Marcellus felt a complex mix of emotions swirling within him as he listened to the priest's sermon.
The words resonated deeply, touching the depths of his soul and stirring a sense of guilt within him.
Memories of his past actions, driven by impulses and desires, flooded his mind like crashing waves against the shore.
In that moment, he felt like a small boat in a vast and turbulent sea, seeking guidance and refuge in the midst of life's storms.
The echoes of the sermon amplified as they entered his ears, cleansing his spirit and mind as if washing away the blots of his soul.
With a sense of calm settling over him, Marcellus opened his eyes as the priest finished his preachings and ended Mass.
The priest began ministering personally to the congregation individually, and men and women lined up to seek personal guidance.
Marcellus, too, rose from his seat, picked up his cutlass sword, and joined the line. He waited patiently for his turn, the weight of his past actions heavy on his shoulders.
After more than five minutes, it was finally his turn. He stepped closer to speak with the priest.
As Marcellus stepped closer to the priest, he recognized the priest.
The Priest of Storms had distinctive features that made him stand out—a deep ebony skin tone, a striking single blue eye, and intricate tattoos adorning his face and body.
In the dimly lit chamber, their eyes briefly locked in recognition. Marcellus couldn't help but feel a sense of connection with this enigmatic figure.
It was as though their meeting was fated.
"As the storm rages, so does my heart," Marcellus greeted.
The commoners in the chapel practised etiquette, while the religious partook in blessings.
"Embrace the storm," the priest shifted his body to look at Marcellus.
"I am glad you decided to join us today," the priest's voice sounded ever so gentle, a soothing balm for Marcellus's troubled soul.
Marcellus, still cloaked, pointed at his attire. "Someone is tailing me. I work for Edwin, and I wish to speak with a Stormseeker," he confessed, his voice adopting the same softness as the priest's.
The priest studied Marcellus for a moment, after a few seconds of silence, he finally spoke, "Come with me."
As he uttered those words, the priest waved to the congregation, signalling to a particular priest who nodded in acknowledgement.
Marcellus did not speak further as he walked alone down the dark stone stairwell with the aid of the refined inlaid oil lamps on both sides of the wall.
Midway, he subconsciously turned back and saw the priest standing at the entrance. He was motionless.
Marcellus looked away and continued to proceed down. It did not take long before he hit ground laid with ice-cold stone slabs. This led him to the intersection.
He turned right and saw the familiar person.
It was none other than Edwin!
Edwin stood up suddenly, knocked over a chair, and said in a fluster, "Hi, nice weather today... y-you, Blackeye, why are you here?"
"I need to speak with you," answered Marcellus.
"…You frightened me. I thought Captain came down." Edwin glared at Marcellus.
"Don't you know how to knock!? Hmph, Sometimes I forget you are low-born."
"What do you want?" Edwin's black cloak was hanging on a rack stand to his side.
Unlike his usual aristocratic tunic, he was dressed in a white linen round shirt and black pants. He looked more like a pirate. Even though his hair was tied up in a short ponytail, his blue eyes were deep, and he appeared much fresher.
"Someone is following me." Marcellus honestly answered without any embellishments.
Edwin leaned back on the table and folded his arms. His deep blue eyes silently looked at Marcellus's eyes. He did not follow up on the topic of being followed and instead, asked, "You came from the House?"
"No," Marcellus answered.
Edwin nodded gently. He did not comment on its merits or demerits as he switched the subject back. "It might be that the new hunters are effective. I heard some Bounty hunters arrived today."
Mythralis Island was known as a pirate Island on the low. It was an Island rife with vagabonds and no political importance. There were almost no nobles on this Island all year round, It was barely considered part of the Anglia Kingdom.
Before waiting for Marcellus to give his opinion, Edwin continued, "It might also be a result of that Diary. Heh, we happened to be investigating where Captain Crowe received the information about the Fontenot's Diary. Of course, we can't eliminate other people or organizations that might be seeking out this notebook."
"What should I do?" Marcellus asked in a serious voice.
Without a question, he hoped that it was the first reason.
Edwin did not immediately answer him. He raised his balled-up fist, producing a coin. He flipped it, and it landed on heads. "Return the way you came, then do anything you wish, just try to be in a public place."
"Anything?" Marcellus returned with a question.
"Anything," Edwin nodded with certainty. "Of course, do not scare them off or violate the law."
"Violate the law?"
Edwin scoffed, "Try not to kill anyone unwarranted."
"Alright." Marcellus took a deep breath and bade him farewell. He left the room and went back underground.
He turned left at the intersection and bathed in the light from the oil lamps on the two walls. He arrived silently at the empty, dark, and cold passageway.
The sound of his footsteps echoed, making him sound more alone and terrified.
Soon, Klein arrived at the stairwell. He went forward and saw a shadow standing there—the one-eyed priest.
The priest turned sideways and made his way. "Do come back; the house of my lord is always open."
He proceeded silently before returning to the prayer hall. There were still men and women lining outside, but much fewer than before.
After waiting for a moment, Marcellus slowly left the prayer hall with his sword, as though nothing had ever happened, successfully leaving Mythralis chapel.
The moment he walked out, he saw the setting sun. He immediately regained the familiar feeling of being observed. He felt like he was prey being eyed by a hawk.