Lovene raised her eyebrow slightly.
Clearly, Clement had also noticed the strangeness of the white mist.
“Has this territory always been like this?” Lovene asked.
Clement waved his hand, his expression turning solemn.
“No, at least not over a year ago.”
Over a year ago, he had visited the Oswell territory and caught a glimpse of Marcus. Back then, though Marcus was still suffering from contamination, he was still far from death.
At that time, the Oswell territory was no different from any other.
After that, Clement and Lovene had parted ways. He also wanted to investigate this territory, but his approach was different from hers; he preferred to gather information from people's mouths.
So, he began to wander around the lord's manor, attempting to find any servant willing to talk. Lovene watched his figure disappear down the end of the hallway, then turned around and said to Mia:
“Let's go to the study.”
“The study?”
“Yes. Every lord's manor has a study. The archives, documents, and local annals preserved within them do not lie.”
Mia nodded and followed her. They walked back and forth along the corridors a few times before finally stopping in front of a half-open door. A line of faded gold lettering was carved on one side of the doorframe: Library.
Lovene pushed the door open.
The study was not large, but the bookshelves were packed full. A faint, crisp scent of old paper lingered in the air. Aside from that, the floor was clean, indicating it was regularly maintained.
There was only one blue-light lantern here, hanging by the door. Its weak glow could only illuminate the spines of the books on the front shelves. Deep inside, it was dim and shadowy, as if harboring some secret.
A young maid was crouching in the corner, wiping down a bookshelf. She wore a gray homespun dress, and her hair was tied back. Upon hearing footsteps, she quickly stood up.
When she realized the newcomer was the Saintess of the Church of the Morning Light, her face flushed red, and she lowered her head in flustered restraint.
“M-My Lady...”
She was the Saintess of the Church, with a status far exceeding that of Viscount Oswell. On ordinary days, a maid like her would never get to see someone of such high standing even once in her lifetime.
Not to mention, Lady Elena had instructed them to host the Saintess well.
It was just... she didn't know what the Saintess's temperament was like. If she was like those arrogant nobles, she would probably be made to suffer today...
Recalling some of the incidents that had occurred when other nobles visited Viscount Oswell, she lowered her head and couldn't help but bite her lip gently.
However, Lovene walked over and gave a sweet smile.
“Hello, we are emissaries of the Church. We would like to look up some historical records regarding the Oswell territory. Would it be alright if we stayed here for a while?”
The maid raised her head, stole a glance at her, and then quickly looked down again, the tips of her ears burning red.
“Y-Yes, of course... My L-Lady didn't say we couldn't...”
Her voice grew smaller and smaller until it was barely audible. She clutched the rag in her hand, stepped aside to make way, and unconsciously wrung her fingers against her apron.
Huh? Did the Saintess really need to ask her permission for such a trivial matter?
She was just a lowly maid.
“Thank you.”
Lovene's smile grew even sweeter.
The Saintess is so beautiful, so gentle...
At that thought, the maid's face turned even redder. Keeping her head down, she quickly walked out of the study, nearly tripping over the threshold at the doorway.
Mia leaned against the doorframe, watching the maid disappear down the corridor, and then looked at Lovene's back. Her expression remained blank, but her fingers lightly tapped the hilt of her sword.
“Your Highness.”
“Hmm?”
“You are very good at this.”
“Good at what?”
Mia turned her face away and didn't answer. Lovene looked at her and blinked innocently.
She didn't understand.
Seeing that Mia remained silent, Lovene had no choice but to redirect her attention and began browsing the books in the study. Soon, she found the Oswell Territory Annals among the collection.
The history of the Oswell territory was longer than she had imagined. Long before the Church and the Empire had ever reached this land, people were already living here.
At that time, the Oswell territory did not have a name. It was merely a small seaside village with only a few rows of low stone houses and a dirt road leading inland.
The villagers made a living by fishing. Their lives were poor but not overly difficult, until they discovered the "god" in the sea.
Lovene pulled a thicker booklet from the shelf. It had no title on the cover, only a strange symbol resembling a swirling vortex, or perhaps some kind of open eye.
The contents inside were the diary of a missionary, recording his observations while preaching in this village.
“‘Legend has it that the village has enemies, and those enemies come from the sun.’”
She read aloud, her voice sounding exceptionally clear in the quiet study.
“‘The sea god protects this village, demanding in return that the village offer three children under three years of age every year for it to consume.’”
Mia's breath hitched, and a sharp gleam flashed in her eyes.
“...Sacrificing children?”
Lovene turned to the next page.
“‘The villagers believe that the sun brings drought, disease, and death, and that the sea god can prevent all of this. As long as they offer sacrifices on time, the sea god will calm the waters and let the mist cover the sky, preventing the malice of the sun from descending.’”
She raised her head and glanced out the window. The mist was still there, a blanket of white that blocked out all light.
“What happened next?” Mia asked.
Lovene continued flipping through the booklet.
“‘Later, the Viscount Oswell family was enfeoffed here. The first generation Viscount was a man of swift and decisive action. He led knights and priests of the Church to tear down the village's altars and burn the statues of the sea god.’”
“‘He told the villagers that there was no sea god, that it was merely an ancient, false rumor.’”
She turned to the last page, which was stamped with a red heraldic seal, identical to the crest of the Viscount Oswell family.
“They dispelled the village's superstitions and named this place the Oswell territory. Over several decades, the original small village developed into the fief capital it is today.”
Mia pressed further:
“Then... what about the sea god? Did it really exist?”
Lovene closed the booklet, her fingers brushing against the vortex symbol on the cover.
“There is no information about the sea god recorded in this book. After the Viscount Oswell family arrived, this territory returned to normal. The sea god seemingly didn't exist at all.”
Though she said this, the doubt in Lovene's heart only deepened.
Neither the territory annals nor this missionary's diary touched upon any real information regarding the sea god. At most, they only mentioned that after the Viscount Oswell family arrived, the white mist enveloping the territory gradually dispersed.
What about the sea god? Its sacrifice was interrupted—would it not feel enraged?
Or did it truly not exist in the first place?
But if it really didn't exist...
“Then what is the mist outside the window?”
Lovene murmured to herself. Her voice was quiet, but it rippled with a sense of unease.
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