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Chapter 956: Thunder and Lightning

Although Lightning had promised to go talk to the explorer, she didn’t expect much.

Roland knew she was searching for Thunder. If he’d heard anything, he would have told her. He hadn’t—so most likely this Sander Flyingbird knew nothing either.

Still, Maggie and Lorgar had asked. She’d do it for their peace of mind.

She crossed the hall and immediately revised her opinion of the man—downward.

The explorer from the Fjords named Sander Flyingbird appeared to be around thirty. His right eye was masked. The eye mask was embroidered with a fresh rose. More than half of his face was covered by a tattoo of rose twigs and leaves. The fashion sense was objectively poor.

An outstanding explorer shouldn’t judge a book by its cover—true. But Lightning wasn’t impressed by what she could observe of his conduct either.

He was in the middle of describing one of his thrilling adventures—it turned out to be Searing Flame Islands, though the words and expressions he chose made his listeners feel he’d reached the edge of Hell or the end of the ocean. Searing Flame Island was a genuinely perilous place: lava constantly ejected from the seabed, enormous steam columns blocking visibility and scalding crew members. Nevertheless, after generations of exploration the area had been fully charted. Adventurers simply followed the correct route and entered at the right season to avoid the hazards.

She had visited the main island, Flaming Mountain, with her father before she was ten years old.

Among the Fjord people, only those who discovered new sailing routes, islands, or ancient relics were considered true explorers. Thousands of islands scattered the Swirling Sea, and thousands of people called themselves explorers—but the differences in skill, experience, and ability were vast. Very few, in Lightning’s estimation, could sit equal with her father. Sander Flyingbird was obviously not one of them.

She had nearly turned to leave when a hand found hers.

Margaret. The female merchant beamed at her with the particular warmth she reserved for moments when she was about to ask something.

“Good timing, little one.” She drew Lightning forward. “Let me introduce Mr. Sander. He’s from Twin Dragon Island, chairman of Dragonhead’s Chamber of Commerce, and one of your father’s greatest admirers.”

I already knew his title. Lightning swallowed the comment and managed a smile. “Hello. I’m Lightning. I’m also from the Fjords, though I wasn’t born on the Fjord Islands.”

“Ah—so you’re Sir Thunder’s daughter!” Sander’s face lit with genuine pleasure. “Ms. Margaret mentioned you. We’ve finally met. You look quite like him, you know.”

You’re lying. Father never said I look like him. I look more like my mother, whom I’ve never met. Lightning kept her expression polite. “Thank you. Do you have any news about him?”

“Rumors only, I’m afraid.” His tone sobered. “Some say he’s stranded on an unknown island. Others say he’s returned to the Fjords—that something unusual happened after the shipwreck, and he’s keeping a low profile while recruiting for his next voyage. I don’t give much weight to the other theories—especially those harboring ill designs.” A pause. “Personally, I lean toward the second. The reefs around where the storm struck give a skilled man plenty to work with, and many of his crew survived. Sir Thunder could get himself out of worse.”

That matched her own assessment almost exactly. She revised her opinion of the man—slightly upward.

She didn’t spend much time worrying whether her father was looking for her. As long as she held to her own path, they would meet again somewhere. That was the nature of exploration.

“By the way—which island did you discover?”

A flicker of embarrassment crossed his face. “Well—I can’t misrepresent myself to His Majesty, so I’ll be honest. I became an explorer largely because of your father. The discovery of Shadow Islands tempted many people, including our Chamber of Commerce, to push further into that region. We set out to supply a transfer island. A Sea Monster attacked the fleet midway and drove us off course—which led us to an island not yet on any chart.”

As I expected. One of the lucky ones—not trained, just fortunate.

“That’s the nature of exploration, isn’t it?” Lightning kept her voice even. “I’ll leave you with His Majesty. Excuse me.” She turned to Roland and dipped a curtsy. “Your Majesty, please excuse me.”

Roland seemed slightly absent-minded; it took him a moment to surface. “Ah—yes, off you go,” he said, blankly.

She noted that—he’s been strange tonight—but didn’t worry over it. Nightingale was watching him. Whatever it was, it wasn’t her concern.

What was her concern was that Mystery Moon had still not appeared, and the first contest of the Exploration Group would not wait.


Watching the little girl scuttle away, Roland was quietly stunned.

Thunder is a born actor.

His performance had been so seamless that even his own daughter hadn’t suspected a thing.

No—technically that isn’t quite right. Had Roland not been told beforehand, he would never have connected “Sander Flyingbird” with the man who had stepped off the ship.

The feast had been arranged partly to give Thunder a plausible reason to be in Neverwinter. Roland had originally planned two halls—one large, one small—with distinguished guests received separately in the smaller room, as was common among nobles. Thunder had waved this off as unnecessary. One hall would do.

Roland hadn’t objected. After all, Thunder was the one who didn’t want to meet his daughter. And then Thunder had shed his fur coat and walked into the banquet hall a different man—and Roland had nearly missed him entirely. The explanation came afterward: a gel substance and pearl powder accounted for the change in skin; the dramatic tattoo and eye mask drew the eye away from the border between the gel and his bare skin. The voice shift was a skill developed across years of exploration.

Roland hadn’t entirely believed this.

Everyone had their own distinctive character—a particular way of standing, of breathing, of choosing words. Even with a changed voice and a changed face, it shouldn’t be easy to slip past a daughter who had lived with you for over ten years.

And yet it had been. In a single transformation, the original forty-year-old explorer had been replaced by a vain, boastful young chairman of a Chamber of Commerce—so completely that Lightning had walked away without a second look.

Roland could think of only one other person with that level of ability.

May.

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