"Why do you say that?"
Verdu pondered for a moment before answering, "Every time those pirates and explorers met their demise, the island was shrouded in thick fog." As he spoke, he tucked his pocket watch away and stood up. "That's why I believe the ruins we can't find under normal circumstances might just reveal themselves in this mist."
In his previous life, someone had analysed the strange fog on Bansy Island and speculated that it might be a projection from the City of Calamity. Others said it was the byproduct of a ritual conducted by Medici descendants to worship an evil god. Regardless of the origin, the fact that it was enough to make the Church of Storm raze Bansy to the ground meant it was extremely dangerous.
Edward dared to come to Bansy only because, according to the timeline in the original work, the island shouldn't have reached that catastrophic stage yet. But now, it seemed that the timeline might no longer be reliable.
Just then, Verdu headed toward the door. Edward asked in surprise, "You're going out now?"
"Of course. The last time the fog appeared was a month ago. If we miss this one, we'll have to wait another month at least." He glanced at Edward with a grin. "Besides, who says staying in the restaurant is safe? Haven't you noticed? There's no one left in here."
Edward quickly turned around and looked through the restaurant. The dim lighting gave the space a strange, unsettling atmosphere.
Creak—
Verdu pushed open the restaurant door. A stream of cold, white mist blew in with the wind.
"Let's go."
Edward quietly tested Apparition—he found it was still working—then cast a Bubble-Head Charm and followed. Who knew whether the fog itself might be harmful?
Outside, the wind was low, the darkness deep, and the mist so thick that they could barely see a few meters ahead. They hadn't walked far from the restaurant when the door behind them slammed shut with a loud bang, and the lights inside extinguished completely.
Edward immediately drew his revolver—the one he'd first confiscated from Danitz—and cautiously scanned his surroundings. Verdu, holding an astrolabe in one hand and a lantern in the other, led the way.
The two walked in single file through the mist for five or six minutes. All around them, there was nothing but silence. None of the zombies or monsters Edward had expected appeared.
"Have you heard of the bloody and brutal sacrificial rituals on Bansy Island?" Verdu suddenly asked.
"I've heard about them. I think the object of worship was a deity called the 'God of Weather'—or something like that?"
"Mm. It's a blood sacrifice. Most of the time, they used outsiders as offerings. Occasionally, even locals were used." He turned back, holding up the lantern. "I wonder if those pirates died in one of those rituals."
Edward asked, "If that's the case, does that mean the two of us could also be targets for the islanders' sacrifice?"
"Heh…what do you think?"
Verdu's expression suddenly twisted into something strange. His head began to swell rapidly and balloon grotesquely. Then it detached from his shoulders and flew into the air. His eyes and nose rotted and fell off in an instant, but his mouth—filled with stark white teeth—looked even more vicious.
"Dying here…is your honour!"
The decaying head opened its mouth wide and flew toward Edward. Just as he was about to react, a searing beam of light burst forth, dispelling the mist and instantly turning the head to ashes.
The real Verdu came running through the fog, lantern in hand. "Are you alright? You disappeared the moment I turned around!"
"I—I'm fine."
Edward suddenly remembered something and asked, "Are you the real Mr. Verdu?"
"I am! That thing that attacked you was a corpse being controlled by someone else."
"You're…also a Beyonder?"
He nodded. "Why else would I dare come out during the fog? It'd be suicide otherwise."
Verdu raised his lantern. "Up ahead seems to be the telegraph office of Bansy Harbour. Let's check it out."
But Edward suddenly came to a halt.
"Actually...shouldn't we head to the Church of Storms first?"
"Why?"
Edward was holding a green crystal that was spinning counterclockwise in his hand.
"My divination tells me the telegraph office is dangerous."
Verdu suddenly shouted, "No! We're going to the telegraph office!"
"Then you go on ahead. I'm heading to the church for help."
"No!"
Verdu's expression twisted into frustration and restlessness. His eyes began to dim.
Snap!
Edward clenched the crystal tightly.
"Sorry. What I actually just divined was—'Is the man in front of me truly Verdu?'"
"GO TO THE TELEGRAPH OFFICE!!"
Verdu's seven orifices suddenly bled as he lunged at Edward.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Verdu froze instantly. Petrification crept up his body with alarming speed.
"Diffindo!"
The second curse shot out—but hit nothing.
Verdu had vanished.
In the next moment, everything around Edward twisted and collapsed.
He found himself standing at the entrance to the Green Lemon Restaurant, holding the door handle open for the young woman and her daughter.
"Thank you."
The woman gave a slight nod. The little girl sweetly added, "Thank you, Mister!"
"…"
Edward froze.
Had everything just now been an illusion?
Or had time rewound?
Or…was it like what happened later with Little Sun and the others—some kind of loop?
"…It was an illusion."
At that moment, Verdu spoke with a grave expression. "The conversation we had in the restaurant just now, and walking into the fog together—I experienced all of that too. Then, as we walked in the mist for a few minutes, you suddenly turned into a living corpse and attacked me. Another version of you appeared and helped me, suggesting we go to the telegraph office."
Edward fell silent for a moment. "I had the same experience."
He turned to look at the dimly lit port. "But now I don't know if everything happening is also an illusion."
Verdu was briefly stunned. He took out a coin and flicked it into the air. The coin landed, rolled for a bit, then stood upright without falling.
"It's fogging up." He murmured.
With a gentle breeze, gray-white fog quickly filled the dark port, and everything around them once again became shrouded in a murky gloom.
"Mr. Verdu, did you mention earlier that everything happening on Bansy Island might be related to this fog?"
"I did. Why?"
Edward looked toward the two figures—a woman and a child—gradually becoming blurry within the mist. "If they're residents of this island, why are they still outside when the fog rolls in?"
"That mother and daughter?" Verdu's eyes widened. "Let's follow them!"
The two immediately gave chase, but after only a few hundred meters, they had completely lost sight of them.
Simultaneously, both men recoiled two steps, wariness flashing across their faces. In near-perfect sync, they produced divination crystals.
As Verdu saw his crystal begin rotating counterclockwise, he acted instantly—a translucent book appeared in front of him.
"Wait!" Edward shouted urgently. "Mr. Verdu, your divination has been interfered with!"
"Hm?"
Verdu froze slightly and saw Edward's green crystal spinning clockwise.
Edward quickly explained, "I have a sealed artifact that can ensure, to some extent, that my divination results are not tampered with."
Verdu didn't immediately believe him, but he did stop his spell.
"In the first illusion the mist gave us, the other person became a living corpse or a disguised one—something to alert us. But this time, what if it's trying to make us kill each other?"
"Think about those pirates!" Edward added quickly.
"But I can't verify whether what you're saying is true."
"That's simple. From now on, we move separately."
Verdu considered for a few seconds. "Alright. Where are you headed?"
"To the Church of Storm. You?"
"I want to find the source of the fog."
Edward frowned. "Are you sure? That's dangerous."
"There are some things I must do."
He pulled out his astrolabe again and backed into the mist, disappearing.
Edward first tried Apparition to reach the church directly—but it failed.
It wasn't that he couldn't Apparate. It was that he couldn't Apparate to the church. More accurately—he couldn't locate the destination.
He took a rod from his pouch and performed a dowsing spell: "The Church of the Storm."
The rod tilted to the left.
Edward picked it up and started walking. "I remember the mist Klein encountered in Bansy didn't make them lose their way. So...is this fog different from the one in the original story?"
Every dozen steps or so, he stopped to repeat the dowsing, all the while staying alert for threats hidden in the fog.
But nothing happened.
After ten minutes, some faint lights appeared ahead in the mist. Edward immediately slowed and approached with caution.
Soon, the storm sigil's emblem came into view—the chapel's stained glass windows glowing eerily.
"Is anyone there?"
He stopped about seven or eight meters from the church entrance and called out loudly.
After a long silence, an aged voice responded, "Yeees...Heeere..."
"Are you the bishop of the Church of Storms?"
"I...amm..."
"Then let me ask—what is your view of the Lord of Storms?"
Another long pause.
"Heee...haaas two eyes...one mouth...two nostrils...two eaaars."
"..."
Fantastic. If you really were a bishop, Leodero would have smited your ass off for that blasphemy!
But...didn't [Genius on the Right] guarantee that as long as there's a divination result, it won't be interfered with or misled? Could it be that the essence of the City of Calamity is just too high for even my cheat ability to work?
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Footsteps slowly approached. Verdu's figure emerged from the mist. Seeing Edward, he didn't look surprised.
"As I thought—they're trying to force us into the telegraph office."
With that, he headed straight toward it.
Edward quickly said, "Wait! It's a trap, Mr. Verdu!"
"I know. But the source of the fog is likely inside the telegraph office."
"You seek the origin, not the building itself—there's a difference."
Verdu paused, puzzled.
"What's the difference?"
Edward raised his wand and aimed it at the building in front of them.
"The difference is…Bombarda Maxima!"
BOOMM!
In a violent explosion, the church collapsed instantly into rubble.
———
[Note]: Don't forget to VOTE. It keeps me motivated.