Mei's whisper was only audible to herself. At this moment, the two gazes had returned to her.
"Faced with an unclimbable cliff decided by others, would you choose to climb it without looking back?"
Mei took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled. She raised her eyes, looked at the terrified child and the cold-faced mother, and an answer had already formed in her heart.
Or rather... she had long had her own answer to this question.
The Herrscher was right about one thing: among everyone present, she was the most suitable person to judge this question.
It's just that they thought... she would forget...
A faint golden glow began to flicker in Mei's hand, gently covering the surface of her body.
She could not forget...
[Picking up the wooden sword, Mei lowered her head, feeling the familiar touch in her hand.
Growing up, she had gone through many wooden swords. Each one was carefully custom-made for her, the size, the length, even the hilt was tailored to her liking.
After leaving Ryoma's office, picking up the sword again, Mei actually felt a rare sense of comfort.
"Yo~ my little princess, you don't look too happy!" a strangely suppressed voice came from the door. Mei, who was about to begin her daily basic training, finally showed a trace of joy in her eyes.
"Homu Sword Saint!" Mei turned and, seeing the life-sized Homu carrying a sword, exclaimed excitedly.
"Hoho, did someone make you unhappy? Do you need the Homu Sword Saint to teach him a lesson?" The Homu Sword Saint put down the wooden sword he was carrying on his shoulder, resting it on the ground.
Mei stood up, about to rush over and hug the Homu Sword Saint, but her steps came to an abrupt halt. She was flustered for a moment, then slowly returned to her previous state.
"No, thank you, Homu Sword Saint..." Mei lowered her head and said softly, "This time it was my own problem... I'm sorry..."
She didn't know why she was apologizing, but she said it subconsciously.
"Is that so?" The Homu Sword Saint was somewhat relieved that this costume didn't have the ability to broadcast emotions in real-time. He lifted his foot and, somewhat clumsily, walked closer to Mei, kneeling down beside her.
"Hoho, can you tell me what the problem is?" The Homu Sword Saint spoke with a deliberately affected verbal tic, then asked Mei considerately.
"I..." Mei lowered her head, not daring to speak.
The Homu Sword Saint made a bending motion, as if trying to see Mei's expression from below. But due to the costume, the Homu Sword Saint twisted and turned but couldn't bend down.
Well... at least he tried.
The Homu Sword Saint straightened up, twisting his waist. Mei could even hear a faint cracking sound of bones.
Mei tentatively raised her head slightly, only to see a huge Homu face almost pressed against her own. Mei's eyes even showed a somewhat exaggerated perspective effect.
"Uh..." Mei shrank back slightly. The Homu Sword Saint tilted his head, then seriously pulled his head back, looking a bit stern.
"Hmm..." With a long drawn-out sound, the Homu Sword Saint nodded at Mei.
"You've been wronged, haven't you?" the Homu Sword Saint said meaningfully.
Mei looked up sharply. She didn't quite understand why the Homu Sword Saint would say that.
"But I really..." Mei said softly, but a strange emotion quietly rose in her heart.
It was anticipation...
"People always make mistakes!" The Homu Sword Saint put down his sword and patted Mei's shoulder with his hand.
"Does... the Homu Sword Saint... also make mistakes?" A light flashed in Mei's eyes, and she asked cautiously.
The Homu Sword Saint's movement froze abruptly. He turned his head and saw Mei's sparkling eyes.
"Ahem..."
The Homu Sword Saint coughed awkwardly, not knowing whether to make up a lie or just brush it off.
This kind of thing... just say whatever, right? A child wouldn't care...
But looking at Mei's face, the fluctuation in the Homu Sword Saint's heart slowly calmed down.
"Yes... I've made quite a few mistakes..." The Homu Sword Saint withdrew his hand and said softly, "For example, the first time I was a father..."
Mei was slightly taken aback. Did... the Homu Sword Saint... also have his own child?
"Everyone says that a father should be strict, should be a pillar supporting the family, supporting the child's sky. So I played such a role in life...
"But I overlooked one thing. I was so focused on doing a good job that I only focused on my own part, completely forgetting that in my child's life, another important role was missing... her mother."
It seemed to be an illusion, but Mei felt that the Homu Sword Saint's hand and hers clenched at the same time.
"Life is colorful. It shouldn't have only one monotonous color. Since someone has taken on the role of being strict, there should be a gentle embrace left for her. These roles always appear in opposition: school and family, father and mother, society and those around you..."
The Homu Sword Saint suddenly laughed, a dry and hoarse laugh. He seemed to want to say more, but looking at the ignorant Mei, he laughed with relief, then patted Mei's... head.
"Mei, tell me... how does a ship realize its value?"]
"You ask me... whether I would choose a harbor or a storm." Mei tightened her grip on the sword in her hand and looked ahead
Under the faint golden light shining on her, two blurry figures slowly emerged from the mist.
One was weathered, as if it had given up on the world and was left with only itself. The other was delicate, as if it had given up on itself and devoted itself to the entire world.
"Storms will destroy ships that leave the harbor. No matter how large a ship is, there is a storm that can capsize it. Even if it sails to the sea of stars, the turmoil of the galaxy will strike it down."
"But when a ship stays in the harbor, its meaning as a ship is already dead in name. It begins to be packaged as something else, decaying in glory, until it lives out an unremarkable life, ultimately not being a [ship] at all."
The scruffy figure moved. He, who had always been provocative, now looked somewhat surprised.
"You mean... a ship should leave the harbor?"
He didn't think Mei would choose his ideology...
"No. I will not agree with your ideas, nor his. Life has never been a multiple-choice question. I will give my own answer!"
Mei raised her sword and pointed it at the two stunned figures.
"I will decide for myself... why a ship exists."
---||---
This was a cramped and narrow little room, without even a single window. Only a faint creaking and swaying sound could be heard from above.
Sirin coughed, reaching out a hand to steady herself against the wall in the darkness, struggling to climb to her feet.
"Finally... I'm in..." Sirin opened her eyes. Although it was the same whether her eyes were open or closed in this darkness, she still opened them, trying hard to see the outline of an object in the dark.
Unfortunately, she couldn't see anything.
But Sirin knew that Frélle must be in here. Because this was Frélle's dreamscape. No matter what, Frélle wouldn't be absent.
The Frélle in reality was no longer someone they could suppress. Even with Kai's assistance, the three of them could only ensure their own safety in front of Frélle. It was difficult to even harm her, let alone control her.
So in the end, the three of them chose a risky method: at the last second of the countdown, she would forcibly activate her ability and enter Frélle's dream world.
The problem with this was obvious: Sirin's ability might very well fail, especially now that Frélle had become a Pseudo-Herrscher.
And both time and Sirin herself only had this one chance. If she failed...
...that would be her own problem, wouldn't it.
Sirin stood up helplessly in the darkness, feeling her way along the wall, wanting to explore this space first. The so-called time in consciousness didn't really have much to do with the outside world. Sirin didn't have to worry about wasting time.
She had a hunch that this space wasn't large. It wouldn't take her long to find Frélle.
A dream evolves with the mind. As long as she found the core that constituted this dream, Sirin could make her ability take effect.
But it was so dark... what was the core here? It couldn't be something like a light bulb, could it?
Sirin cautiously felt her way along the wall. The moment her hand touched the corner, the solid ground beneath her feet suddenly became somewhat soft.
"Ah!"
"Ngh—"
Two cries sounded at the same time, but Sirin's was a scream, while the other was more like a muffled grunt that couldn't be suppressed.
Sirin's heart jumped. She subconsciously retreated, wanting to move her foot off the soft object, but her heel caught on a thick object lying on the ground, causing her to lose her balance.
"Ah!" With Sirin's second scream, her bottom landed heavily on the ground.
"Ouch..." Sirin rubbed her bottom, sucking in a sharp breath to try and ease the pain.
"Why is the pain in a dream so real..." After rubbing it twice, Sirin suddenly felt something was wrong. It was normal to fall in a dream, but for it to hurt this much after falling was a bit unusual...
After all, no one likes pain in their heart, so pain in a dream is usually weakened...
Sirin felt a sense of trouble. She looked up at the darkness in front of her, where she had just stepped on something.
"Um... hello?" It must be a person, most likely Frélle herself.
No answer came from the darkness, as if the sound Sirin had just heard was just her imagination.
Sirin tried calling out a couple more times but didn't even hear an echo. Coupled with the pitch-black darkness where she couldn't see her hand in front of her face, Sirin couldn't help but feel a little scared.
Having been tripped before, Sirin didn't even dare to stand up now. She had just fallen out of reach of the wall. Now, the only feedback Sirin could feel was the ground.
Oh, and the thing that had tripped her.
Sirin's gaze slowly moved downward. Although she knew it was useless, she still tried to look with her eyes. As expected, she saw nothing.
Sirin swallowed lightly, then, steeling herself, reached out a trembling but resolute hand toward the thing that had tripped her.
Don't be soft, don't be sticky, and definitely don't be slimy!
With a certain determination, Sirin's hand slowly touched the thing that had tripped her.
It was an emotionless temperature, an unforgiving hardness.
"A chain?" After the absence of those strange, unpleasant elements, Sirin's courage suddenly grew. After fumbling around a bit more, she immediately realized what the object in her hand was.
A chain thicker than her forearm... no, thicker than her calf.
Nothing can appear out of thin air in a dream. Everything has its association... This chain must be tied to something...
Should she follow the chain? Maybe she could reach the end of the chain and figure out what it's tied to.
But what could such a thick chain be tied to? It felt like it would be something very terrifying and scary...
Sirin struggled between bravery and cowardice for a moment, then took a deep breath and began to feel her way forward along the chain on the ground.
She didn't know if the chain was long or short, but during the process of fumbling, Sirin had been feeling quite tormented. Especially since not long ago, she had been desperately suppressing the thoughts in her mind. At this moment, those thoughts were popping out like they were free.
She was probably suffering from a backlash...
Sirin shivered. Finally, the chain that had been lying on the ground began to lift upward, which meant the end of the chain was near.
Swallowing, she gave herself one last bit of encouragement. Sirin reached her hand over the chain and toward the thing imprisoned by it.
A... hand?
Could it be that a hand was imprisoned by the chain? No, a person?
Not necessarily... could it be a monster that was only made of hands?
But her expectations had already improved a lot. Sirin boldly continued to feel her way up. Forearm, elbow, then shoulder, collarbone, and finally, Sirin's hands touched a slender neck.
"Ngh... it's a person." After carefully feeling it, Sirin finally breathed a sigh of relief, then her hand continued to move up.
Soft, wet, and squirming...
Sirin's eyes, which had been almost closed, suddenly widened again.
"Ah!!" This was the third scream that erupted. Sirin scrambled backward and, as expected, tripped over the chain again. But this time, after falling, Sirin quickly rolled backward and then curled up into a ball, on guard.
Not fear, but vigilance... like a defensive crouch.
"You... say something! Are you a person or a ghost?! Why is your tongue sticking out?!"