Hastur thought for a moment, finding this plan more suitable.
That night, he would go to the Bravehearts Bar to inform Maric and Sharon.
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June 24th, Sunday.
At sharp eight-thirty in the evening, Hastur had the chef prepare his specialty dishes while sending someone to buy some drinks and aged wine.
According to Maric, Sharon liked beverages with a sour-sweet taste, while he himself preferred wine, the blood-like color made him feel as if his complexion grew rosier as he drank.
Hastur thought about it but didn't burst his bubble. It was obviously just the alcohol talking.
Around nine o'clock, there was a knock at the door. Hastur personally went to greet the guests. Inside the hall, aside from him, no one else was present.
He had dismissed the servants and maids ahead of time, letting them rest. Even Butler Neil did not appear.
"Hastur, your house is really nice, much bigger than the one we're staying in."
Maric naturally stepped inside, while Sharon lifted the hem of her black silk dress, gave a slight curtsey, and then entered through the door.
Sometimes Hastur really thought that, if it weren't for the meddling of the Mother Tree of Desire, Sharon would have been a refined and elegant princess.
Her every word and gesture carried grace and composure, as if nothing in the world could stir her heart.
She looked a few years younger than Maric, yet she was calm and steady in her actions, the one who made the decisions.
Of course, it could also just be that Maric wasn't particularly intelligent.
The three sat down. Maric naturally poured himself some wine, swirled his glass, admired the color of the liquid, then sniffed it before taking a small sip.
"Mm, this is a step above the wines they serve at the bar. Not bad." Maric downed the rest with satisfaction.
"It's a pity time was too short. Otherwise, I could've prepared something better," Hastur said with regret.
Noble families typically had underground cellars for storing wine. The Campbell family used to, but theirs had been depleted.
Since Hastur wasn't fond of drinking, he hadn't collected fine wines. He only had the common sort for entertaining ordinary guests.
Those wines were mediocre, which was why he had sent someone to buy better ones.
"No matter, I can wait for your next banquet."
"I certainly won't disappoint you."
"By the way, isn't it boring living all alone in such a big house?"
"If you and Miss Sharon would like to move in, I'd be more than happy to welcome you."
"Forget it, we'd just cause you trouble. Settling down isn't suitable for us right now."
"There will come a day when you can live in peace."
Hastur and Maric ate, drank, and chatted. Sharon simply sat quietly, sipping her specially prepared drink, rarely speaking.
Halfway through the drinking, Hastur suggested moving up to the study to talk.
After all, the hall wasn't the best place for private matters.
Neither Sharon nor Maric refused.
In the study, the bronze mirror was still there. Sharon chose to sit directly opposite it, occasionally glancing at her reflection.
Hastur sat at the desk, with Maric opposite him, face to face.
"You both know I'm good friends with Greg from the Negan family. I've learned quite a lot from him."
Seeing Hastur's serious demeanor, Maric also grew solemn, and Sharon turned her gaze toward him as well.
"During this time, it would be best if you didn't go to the Bravehearts Bar anymore. Try to find a safe place to hide."
"What exactly do you know?"
"Your enemies, the Hedonists of the Rose School of Thought, may be sending higher-sequence powerhouses to Backlund."
This was Hastur's deduction, based on information exchanged between the Mother Tree of Desire and the Son of Chaos.
By now, Bernadette should already be in Backlund. She had been targeted by the Rose School of Thought, and it was very likely that that Divine Offspring had also arrived near Backlund.
He probably wouldn't enter the city, but He would definitely linger nearby, waiting for a chance to seize Bernadette and steal the Magic Wishing Lamp.
The trade between the Mother Tree of Desire and the Son of Chaos involved the Judgment card and the Black Emperor card. As Roselle's daughter, even if Bernadette didn't possess one of the Tarot cards, she might know their whereabouts.
So the Rose School of Thought's move against Bernadette was inevitable.
Maric frowned in thought for a moment, then said, "If the ones coming are only Sequence 4, in Backlund it would be hard for them to catch Sharon and me."
Hastur glanced at Sharon. "But what if it's someone above Sequence 4?"
Maric shook his head. "Impossible. Mahmosi and Zatwen are key leaders of the resistance; they can't leave the Southern Continent."
After a moment's thought, Sharon softly added, "There's also Shanks, the Sequence 3 Disciple of Silence. But Maric and I aren't worth a Sequence 3 chasing all the way to Backlund."
Hastur considered it. "Roselle once said, 'When the city gates catch fire, even the fish in the moat suffer.' Perhaps you two are just unlucky bystanders."
He didn't directly say that Sequence 1 Abomination Suah might be lurking around Backlund.
Even if only to drive Bernadette out of Backlund, there could still be Sequence 3 or Sequence 2 Angels lending a hand.
This was tied to the descent of the Mother Tree of Desire onto Earth, an oracle from their Supreme God!
The Rose School of Thought might very well mobilize everything.
"Hastur, what kind of information have you actually gotten?" Maric stood up, face dark, voice a little agitated.
Even a Sequence 4 demigod in Backlund would force him and Sharon to keep far away. If it were someone stronger, they'd hardly be able to escape.
"I don't know the exact details. Just be careful. Stay near St. Samuel's Cathedral for the time being."
Hastur still didn't reveal the full truth. After all, Sharon and Maric had ties with Bernadette, and likely a good relationship at that. He couldn't openly say the Rose School of Thought was targeting her.
Otherwise, Bernadette would certainly keep a close eye on him. Even revealing this much already carried significant risk.
"Thank you." Sharon looked at Hastur and gave a sincere thanks, her eyes uncharacteristically soft.
Maric sat back down, speaking heavily: "Sharon, should we leave Backlund for a while and hide outside?"
"I think it's actually safer for you to stay in Backlund right now," Hastur vetoed the suggestion.
With Divine Offspring Suah lurking outside, one careless move and Sharon and Maric could easily be wiped out.
By now, even Maric understood that Hastur knew more than he could say.
Sharon nodded. "We'll be careful."
…
After leaving Hastur's residence, Sharon had Maric return home first. She was going to meet a friend.
Near the Backlund Bridge, the Tussock River flowed and meandered, the banks lush with water plants, rarely visited by people.
Under the crimson moonlight, Sharon drifted over like a phantom.
Her black Gothic gown made her look even more mysterious in the night.
She waited quietly for a while, then suddenly raised her head to the sky.
In a world invisible to the naked eye, green pea vines hung down from above, weaving into a dense forest.
The natural scene clashed with the surrounding tall buildings and chimneys, like a beautiful fairy tale conjured from someone's imagination.
Even though it wasn't her first time seeing it, Sharon still felt a touch of envy.
What little girl hadn't once dreamed of being a princess in a castle, sketching out a fairy-tale kingdom in her childhood fantasies?
And now, before her, such a kingdom had opened its gates.
A pair of black leather boots descended along the pea vines, accompanied by a gentle voice.
"Little Sharon, did you come looking for me in such a hurry because of something urgent? Or is it that you simply missed me after so long?"
Sharon glanced at the black leather boots, their aura so mismatched with the fairy-tale kingdom around them that her beautiful fantasy shattered in an instant.
"The Rose School of Thought has pursued us to Backlund. I need a safer place."
"Come up. This place really isn't safe."
Sharon took two steps forward, grasped a pea vine, and as it twisted and lifted, the scenery shifted around her. Soon, she was high above the ground.
Beneath her was a platform woven from pea vines, ahead a small hut also constructed entirely from them. Some vines bloomed with little white or pink flowers, making the place look like an otherworldly paradise.
There, a figure stood at the hut's doorway, quietly watching her.
This was the Mystic Queen of the Seas.
In the Loen Kingdom alone, the bounty on her head was worth hundreds of thousands of gold pounds, enough to ensure a lifetime of wealth and comfort.
Yet neither the navies of nations nor brutal pirates had ever claimed it. Instead, her reputation had spread across the seas.
Sharon had met this mystic queen at a High-Level Beyonder gathering. After several encounters, they had gotten along well, growing closer.
"I just ran into people from the Rose School of Thought myself and was about to tell you. I didn't expect your information to be just as quick, Little Sharon."
Bernadette slowly approached, reaching out a hand as if to stroke Sharon's head.
Out of habit, Sharon stepped half a pace back, tilted her head, and avoided the slender hand. "Just call me Sharon."
"Little Sharon sounds so much nicer. It makes us seem so close."
Sharon couldn't be bothered to waste words correcting her again. Instead, she asked seriously,
"Who exactly has the Rose School of Thought sent this time?"
Bernadette's smile faded, her brows slightly furrowed. "Quite a few. The strongest should be the so-called King of Curses, Barranca."