Chapter 50: New Year, Loneliness, and a World of Unknown Colors, Unknown Whether It Is a Planet
January 1st, 838 in the Common Era, Monday, early morning.
The loud and distant sound of a bell spread from the church bell tower, and the fat crow perched on the back of the chair suddenly took flight, landing on the surface of the desk.
In the next second, it extended its right wing, placing it across its chest like an arm, and bowed toward Sylvia, who was sitting upright in her chair, with a very human-like posture:
"Happy New Year, my master."
Seeing this, Sylvia's lips curled slightly as she nodded and said:
"You too."
She didn’t know the specific customs of this world and had never taken the time to learn them. She could only respond based on her own feelings.
Afterward, she leaned back tiredly against the chair and closed her eyes for a moment.
She had been sitting in this office for seven days, constantly studying the aura discovered from that corpse of a Full Moon cultist and weaving the Sinner path.
During that time, Anwendeika had returned to the church and informed Sylvia that his captain was in communication with the commander, but it might take some time.
That was because the legendary adventurer known as the "Sword of Radiance," Andrika Solores, was currently not on the Old Continent—she had gone out to sea.
Sylvia wasn’t in a hurry about this.
After all, the first metamorphosis ritual of the Warrior path and the spiritual materials it required could be found beneath St. Ruls Cathedral. What she lacked were only the two subsequent rituals.
At that moment, someone knocked on the door.
"Come in."
Sylvia reopened her eyes, returned to her smiling expression, and enunciated the word clearly.
The door handle turned, and Loruze stepped in from outside.
"Your Grace, may you have a wonderful New Year."
Loruze bowed in greeting, and Sylvia nodded in response:
"Is it really fine for you not to be downstairs?"
At this moment, the clergy of St. Ruls Cathedral were gathered with a large number of believers in the main hall, praying, singing hymns, and preaching as they awaited the arrival of midnight.
"No problem."
Loruze shook his head with a smile:
"My work is already done."
"Hmm."
Sylvia gave a simple reply. Then, watching the back of this Radiant Bishop as he took his leave, her gaze gradually deepened.
After a minute, she stood from her seat and, under the somewhat dazed gaze of Lakdevo, left the room. She followed the long underground passage and arrived at the surface level.
At this moment, white ribbons had been elegantly tied around the pillars and the altar in the central nave, and evergreen trees symbolizing the eternity of the gods had been arranged throughout the spacious hall.
Watching the joyous expressions on the devout believers’ faces, and the backs of families who had left after praying the previous night, the corner of Sylvia’s lips, once slightly raised, gradually smoothed out.
In her homeland, New Year also had fixed celebratory customs.
Although the New Year in this world was somewhat similar to the Western New Year in her homeland, it differed from that of her own country. Even so, scenes like this would inevitably stir some thoughts within her.
At this moment, a hint of confusion flickered through her light purple eyes, and an immense sense of loneliness surged into her heart like a tidal wave.
In her line of sight, people dressed in various styles began chatting and laughing after walking out of the church doors. The children, whose nature had been suppressed by the solemn atmosphere inside the church, gradually became lively again.
Friends, families—they all had various bonds with one another, and with this world—
Except for her.
The warm scene was like a steel needle, deeply piercing the heart of this foreign visitor.
Sylvia slowly raised her right hand. As she watched the starlight flickering in her palm, the expression on her face began to fade.
The body she inhabited was merely an ordinary puppet. Without her control, every expression would become extremely stiff, distinctly different from a living person.
Just like now.
I wonder… would my family, my friends, be saddened and grieved by my disappearance?
She pondered this silently in her heart, her deep gaze seeming to span across an endless distance, falling upon the residential building in that small county town.
"Sigh."
In a place where no one could notice, the puppet Sylvia let out a soft sigh, and the expression on her face began to return.
"When it gets late at night, people tend to get sentimental… I guess I still count as a person?"
With a self-mocking thought, the gray-haired girl turned around and walked toward the direction of the underground passage.
At the same time, faces and voices flashed through her mind—
There was the obviously overweight and plump crow, Lakdevo; the courteous on the surface yet ambitious Loruze; the sunny and cheerful knight, Kakilis; and the rough yet emotional gang leader, Divoman.
However, their attitudes toward her were entirely built upon reverence.
They were qualified subordinates—but they absolutely did not count as friends.
Hmm… did she forget someone?
Just as the thought crossed her mind, a clear and sweet voice suddenly rang out behind her:
"Your Highness!"
Sylvia abruptly turned her head and saw Isabella waving at her from not far away, having somehow entered the church unnoticed.
At this moment, the girl she hadn’t seen for a week looked noticeably better. Though she still appeared as if she had just recovered from a serious illness, the difference from before was already quite significant.
"Miss, who are you greeting?"
Suddenly, the maid standing behind her—Maria—asked with some confusion. The girl, who had been slightly anxious just now as the figure was about to disappear around the corner, immediately reacted and playfully stuck out her tongue—
Though this gesture clearly did not conform to noble etiquette.
"That was a priest I’m fairly acquainted with."
After speaking, she casually pointed in a certain direction.
Seeing this, the maid Maria nodded, while Sylvia's face revealed a slightly more natural smile.
This once frail noble girl had changed a great deal since the first time Sylvia met her.
Much of the protective disguise had already been shed.
The gloomy and pessimistic temperament had almost entirely faded, replaced with the liveliness appropriate for her age.
Yes, not naive.
Watching her subtly and cleverly send her maid away through her words, expressions, and movements without raising any suspicion, Sylvia couldn’t help but twitch the corner of her lips.
Soon after, Isabella quickly walked toward her.
"Your body has recovered well."
As soon as they met, Sylvia offered a simple greeting.
"Yes."
"May the New Year bring you prosperity and joy, Your Highness."
The girl in the light blue dress lifted her skirt slightly and bowed with a showy posture.
"How was it, Your Highness?"
"This was me imitating my mother’s gesture."
A clear smile appeared on young Isabella's face.
"Not bad."
"Mm… Happy New Year."
Sylvia was momentarily stunned, then responded with a somewhat amused smile.
Immediately after, she voiced a question that had been on her mind:
"Why are you here?"
"According to what you said, shouldn’t you be at the New Year’s banquet at Serborn Manor right now?"