no need to envy them. You said ‘My top priority is to protect you and… stand by your side’. Are you planning to break your promise?” Roland mimicked her voice. “I don’t want a bearded God’s Punishment Warrior to stick around all day.”
Abashed, Nightingale turned her head immediately. “I, I got it! I didn’t say that I would live in a shell. You did though.”
Roland smiled. “Would you like some Chaos Drink?”
She instantly turned back. “Yes!”
“Well, she’s really easy to please,” thought Roland.
Roland produced a pack of delicious dried fish from the drawer and put it on the desk, after which, he uncorked a new drink coming in a sky-blue bottle and filled Nightingale’s glass. Roland said, “Thank you for your help. Agatha told me if you did not severely wound that monster, everybody would have been in danger.”
Nightingale gulped down the drink and exhaled a long breath. She nibbled one piece of dried fish and rubbed her nose. “Anytime. You’re being overpolite.”
Roland shook his head. “No, I’m not. If all the members of the exploration team of the Witch Union are killed in this operation, it’ll be a permanent loss for Neverwinter. Therefore, your job is equally important as Anna’s. You just specialize in different things. Do you understand?”
Hearing this, Nightingale could not help smiling. She soon continued to chew her dried fish as if to cover her joy and the intricacies of her little mind. “Um… right, you said the Dream World has been eroded by an unknown power. What does that mean? Will you be in danger?”
Roland was amused by the stiff manner in which she switched her subject, yet he did not point out but simply replied, “That’s a long story, but one thing is for sure, which is whatever that world becomes in the end, it won’t affect the real me. No beams of light will appear if I don’t want to dream.”
As to the unknown power, Garcia said the Martialist Association would eventually lead their new recruits to uncover the mysterious veil of the dream world. No matter what she referred to, Roland would only know what she was talking about after seeing it.
Compared with the erosion, Roland cared more about the newly amended Mathematical Olympiad textbook.