Under the dark veil of night, the vast sea spread endlessly. Three pilgrim passenger vessels, having just emerged from the dense fog, continued to gently sail across the calm, mist-free sea. The Church fleet that should have escorted them was nowhere in sight, leaving these three ships utterly vulnerable—easy prey for anyone with malicious intent.
On the deck of one passenger ship, several sailors lay motionless, soaked in seawater along with the deck itself. Though unconscious, their gently rising chests indicated they were still alive. Behind them, a few crew members knelt trembling on the ground, hands raised in fearful surrender.
Standing amid the fallen sailors was a man, around thirty years old, shirtless, wearing only leather trousers, his bare feet planted firmly on the deck. His black hair was disheveled, his chin rough with stubble. He watched the scene before him coldly, silent and unflinching.
Suddenly, the water beside the ship churned as another figure leapt from beneath the waves, landing gracefully on the deck like a fish. This figure was a young man similarly dressed only in trousers. Upon landing, he steadied himself and immediately addressed his companion.
“Bahoda, the other two ships are now under our control. All the Radiance pilgrims are secured.”
Speaking in a language unfamiliar to the nearby crew, the young man reported to the older, disheveled-haired man, Bahoda, who nodded calmly in response.
“Good job, Sukai. Did you face any significant resistance? Any injuries on our side? What about casualties among the enemy?”
“The resistance was minimal; there weren't any powerful warriors aboard their vessels. We took them down without much effort. None of our warriors were harmed, but they suffered quite a few injuries—utterly defenseless.”
Sukai replied, a hint of pride in his voice. Satisfied with the report, Bahoda nodded slightly before continuing.
“Very good. Now, have the crew change the ships’ course and return immediately. We must leave this area quickly before Radiance realizes what's happened.”
“Understood. I'll inform the others now.”
Sukai approached the deck railing, preparing to jump back into the sea when Bahoda called after him.
“Wait. For those among them severely injured, treat their wounds to prevent them from dying unnecessarily.”
“Treat their wounds? Bahoda, these are Radiance people—they’re our enemies. We've already been generous by not immediately harming them upon boarding. And now we need to heal them too?”
Sukai spread his arms incredulously. Bahoda responded firmly, “They are indeed enemies, but right now they're more useful alive than dead. It's best to avoid fatalities for now—each living captive adds another chip to our bargaining table.”
After hearing Bahoda’s reasoning, Sukai paused briefly, deciding not to argue further. With a simple acknowledgment, he turned and plunged back into the sea.
After Sukai left, Bahoda turned his gaze toward the trembling crew members, addressing them in Ivengardian.
“Alright, everyone, return to your stations and fulfill your duties. We’re changing course.”
...
The boundless expanse of the ocean held endless allure, serving as a backdrop for countless adventures. Its vastness and mystery had always enticed explorers, yet many secrets remained undiscovered—even within the relatively familiar waters of the Conquest Sea.
Within the Conquest Sea lay a stretch of ocean off the main routes, notorious for its treacherous waters and constant fog. Deep within this region, often a nightmare for lost ships, was a secluded and rarely visited area.
Amidst the gentle night mist of this region emerged the vague outline of an island.
On this mysterious island stood an enormous tree, towering high into the sky. Beneath its branches flickered small flames that pushed back the surrounding darkness, illuminating a tall figure—a human-shaped wooden sculpture.
Rather than a carving, it appeared naturally grown, formed by the thick, intertwined roots of the massive tree rising from the ground. These roots shaped themselves into the figure of a woman with arms outstretched. Though formed from wood, the figure possessed vivid realism, her full-bodied posture expressing harmony and natural beauty.
Before this naturally formed sculpture burned a large, bright bonfire. Beside it sat an elderly man, about fifty years old, wearing a simple coarse robe tied with a hemp rope. Deep lines marked his face, and his white hair was dry and unkempt. He sat cross-legged, staring silently into the fire, his expression deeply troubled.
The elder sat at the edge of the bonfire, waiting in silence. Around him were several men and women similarly dressed in coarse robes. Most of them wore the same expression of worry, gazing at the flames as he did. Only one among them—a thin, twenty-something man sitting beside the elder—looked different. His eyes were fixed not on the fire, but on the elder himself.
“Lord Anman, please don’t worry too much. Bahoda is sharp, capable, and extraordinarily gifted. He’s our finest warrior—he’ll surely handle things properly.”
The gaunt man tried to console the elder, and after a moment of silence, the elder turned toward him with a soft sigh.
“I know Bahoda’s strength well, Obiye… If it were any other task, I’d have no concerns. But this time is different—he’s acting directly against Radiance, facing those zealots head-on. Radiance is far too powerful for us to oppose directly... This mission is incredibly dangerous. How could I not be worried?”
“But truly, Lord Anman, Radiance might be powerful, but their influence doesn’t reach every corner. According to my intel, that fleet of theirs is mostly for show—not a single fighter aboard can rival Bahoda. He’ll be more than enough to deal with them.”
Obiye offered confidently. Yet despite his words, the worry in Anman’s eyes did not fade.
“Information is still just information. No one can say with certainty what the actual situation is. If our intelligence is wrong, the consequences could be disastrous. Were it not for the unprecedented crisis we’re facing, I would never have agreed to something this extreme.”
Anman’s voice was heavy. Obiye continued in a steadier tone.
“Don’t worry. The sea is Bahoda’s domain. Even if the information is wrong and he can’t defeat Radiance’s people, retreating won't be an issue.”
Reassuring words again, but they only made Anman sigh once more.
“Sigh… Who would’ve thought things would come to this? None of us ever imagined we’d one day resort to such drastic measures.”
“There was no other way... If we want to protect Summer Tree Island from those Radiance zealots—to preserve our traditions and our goddess’ faith—then this is the only path left. We have to force Radiance to take us seriously, make them genuinely sit down and listen. Otherwise, they’ll always maintain that arrogant, unchallengeable attitude.”
Obiye’s words struck hard. Just as Anman opened his mouth to reply, a commotion echoed from the distance. A young man in a simple hemp tunic came sprinting toward them, breathless. After gasping for air, he quickly addressed the group.
“Huff… huff… Honored Priest! News from Bahoda! Their mission was a success! They’ve taken full control of the Radiance pilgrims and are already on their way back!”
“What? They really succeeded?!”
Anman stood up abruptly, stunned. Around him, the others burst into excited murmurs, their earlier worries quickly vanishing.
“This is wonderful, Lord Anman! Bahoda and the others did it! We finally have something we can use to negotiate with the Radiance Church!”
Obiye said joyfully beside him. Anman stood silent for a moment, then immediately turned to the young messenger.
“Inform Fesa on the mainland. Tell him to deliver the prepared letter—send it to the Radiance Church and clearly state our intent. Make our demands known!”
“Yes, understood!”
The young man turned and ran off at once. Watching him disappear into the darkness, Anman exhaled deeply and turned toward the towering tree behind him—toward the naturally grown feminine “wooden statue” beneath its boughs. Looking up at the gentle, uncarved face of the figure, he murmured.
“To think… that in the end, it would come to this…”
“Mother of Abundance, please forgive our sins. Please watch over the Summer Tree…”
And there, before the goddess-shaped tree, Anman offered his prayer with solemn reverence.
…
Northern Shore of Conquest Sea — Capital city of Ivengard, Pelan.
Night had fallen over Pelan, and the city slumbered in peace. Within the Cathedral District, faint lights glowed steadily inside the Purification Cathedral.
Inside the grand cathedral, Archbishop Antonio stood in front of a towering stained-glass window, hands clasped behind his back, clad in a simple silk robe. His hair was graying at the temples, and his frame slightly stout. His expression was solemn. Standing before him was a young priest, respectfully delivering a report.
“You said… this year’s pilgrimage fleet toward the Laichel Valley was attacked? And all the pilgrims are now missing?”
Antonio’s voice carried a trace of disbelief. The priest nodded and continued with his report.
“Yes. According to a signal transmission from the Sacrament Knights’ Third Escort Fleet, they were harassed by heavy fog during their mission. They were attacked by multiple Beyonders—some suspected to be Ocean Chanters. While the fleet's ships and crew sustained no major damage, the three passenger vessels carrying 851 pilgrims were lost in the fog generated by mystical forces. All contact was severed.”
The priest’s voice remained steady, but as he spoke, Antonio fell into a moment of heavy silence. A faint glint passed through his small eyes. After repressing some inner turmoil, he finally spoke in a calm tone.
“The Third Escort Fleet... Just the day before, someone swore to my face how important it was to detain four senior deacons for the sake of heresy investigations—and insisted that was just a ‘minor issue.’ Hmph... I wonder if this current situation still counts as a ‘minor issue’ to them?”
“From top to bottom, from Crimson rank to Black Earth rank, our Tribunal is filled with nothing but useless fools.”
Antonio sneered as he spoke, his tone dripping with contempt for the vertically-structured Tribunal. The priest before him was visibly startled.
“Um... Your Grace, perhaps you should be more careful with your words. If the wrong person hears you say such things—”
“And so what if they do?” Antonio snapped.
“Those lunatics from the Tribunal have already thrown everything into chaos with their indiscriminate arrests. Outsiders call them madmen and neurotics—and I think even calling them madmen gives them too much credit.”
His blunt disdain left the priest sweating awkwardly. Antonio, having vented his frustration, brought the topic back to the incident at hand.
“A pilgrimage fleet was attacked… Something like this hasn’t happened in years. And this time, it’s not just one ship—three vessels gone, over 800 missing. The severity of this incident is massive. Who would dare such a bold move? Don’t tell me it’s those serpent cultists again…”
He muttered darkly. From the description, his first suspicion was the Abyssal Church. As Ivengard’s archbishop, Antonio had frequent dealings with them.
Just then, the cathedral doors burst open. Another priest rushed in, clearly flustered.
“Your Grace Antonio! There’s an urgent matter!”
“What now?” Antonio frowned.
The priest hurried to reply.
“A telegram just arrived in the communications office… claiming to be from Summer Tree Island!”
“Summer Tree Island?”
Antonio’s expression stiffened slightly. Something in the name clearly triggered a memory. His gaze grew more severe.
“What does the telegram say?”
“It says… the warriors of Summer Tree Island have ‘invited’ the Radiance pilgrims to visit their island. If we want them to leave safely, we must immediately cancel the planned military operation targeting the Summer Tree Archipelago, and publicly promise never to proselytize there again—never to force the island’s people to abandon their beliefs.”
“They declare that the people of the Summer Tree Archipelago will continue to uphold the traditions they’ve followed for a thousand years. They will forever worship the Mother of Abundance, the Goddess of Nourishment and Harvest. They will not accept any other faith.”
The priest recited the message aloud. Antonio fell silent again. Only after a long pause did he murmur slowly, “Summer Tree Archipelago… So it’s them. I never expected this… Have they truly been pushed this far?”