Betrayal?

Beyond the moonlight on the sea, there was only endless darkness. The sea breeze howled, bringing with it a pungent, salty stench.

Ophelia stood beside him, motionless. Her golden hair was whipped by the wind, clinging to her cheeks.

She didn't speak, simply watching the distant horizon in silence.

Klein withdrew his gaze.

He knew this wait might be a long one.

With a light wave of his hand, he activated an alchemical array inscribed on a magic stone to mask their presence and silhouettes.

Any anomaly on the sea's surface would now be incredibly difficult to detect.

They were like two reefs, merging into the night.

Time ticked away, minute by minute.

The sound of crashing waves became the only background noise.

Occasionally, the horn of a ship would drift from further away, a reminder that they were not truly isolated from the world.

But that sound was quickly swallowed by the sea breeze.

Klein let out a yawn.

He wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

An alchemist's work had made him accustomed to staying up late.

However, several consecutive hours of high alert could still take a toll.

Ophelia turned her head.

"Can you still hold on?" she asked.

"Yeah," Klein answered.

He stretched his neck, which gave a faint crack.

"My mana consumption isn't high," he said.

"What about your mental state?" Ophelia pressed.

Her golden eyes shimmered faintly in the moonlight, carrying a hint of nearly imperceptible concern.

Klein gave a small laugh.

"When it comes to staying up all night, I'm a professional," he said dismissively.

"Back when I was practicing alchemy, I often went days and nights without closing my eyes."

"A situation like this is just a minor scene."

Ophelia didn't say anything more.

She just looked at him, seemingly evaluating the truth of his words. After a moment, she tilted her head slightly, returning her gaze to the distant sea.

"If you can't hold on, say so," her voice was light but exceptionally firm. "I can stand guard alone until dawn."

Klein glanced at her, watching her straight back and her golden hair that was messy one moment and smoothed by the wind the next. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but ultimately only whispered, "Understood."

The sea breeze grew stronger. The sound of the waves became clearer. They waited for a long time, so long that Klein felt as if time itself had frozen.

The eastern horizon began to turn pale. At first, it was just a faint sliver of light. Then, that white was gradually replaced by the orange-red glow of dawn.

The entire sea was dyed in magnificent colors, shifting from deep blue to orange-red, and then to golden yellow.

The morning light also fell upon Klein and Ophelia.

Their robes were tinted with a faint red.

Ophelia's golden hair glittered in the sunlight. Her profile was illuminated by the dawn, her features appearing somewhat softer.

Klein watched her instinctively. Her golden eyes met the rising sun, their color so deep they seemed capable of swallowing all light. Under such illumination, her entire being seemed to be draped in a holy radiance.

As if sensing Klein's gaze, Ophelia looked toward him as well.

Their eyes met briefly.

Klein's heart skipped a beat. He subconsciously wanted to look away, only to find that there was a certain inexplicable emotion in Ophelia's gaze too.

"It's already this late," she said, her voice a bit softer than usual.

"Let's go back."

Klein nodded. He had no objections.

"Alright," he said.

The two turned and began walking toward Silver Scale Harbor. Klein's pace remained relaxed.

The waves surged beneath his feet. Ophelia supported her body with battle qi, each of her steps creating tiny splashes.

The lights of the pier appeared in their view once more. However, as the sun had already risen, they were no longer performing their nocturnal duties.

They soon returned to the small shack used for contact. The shack was empty; the middle-aged contact was not there.

Klein looked around. The layout of the shack hadn't changed, and there were no unusual reactions. He reached out and made a light stroke in the air; a few subtle ripples of mana spread out, confirming that the room hadn't been tampered with.

He walked to the table and took a small glass bottle from his robes. It contained a small amount of blood—the blood taken from Karen.

"This is the only thing we can do for now," he said, his tone heavy.

Ophelia stood behind him. She didn't rush him, just watched silently.

Klein began to set up in the room. He took out some tools: a small alchemical furnace, several test tubes, and some unknown powders and liquids.

He cleared the table, spread a fire-resistant cloth over it, and then carefully arranged the vessels.

The entire process was orderly. Klein's movements were practiced; every step was precise and well-timed. He didn't make much noise.

Usually, they worked in established rooms, so this was the first time Ophelia had seen Klein set up an alchemical workshop from scratch. She stood to the side, watching the strange tools that seemed to come to life in Klein's hands.

Her gaze followed his every move—from taking out the vessels to lighting the furnace and mixing the reagents. Everything was like a precise ritual, and Klein was the presiding master of that ritual.

Klein lit the alchemical furnace, blue flames dancing inside. He carefully poured Karen's blood into a test tube and then added a transparent liquid.

The blood in the test tube began to change. It became more viscous, its color shifting from dark red to nearly black.

Klein picked up a thin glass rod and gently stirred the liquid in the test tube, his attention entirely focused on it.

After a brief moment of being viscous and black, the liquid in the tube slowly faded back to dark red.

Klein shook his head slightly, a flash of displeasure in his eyes.

"That's not right," he muttered to himself. "The reaction is too weak."

He then carefully divided the blood in the test tube into several portions, dripping them into the reagents he had prepared nearby.

Ophelia stood by, her gaze calm.

She didn't say a word, yet she could read his current mood from the way Klein's lips were tightly pursed and the subtle furrow of his brow.

The first attempt had clearly not met expectations. She didn't speak out of turn, simply waiting in silence. She knew that at a time like this, any interruption might distract the alchemist.

Without pause, Klein threw himself back into the experiment.

A low chant spilled from his throat as mana converged toward his eyes.

Deep within his pupils, a faint ghostly blue light began to glow.

This was a form of basic mana vision that almost all alchemists were required to learn, allowing him to perceive the energy and attributes contained within materials.

Of course, while called basic, the effectiveness of this magic varied wildly depending on the user.

With a slight movement of his fingertips, an invisible force guided the dark red liquid in the test tube. Under the reflection of the blue mana, it was precisely divided into several portions and injected into the empty test tubes prepared on the side.

Next, he picked up a row of potion vials, his movements practiced and rigorous, as he sequentially dripped liquids or powders of different colors into these separate blood samples.

Ophelia's gaze followed his hand throughout.

When he picked up a vial shimmering with a ghostly blue hue and carefully dripped it into one of the test tubes, her breathing hitched almost imperceptibly.

She was all too familiar with that cold, eerie blue—it was sea monster blood.

Her gaze involuntarily drifted to Klein's profile, trying to find some clue in his focused expression.

When had he prepared this?

Why would he carry sea monster blood with him?

However, Klein's entire focus was immersed in the alchemy before him.

His gaze pierced through the glass as if he could see the secrets hidden deep within every drop of blood, completely oblivious to everything outside.

Various reagents came into contact with the blood samples one by one. Some instantly triggered fine foam, like a boiling miniature ocean; others caused the blood color to freeze in an instant, turning into a deeper dark red before slowly dissipating.

Under the insight of Klein's mana vision, the energy fluctuations beneath these surfaces appeared clearly before him like jumping runes.

But when the sea monster blood was dripped into Karen's blood sample, the entire test tube jolted violently.

Klein's pupils constricted sharply.

In his mana vision, the moment the two types of blood touched, a violent energy confrontation erupted.

The ghostly blue sea monster blood surged with a chaotic and maddened fluctuation, while the dark red blood acted like its natural nemesis, tearing into that chaotic force.

After a brief boil, the liquid in the test tube gradually calmed down. The color had turned into an eerie deep purple.

"Is that so..." Klein whispered, his voice tinged with contemplation.

Gradually, his tight lips relaxed slightly, and the furrow in his brow smoothed out.

He didn't speak immediately, but with gentle and orderly movements, he gathered the potion vials, capped them, and put them back in their places, leaving only the vial mixed with sea monster blood.

Subsequently, he turned his gaze back to the blood samples on the table.

The furnace light reflected off his profile as his thoughts surged silently like deep-sea currents.

He began to look behind those complex and eerie reactions, searching for the deep-hidden secrets regarding Karen.

Ophelia remained behind him, silent, her golden eyes reflecting the flickering fire as she waited quietly.

Although Karen was mad, compared to the other people who had died, he had still returned alive.

In other words, there was a high probability that he held both the problem itself and the answer to it.

Even if the answer wasn't entirely complete, it was enough to point in a direction.

Klein raised his hand and rubbed his brow.

While he wasn't certain what the source of the pollution was, the experiment on Karen's blood—especially the obvious antagonistic fluctuation produced when mixed with sea monster blood—had given him enough inspiration.

"Karen's blood can suppress deep-sea pollution," he said softly, as if explaining to Ophelia, yet also talking to himself. "No, to be precise, a certain substance in Karen's blood can produce an antagonistic reaction with the pollution source in sea monster blood."

He turned around to look at Ophelia.

"Which means the song Karen heard... was very likely emitted by sea monsters."

"I can formulate something simple and targeted to deal with those things."

Ophelia's expression had been exceptionally grave upon hearing the mention of sea monsters, but her golden eyes lit up slightly after hearing Klein's next words.

"You mean..."

"Yeah," Klein nodded. "While it won't be a permanent cure, I can at least produce an alchemical potion that can temporarily suppress pollution or even drive away those deep-sea creations."

He paused and added, "Think of it as... an extra bit of insurance."

Ophelia was silent for a moment, then asked softly, "How much sea monster blood is needed?"

Klein blinked, then realized what she meant.

"Not much," he said. "And I still have some stock on hand. If it's not enough..."

"My left hand," Ophelia interrupted him, her tone calm. "If needed, you can use my left hand."

Klein's expression turned stern instantly.

"No," he said decisively. "Absolutely not."

"Although your left hand is contaminated, that's a different kind of pollution. And..." He took a deep breath. "I won't let you take that risk."

Ophelia looked at him, a flash of complex emotion in her golden eyes.

"I was just offering an option," she said.

"That option is invalid," Klein answered quickly. "I have other ways."

The two looked at each other for a moment. Finally, Ophelia gave a small nod.

"Fine," she said.

Klein flexed his stiff fingers and was about to tidy up the vessels on the table when a knock suddenly sounded at the door.

The rhythm was regular: three short, one long.

Klein looked up toward the door. With a slight flick of his finger, a magic circle at the corner of the table glowed faintly.

It was the monitoring array he had set up.

The image of the scene outside the door appeared within the light—it was the middle-aged man responsible for the contact point.

Klein turned to look at Ophelia.

Ophelia nodded slightly. Within her perception, it was indeed the middle-aged man himself outside the door. There was no disguise, and no one else was lying in ambush.

But her brow furrowed slightly.

"His emotions are wrong," she whispered. "He's very nervous, and there's... fear?"

Klein raised his hand, mana converging at his fingertips. The door latch clicked open automatically, and the door pushed inward slightly.

The middle-aged man pushed the door open and entered. He first scanned the two people in the room; seeing they were unharmed, the tension on his face eased slightly. But his expression remained serious, even a bit grim.

There were fine beads of sweat on his forehead, and his breathing was more hurried than usual.

He didn't bother with pleasantries and spoke directly:

"My lord, people from the Silver Scale Chamber of Commerce have indicated that they wish to meet with you."

Klein raised an eyebrow.

"Meet me?"

"Yes," the middle-aged man nodded, his voice very low. "And... the person they specified to see you isn't an ordinary member of the chamber; they are a core figure."

He paused and added, "They said that regarding the matter you are investigating, they have important intelligence to provide."

Klein and Ophelia exchanged a look.

"When?" Klein asked.

"Tonight," the man said. "After sunset, at the 'Deep Blue Anchor' tavern in the North District of Silver Scale Harbor. They said they are only giving you one chance."

His voice carried obvious unease.

"My lord, I feel like this... something isn't right about this."