Various possibilities ran through his mind.
Was his method wrong?
Or—
"…Seems right," he murmured softly. "Maybe it's not about the technique, but about the world itself—the reality in which the Skill was created."
He smiled faintly.
"Perhaps I really do need to visit the world of One Piece to understand Haki… and the world of DxD for Senjutsu."
Gabriel then rose and sat up, the sea rippling lightly around him. Morgan turned to him, gazing from the side with her usual calm yet piercing eyes.
"Have you found where the mistake lies?" Morgan asked.
"Yes," Gabriel replied briefly.
He paused for a moment, then as if recalling something, added, "Oh, Fay," he said, glancing slightly at her. "You want to meet Baobhan Sith again, don't you?"
Morgan didn't answer immediately.
"If so," Gabriel continued calmly, "after this mission in this world is finished… I'll find a way."
The ocean returned to silence.
And among the slowly calming waves, that small decision began to shape the direction of their next journey.
Morgan remained silent for a long moment.
The sea breeze drifted gently, causing the water's surface to shimmer under the moonlight. Her fingertip brushed the ocean, sending out small ripples that quickly vanished.
"…If that's possible," she finally replied, her voice low and calm as always, yet slightly losing some of its usual sharpness.
She stared at the horizon, not at Gabriel.
"Not out of longing," Morgan continued briefly. "I just want to make sure… whatever I left behind there has truly ended."
A moment of silence enveloped them again.
"You don't need to force yourself," she added, her tone returning to its cold, controlled manner. "Your priority should remain on your own path."
But after a brief pause—almost imperceptible—Morgan added,
"…But if you truly do it, I will follow you wherever you go."
Small ripples spread around them. And though Morgan's face remained expressionless, there was something faint—like an old emotion finally acknowledged, even if never spoken aloud.
Seeing that, Gabriel gave a faint smile.
Without a single word, through the Ki radiating from Morgan, he understood—that the woman harbored a faint longing for her adopted daughter.
Morgan turned, glancing at Gabriel from the side. "You just read my Ki?" she asked flatly.
Gabriel said nothing.
He merely shifted his gaze straight toward the horizon, then stepped forward to stand directly in front of Morgan. The sea beneath them rippled lightly, reflecting the pale moonlight.
His right hand rose, partially covering his face, while his left palm extended toward Morgan—calm, open.
"Nothing escapes Ash's observation," Gabriel said in a low, resonant voice that echoed through the emptiness. "The pale mist that watches the stars."
Morgan stared at him for a few seconds, her expression unchanged.
The sea breeze whispered between them, carrying the scent of salt and the lingering traces of Mana not yet fully dissipated.
"…Hmph," she murmured softly. "You really have reached that stage, haven't you."
Her tone was flat, yet not dismissive.
"Reading other people's Ki at will," Morgan continued, "is a bad habit for someone who cares too much."
She finally let out a small sigh—almost inaudible. "But if it's you," she said, "I'm not surprised."
Morgan then extended her hand. Her movement was calm, certain, without the slightest hesitation.
Her palm met Gabriel's small hand. The contact was brief, yet unmistakable—a silent acknowledgment.
For a moment, the gentle touch made Gabriel flinch slightly.
His shoulders tensed for a fraction of a second, then he quickly composed himself. His expression remained calm, but a faint warmth spread to his ears.
He glanced slightly to the side, raising his right hand to partially cover his face as before.
"…The pale mist," he murmured softly, striving to keep his tone low and symbolic, "merely reflects what is already in the sky."
His fingers tensed slightly before relaxing again. "If the stars shine with emotion," he continued, "then it makes sense for the mist to catch their reflection."
He slowly withdrew his hand.
"…That's all."
Morgan regarded him a moment longer than usual.
No further comment was made.
Yet, for the first time that night, the waves around them felt noticeably warmer.
***
The ancient city of Alexandria.
A month had passed.
During that time, as usual, many things had happened. But there was one matter personally significant to Gabriel—Shadow Garden had now reached six hundred and twenty members.
With that achievement, Gabriel's first two Main Missions had been declared complete.
Only the Third Mission remained, the final requirement before he could submit a System Evaluation.
That afternoon, Gabriel strolled leisurely along the stone streets of Alexandria. At his side, Beta walked calmly, carrying a report board filled with neatly organized sheets of data.
Meanwhile, a trolley was pushed in front of Gabriel—and atop it sat Eta, wearing a lazy expression, showing not the slightest hint of being "transported."
Their destination was the testing area: a place where various Magecraft experiments, Mystic Codes, artifacts, chemicals, and experimental devices were assessed to evaluate their strengths and weaknesses.
The reason for their visit was simple—Gabriel and Eta had several experiments they wanted to conduct on a magical machine: the Four Dimension Printer.
The machine's function was to mass-produce a communication artifact.
"The current number of Shadow Garden members is five hundred and thirty," Beta reported, reading the data on her board. "Around four hundred are still in training. The rest are on separate missions."
Gabriel nodded slightly.
Without breaking his stride, a faint magical circle glimmered behind his eyes—a Gigan pattern pulsing once, then vanishing.
"One hundred and thirty in the field," he said flatly.
He cast a brief glance at Beta.
"Four hundred in training," Gabriel continued calmly. "As always… beautiful like the stars, flowing through the cosmos of boundless emptiness."
"…I'm not sure if that's a metaphor or a statistical evaluation," Beta said matter-of-factly. "But if Ash-sama says it, I will record it as a stable condition developing according to expectations."
She lowered the report board slightly, adjusting her glasses.
"Even so," Beta continued, her tone returning to professional, "the actual number of active members has already reached six hundred and twenty, if you include support units, logistics, and additional research cells."
He glanced at Eta, who was sitting lazily atop the trolley, completely unconcerned about her status as "cargo."
"However, for the core combat structure," Beta added, "five hundred and thirty is the relevant number."
The trolley continued rolling along Alexandria's stone streets, its wheels creaking softly.
Beta returned her gaze to the report sheets and spoke without lifting her head.
"And the fact that Ash-sama can immediately verify these numbers without even reading the report…"
She paused for a moment.
"…still makes me think that our reporting system will one day become obsolete."
Her tone was calm. Yet from the way she straightened the papers, it was clear—Beta did not feel threatened.
On the contrary, she was motivated.
For a moment, silence settled between them, broken only by the soft creaking of the trolley wheels over the stone street.
"Ah…"
Gabriel suddenly remembered something.
Without stopping his stride—even without glancing back—he said, "Beta, I just remembered. You've already become an author, haven't you?"
Beta's steps slowed for a fraction of a second. The pen in her hand hovered mid-air, then she lowered the report board slightly.
"…Correct," she answered.
Her tone remained calm and professional, yet there was a subtle tremor beneath it—not excessive pride, but confidence in her own role.
"All of that is to infiltrate and build an intelligence network within the Midgard City media," Beta continued. "So that we can gain access through legal and social channels."
She adjusted her glasses, then elaborated further.
"The scope covers political information, noble gossip, movements of key figures, public opinion trends—and data that would be impossible to obtain through illicit means."
Gabriel nodded slightly. He had already suspected the answer; his earlier question was merely a direct confirmation from Beta herself.
"The right choice," he said calmly. "This way, the Shadow Garden intelligence network expands… without me needing to intervene personally."
He added, this time with a light yet sincere tone, "Congratulations, Beta."
Beta paused for a moment.
"…Thank you, Ash-sama," she finally replied.
Gabriel gave a faint smile. He raised his right hand, and atop his palm, Mana flowed slowly—forming two small misty orbs, each the size of a pearl.
"For that," Gabriel said calmly, "you deserve a reward."
The next moment, the misty spheres moved and spun, then materialized into a thick-covered book with pages that seemed nearly endless.
On the other hand, Beta's gaze betrayed her deep admiration.
Gabriel's creation magic—structured yet unconventional—always existed beyond the common framework of understanding, even for someone like her, accustomed to wonders.
Meanwhile, Eta looked up.
The Elf girl's gaze was filled with curiosity—but it carried something far more dangerous.
Somehow, through the faint flow of Ki, Gabriel could read the intent behind those eyes. A clear desire: to dissect it. Not metaphorically.
Gabriel closed his eyes briefly, then met Eta's gaze with absolute calm.
"Eta," he said evenly. "That will not happen. And I am not granting permission."
"…Tch."
Eta clicked her tongue, then turned her attention back to the corridor ahead, pretending disinterest—though her curiosity was clearly still burning.