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Chapter 887: The Decision of Vice Admiral Deep Sea

March 28th, Monday.

After many days of sailing, Ebner’s fleet finally arrived at a small island in a hidden sea region west of the Southern Continent, guided by Vice Admiral Deep Sea.

Normally, if they had taken the proper route, it wouldn’t have taken over ten days. But since what they were doing couldn’t be seen in the open, they had long since deviated from the Roselle Waterway, braving the raging seas and harsh environnt to take a route several tis longer before finally reaching this secret island.

Seems like the ships that transported slaves before also ca this way... Sigh, who knows how many people died along the journey? No wonder the Delien family still hasn’t gathered enough people for the festival in a whole year. The losses must far exceed the safe arrivals...

Damn it!

And who knows how Miss Gwen’s uncle is doing now... It’s a pity that his group had already been secretly shipped away before I arrived at Isaca Island. Miss Gwen only ever received false information, all to lure her into that ambush...

Otherwise, I definitely would’ve helped her rescue them first.

Standing at the bow of the ship, having just finished attending the Tarot Club, Ebner sighed a few tis as he gazed at the island now appearing in sight.

Speaking of which, the recent Tarot Gatherings hadn’t brought up anything particularly noteworthy. Miss Justice was still carrying out the tasks of the Psychological Alchemists while secretly probing for the whereabouts of the Queen of Calamity.

Miss Magician was still traveling with the circus, and had just entered the territory of Loen.

Miss Judgnt had completely digested her Judge potion and, through Ebner, bought the Disciplinary Paladin characteristic from Jane. She only needed the military to approve her ritual application before she could complete her advancent.

Miss Temperance still hadn’t completed her demigod ritual and remained absent.

Lady Hermit, as always, drifted apart from the other mbers—observing more than speaking.

The Sun was accompanying his chief, exploring the path to the royal court, but so far hadn’t discovered much.

Mr. Moon, anwhile, was once again showing off at the gathering. He claid that without much effort, he had already digested part of his Potion Professor potion. But according to The World, this was probably because he frequently lectured the common believers in the Harvest Church on herbalism, and even so special combinations of potions.

Besides collecting marionettes, researching history, and volunteering at the Church, he also loved studying different potion formulas for use in combat situations. That was why his digestion progress was so impressive.

The World—Klein—had nothing unusual either. Other than occasionally hearing that he had taken down another pirate to claim a bounty, only Ebner knew that most of his ti was still spent sweeping floors and scrubbing toilets...

Mr. Hanged Man had, by providing intelligence, support, and fencing services to The World, finally accumulated enough funds from his share of the bounties. He bought from Miss Magician the eyeball of a Three-eyed Thunderbird, thus obtaining both main ingredients needed for the Ocean Songster potion... Unfortunately, the Obnins sea monster required for the ritual was still missing.

Although Ebner roughly knew its location from the original tiline, that would only be months later. And a sea monster didn’t just stay in one place, so it was completely unreliable.

As Ebner recalled the Tarot eting, the naval fleet had already docked at the pier, mooring by a simple wooden jetty.

Snapping back to reality, Ebner entered a seemingly plain yet lavishly decorated manor under the welco of the staff stationed there.

No sooner had he settled in than his Owen avatar requested to first inspect the slaves that had been brought here.

The request wasn’t unusual—after all, Owen was sent to oversee the ritual, and ensuring the "sacrifices" were intact was only natural.

Very soon, under the lead of the managers stationed there, he entered a secluded area deep inside the island.

Ebner originally thought the slaves brought here would be penned up like livestock, surviving only on the bare minimum, surrounded by scenes of misery...

But reality was the complete opposite!

The mont he entered, he saw a town with a polished, glamorous facade.

The streets bustled with people, shops lined the roads with plentiful goods, and restaurants sent out streams of smoke carrying mouthwatering scents...

At first glance, aside from its smaller size, the town was no different from the bustling comrcial districts of cities like Backlund.

But soon, Ebner realized sothing was wrong. So people weren’t paying when they shopped; they simply took things. They beat and cursed the shopkeepers, even ripping off won’s clothes in the streets to satisfy primal urges...

Those being robbed and violated clearly seethed with hatred and rage, yet endured in silence, as if resigned to fate.

Frowning, Ebner turned to the manager beside him.

He hadn’t known anything about this place beforehand, and couldn’t understand why the "sacrifices" lived like this.

The manager quickly explained, aware of his guest’s confusion—it was the sa with everyone seeing it for the first ti:

"This is the rule of the town—’Joyous Town’... We provide every slave who arrives here with everything: fine clothes, comfortable housing, exquisite food... With only one exception—they may not kill. Otherwise, they can do whatever they wish!

"But there is one condition: before they can enjoy, they must first serve others for a week. Only then can they earn a week of ’joy’!

"During the service, they must accept anything and everything demanded of them. No resistance allowed—otherwise they lose their chance at ’enjoynt.’

"This place is both paradise and hell."

So that’s it... But this isn’t ’Joyous Town’ at all—it’s a City of Desire, a City of Demons!

The "servers" endure suffering, harbor hatred, and curse the "enjoyers." Then, once they beco "enjoyers," they vent everything they endured upon the next "servers"...

Indulging in desire, unleashing malice, enduring pain, and cursing others, over and over again...

As I guessed, this is about cultivating suitable sacrifices for the Shadow World. The so-called ’Deep Sea Festival’ is really a ans to use sea monsters that once bore the imprint of an Origin characteristic to communicate with the Shadow World...

And these managers aren’t just supervisors—they, too, are part of the sacrifices. Manipulating hearts and desires is also a trait of the Shadow World. Without them, the ritual couldn’t be complete.

Glancing at the manager, who was still speaking with enthusiasm, Ebner shook his head inwardly. This fool probably doesn’t even know the fate awaiting him.

But why forbid killing here...? Hmm, if killing were allowed, the number of sacrifices would quickly drop—that does make sense. Still, "killing" is also a form of desire. Forbidding it seems detrintal to the ritual...

Wait... The pirates under Vice Admiral Deep Sea, and the navy soldiers I brought... I see now—they too are part of the sacrifices!

Of course. With so many witnesses to this ritual, keeping the secret would be impossible. Yet over the years, so little information has leaked... Heh, that must be because, apart from Vice Admiral Deep Sea and a few supervisors like , everyone else beca part of the ceremony.

In fact, if this really is the final Deep Sea Festival... then Vice Admiral Deep Sea and I might also be sacrifices...

No wonder Harl dared defy the sea monster, trying to draw in the powers behind Gwen, Lydia, and Trun. He must have sensed danger.

And while the Pri Minister being too busy to preside over the ritual seems normal... think carefully: when has a Pri Minister ever not been busy? Why could he always make ti before, but not this ti?

Did he sell out Owen?

Does he think the ritual lacks Lust, and so placed Owen on the altar? Or perhaps Owen’s dealings with George III crossed his bottom line?

If I really were Owen, I might only realize at the very last mont...

As these thoughts raced, Ebner felt that his previous preparations weren’t secure. If this truly was the final Festival, then the hidden big shots—such as the Grand Duke of Blood or the Mother Tree of Desire—might have other ans!

And his own preparations had only been arranging etings with Cressfia, Helene, and even Karen aboard the Black Throne...

But now it seems that’s far from enough. At the very least, I need an angel to hold the line!

Yet I don’t know many angels... Who should I turn to, and how would I persuade them?

Should I directly ask the Mother Goddess or the Goddess?

Not impossible... True, once I entered this island, I sensed it was covered by so force cutting off prayer to true gods...

But that’s nothing—I can always "wall-hop" through Mr. Fool to connect!

As he calculated inwardly, Ebner continued strolling through the town with the manager.

He found the facilities here far more complete than expected. There were teachers instructing etiquette, costics, and deportnt, able to turn a shabby female slave into a passable "noble lady" in just days.

There were also ntors in literature, painting, and music, generously teaching those eager to learn.

In short, the range of instructors was so extensive it rivaled a comprehensive university—if not even more complete!

"Human desires are diverse. So don’t like won, so don’t like pleasure, so don’t like venting... So we also fulfill their spiritual desires," the manager added with a smile.

This is... absurd. Ebner suddenly felt the situation surreal. These demons and cultists are actually doing better in education than the great cities of the Northern Continent. They invest freely, and completely cater to the desires of those being taught...

Yes, he could see the teachers’ true nature. They were all sea monster dependents, long since turned into aberrations wearing human skin. Yet in life, each must have been an expert in their own field.

So they aren’t teachers—they’re the sea monster’s "priests." While teaching knowledge, they guide those not ruled by bodily lust into giving their faith to the sea monster. Truly insidious!

Suppressing a shudder, Ebner played along with the manager’s chatter. Soon, they encountered the latest batch of slaves to arrive.

With the ritual imminent, these hadn’t had the chance to "serve" or "enjoy." They were isolated, left to stew in fear of the "servers" and envy of the "enjoyers."

This state too, naturally, fit the ritual’s requirents.

Ebner scanned the group and quickly spotted Miss Gwen’s uncle. Having been educated, he wasn’t as numb as the others, but he was still shocked by what he saw, his emotions deeply conflicted...

Rembering his agreent with Gwen aboard the Black Throne, Ebner quietly inserted a virtual persona into the man’s mind to monitor him and prevent any accidents.

With that done, he left the town and returned to the seaside manor with the manager.

...

anwhile, after fierce inner struggle, Vice Admiral Deep Sea Hal Constantine finally made his decision and uttered the honorific left behind by that mysterious figure:

"The Unknown Land Connected by the Pure White Eye..."

(End of Chapter)

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