Almost at the exact same time, on the balcony of Castello Portovino, Cantarella Fesale also received news from within the city.
After a servant finished his low-voiced report, he retreated silently into the room and quietly closed the doors behind him.
Cantarella leaned languidly against the carved railing, her fingertips gently tracing the petals of a blooming night rose. Having heard the report, she let out an incredibly soft, ambiguous chuckle.
"Heh, our pure and kind Supreme Priest Phoebe is truly... bursting with vitality."
She turned her head to look at Rover beside her, who was leaning against the railing and gazing out at the cityscape of Laguna. A playful light swirled in her blue-purple eyes. "Trying to use absolute sunlight to kill all the shadows? A beautiful thought, but what a pity..."
"Shadows never obediently disappear. They only blend into deeper places, or... turn around and swallow the overly blinding light source."
She gently swirled the wine glass in her hand, the deep red liquid inside resembling coagulated blood. "That old dog Alex has finally learned to be smart this time. Hiding in the back, he just gave a gentle push... and let our little white dove smash her own head open."
"Truly... a textbook trap of the rules."
Rover withdrew his gaze from the distant city skyline. His golden eyes were calm and waveless, as if he had expected this outcome all along.
"Pure, supreme goodness, without the power and wisdom to protect itself, will instead become the source of turmoil itself."
His voice was deep, revealing neither joy, anger, nor any other emotion. "The very first lesson Phoebe needs to learn... is to recognize the weight of reality, and to learn how to use and master the rules."
"So, as her mentor, do you plan to continue enjoying the scenery here," Cantarella's lips curled into an ambiguous arc. Leaning her body slightly toward him, her fragrant breath brushed against his ear, "or... are you going to go give your lost, wounded little lamb a practical lesson?"
Rover didn't answer directly; he merely gave her a faint glance.
He raised his hand, downed the remaining blood-red wine in his glass in one gulp, set the glass down, and turned to walk toward the balcony exit.
Cantarella watched his retreating back without stopping him. She merely let out a knowing chuckle, like a night rose silently blooming under the moonlight.
"It seems... the nights in Laguna always belong to those in need of guidance."
Saying so, she looked toward a cluster of magnificent buildings in the northwest of Laguna City, muttering to herself.
"Miss Coletta, it looks like we are going to gain yet another 'ally'..."
Cantarella's whisper dissipated into the sea breeze sweeping across the balcony, while Rover's figure had already vanished into the castle's deep corridors.
Phoebe had locked herself in the prayer room she used to frequent alone back when she was just a cleric. It was already late at night.
Her tears had long since dried up, and her throat was so choked she couldn't make a sound.
She held that reform draft tightly in her arms, as if it were her only lifeline, yet it felt so heavy and ironic.
"Was I wrong? Sentinel above... was I really wrong?" she cried out silently to the walls of the prayer room. "I just wanted to fulfill your expectations, to fulfill Lord Rover's expectations, to make the Convent better..."
"Why... why did it turn out like this..."
Once again, the deity she believed in maintained its silence. The statue of the Sentinel on the wall could offer her no solace; instead, it acted like a cage, trapping her in boundless self-doubt and despair.
At that moment, the heavy doors of the prayer room were pushed open without a sound.
A tall, slender figure stepped inside. The moonlight outlined his familiar silhouette behind him, and his golden eyes were like two dormant stars in the dim environment.
Phoebe snapped her head up. The moment she saw the newcomer, an immense wave of grievance and shame surged up once more. She was on the verge of breaking down again, her words fragmenting: "Rover... I..."
Rover didn't speak immediately. He simply walked up to her and gazed at her calmly.
That gaze held no blame and no pity—only a bottomless calmness that seemed capable of absorbing all her panic.
"They never stopped attacking you, Phoebe." His voice was deep, exceptionally clear in the silent prayer room. "Only the methods changed. The enemies in the shadows no longer charged at you head-on. Instead, they used your own weapons—your purity and your justice—twisted them, and turned them into sharp blades aimed right back at you."
Phoebe stared at him blankly.
"There is nothing wrong with you pursuing the light."
"But you forgot that the brighter the light, the darker the shadows it casts. You only saw the goal in the distance, but ignored the traps at your feet and the thorns around you," he analyzed calmly and methodically. "You tried to use ideals to fight cruel reality, and declarations of justice to challenge unspoken rules that have operated for decades, even centuries."
"This in itself is an extremely arduous battle. It requires power, and even more so, it requires wisdom."
"But I... I have no power... and no wisdom..." Phoebe choked out, her tears falling uselessly once again. "I am just an ordinary Resonator, with only years of mediocre experience as a cleric... I only have a heart full of useless..."
"You do have it," Rover interrupted her. He reached out his hand, his fingertips gently lifting her chin, forcing her to look at him. "You possess the very thing they fear the most—you have your connection with me and the reformist will of the two major families. But you failed to use this power properly."
"You treated it as a burden in your heart, rather than a weapon to assist yourself."
His words were like a scalpel, precisely dissecting the root cause of her failure.
"You were unwilling to seek its help. For the sake of the faith in your heart, and for the expectations of others, you desperately hoped to prove yourself."
"Lord Rover... I..."
Phoebe seemed to want to argue, but Rover shook his head, cutting her off, and continued:
"That god you believe in, that Convent you once dedicated everything to..."
Rover's voice paused. He looked at the tear-stained Phoebe before him.
He silently said a word of apology in his heart to that loyal subordinate of his who had long since departed, and then raised his voice, issuing a question that struck directly at Phoebe's soul.
"When you needed guidance and strength the most, did He answer you? What did He give you?"
Phoebe's pupils violently contracted. This question was like the ultimate judgment, completely shaking the foundation of her long-held faith.
"But," Rover's voice became incredibly clear, carrying an authority akin to a divine oracle descending from the heavens. "I am here."
He stared into her eyes, enunciating every word: "Now, let go of your attachment to the past, Phoebe."
"Answer me. Are you willing to dedicate your entire faith, your absolute loyalty, and your future path... to me?"
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