With Jory Fell and his noble entourage lodged in the Violet Golden Flower Church, the garden stayed bright well past midnight.
Every gaslamp burned. Where lamplight didn’t reach, torches did. The church looked less like a sanctuary and more like a camp.
Ethan finished dinner alone and returned to his room.
Combined across his lives, he’d lived more than fifty years. At that age, social games stopped looking like threats and started looking like noise.
He latched the window, checked the door, and reached for the Diviner’s Letter Opener.
If Susan had sent that poison, he needed to know what she was planning next.
A knock interrupted him.
Ralph’s voice came through the wood. “Rhine? Bishop Frey wants to see you. Now.”
Ethan opened the door.
Ralph’s face was pinched, worry carving lines that hadn’t been there a week ago. “I don’t know what you did to offend Jory Fell,” he said quickly, “but I’m on your side. The bishop is too.”
He swallowed, then added in a lower voice, “The knights moved in. The bishop’s worried about your position. He… has an idea. Come hear him out.”
Ethan studied Ralph for a beat, then nodded.
Whatever Frey was, he wasn’t a fool. And he wasn’t cruel. Ethan trusted that much.
In the bishop’s office, Frey didn’t waste time.
“Rhine,” he said, using the name the city knew, “I understand the choice you made.”
Ethan stayed silent, letting the man talk.
“You have your own road,” Frey continued. “And compared to this church, Earth Ring can take you further.”
So it was about that.
Frey’s mouth tightened. “Jory is talented. And with his status…” He breathed out slowly. “But you’re a good boy. I don’t want to see you clash.”
He leaned forward, voice dropping. “He has already shown you his hostility. That means his knights will try to make your life difficult. That is how nobles operate. They don’t strike first with swords. They strike with rumors, rules, and ‘accidents.’”
Frey paused, watching Ethan’s face for fear, anger, panic.
Ethan gave him none.
It was almost comical—being threatened by a local lord when Ethan’s real enemy wore demonic flesh.
Frey removed his half‑moon spectacles and rubbed the bridge of his nose, surprised—and, oddly, relieved.
Most young men would’ve been shaken. Ethan looked like he was listening to weather reports.
Which told Frey something important.
Ethan didn’t fear Windrest Keep.
And that meant Ethan’s plans weren’t confined to this island.
Frey nodded to himself, accepting what he’d already suspected: this “Rhine” would never remain a simple church priest. Not on Storm Island. Not in Windrest City. Earth Ring was a doorway to larger halls—the king’s halls. Politics on a scale that made Jory Fell’s posturing feel like a child throwing stones at the sea.
It made Frey proud.
It also made him sad.
The bishop reached into a drawer and pulled out a sealed letter.
“Take this.”
Ethan accepted it, eyes narrowing.
“It’s my formal approval,” Frey said. “Official paperwork. I am seconding you to White Maple Manor to assist Earth Ring.”
Understanding snapped into place.
This was Frey giving him a shield made of ink.
A document that said: Rhine is not under your thumb right now.
“In the back,” Frey added, “a carriage is waiting. Earth Ring’s carriage. I’ve spoken with Red Falcon. You’ll stay at White Maple Manor for a while. Earth Ring does not answer to Windrest Keep, so the nobles cannot order you around.”
He set a hand on Ethan’s shoulder—warm, steady.
“Go before their malice turns into something truly ugly. I’ve lived nearly seventy years. I’ve seen too many talented youths ruined because they stood in the wrong place at the wrong time. I don’t want you to become one of them.”
For a moment, Frey’s eyes went distant, as if he was remembering names he didn’t speak aloud.
The emotion faded, leaving only tired sincerity.
Ethan’s throat tightened.
He had words—real ones, the kind you didn’t throw around lightly. But all he managed was, “Thank you.”
Frey squeezed his shoulder once, then let him go.
Night had deepened. Stars hung over the city like cold pinholes in velvet.
Ethan didn’t have much to pack. His life fit in a bag.
He climbed into the carriage and rode out toward White Maple Manor.
Red Falcon was waiting at the gate when he arrived.
Where Frey had been weary, Red Falcon looked downright cheerful. He stepped in close and hugged Ethan with the casual familiarity of a soldier welcoming another back to the line.
“I heard what happened at the church,” he said, steering Ethan inside with a hand on his shoulder. “Ignore Jory. He’s talented, sure. Tier 1, Third Seat at eighteen—that’s not common. But the Endless Sea is vast. He’s not the king’s shadow. He’s just a local storm.”
Ethan nodded, even though he’d never truly cared.
White Maple Manor had already prepared a room for him. He dropped his bag, then pulled Red Falcon aside.
“There’s something else.” He drew out the small bottle. “This almost killed Ethan’s former landlord.”
He didn’t mention how he’d recognized the poison. Only that he’d suspected, tested it, and confirmed it.
Red Falcon’s expression hardened. He held the bottle like a live insect.
“Evil,” he said quietly. “It rots flesh fast. And there’s… filth in it.”
Holy power, sensing what Ethan couldn’t fully name.
“But we’ll run proper checks,” Red Falcon added, passing it to a staffer.
His face tightened further.
“These can wait. Something bigger happened at sea.”
Ethan’s pulse quickened. “What?”
Red Falcon spoke carefully, as if he didn’t want the words to become real.
“Days ago, two Infiltrator pirates slaughtered almost an entire ship. Our people fought them, captured them—then a guard lapse let them break out.”
Ethan’s mind flashed, sharp and cold.
Two Infiltrators.
Red Falcon continued. “We searched the sea. Couldn’t find them. Then this week—merchant ships started dying.”
He opened a folder, flipped through notes. “The same signature. Ships found adrift. Crew butchered. No survivors. And on the decks…”
He looked up.
“Demonic taint.”
Ethan’s stomach sank.
He knew those two Infiltrators.
He had killed them.
He’d watched Thea burn the bodies until there was nothing left to identify, nothing left to bury.
Earth Ring didn’t know. Because there was nothing left for them to find.
Which meant, to everyone else, the Infiltrators were still out there.
Still hunting.
Still breathing.
Ethan forced his face to stay calm, but inside, alarm bells started screaming.
If the dead could come back—
Susan’s corpse in the basement meant nothing.
And the Endless Sea had just gotten a lot more dangerous.