Mamen and Samer?

If I remember correctly... if I remember correctly.

Isn't that the name of the Economic Lord and the Saint Lord?

But both of them have already gone to the paradise world, right? And... their ages don't match.

There are only two types of people in Acadia who are eligible to be named Lords.

One is the leader of a family who has served as a chief, and the other is the winner of the Bouquet ceremony fireworks competition, dedicated to the ceremony.

The latter often receives a posthumous title that corresponds to their fate, as a memorial.

Mamen blocked Samer's ear with the back of her hand and whispered a few words quietly. Samer shook her head helplessly and said to Merka, "Mamen said she wants to assist you in staying in Elysium, but I haven't believed you yet."

"Putting aside whether you are really Turing's boyfriend. Even if you are, I can't accept it with just your 1 meter 70-something height and delicate appearance."

Samer scratched her head, her tone filled with disdain.

Samer indeed had the right to say this. When she stood next to Merka on the ground, she was slightly taller than Merka, at least 1.75 meters. With her upright posture and uninhibited personality, Merka couldn't help but associate her with the image of Samer described by her elders in her childhood.

Samer was the overall champion of the previous fireworks festival, while Mamen was the champion of the previous year. Along with the star Lord of the previous three years, they brought the Altria family three consecutive chief positions.

Although Merka was just born when Mamen became the champion, she could still understand from the descriptions of her elders that she was a well-read and elegant lady.

And now, she matched the person in front of her.

The only thing that didn't match was, if those saintesses were really still in the human world, they wouldn't still have the appearance of little children.

It was such a terrifying coincidence, Merka couldn't help but think so.

"Hehe." Mamen smiled gently at Merka, her smile so beautiful that even if the author used the popular description of winter sunshine and spring snow, they would feel extremely ashamed.

"I'm sorry, Samer is a boor. Please don't mind her."

"Actually, we were just having a reading session earlier. Would you like to join us?"

"By the way, we can also talk to you in detail about our situation and Turing's situation," Mamen said.

"Ah, I see." There were indeed too many confusing points, and he needed someone to explain them to him urgently. "Then, rather than standing...” Merka saw that there was still a chair next to the desk and was about to walk over, but suddenly there was a hurried knocking on the door.

The voice of a maid outside interrupted Merka's movement.

"Lord Altria, Madam would like you to come to her room."

"Please come as soon as possible."

It seemed that the maid didn't want to say more, and immediately there was no sound outside the door.

Samer glanced at Mamen next to her, frowned and said, "What should we do now? This disguise is over just as it started."

Mamen smiled and shook her head, picked up the delicate pipe placed on the desk, lit it, and took a light puff.

"Not necessarily, or rather, I think it's just the opposite."

"This is a good opportunity," Marmon slowly exhaled a nearly invisible smoke, a skill that polite nobles possessed.

"It's a good opportunity to find out what Oedipus really wants," Marmon replied.

"And besides, she probably won't do anything if everything this young man said is true."

Marmon held the smoking pipe between her fingers and shook it gently. Suddenly, her expression changed and she became serious.

"But...did you come up with such an ingenious plan on your own? That's impossible. Regardless of your intelligence, you don't seem like a 'knower of ultimate truth'."

"You must have others behind you...either Agio or McNewdeau."

"Or maybe both."

Marmon's gaze, seemingly able to see through everything, stared intently at Merka, making her feel a naked sense of shame and embarrassment.

"...So what should I do now? Should I go directly?" Although Merka wanted to ask Marmon what she was talking about earlier, now was not a good time to ask.

"Of course not." Marmon's expression changed back to a light smile as she reopened the book she had placed on her thigh.

"You need to use dropback before you go," Marmon said.

Of course I know that... Merka thought to herself.

Merka cast a strange glance at Marmon and controlled the magic in her body to fill the metal sphere in her hand.

"Then I'll go." Merka specifically set dropback to exempt the two people in front of her, lest they exhaust their magic power again.

Merka came to the door and cautiously stuck her head out, looking left and right in the corridor, before carefully closing the door and leaving.

"Marmon, will he die?" asked Sarmell.

"He won't, probably," Marmon casually turned a page of the book in her hands, "but maybe."

--------------------

[Ha...ha...]

Mental fatigue permeated to the bone and rooted itself in the mind.

The weariness of emotions was not as painful as the recurrence of wounds for a seriously injured person, nor was it as torturous as the torment endured by a sleepless slacker throughout the night.

The exhaustion of the mind was like a lesion parasitizing deep in the heart, constantly making your body heavier, making it impossible for your breath to support the lobes of your lungs, depleting every bit of nutrients you painstakingly accumulated.

It was like a ghost hanging behind you, an inexorable nightmare, and it was like a pebble embedded in the sole of your shoe, destined to make you fail without knowing why.

Turing was currently experiencing this kind of pain.

[Where am I?]

[I remember... I witnessed... I saw my sister die right before my eyes.]

Just the thought of it made Turing want to cry.

In the darkness, Turing quickly grabbed onto something to stabilize their wavering figure.

Turing finally opened their eyes and, upon closer inspection, found that they were gripping a doorknob.

[How did something like this end up here?]

Turing looked around in astonishment, discovering that they were actually inside Taralus Castle and, coincidentally, they were standing right outside the room where they first met Gabriel.

No, Turing's feelings at this moment cannot be simply described as surprise. Turing felt a fear that made their heart race.

"When did I come back?"

"Did someone from the McNewdeau family bring me back?"

"No, that's not right!"

Turing was so scared that their hands trembled, almost opening the door.

"My magic power is almost full now!"