Chapter Thirty-Nine: A Weighty Conversation

Popular science education on the train was, after all, only a temporary measure. Many subjects required a more specialized setting for deeper understanding, so the man named Owen could only provide a brief overview; once they reached the royal capital, a more systematic education awaited Mulan.

Aside from acquiring some basic knowledge, Mulan also gained a preliminary grasp of the current state of the mysterious world—at least as Owen described it. It seemed that all sorts of arcane forces were on the rise across the globe, and the influence of the inner world had grown significantly. The impact was especially pronounced during times of war or other large-scale, intense negative events. In the last war, the main battlefield between the Dirga Empire and the Bassman United Kingdom in the northern and southern continents produced a particularly dire and terrifying effect, which became one of the main reasons the conflict ended.

Yet, this surge was not sudden. For a considerable period, those who wielded mysterious powers remained a rare few. Even in important cities like Valentine, there had been no official institutions established for such matters—not even the Holy Temple. After about three hours of travel, Owen rose and departed. He had his own private compartment; yes, this carriage was reserved for Mulan, Dolly, and the others, while Owen had a single room to himself. The reason was simple: his presence made everyone tense, and there were only four berths in this compartment.

After answering some of Mulan’s questions and making it clear he couldn’t delve further into certain topics, Owen left for his own carriage, which, rumor had it, was some distance away from theirs.

Train journeys were nothing new to Mulan, but a trip lasting a full day and night was a bit much. Watching the scenery pass by, he soon felt drowsy. Glancing at Dolly and the two youngsters across from him, still keenly engrossed in the view outside, he greeted them, took off his coat, and lay down.

When Mulan awoke, the sky outside was already dark. The carriage was lit, but the lights were gentle, not harsh. Squinting, he surveyed his surroundings: on the upper berth opposite, the young boy and girl lay together, perhaps because one didn’t dare climb up from their side, while Dolly remained enraptured by the window.

"Dolly, is the view outside really that fascinating?"

Dolly glanced at Mulan but said nothing, turning back to the window; she had reacted the same way earlier when Mulan tried to strike up a conversation.

Just as Mulan was resigning himself to the silence, Dolly spoke.

"The train is such a marvelous invention—it runs so fast and so long without tiring. Just sitting here, looking out the window, you can see so much of the land. I never imagined I could see so far before."

"Sounds like you haven’t traveled by train often."

Mulan sat up and stretched, rummaging in the suitcase at his feet.

"This is my first time. I’ve always lived close to the sea, so at most, I traveled by boat."

Mulan had already lifted his head, pulling out an oilpaper package from the suitcase and opening it. A faint, buttery aroma wafted out.

"Have some—my family made these. I’ve attended the Count’s banquets, but nothing they served compares to these biscuits."

With that, Mulan took the initiative, biting into a biscuit with a crunch. Dolly watched him devour several pieces, hesitated, then reached for one herself.

Crunch.

The little biscuit melted crisply in the mouth: sweet, fragrant, and not sticky.

"It’s delicious."

"Don’t be shy—eat as much as you like. There’s enough here for the four of us to make a meal."

Dolly took him at his word and ate several more, chewing as she gazed outside. Suddenly, she asked,

"I heard about that incident at the Count’s manor. It was truly dangerous, and I’m sure you understand just how much. But why did you go so far? People like them—even if they die, others will soon take their place."

Mulan paused, biscuit halfway to his lips.

"I can’t really say. Maybe it’s how I was raised—to not stand by and do nothing. Maybe I judged the situation as not beyond control. Or perhaps I wanted to prove myself? Who knows. If I had to choose again, maybe I’d just run away."

He put the biscuit in his mouth, only to find Dolly staring at him.

"Perhaps you’d choose the same again. Owen says you’re someone who truly acts with courage, and the fact you’re still sitting here is proof."

"Hmm?"

Mulan frowned, sensing an undertone to Dolly’s words.

"Your priest friend—his condition isn’t as good as yours. When the Holy Temple sent someone, they protected him immediately. In the inner world, facing ancient monsters at such close range—without extraordinary willpower, it’s a tremendous strain on mind and body, sometimes leading to madness or transformation..."

"Is Elvin all right?"

"He has the Holy Power, and the Temple will do everything to heal him. He should be fine. But you—nothing at all happened to you."

Mulan chewed silently, not thinking about his own resilience, but wondering if it was connected to his unusual origins.

"As Owen said, the assault of mysterious forces is intensifying. Ultimately, it comes down to greed. At the Dirga-Bassman border battlefield, a new vortex appeared. Though not as vast, it was essentially the same as the one at sea. It seems both sides used holy relics during the war—hundreds of thousands of soldiers’ souls, giving rise to such catastrophe..."

Mulan’s heart lurched. Owen had only mentioned a terrible incident, but he hadn’t expected a new vortex to have formed. When the realization struck, shock turned to anger, and his fists clenched.

As a veteran, Mulan had served on the equally brutal western front, and he was no less outraged. He didn’t worry Dolly would lie—there was no need, and the truth would likely not be hard to uncover later.

Sadly, rage was all he could muster.

"The great vortex at sea—could it also have been caused by some accidental sacrifice?"

Mulan asked in a low voice. It was clear that the new vortex was the result of such an event, and Owen had said that those cultists and villains, when using relics, most often resorted to sacrifices.

"Who can say? That great vortex has been there for ages... Have you ever seen a sea siren?"

"I’ve heard their songs, but as for seeing one—I don’t know if the creature I shot years ago counted as a siren."

Dolly laughed, swallowing her biscuit.

"That doesn’t really count. The song of the siren is hauntingly beautiful, and they are strikingly lovely—but they are vicious creatures. They cause shipwrecks, and sometimes come ashore to hunt. Despite their terrifying nature, some humans worship them, even going so far as to offer sacrifices to increase their numbers..."

"And many others perform similar rituals for various reasons. Sometimes, even without holy relics, these actions have consequences."

Mulan naturally thought of some wild, murderous madman.

"Even under the Holy Temple’s suppression, there’s no sign of this threat abating. Let’s hope the great nations finally wake up after all this."

"Humans are so complex. Some are beyond redemption, others are pure and kind, capable of creating such vibrant and splendid civilization."

Dolly popped another biscuit in her mouth, only to notice Mulan staring at her.

"W-what is it?"

"Dolly, how old are you? You talk like some sage who has seen the world."

Dolly quickly covered her mouth, glanced at the biscuits, then retorted in sudden embarrassment and annoyance,

"It’s Dolly—with a ‘y’. Please remember that, Mr. Jonester!"

"All right, Dolly. I’ll do my best."

Laughter drifted down from the upper berth, and Mulan smiled and called out,

"Come, have some—none of you have eaten since we boarded, and these biscuits are delicious."

This time, the two young passengers didn’t hesitate, climbing down and grabbing biscuits, unable to stop once they started.

Mulan himself stopped eating, leaning against the wall and gazing out into the night. Though the world wasn’t ablaze with lights as it would be in the twentieth century, if there were villages or towns nearby, their glow was still visible in the darkness.

The conversation had grown somber, but, as always, when the sky falls, there will be someone tall to bear its weight.