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The group boarded a transport vehicle heading toward the headquarters.
During the ride, Rover briefly recounted their experiences in the Seven Hills. He mentioned their clashes with the Fractsidus and Mia's tragic sacrifice. Naturally, he omitted the intimate details of what happened at the hotel, but he vividly described fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with Lupa against a formidable enemy.
When he spoke of "Lupa"—especially about her absolute trust and seamless teamwork—his tone unconsciously carried an undeniable trace of protectiveness... and tenderness.
This subtle shift did not escape the sharp ears of his audience in the vehicle.
The Shorekeeper remained perfectly silent. Only the fingertips of her hands, resting neatly in her lap, curled inward almost imperceptibly.
Camellya, on the other hand, rested her chin in her hand. The smile on her face grew dangerously playful. Her gaze swept over the side of Rover's face as if she were listening to the most fascinating joke in the world, her ruby lips curving into a highly suggestive arc.
Cartethyia spent most of the ride quietly staring out the window at the passing wonders of the Black Shores: glowing coral reefs, bizarre swimming creatures, and the utterly unique architecture.
Her emotional radar was still a bit dull, but even she vaguely sensed the suffocating tension in the air. The way Miss Shorekeeper and Miss Camellya looked at Rover was filled with a profound complexity she couldn't even begin to decipher.
That evening, The Shorekeeper hosted a modest welcome dinner for Rover and Cartethyia.
The dining room was elegant and tranquil. Beyond the windows lay the deep, mesmerizing nightscape of the Black Shores. Scattered across the grass, Tacetite blooms swayed in the wind, emitting a faint glow like a river of fallen stars.
The dishes were mostly local Black Shores specialties—primarily exquisitely prepared seafood. At the center of the table sat a massive lobster alongside a steaming, aromatic bowl of creamy seafood chowder, surrounded by an array of visually stunning and mouth-watering delicacies.
Of course, ever the perfect host, The Shorekeeper had thoughtfully prepared a few authentic Laguna dishes for Cartethyia. Having learned of her preferences, she even had the kitchen whip up a vibrant bowl of Greenbranch Laurel Salad.
During the meal, Abu stuffed its face happily, loudly complaining that it had grown tired of the food in Laguna and the Seven Hills. It declared that the Black Shores had the best cuisine, effectively acting as the table's cheerful, mood-lightening mascot.
Rover and The Shorekeeper discussed recent events and official Black Shores business. Their tone was familiar and completely natural, showing no signs of distance despite their time apart. Meanwhile, Camellya chimed in occasionally, teasing Rover for "having so much fun outside he forgot his way home."
She aimlessly poked at her food with a fork, never actually taking a bite, her gaze constantly drifting back to Rover.
"Speaking of which," Camellya suddenly set down her fork and looked at Rover with a beaming smile, her tone deceivingly casual. "That gladiator... Miss Lupa, was it? She sounds like a highly skilled and fascinating woman. To be able to synergize so perfectly with our Supreme Leader in combat... how incredibly rare."
Rover paused mid-bite, but quickly recovered his composure. "She is indeed a very outstanding and reliable comrade," he replied smoothly.
"Oh? Just a comrade?" Camellya dragged out the syllables, leaning forward slightly, her eyes brimming with a predatory curiosity. "She's the very first 'comrade' our dense block of wood of a leader has ever spoken about with such a sickeningly sweet tone. Right, Little Carty? What do you think?"
She suddenly tossed the grenade over to Cartethyia, who had been eating in complete silence.
Caught entirely off guard while trying to blend into the background, Cartethyia nearly choked on her food.
She quickly chewed and swallowed, looking up at Camellya. Her icy blue eyes were completely flustered as she gave a totally irrelevant answer. "I... I think Miss Lupa is very brave. Her combat skills are exceptional..."
The Shorekeeper gently placed her soup spoon down. The seemingly accidental clink against the ceramic bowl successfully drew everyone's attention, neatly rescuing Cartethyia from the crossfire.
She looked at Cartethyia with a mild gaze. "Miss Cartethyia, is the food to your liking? If there is anything you are not accustomed to, I can have the kitchen adjust it immediately."
"It is... very delicious. Thank you," Cartethyia answered hastily, shooting The Shorekeeper a deeply grateful look.
The minor turbulence seemed to have passed, but a tense, incredibly delicate atmosphere continued to suffocate the dining table.
Especially whenever Rover's gaze met The Shorekeeper's. Beneath her perfectly tranquil eyes, he could feel a buried scrutiny—and perhaps, a faint trace of... loneliness?
And when Camellya "accidentally" brushed her foot against Rover's leg under the table, flashing him a sly, dangerously provocative look, the raging undercurrent of tension in the room practically manifested into physical form.
Cartethyia ate quietly. The food was spectacular, but the invisible, bizarre pressure crushing the air around her was something she completely failed to understand. Honestly, dealing with this felt far more terrifying than facing Leviathan, the Threnodian "mother" who had birthed her just to throw her away.
Keeping her icy blue eyes cast downward, the apprehension she had felt upon arriving at the harbor quietly crept back in.
Lady Shorekeeper, Miss Camellya... and the Righteous One. There was an incredibly deep, impenetrable connection between the three of them—a profound bond forged and tempered by the passage of countless ages. She couldn't even begin to insert herself into it.
It involuntarily reminded her of that morning in the Seven Hills. That exact same, chest-tightening feeling of "wrongness."
Dinner finally concluded under a veneer of superficial harmony that barely masked the raging storm beneath.
Rover escorted Cartethyia to her prepared guest room. The corridor was dead silent, echoing only with their footsteps.
"Get a good night's rest," he said, standing at her door with his usual gentle tone. "Tomorrow, I'll take you to see The Shorekeeper. She'll run a comprehensive diagnostic on you. There's nothing to worry about."
"Understood. Thank you, Righteous One." Cartethyia nodded.
Noticing that she looked even more heavily burdened by her thoughts than she did at dinner, Rover added, "The Black Shores is completely safe. The Shorekeeper and Camellya... while they have drastically different personalities, they are comrades you can trust absolutely. You don't need to feel constrained or anxious here."
"I understand." Cartethyia nodded again, though the bewilderment and faint, almost imperceptible sense of alienation in her eyes didn't entirely fade.
She needed time to digest everything she had experienced tonight.
She closed the door, sealing away the outside world. Leaning her back against the heavy wood, Cartethyia let out a long breath. The nights at the Black Shores seemed infinitely more complicated than she could have ever imagined.
Having settled Cartethyia in, Rover turned and headed toward his own quarters.
Facing the empty, silent corridor, he let out a soft exhale. The invisible clash of blades at the dinner table had been far more mentally exhausting than fighting a gruesome battle. And he knew full well that the real "trial" was only just beginning.
He began walking toward his familiar bedroom. The soft glow of the wall sconces stretched his shadow across the floor. The air was thick with the Black Shores' unique Resonance field—tranquil on the surface, yet hiding a turbulent undercurrent.
He could practically foresee it: tonight was not going to be a peaceful one.
The understanding, empathetic Shorekeeper was one thing. But a certain Miss Camellya was absolutely not going to let this perfect opportunity for a night raid slip by.
And this time, he knew he could no longer sidestep the issue like he had in the past.
But then again... this time, he had no intention of avoiding it anyway.
...
.....
Rover returned to his room, located on the upper levels of the headquarters with a sweeping view of the bay.
The furnishings were exactly as he had left them, completely spotless, as if he had never been gone.
The room carried the Black Shores' signature scent of purified sea breeze... woven with a very faint, almost imperceptible fragrance of camellia flowers.
He walked over to the window, gazing out at the soft, phosphorescent glow of the moonlit sea. He let out a long breath, finally allowing the comforting, relaxed sensation of being home to wash over him.
Just then, an incredibly light, nearly undetectable set of footsteps sounded from behind him.
Rover's body stiffened. His right hand instinctively moved to draw his sword from his Tacet Mark, but he immediately relaxed his posture.
In the entirety of the Black Shores, there was only one other person besides The Shorekeeper who could infiltrate his room this silently.
He didn't even bother turning around. He simply let out a helpless, breathy chuckle. "I see a locked door is still practically non-existent to you. But breaking into someone else's room without knocking isn't exactly polite, you know."