Chương 242: Chapter 241 - Divine Determination

It was midnight. Lucid stood at the deck of the harbor after carrying the heavy Oni companion to her resting place on the floor beside the door. He watched her breathing settle into the steady rhythm of sleep. He was wide awake. He was not alone. Alice remained conscious with him, her presence a quiet weight at the edges of his thoughts. He did nothing in particular. He made no plans. He initiated no conversation.

He simply stared out through the Starlight carriage windows, watching darkness stretch across the void outside. The interior of the carriage held a particular kind of stillness, spacious and hushed. He settled into the lounge, sinking into cushions that had been designed for comfort. A projection device stood in the corner, similar to something he had seen mounted in a tavern and again at the sky docks.

It resembled the wanted notices and advertisements he had witnessed during his journey from Tyriana to Vex, flickering images meant to capture attention quickly. He watched the scattered realms television without any particular investment, simply letting the images wash over him. The device offered practical function despite its limitations. Only one channel existed. The same channel played regardless of when he checked. His eyes burned at the corners, sore from prolonged staring.

A faint green glow pulsed from somewhere inside his chest, chasing away some of the exhaustion, replacing it with a wakefulness that felt unnatural given the late hour. Weight settled across his lap. A pair of arms wrapped around his neck. A figure materialized directly on top of him, straddling his waist with deliberate intent. Her head tilted downward, examining his face with open curiosity. Alice. She had achieved full manifestation from thin air, more complete and solid than any previous appearance.

Her presence carried weight now, actual physical pressure against his body. Her gaze had been moving through his memories with increasing frequency, an intrusion he had grown accustomed to without fully accepting. Her lips parted.

"What are you hiding?" Her voice carried an uncertainty that bordered on sadness, a crack running through the usual divine composure she projected. Lucid said nothing. His attention remained fixed on the projection screen, though the images had long since dissolved into static. She leaned closer, her chin dipping down until her face hovered mere inches above his. He turned his head away. He didn't want this.

Yet some fragment of him did want it, wanted the closeness and the attention despite every instinct telling him to resist. It was always like this between them, this push and pull that never resolved into anything clean. Her hand found his chin. She guided his face back toward her with deliberate possessiveness, her fingers firm against his jaw.

"Why won't you sleep?" Her voice remained soft, yet carried an undertone of authority that brooked no argument.

"You know why," Lucid replied, his tone flat and final. Silence stretched between them, dense with everything neither of them chose to voice.

"Your job here is finished," she said.

"Do we really have to—" he started. She silenced him with a touch, her palm settling against his cheek with gentle pressure. He looked away again, releasing an audible breath. She inched closer instead of retreating, both hands now cupping either side of his face. Her lips hovered above his, close enough that he felt the warmth radiating from her presence, close enough that the space between them crackled with something he refused to name. He stood abruptly.

She dissolved into smoke, her form scattering into nothing. Heat rushed to his head, a flush he couldn't properly categorize, something small and red and entirely unwelcome. He looked around the space, orienting himself in the physical world again. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Ayame remained by the door where he had left her. When he had first brought her into the carriage, she had refused every assigned room, forcing him to select one himself.

Guests were typically free to choose their own quarters, but Lucid had picked the room at the top of the second floor for himself, drawn to the view it offered whenever they traversed the void between locations. The room was modest in size, small enough to feel contained, reminiscent of his old dormitory. That confined space provided a sense of urgency he found himself craving amid all the foreign elements surrounding him in this world. Ayame stayed curled beside the carriage door, asleep.

She slept constantly, more than seemed natural even accounting for her recent transformation. Lucid wandered the space for a while before making his way toward the kitchen, intent on preparing something to drink. He examined the cupboards stocked with seasoning oils and various cooking implements. His attention shifted to his right, landing on a boxy structure that resembled a refrigeration unit.

"They actually have fridges in this world," he muttered. Alice's voice returned, curious now.

"A fridge?" Lucid allowed himself a small laugh at the realization that she had no context for modern electronics, given her origins as a divine maiden from some ancient era.

"It keeps food and beverages cold," he explained.

"That is remarkably useful," she replied, genuine wonder coloring her tone. He opened the door and surveyed the contents. Vegetables filled several compartments. Glass bottles held what appeared to be wine and milk. Leftovers sat covered in a corner. He retrieved a pot and examined its contents. Porridge. Watery, thin, entirely unappetizing porridge.

"The quality and consistency of this porridge looks inedible," she observed dryly.

"I would serve this to prisoners I kept locked away."

"Did your knight prepare that? Sir Frederick, was it?" Alice asked, teasing evident in her tone. Lucid wore an expression of patient endurance, as if he were the one being unfairly accused of the culinary crime.

"Arthur," he corrected.

"And yes..." He lied. He returned the pot to its place and continued examining the kitchen. A stove occupied one corner. A table surrounded by stools and chairs sat centrally. Knives hung along one wall. Cloth and aprons were folded neatly nearby. The Starlight carriage was genuinely massive, more so than he had initially appreciated. He studied the space for a long moment.

"Unfortunate that I will have to hand this over to that ghost of a governor," he said, resignation coloring his words.

"You are not obligated to," Alice pointed out.

"I am," he replied flatly. Karmen had always presented himself as pleasant man, but every interaction remained transactional at its core. Besides, Lucid suspected he could probably negotiate something equally valuable in exchange for surrendering the carriage. But that would complicate future travel considerably, not merely for himself but for the others as well.

'Others,' he thought, catching himself. Why had his mind defaulted to thinking of them collectively? Once his current obligations concluded, they would inevitably part ways. The transcendence was no more, and he was free to go wherever he pleased. He shook his head against the thought. Yet he had made a commitment to walk the same path as Ayame. Abandoning that commitment felt genuinely unthinkable. He shook his head again, more forcefully this time, as if the motion could dislodge the uncomfortable realization.

"Are you experiencing doubts?" Alice asked.

"No. Nothing," he sighed.

"It certainly seemed like something. Why do you conceal things from me? I exist within you. I know every one of your deepest mortal secrets already. Confide in me. Confess to me, and I shall grant you forgiveness." That seem to have twisted a nerve.

"For someone so supposedly high and mighty and divine," Lucid shot back mentally, "you certainly fluster easily." Alice managed something resembling an offended gasp.

"Excuse me?!" Lucid stood up suddenly, ignoring her indignation, and began stretching his arms and shoulders with deliberate purpose.

"What exactly are you plotting now," Alice demanded, suspicion evident in her tone.

"I need to access your soulscape," he stated.

"How do I accomplish that?" She made a sound of genuine surprise.

"That is not something a mortal should attempt—" He exhaled sharply, cutting her off.

"I know what it involves. Domain control, or something approximating the concept. Every Enlightened wields a soulscape as their internal sanctuary. Domain control refers to the capability of manifesting that sanctuary and imposing its properties onto physical reality." Alice sounded genuinely confused now.

"How do you know this?" Lucid allowed himself a small, confident smirk.

"I know considerably more than you assume, sweetheart." He focused inward, attempting something that felt like clawing his way through the boundaries of his own physical form. The attempt failed entirely. He felt pathetic, straining against limitations he couldn't quite identify or overcome.

"Give it up, Lucid," Alice whispered, her voice suddenly intimate, positioned directly beside him though her form remained invisible. He continued regardless, gritting his teeth against sensations that exceeded normal mortal thresholds, straining every vein in his body toward an objective he couldn't fully articulate even to himself. He exhaled heavily. The green light and aura that constantly surrounded him flared with sudden intensity, brightness increasing beyond its typical baseline.

Blood tears traced down his left cheek without warning, thin red lines cutting through pale skin. Nausea overwhelmed him. His knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the floor. Alice's voice carried genuine alarm now.

"Why are you straining your body this severely?"

"Please," she added, something close to desperation entering her tone. He grinned despite the pain radiating through his entire nervous system.

"Four more sets remaining of divine pain," he managed, his voice strained but determined.