"Wait here for a bit."
Before anyone could react, Edward had already flickered out of sight and reappeared in his bedroom.
How should I perform Deconstruction on myself?
He pondered for a mont, then stepped into the washroom. Standing before the mirror, he gazed at his youthful reflection and activated [Deconstruction] with a thought. Instantly, countless mysterious and intricate characters shimred deep within his eyes.
A second later, his sight pierced through his clothes and skin, diving into the depths of his flesh and organs. His vision zood in further—down to the level of individual cells.
A third layer of focus—and those cells transford into streams of data, each segnt resembling an encoded string of symbols. Every piece contained information: most belonging to Edward himself, a few fragnts to Bernadette—specifically, the "mory data" she had of him.
But those mories were shattered and scattered among different strands of code, intertwined—his within hers, hers within his—blended together in a complex fusion.
Monts later, the deconstruction finished—or more accurately, the preliminary deconstruction did. He had successfully identified the root of the problem, yet to remove those "corrupted data fragnts," he would need a much longer and deeper deconstruction process.
As the mysterious symbols faded from his eyes, Edward exited the self-deconstruction state, a spark of satisfaction lighting his face. He couldn't fix it in one go, but he was more than content.
No matter how much ti it took, it was still far better than waiting a century for a cure!
At that very mont, he sensed movent in his body—the potion of the Deconstruction Scholar was showing signs of digestion. His grin widened in surprise.
That works too?
Could it be that this ti, I'll fully digest the potion through my own efforts alone?
That's fantastic!
When Edward reappeared, still glowing with joy, Dubois hurriedly asked, "Boss, did you figure out how to fix it?"
"Mm. I've got a direction now, but it'll take a while."
He waved his small hand airily. "Co on, eat up! When you're done, I'll take you out to play."
Bernadette's eyes lit up. "Yay!"
As Edward downed his milk in one gulp, a sudden thought crossed his mind. He frowned and looked seriously at Dubois.
"Dubois, there's sothing I absolutely must emphasise to you!"
Dubois straightened instantly. "Yes, sir?"
"I really, really, really don't like n!!!"
"???"
———
Oravi Island.
A hundred years ago, Oravi was still a newly developed colony. The Kingdom of Loen used it mainly as a place of exile for convicts. Only after Emperor Roselle opened the sea route to the Southern Continent did Oravi, with its excellent geographical position, begin to flourish and thrive.
Still, the Church of the Storm had already built Saint Draco Cathedral early on, though its scale was far smaller than it would be in the future. From afar, one could spot the bold clock tower painted in red, blue, and yellow.
Edward had co here to return the Die of Probability. The night before (three weeks ago), just before consuming his potion, he had even asked the sentient die to roll for him—and it had co up a five. The promotion to Sequence 3 had succeeded, yes—but it had also caused a "problem" with his humanity.
He couldn't tell whether this outco was the result of "enhanced good luck" or the "punishnt" Little Snake had warned him about for overdrawing fortune. Either way, Edward decided the best course of action was to stay far, far away from such incomprehensible artifacts—and to return it as soon as possible.
Since the little snake hadn't said whom exactly to et on Oravi, Edward could only think of the location where, in the future, he would retrieve the die from that Councillor—the bridge under the lighthouse. But that man had hidden there because he was injured; it was unlikely he'd be around at this ti.
"Eh? Where are we, Mr. Sparrow?"
Bernadette looked around curiously, then skipped up a small slope, shading her eyes from the dazzling sunlight as she gazed at the endless expanse of sapphire sea. "Wow! It's so beautiful!"
Edward followed beside her. "Mm. It really is."
"I thought you were going to take to et a rmaid—or to see Daddy." The little girl pouted. "Why'd we co here instead?"
"Got to take care of sothing first," Edward replied, beckoning her forward. "After that, we'll go find the rmaid. This ti, we won't have to wander around aimlessly. I can take you straight to them."
"Really?"
Bernadette's eyes shone with excitent, though a hint of disappointnt flickered through soon after. Does that an we won't get to ride the Fairy-Tale Pirate Ship on our adventures anymore…?
When they reached a spot just four or five ters from the lighthouse, the brown wooden door creaked open. Out stepped a slender woman, though her gait was strangely off.
She looked about twenty years old—beautiful at first glance, even refined—but a closer look revealed that her features and proportions didn't quite match, as if sothing about her body had been assembled wrong.
She looked exactly like the future lighthouse keeper.
"Could she be another one of the Church of Earth Mother's alchemy experints?" Edward frowned slightly. "Strange…why does the Church keep creating these artificial 'humans' and leaving them here to guard the lighthouse?"
"Ah!" Bernadette quickly noticed the woman's odd proportions too. She darted behind Edward, whispering nervously, "She…she looks really weird."
The woman, however, seed entirely unfazed—clearly used to such reactions. She showed no surprise that her visitors were children, rely asked in a gentle voice, "Excuse , are you here to deliver sothing?"
"That's right."
Edward took out the jewellery box that held the Die of Probability.
"You joined the Life School of Thought as well?"
"Yes, sir."
A flicker of doubt crossed the woman's face. "May I ask…have you t others like who also joined the Life School of Thought?"
"Uh, no."
Edward didn't elaborate further. He shook the box lightly. "You should know what this thing is, right? Can you handle it?"
"I can, sir."
"Good."
He tossed the box to her with a flick of his wrist and asked casually, "You used to belong to the Church of the Earth Mother, didn't you?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then why did you join the Life School of Thought now?"
The woman's asymtrical facial muscles tugged into a strange smile. "Because I'm a failure—a defective creation the Life School of Thought took in."
"Human refinent isn't exactly the Church of Earth Mother's speciality. How could you have failed?"
She shook her head. "That, I don't know. I'm just an abandoned reject. I'm not qualified to know more than that."
"Alright. Thank you."
The woman bowed slightly. "May good fortune be with you."
Then she turned and walked back into the lighthouse.
Mystic symbols flashed briefly in Edward's eyes as he deconstructed her. The analysis confird she was exactly what she appeared to be—a simple alchemical product, nothing special.
But that was precisely what made it strange. The Church of the Earth Mother wouldn't waste resources experinting on sothing this trivial…would they?
Still, it wasn't his concern. No need to chase every mystery down to its roots.
"Alright then, let's go find the rmaids."
"Okay~"
———
Sea of Ruins
The Fairy Tale, the heavily modified Black Tulip, sliced through the gleaming blue waves. Bernadette, dressed in a flamboyant pirate outfit, was in the middle of a fierce battle with Snow White and the Evil Queen.
She was hopelessly bad but ridiculously enthusiastic—chattering away as she played.
"Hahaha! I've got four twos and a pair of jokers! Who can beat now?!"
The little girl finally had a perfect hand and shouted in triumph.
"Airplane."
The Evil Queen calmly laid down her cards.
"…"
Bernadette's smug grin froze in place before she let out a dramatic wail.
Edward stood off to the side, arms crossed, rolling his eyes at her antics.
Honestly...taking a ship to reach the rmaids when she could teleport there instantly? That was the definition of overcomplicating things.
So, he quietly used Wandering and False Reality to perform small spatial jumps every few minutes, moving the entire ship closer to their destination.
At this pace, they'd reach the rmaids' territory in about twenty minutes.
Truth be told, he was far more interested in finding Roselle than the rmaids. He wondered if the emperor had already reached that primitive island, if he'd been subtly tainted by the Mother Goddess's power.
"Tsk. I didn't think much of it before, but now that I recall—damn, isn't it frustrating? I've crossed worlds, yet I still tiptoe around every tragedy, afraid to change anything."
"Always cautious, always holding back—it's suffocating!"
He grinned suddenly. "If you think it, do it. That's my ninja way!"
As for the consequences?
Well, they'd deal with those later. If the sky fell, wasn't there always an Uzumaki to hold it up?
Then he smacked himself on the forehead. "Ugh, too much Boruto. I'm getting childish."
Bernadette threw her half-played cards onto the deck with a growl. "This round doesn't count!"
She took a deep breath, puffed out her chest, and declared, "Next round—I'm definitely going to win!"
"Eh?"
Suddenly, she stood up and pointed at the distant horizon. "Captain Sparrow, is that ship coming toward us?"
She and Edward had been here several tis before, so she knew other ships weren't uncommon—but this was the first ti one was headed directly for them.
Edward raised an eyebrow. A pirate ship.
The n aboard wielded weapons, scowling and shouting, and the gunners had already turned their cannons toward the Fairy Tale. Clearly, this wasn't a friendly visit.
The last few tis they ca here, Edward had used spatial concealnt to hide the Fairy Tale's presence. This ti, he'd been lazy—and got spotted right away.
"Well, well!"
Edward's eyes glead with excitent as he walked to Bernadette's side. "Bernie, let's play a ga—'Pirate Hunt.'"
Bernadette's eyes lit up, and with the commanding air of a true pirate queen, she raised her arm high.
"All hands, battle stations! Crush them!"
———
In the depths of the Fog Sea—Aboard the Black King.
"April 21st. I saw the abyss."
Roselle wrote the words carefully in his diary, then lifted his gaze through the captain's cabin window.
Beyond the glass stretched an expanse of dark sea—and a jagged mountain that oozed black miasma, pulsing like a living creature. The air itself reeked of calamity, peril, and misfortune.
His instincts scread at him: End this voyage here.
Yet, beneath that warning surged an uncontrollable yearning.
He wanted to go deeper.
He needed to know what lay within the abyss.
He had to see if, beyond it, the legendary Western Continent truly awaited.
He couldn't tell whether this craving was pure curiosity or the influence of the abyss corrupting his mind.
Even with the many mystical artifacts gifted by the archbishop, as a re Sequence 6, Roselle simply couldn't withstand the pull of that power.
His mind was painfully lucid—he knew perfectly well that ordering his crew to continue would be foolish.
And yet, he couldn't stop himself.
So, he made a decision.
A desperate, almost comical one.
Evil God, save .
He shut the curtains, pressed his hands together, and in a tone of reverence he had never before used, began to pray:
"The Eternal Sovereign Above Dinsions;
The Deconstructor of Endless Stories;
The Transcender of Past and Future—
Respected Chairman…
I seem to have fallen under the influence of so terrible power…I am about to make an exceedingly irrational decision. I sincerely beg you…to extend your hand and save …"
———
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