Has the knight lady who married into the countryside fallen into depravity today?

The darkness was completely dispelled by the blazing midday sun of the next day, and the lingering dampness of Silverscale Harbor seemed to have been evaporated by the inland sun.

Two muscular, black horses pulled a specially made heavy wagon, its wheels churning heavily across the gravel road in front of the manor. The Silverscale Merchant Guild's emblem, etched on the exterior of the wagon, gleamed coldly in the sunlight. The sturdy manganese steel wheels left two deep, bottomless ruts in the ground, as if the wagon were carrying not cargo, but a massive mountain.

This is the fourth truck to arrive at Klein Estate today.

Raymond, dressed in his ever-immaculate butler's uniform, not a single wrinkle could be found, stood quietly before the wrought-iron gate. He held a thick parchment list in one hand, his deep gaze checking the numbers of the wooden crates that had been moved down one by one.

"Take it easy, guys, this box is worth ten years' salary for you," Raymond casually reminded them.

Two burly laborers carefully lifted the iron and wooden crates, sealed with red tape, from the carriage. The moment one crate touched the warm air, a thick layer of white frost instantly formed on its surface with a hiss, and a chilling aura spread out. This was "Azure Ice Marrow," sourced from the far north, an excellent medium for stabilizing violent magical power.

The porter's fingers turned bright red from the cold, and even made a slight cracking sound as he nearly dropped the box.

Raymond moved with lightning speed, like a blur. His silver-tipped cane landed precisely and steadily on the bottom of the wooden box, and an invisible aura of energy instantly dissipated the weight that was enough to shatter the stone slab.

Klein stood on the second-floor terrace, holding a steaming cup of black tea, taking in the entire scene.

Ophelia stood half a step behind him.

The distance between the two had been reduced by a full half compared to when they were at Silverscale Harbor.

Most strikingly, her left hand rested naturally on the white stone railing without any cover. The intricate, almost artistic, traces of siren scales were exposed to the blazing sun.

Klein turned his head, his gaze lingering for a second on the scaly left hand, a faint smile playing on his lips. He didn't say anything sentimental, simply downing the cup of black tea in one gulp.

"The materials are all here. The Silverscale Merchant Guild has really brought all their best stuff this time." He turned around, placed his hands on the railing, and gazed into the distance with a deep look in his eyes.

The fifth carriage then stopped in front of the gate.

This vehicle is small in size and exquisitely decorated; it is a standard horse-drawn passenger carriage.

……

……

The car door opened, and Leila was the first to jump off the step. She was wearing a long gray linen dress, the hem cut short for ease of work. Once she was standing still, she immediately turned around and stretched out her calloused hands.

Karen, supported by her arm, stepped stiffly off the carriage. His body tensed almost awkwardly as his feet touched the solid, inland gravel road.

There's no sound of waves, no screams of seabirds, and no sticky, salty, damp air. Instead, there's the fresh scent of earth and pine, and a solid, inland sense of security.

Karen looked up, her gaze lingering on the manor's tall, pointed roofs and exquisitely carved stone pillars. Inland, he was a completely different person. The madman on the West Coast, spouting nonsense and ready to attack at any moment, was gone, replaced by a hunched-over young man with his hands unsure of what to do, his eyes filled with humility and shyness.

Leila took his wrist, like leading a child afraid of getting lost, and led him up the steps. She kept a watchful eye on her surroundings the whole way, the guards on duty making her uneasy.

Raymond greeted them gracefully: "Mr. Karen, Ms. Lyra, the master is waiting for you in the side hall. Please follow me."

In the side hall, the heavy velvet curtains were half-drawn, blocking some of the glaring sunlight and creating a tranquil atmosphere suitable for conversation.

Klein was nestled in a large leather armchair, legs crossed, his posture as relaxed as if he were on vacation. Ophelia, on the other hand, stood like a perfect sculpture, guarding the back of his chair, her right hand resting on the hilt of her sword. The knightly presence made the air in the room feel heavier.

Karen and Lyra sat on the long sofa opposite them, so cramped that they only dared to sit on the edge.

"The environment here has a strong suppressive effect on the 'thing' inside you." Klein put down his teacup, the clinking of the porcelain particularly clear in the quiet room. "It seems you enjoy this feeling of clarity."

Karen nodded repeatedly, her hands fidgeting nervously on her thighs. "Lord Klein, your kindness... I... I actually remember what happened back then." He lowered his head, his voice trembling. "I remember how I went mad like a beast, how I hurt Lyra, how I tore apart those innocent people. But at the time... I couldn't control myself. My mind was filled with that damned ocean noise, so loud I wanted to smash my skull."

Leila's eyes reddened as she gently patted his back.

Klein leaned forward slightly, a hint of amusement in his eyes, interrupting his lyricism: "I'm not here to hear your confession, Karen."

He looked directly into Karen's eyes, his tone becoming both seductive and cold: "Now that you're awake, I'll give you a new option. Inland, the siren's influence is minimal; you can live like a normal person. I can get Raymond to give you some money. You can work at a lumber mill sawing timber, or haul wheat from a distant farm. As long as you don't go to the coast, you might be able to live a peaceful life until old age. What do you say?"

Lyra's hands clenched tightly. She was afraid, afraid that Karen would be tempted by this illusory comfort and give up the only chance for a complete cure.

Karen was stunned. He looked at Lyra, then at Klein's gentle yet unfathomable face.

After a moment, he slowly straightened his spine.

"I refuse." Karen's voice was no longer trembling.

He raised his hand and pounded his left chest hard, making a dull thud. "I know very well that this thing is still hiding inside; it's just dozing off. The current comfort is just a reprieve. I don't want to hide inland for the rest of my life, like a turtle waiting for the curse to suddenly erupt one day."

He grasped Lyra's hand in return, his gaze piercing as he looked at Klein: "Since you're willing to help me, my life is yours. As long as this monster is killed, even if you have to cut my body open and stuff it into a magic circle, I will not back down. I don't want to be a madman anymore, sir."

After the long speech ended, a deathly silence fell over the side hall.

Klein looked at the man who had rediscovered the soul of a navigator, and a genuine sense of admiration finally appeared in his eyes.

He had originally planned that if Karen backed down, he would have no choice but to "ask" these two troublesome people out.

"Very good." Klein stood up, straightened his cuffs, and revealed a gentle, refined smile. "Then... it's a pleasure to cooperate with you."