Shrouded Seascape

Faced with Margaret's heartbreaking outburst, Charles wanted to say a few words of comfort, but Margaret raised her clenched fists and slammed them into Charles' head.

Margaret gnashed her teeth and swung her fists. Each of her punches was heavier than the last, as if she was trying to vent all of her grievances at once.

"What's wrong with me?! Why can't you choose me?!" Margaret exclaimed in a voice filled with endless grievance.

Margaret's strength was astonishingly great, and Charles' head eventually caved in from the former's punches. However, Charles' head quickly returned to normal when a pillar made out of flesh sprouted from the sofa and entered his head.

"The thing is, I'm confused, too. It's not a bad idea to have a partner here, so how come I didn't look for one?" Charles asked, looking a bit dazed as his thoughts began to drift away.

As far as Charles could remember, Bandages had brought Margaret onto the ship as a slave to serve as a sacrificial offering. At the time, Margaret's pure eyes were full of fear and unease; the sight of her would make anyone find her pitiful.

When Charles finally returned to Hope Island after spending three years as a lunatic, Margaret stared at him with aggrieved, disbelieving eyes upon realizing that Charles couldn't recognize her grace toward him.

Margaret had also shown him her determined and furious side with her gaze back when she visited Hope Island to borrow a fleet in an effort to reclaim the Isle of Whereto.

Finally, in the Core up above, Margaret became a double agent and hid her feelings for Charles in the deepest recesses of her heart to ensure that the latter wouldn't get blindsided.

Charles browsed through his memories containing Margaret as if he were watching a movie. Strange emotions welled up in his heart when he saw how many things she had done for him, including the sacrifices she made for him.

At this moment, Charles keenly felt that his humanity had yet to completely fade away. He could still feel Margaret's feelings for him.

Margaret was also experiencing a whirlwind of emotions as she stared at the man in her arms. Finally, she raised her trembling right hand to his face and caressed it gently before whispering, "Charles, I've been waiting far too long. I don't want to wait anymore."

Charles snapped out of his thoughts, and his eyes widened slightly.

"I've already become like this, but you still want to be with me?"

"I don't care. I like you."

"This might really be our last meeting. Perhaps we might not see each other again."

"It doesn't matter! I've always been running away, and I don't want to run away anymore. The result doesn't matter; I'm willing to face it. And I want to be with you, even if it's just for a day!" Margaret exclaimed, looking particularly agitated.

Charles thought carefully about it, but he found no reason to refuse.

It wouldn't be bad to enjoy a bit of love before his humanity was no more. He stared at Margaret for a while before opening his arms and embracing her. ɽ𝙖ɴo͍ꞖÈŜ

As soon as they touched each other, a surge of happiness welled up in Margaret's heart, and her icy cold facade, which was capable of keeping people a thousand miles away, faded instantly, replaced by a hint of blush suffusing her cheeks.

Margaret felt like she was a young woman in love again, and she reached out hurriedly, hugging Charles tightly.

Charles' figure no longer felt cold in her arms, but this was not an illusion. It was happening out of her sight, but blood and flesh were being pumped into Charles from inside the sofa, turning him "human."

Charles lowered his head and kissed her again.

As the two kissed passionately, Margaret's breathing quickened, and her hands began to wander around Charles' figure.

"Close your eyes."

Margaret immediately complied, and the floor cracked open, revealing a hole covered in flesh and blood. The two rolling on the sofa were immediately engulfed by the fissure, obfuscating them from any prying eyes.

An unknown amount of time later, Margaret snuggled up to Charles. She had taken on a pinkish hue, and she felt both weakened and numb.

Right now, Margaret did not feel like doing anything, but she wished that time would stop for her so that she could stay in Charles' arms forever.

"Do you have any wishes? I can try and fulfill them for you. From a human perspective, I'm probably omnipotent," Charles remarked.

Margaret looked up at him in surprise. "Can you bring my family back to life?"

The atmosphere became a bit awkward.

"No." Charles shook his head. "It's been too long, and the souls of those who died at sea all belong to Fhtagn. I can't find their souls at all. If their souls were still around, I'd be able to do that."

Margaret stretched like a house cat. "So you're not as powerful as I had imagined."

"Haha, but I can still do quite a few useful things. For example, I can restore your body to its prime, and I can also make you immortal."

Charles froze and then shook his head. "Nevermind. Immortality is a curse for human beings, and it is better for you to remain mortal."

With that, he stretched out a finger and placed it on Margaret's scar. He applied a bit of force, and red flesh with a granular texture grew rapidly within her scar. The hideous scar marring Margaret's face healed at a rate visible to the naked eye.

Just as Charles was about to completely erase the scar, Margaret reached out and grabbed his finger.

Margaret brushed aside the hair covering her face and asked, "Do you hate this face?"

"I don't hate it." Charles shook his head. "But as a girl, don't you want to look prettier if possible?"

"Didn't you say that we might not see each other again? If we're never going to see each other again, then let's just maintain the status quo. I'm afraid I won't be able to control those under me if I end up becoming too pretty."

For both Charles and Margaret, appearances had become the trivialest of trivials.

"I feel like you'll regret that decision," Charles said, sighing softly.

"Are you talking about my face?" Margaret's finger slid down her scar.

"No," Charles said, kissing her gently. "I'm talking about your decision to choose me today."

"No," Margaret's eyes became firm. "I won't regret it, my love."

"I'm not sure if you know, but I've been waiting a long, long time for this day, so even if it's just for today…" Margaret trailed off. She flipped over and pounced on Charles. The next moment, the room was plunged into darkness once again.

The next morning, the Navy troops on Sottom were so anxious that they were getting ready to invade the island to save their governor. Fortunately, before they could do anything drastic, their governor walked out of the island.

Margaret stepped lightly on the sea surface and walked her way back to Sottom with a sweet smile of delight tugging at her face.

Meanwhile, her subordinates were like ants on a hot pan; they surrounded her with anxious looks, asking why she had stayed a full day on the strange island.

However, Margaret said nothing and merely ordered them to set sail. Following her orders, the massive ship-cum-island rotated slowly, and it started heading toward its intended destination.

Standing in the tallest building on Sottom, Margaret stared at the disappearing island in the distance with a smile. Moments later, tears slid down her face and landed noiselessly on the ground.

"Goodbye, Mr. Charles."

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