Sasel met Astolfo's gaze without expression and gave a slight nod. To be honest, he had no idea what the knight intended by turning to him with eyes like a wounded animal—but nodding seemed safe enough; he could always ask for clarification later.
Under the arc lamp's glow, the knight—resembling a young maiden—breathed a sigh of relief. Droplets of seawater clung to his eyelashes, glistening as they lowered.
To the black sorcerer, the person before him appeared to be in his early twenties, with the delicate features of a sheltered noblewoman. His eyes were particularly striking—beautiful and translucent, always openly reflecting his emotions. His damp, pink hair draped over his face and shoulders, as if he had just stepped out of a bath. In his earlier moment of panic, he resembled a small animal even more than the sorcerer's newly accepted apprentice.
At his waist hung a longsword with a gilded hilt, bearing an abstract eagle insignia.
Jeanne didn't seem eager to converse with Astolfo, so Sasel patiently explained the cover story he and the inquisitor had devised. Yes, "he"—though Sasel wasn't sure if Jeanne had discerned the knight's true gender, as a black sorcerer, he could sense that the soul before him did not belong to a woman.
Still, he did appear quite feminine—more so than Jeanne. If Sasel had to describe it: Jeanne was a wild boar, while Astolfo was a harmless rabbit.
No bias intended.
His personality was easy to grasp—not so much innocent as lacking in rationality. He seemed adept at forgetting whatever he had been thinking just moments before. From drawing his sword to confront Sasel, to being swept into the sea by a wave, to being rescued, and then poking Sasel's face as if his brain had taken on water—all of it was done on impulse. He even attempted to befriend the "demon" he had just challenged to a duel, calling it his "first effort at making friends with a demon."
It was hard to fathom how such a curiosity-driven individual had survived this long.
Perhaps sheer luck?
In any case, he seemed to readily accept the story Sasel and Jeanne had concocted: a loyal knight, in a desperate bid to protect his inquisitor, merged his soul with a demon in the depths of a dungeon, just before death. The rest followed the usual adventure tropes—nothing particularly noteworthy.
—A sweet and romantic knightly tale?
The sparkle in Astolfo's eyes suggested as much.
What kind of twisted fantasy was he imagining!? Sasel barely restrained the urge to punch him.
Afterward, Astolfo, ignoring his soaked clothes and the long hair draped over his shoulders, walked directly to the lighthouse's other end to the lookout telescope. Upon hearing that they had spotted him through it, he began fiddling with the device.
"I feel like I'm going to vomit," Jeanne whispered to the black sorcerer while Astolfo was fiddling with the telescope. "I've never felt this disgusted before."
"This idiotic plot was your idea; I merely added the details," Sasel glanced at the telescope to ensure Astolfo hadn't turned around, then raised his right hand in front of her face and flipped her off. "Deep down, you must yearn to be surrounded by handsome men and gallant knights. Spouting such lowbrow, third-rate scripts makes you happy, doesn't it? After all, your psyche isn't much different from a lovestruck country girl."
Jeanne grabbed Sasel's extended middle finger and forcefully bent it downward. Her voice was soft, almost like a sigh, as if lovers were whispering sweet nothings—yet her words were anything but harmonious. "Can you heal bone fractures in the dream world?"
"By the truth! Can you calm down!?"
"Breaking the finger you used to insult me would help me calm down." The lighthouse's white light illuminated Jeanne's face, highlighting her twisted expression.
"I see the town!" Astolfo's voice rang out.
The relentless sea wind continued to howl, though it had become intermittent, as if nearing silence. Jeanne reluctantly released Sasel's finger and followed him toward the telescope.
At that moment, Astolfo had his eye pressed against the telescope, aiming it toward the island's interior.
Sasel placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Are you sure there's a normal town here?" he asked.
"Honestly, I have no idea, Mr. Sasel," Astolfo replied, pointing Jeanne and Sasel toward the mist-shrouded interior of the island. Just over ten minutes ago, Sasel had pulled him from the sea, yet now his face showed no trace of concern. "But that's part of the adventure, isn't it? Discovering the unknown—doesn't that bring happiness?"
"...As long as you're happy."
Sasel looked up at the lighthouse ceiling. If this were reality, perhaps someone once lived here, but now it seemed long abandoned. The leather wallpaper on the walls had peeled away, revealing gray-black bricks. The base of the arc lamp and the corners of the walls were dotted with cobwebs. Broken glass littered the floor, remnants of a shattered window on one side of the lighthouse, allowing the biting sea wind and pattering rain to sweep inside.
He lowered his head and turned to Jeanne. "Actually, I think—we could just stay here and wait until we naturally wake up."
"Can you use your magic?" Jeanne stared at him expressionlessly.
She didn't seem to agree with Sasel's suggestion.
"...I can."
"Then let's go," Jeanne made the sign of the cross over her chest and turned to descend the spiral staircase. "The Lord will protect you."
"Mm-hmm," Astolfo also turned around, making a somewhat sloppy sign of the cross over the black sorcerer's chest. He clasped his hands together, nodding as he said, "Alright, blessing complete. Now all we need to do is uncover the mysteries and explore what's happening here."
"This is just an illogical dream," Sasel said, despairingly covering his forehead.
"Precisely because it's an illogical dream, uncovering the mysteries will be even more enjoyable," Astolfo placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, gazing at the dark spiral staircase, speaking softly. After a pause, he added, "Also, um... I'm sorry for telling the inquisitor lady about the town on the island, which led to you being dragged along. But I'll do my best to help you in battle, since we're friends! Of course, my swordsmanship isn't great, so please don't laugh at me."
"I can't promise I won't laugh at you."
Sasel shrugged and followed the inquisitor down the stairs.
"Eh? Eh? Eh??"