In the stillness of the night, the wind of Lakeheart Town blew through the windowpanes, stirring the sheer curtains.
The candles had long since gone out, and only moonlight shone on the edge of the bed, where Paul and La Di were sleeping in each other's arms.
But at the same time, they are caught in a strange dream.
In the dream, the two stood on a boundless silver lake. There were no stars in the sky, but the water reflected layers upon layers of images.
They looked at each other, surprised to find that the other was there too.
"How did you end up in my dream?" Paul asked in a low voice.
La Di frowned slightly, her fingertips lightly touching her husband's cheek; the touch felt so real it didn't seem like an illusion.
She suddenly paused, a look of understanding flashing in her eyes: "It's her... Isabella."
Before the words were finished, ripples appeared on the lake, and a figure slowly rose from the water.
Isabella came barefoot across the water, her green hair flowing like a waterfall, her skin shimmering in the moonlight.
She was naked, yet showed no shame, a familiar, slightly mocking smile playing on her lips.
"I've finally seen you again, you heartless, ungrateful wretch." Her first words were reproachful, drawing out the last syllable. "You're having fun in my sisters' room while sending troops to attack the Serdan fleet—tell me, shouldn't you be punished?"
Paul was taken aback: " Serdan fleet?"
"Isn't that right?" Isabella approached and lightly tapped his chest with her fingertip. "Those hunting boats were ours, but now? Your men are sailing big ships, piloting cannons, shooting down every boat and bombing every squad. Those Serdan warriors haven't even reached the shore before they've been blown to bits."
She narrowed her eyes: "You create obstacles for the Serdan people, yet you're nestled in the arms of another version of me—should I be angry?"
Paul then understood what she meant. Just as he was about to argue, La Di frowned and said, "Isa, you know those ships are capturing people to be slaves and sent to the battlefield as cannon fodder. Paul intervened to protect the tribes of the North."
"Protection?" Isabella sneered. "You interfered in our Serdan business without a word, not even a greeting. What, am I, the Queen of Serdan, so insignificant in your eyes?"
She stared at Paul, her anger still burning, yet tinged with a hint of cunning: "Could it be... that you don't care about me at all?"
Paul immediately said, "How could I not care? It's just..." He suddenly laughed, "Your acting skills have declined quite a bit compared to back in the Soul Space."
He had a knowing look on his face: "Isha, are you kidding me?"
Isabella raised an eyebrow: "Oh? Then tell me, where did I tease you?"
Paul said slowly, "I knew all along that the slave ships heading to the Northland were sent by the other two Serdan kingdoms in Andesia. They were at war and desperately needed soldiers and laborers, which is why they were plundering the Bull-Headed People and the Cat People tribes to fight and work."
He looked her straight in the eye: "And your country wasn't involved, was it?"
Isabella's lips twitched slightly, her smile deepening, but she did not refute him.
Paul continued, "If you were truly angry about this, you should have come to me in my dreams to question me when the first ship was sunk. But you've waited until now, deliberately putting on this accusatory act—are you kidding me?"
Isabella finally laughed out loud, lightly tapping his nose with her fingertip: "You're still so perceptive. But I'm half genuinely angry—you attacked someone else's ship, and they're coming after me because the whole of the Southern Continent knows that only we trade with the Hornless. Those bastards actually sent messengers here, asking me to deliver a message to you."
"So you came to find me in my dream?"
"Otherwise what?"
"Isa," Paul said seriously, "if you are truly involved, I will never act on my own. I will first send a message through La Di, or discuss it with you in a dream, as we are doing now. There should be no secrets between us."
Isabella stared at him for a moment, then suddenly laughed: "At least you still have some conscience."
The anger in her eyes had long since softened, and a smile returned to her face: "Next time I'm really going to get angry, I'll have to come up with an even more unpredictable opening."
The three remained naked, yet there was no awkwardness between them—in this space where souls intertwined, the body was merely a reflection of the mind, and they already knew each other intimately, as if breathing.
Isabella leaned back slightly, her silver hair cascading down her shoulders like water. She narrowed her eyes, her gaze suddenly sharpening.
"Wait, you've described the situation in each of our countries so clearly." Her voice was soft but probing. "Could it be that you've planted spies among us?"
Paul shook his head, his expression calm: "Don't jump to conclusions. I didn't send any spies. Everything I know comes from public sources."
"Because we have to do business," he explained calmly. "Whenever a merchant ship arrives in a new area, Northwest Bay systematically gathers information about the local society, politics, and customs. Who is allied with whom, who is at war, what trade policies are in place, what goods are in demand—all of this relates to whether we can profit locally and… ensure our safety."
He paused and continued, "You Serdans have three kingdoms that have coexisted for a long time, and this information was already recorded in the reports brought back by the first merchant ships."
"Information itself is neither good nor evil; the key lies in how it is collected and used. We do not pry into privacy, but if your public policies, laws, and diplomatic stances can be understood by outsiders, then that is a side of you that you are willingly revealing."
"Alright, I won't pursue this matter further!" Isabella lightly traced the corner of her lips with her fingertips, suddenly adopting a nonchalant yet meaningful expression.
She said softly, "Then let's talk business."
She suddenly frowned, looking directly at Paul. "I know you sent people to dig up gold on the east coast of the Northland. Exploding mountains with gunpowder, mining with pickaxes—did you think I was kept in the dark just because we're separated by the ocean? Damn it, Paul Greiman, you didn't call me when you had this good thing! That's what really makes me angry!"
Paul was slightly taken aback, then gave a wry smile: "You even know this?"
"Although our country no longer goes north to plunder slaves, there are still fleets traveling between the north and south. Fishermen have seen your mining camps, and some news naturally reaches my ears."
She took a step closer, her tone becoming unquestionable: "Since you're digging for gold there, I want a piece of the pie too. I don't accept a share afterward, nor do I care for the scraps you offer. What I want is to be at the table from the very beginning."
Paul was silent for a moment, then finally shrugged helplessly: "You want to be a partner?"
"That's right." Isabella's smile deepened. "I can provide funds, magic, and even our Serdan people's rare corrosion-resistant alloy—for your deep well supports. If you are short of manpower, I can also send a group of volunteers under the guise of contract laborers, neither slaves nor prisoners, paid according to their work."
She stared at him, her eyes sharp. "Then, based on the proportion of resources invested, you'll receive a share of the mine's profits. How about that?"