NOVEL ONLINE FREE Chapter 42: Chapter 42: Farewell
By the time Steven finished adjusting his mods and stepped out of the village, Rhodes Island's aircraft had been waiting at the village entrance for quite a while.
Gladiia, who had been entrusted to Irene earlier, rushed toward Steven the moment she saw him. Like a child seeking comfort, she hid behind him, clutching the hem of his clothes pitifully.
"Why didn't you show this level of dependence on me when you were chasing after that guy earlier?"
Steven muttered softly to himself, ruffling his makeshift daughter's hair. Yet he couldn't help but feel she was becoming a bit too attached to him. He needed to cure her soon—otherwise, he might grow accustomed to her reliance. If she recovered her memories one day and turned against him, the one left hurt would be himself.
Feelings were the sharpest knives, and Steven doubted even a [Resistance IV] status effect or Netherite Armours enchanted with [Protection V] could shield him from such wounds.
Compared to Gladiia's attachment, though, Kal'tsit, who had seemingly been waiting for a long time, appeared far less welcoming. Her expression was as cold as ever, as if the world owed her something. To put it bluntly, it was almost perpetually "resting bitch face."
Steven couldn't help but wonder if maintaining such a demeanor every day wouldn't eventually give her facial paralysis.
"Rhodes Island has lingered in Iberia for too long. Even with the Inquisition's approval, unforeseen complications could arise in these lands. It's time for us to leave," Kal'tsit stated.
Her words, as cryptic as ever, left Steven puzzled. If Kal'tsit prided herself on her intelligence, she probably wouldn't have guessed that Steven had labeled her internally as an inscrutable enigma.
"I don't recall asking you to wait for me," Steven shot back bluntly.
The best way to deal with cryptic individuals was with directness. Besides, he owed Kal'tsit nothing. If anything, her invitation to Rhodes Island felt more like her seeking him out. Thus, there was no need for him to tread lightly.
"…"
Kal'tsit's hidden fist tightened slightly under her coat but said nothing more. Turning, she strode up the aircraft ramp.
Behind her, an older woman in Rhodes Island uniform couldn't help but stifle a chuckle, clearly amused at seeing her superior take a rare loss.
"Young man, even if Kal'tsit's way of speaking is a bit roundabout, isn't that attitude of yours a tad impolite? It's not very gentlemanly, you know," the older woman remarked with a smile as she approached Steven.
"Besides, Rhodes Island staying here for too long could indeed attract unwanted attention from those with ill intentions. Kal'tsit's actions are only out of caution."
As if to smooth things over, the woman—adorned with a curious halo and crystalline wings—offered an introduction.
"Forgive my manners. I'm Outcast, an elite operator of Rhodes Island."
"Ah, nice to meet you. Just call me Steve," Steven replied amiably.
Compared to Kal'tsit's cryptic nature, Outcast's straightforward and friendly demeanor earned her much higher marks from Steven. As a naturally sociable person himself, he responded in kind.
Looking at her cowboy-inspired, clearly modified uniform and the revolver at her hip, Steven's curiosity about Rhodes Island grew.
No doubt, as the protagonist's organization, it was bound to be full of colorful characters.
"Well then, Mr. Steve, now that your business is wrapped up, shall we depart for Rhodes Island?" Outcast inquired with a smile.
Her initial impression of Steven had shifted. Though he came off as difficult initially, their brief exchange suggested he wasn't as unapproachable as Kal'tsit had made him seem. Clearly, compatibility between people could vary greatly.
"Give me a moment. I'd like to bid farewell to a friend," Steven said after a brief thought.
His gaze fell on Irene, the Liberi girl standing behind him with a conflicted expression. She seemed like she had something to say but couldn't quite bring herself to. Her expression grew increasingly awkward, and Steven couldn't ignore her.
"That expression of yours is unbecoming of an Iberian Inquisitor. Even I feel secondhand embarrassment," Steven teased, unable to resist poking fun at her.
Oddly enough, Irene's expression softened at his jab.
"Hmph. Whether I'm an Inquisitor depends on my actions, not my expression. Mark my words—the next time we meet, I'll make you acknowledge my authority," she declared, puffing up with pride.
Despite her defiance, Irene couldn't deny the pang of loss she felt knowing he was leaving. Their interactions were less like mentor and protégé and more like bickering friends. Still, the thought of him leaving left her feeling inexplicably empty.
"Also, next time, I won't give you the chance to lecture me like some elder. I'll show you what a true Inquisitor is, you eccentric man!" she added, shaking her small fist at him.
"Alright, I'll be waiting. Don't disappoint me, Inquisitor of Iberia," Steven replied with a smile, waving as he turned to follow Outcast onto the Rhodes Island aircraft.
As he had promised, he would return soon. He looked forward to reuniting with this proud little bird when the time came.
"Is that your friend? An Inquisitor of the Inquisition? Quite an odd choice, you know. In Iberia, Inquisitors are often described as cold, unfeeling machines," Outcast remarked as they walked.
"Maybe, but what does that have to do with me? My friend is a brave and resilient little bird of Iberia, and that's all that matters," Steven replied, grinning confidently.
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