Chapter 580: There Is No Night in Blood Harbor |
“I’m sorry, Lady Nora! I was in such a hurry just now—I didn’t notice—I’m really sorry!”
Gwen lowered her head tearfully in front of Nora, who was now being held in Nini’s arms, angrily scolding Gwen.
Hughes couldn’t help but smile wryly at the sight. Sometimes, he felt that Big Gwen only looked mature—hardened by the fires of war—but her nature was actually more like a child’s.
On the contrary, Little Gwen always gave off a more mature feeling, which made for quite the contrast.
After reprimanding Gwen for quite a while, Nora still couldn’t let her anger go. She jumped up and gave Gwen’s forehead a hard headbutt before huffing back into Nini’s embrace.
Nini supported her with two of her hands, gently rubbing Nora’s head with another pair, while her remaining two hands were busy writing something in a notebook.
Wait a moment—
Hughes suddenly felt something was off. If Nini kept writing like that, tomorrow’s newspaper might end up polluted. He quickly stepped forward and stopped in front of Gwen.
“Long time no see, Gwen. Do you want to take a look around Blood Harbor first, or go straight to Castel?”
Since Castel had been explicitly mentioned, Castel Island was naturally open to them.
Though due to the Castel Syndrome problem, the number of people allowed to set foot on the island had always been tightly controlled—mainly because of the limited hospital beds.
But from the look of it, Gwen seemed to be adapting quite well. She didn’t seem like someone about to lose her mind.
Gwen looked around curiously, even pressing down with her foot to leave a faint footprint on the cemented road.
Hughes glanced at the mark on the concrete surface and sighed.
She’s adapting too well.
Why was it that others went mad upon arriving at Castel, but when it came to Gwen, it was Nora who went mad in her stead?
Some kind of substitution reaction, huh?
Nora still looked furious. She had always been expressionless before—Hughes had even secretly wondered if she could make any expression at all.
Apparently, she just hadn’t met anyone capable of provoking her before.
“I—I think I’ll look around Blood Harbor first!” Gwen said eagerly, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the surrounding buildings. After getting out of the car, she could finally take in the full scale of the city’s architecture.
“Alright. I’m on the top of the building you’re looking at. My office is on the seventh floor. Whenever you want to head to Castel, just knock on my door.”
“Seventh floor!?” Gwen’s eyes widened. “That high? Aren’t you afraid?”
Hughes couldn’t help but laugh. Only seven floors—this building had nine in total. Compared to the towering skyscrapers of Blue Star that easily reached dozens of stories, this was nothing.
It only looked tall because most of the buildings in this world were single-story.
Reinforced concrete could easily support buildings over a hundred meters tall, but Hughes hadn’t planned to construct anything that high yet.
High-rises were a pain to maintain. This office building had ten floors mainly to accommodate Banshees—some rooms had higher ceilings for them. The Banshees themselves usually only used the fourth or fifth floors.
Perhaps in the future, when land became scarce, more high-rises would rise—but for now, Blood Harbor didn’t need them.
Monuments ruin nations, Hughes thought.
“Amazing, amazing!” Gwen murmured, her face full of excitement.
Hughes cast a glance at Nora. He had wanted Nora to take Gwen on a tour of Blood Harbor, but seeing her current mood—
“I’ll do it,” he said.
Sensing Hughes’s gaze, Nora’s expression returned to its usual calm. Still, her eye twitched slightly when her gaze passed over Gwen.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Hughes asked.
“What could happen? I won’t die,” Nora replied with a trace of bitterness. “And a promise is a promise. I said I’d take Gwen around, so I will.”
With that, she pushed off lightly, leaping from Nini’s hands, tracing an arc in the air before landing right in Gwen’s arms.
“Ah!”
Gwen froze, unsure whether to hold her or set her down.
“I’ll arrange a place for you to stay,” Hughes said. “You’ll be notified later.”
“Alright. Should I come to your office then?”
“No need. You go enjoy yourself. Either the Banshee Patrol Squad or the Mystics’ Night Patrol will contact you.”
Gwen had heard of the Banshee Patrol Squad—but the Mystics’ Night Patrol?
“What is the Mystics?” she asked Nora softly.
“A semi-official organization in Blood Harbor. They assist Castel in managing this area, sharing defense duties with the Prince’s Harbor Guard.”
“Ah… Won’t there be conflict between them? They’re two different groups, after all.”
“There won’t,” Nora replied. “Blood Harbor barely needs defending. Since the Mother Goddess’ rebellion, no one has dared cause trouble here.”
Gwen glanced at the group of Banshees nearby counting money in a circle, then at the armed Expeditionary Army soldiers standing guard by the station, and had to admit—it made sense.
Any organization that could stir up trouble here would have to be capable of standing toe-to-toe with the Empire itself.
Hughes was very busy and had no time to personally guide Gwen. After a quick farewell, he departed under the protection of several Banshee guards—ever since Earl Bazel’s assassination attempt, he was always accompanied by them.
“So, Lady Nora, what’s our plan next?” Gwen asked.
“It’s getting late,” Nora replied. “I’ll show you around for a bit. Tomorrow, you’ll visit the priests of the Silent Sanctum and see if they can help with treatment. Also, Bazel’s retrial should be starting soon.”
Gwen looked up at the sky—it was indeed late. The setting sun painted the city in gold, but its light was fading fast, soon to fall beyond the horizon.
She didn’t mind. Well—she wasn’t even sure if she counted as a Transcendent, but she could see perfectly well in the dark.
What surprised her was that the residents of Blood Harbor weren’t rushing home either. At this hour, shouldn’t they be hurrying?
Her confusion was soon answered.
More people appeared on the streets—carrying ladders.
They wore tall, stiff hats, long rods hanging from their waists, as they walked toward the “posts” by the roadside.
They placed their ladders against the posts, hooking them onto the horizontal bars, and climbed up to open the glass casings on top.
Then they descended, inserted keys into the valve-box locks, lifted the iron covers, revealing brass octagonal valve wheels—and turned them open by hand.
A faint hissing sound came from within the posts. Were they hollow inside?
One of the men stepped back, struck a match, and lit the candle at the end of his long rod—then held it up toward the glass casing.
A small flicker of flame appeared above their heads—then quickly grew brighter, illuminating the street.
“That’s a gas lamp,” Nora said softly. “When evening comes, they light up—Blood Harbor has no night.”