Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 45

“So, they were chased so desperately, not just because they eloped?”

The little tin soldier, riding on the back of an old goat, interjected, “No! Because they stumbled upon an even more sinister secret!”

He then became worried. “Emily is strong, but Tom really cries a lot. Are they okay? They will be okay, right?”

“I gave them enough money to leave the country,” said the boy with a baby face, grumbling. “Thinking about it now, it was kind of impulsive… Do you really have a way to find your boss?”

Columbus looked at him. “No. So you should go.”

“Hey! I helped you guys get rid of that group of farmers, and even contributed a lot of money—” the boy shouted. “Otherwise, just with you, a few sheep, and dogs, could you have beaten those people?”

Columbus immediately fell silent.

“Anyway, you owe me money.” The boy poked the little tin soldier’s head with his finger. “Don’t think of ditching me before you pay me. By the way, what is this evil secret you mentioned?”

At this, Columbus became animated. “That manor—where Emily escaped from—its owner is dabbling in black magic!”

The boy: “……”

“Pfft,” he scoffed. “I thought it was something earth-shattering. What’s so strange about black magic?”

Black magic was strictly forbidden on any continent in a broad sense, but it also varied by degree. Using items like black cats, crows, and the souls of the dead was black magic, as was using dead bodies, blood sacrifices, or even names to communicate with hidden beings. But even witches, who were shunned by most, rarely dared to openly declare their study of the latter.

The difference was, the former was merely ominous, while the latter was purely evil. Either way, both were officially banned, especially in nations protected by the church, where people of status, even nobles, weren’t allowed to engage in or even discuss the dark arts.

That said, thoughts were always the hardest thing to control and scrutinize, so people had secretly used black magic to fulfill their desires since ancient times, including some from the nobility, despite all prohibitions.

The owner of Thorn Manor, although not a noble, owned land and property, and was considered wealthy in the kingdom without other assets.

It wasn’t surprising that such people turn to black magic. When wealth accumulated to a certain level, they instinctively sought a change in class and status, something that couldn’t be achieved by effort alone in conservative and closed countries. Even if one could rise from the bottom to immense wealth, it would be difficult to gain even the title of Baron.

Marrying into a declining noble family was one way, but even if successful, it brought empty prestige, hardly accepted by the mainstream nobility—like buying loneliness. Even the lowest servants would feel that purchased titles were fundamentally different from inherent nobility.

These desires, hard to fulfill by normal means, could potentially be met through the evil of black magic, which excelled in seduction. If one could hypnotize those in power, not only titles but also status and wealth, and in the future, any wants could be effortlessly gained. In fact, every century had rumors of a family rising improperly. These rumors attracted all sorts of people, like moths to a flame, all desperately striving for more.

“That kind of black magic is particularly evil,” Columbus said in a low voice. “Emily said, there are many terrible rumors about Thorn Manor, half of which are true.”

Especially in recent years, more and more people had disappeared from the mansion, but oddly, there was always a new supply of young and healthy girls. This horrific cycle, though not openly discussed, always left traces that couldn’t be completely hidden.

Because of this, the mansion rarely recruited girls from the estate, as these were serfs who had served the master’s family for generations. Though they had no right to refuse or resist, the gaps they left weren’t easily filled, so almost all who disappeared were “outsiders.”

A few capable people from the estate were assigned to work around the manor and would hint to their families not to discuss or pry into matters occurring there.

Emily was also of serf origin, but for some reason, was promoted to work inside the manor this year.

Her brother disapproved, but her father, hoping against hope, believed that girls from the manor were different from “outsiders”, thinking Emily was just there to work and might not encounter anything bad—after all, they had no room to refuse.

Emily, a determined girl, knew she couldn’t change her fate but also refused to sit idly by.

The people at the manor probably didn’t expect someone who came from the estate like Emily to think this way, and indeed, she secretly discovered the fact that the manor’s master and his wife were using young girls for some evil ritual. However, her actions raised suspicions, and the decisive girl, before the master could take measures against her, eloped with her fiancé, who had gathered the courage to come for her—both having grown up in the estate, they stumbled upon Columbus hanging in the middle of a tree stump during their chaotic escape and encountered the orchard incident, almost running into a dead end but unexpectedly meeting the real fruit thief with a baby face.

The baby-faced, but shrewd thief, thinking the farmer was after him, knocked out a bunch unwittingly, and they managed to escape, later realizing he was the one accidentally involved.

But since he had already beaten them and was impressed by Emily and Tom’s courageous spirit for love, he generously provided travel funds for the young lovers (charging it to Columbus’ account).

“Using young girls for magical rituals, is this a pursuit of eternal life or youth?” The baby-faced boy pondered, stroking his chin. “Some lunatics believe that the blood of young girls is the key to reversing aging. Is that manor owner very old? That said, where do they find so many girls to harm? It’s just a private manor, not a lawless zone, so many free citizens disappearing should raise suspicions.”

Columbus said, “Emily said those girls entered the manor under the guise of employment.” But given the scale of Thorn Manor, it wouldn’t need so many young female servants annually. This one-way pattern was highly unusual. Even the serfs tied to the estate could easily spot the anomaly.

The baby-faced boy’s expression became serious. “If that’s the case, then it’s very likely the lord of the manor has ties to human traffickers. For manor serfs like Emily, they can kill many without being convicted, but it’s entirely different with free citizens. They’d rather risk this to lure girls from outside, indicating the girls from the manor are far from meeting their anticipated consumption.” The baby-faced boy thought for a moment. “It’s theoretically possible to buy new female slaves from outside, but the costs of employment contracts and outright slave purchase are worlds apart. Regardless of the reasons, this behavior only shows one thing: they need a lot of girls. But what kind of channel could continuously ‘supply’ this manor?”

“I asked Emily. Charlie has never been to Thorn Manor.” Columbus hadn’t thought so deeply. The little tin soldier dispiritedly said, “Charlie is the smartest person in the world. He would definitely figure out what’s going on.”

“Your boss’ name is Charlie? That’s a pretty common name.”

“How nice is your name?” Columbus retorted unhappily.

The baby-faced boy puffed out his chest. “I’m called Shiloh. In my homeland… it means ‘gem’!”

“Weird name.” The little tin soldier turned away.

“It’s the name my master gave me. What’s weird about it? Columbus is a weird name, if you ask me. Your boss must be odd to give you such a name!” The baby-faced boy was also displeased.

“Don’t you say bad things about Charlie!” Columbus got angry. “He has a great personality! He’s the most popular person in town!”

“Come on, my master is the best person in the world! The best looking! The strongest swordsman! The smartest brain!”

“Charlie is the best! The best looking! Knows a lot of magic! Defeated many big bad guys! Has read a lot of books! There’s nothing he can’t handle!”

The two bickered like roosters for a while, then suddenly both became depressed.

“My master hates traveling and the outdoors. This kind of backwater lacks everything—there are no maids or servants following us. He must be so uncomfortable.” Shiloh’s usually buoyant, curly hair drooped down, mirroring his master’s dispirited expression.

“Charlie didn’t have to travel this far. It’s all because of me that he took the risk… It’s so hard,” Columbus said softly. “Haa, and now he’s lost. I don’t know when we’ll find him.”

“This godforsaken place is too poor,” Shiloh said dissatisfiedly, swatting away a branch blocking the path. “We’ve walked so long and haven’t found a decent town. If it weren’t for the lack of people, I wouldn’t have been hungry enough to pick fruit to eat, which wasn’t even ripe, and got into a ridiculous fight, and now I’m even hungrier. Tin men are better off. They don’t need to eat.”

Columbus immediately countered, “I am a tin soldier! Not a tin man! Although I don’t need to eat, I still need maintenance. If I don’t get oiled soon, I won’t even be able to turn my neck.”

The old goat he was riding bleated in agreement.

Under the curse’s effect, Columbus’s mobility was increasingly stiff, requiring frequent oiling of his joints by the rabbit-headed shopkeeper. Since being washed into the river, his condition had worsened, necessitating the help of the old goat for prolonged movement.

“I hope Charlie is okay. My oil better not have been washed away by the river,” Columbus fretted. “I have a feeling I’m not far from my homeland, and if I find Balda, I can’t meet my little sister looking like this.” He had to be repainted and polished, shiny and bright, for the meeting—his memories were often blurred, and he couldn’t even remember Balda’s age anymore.

Charlie always said time changes people beyond recognition, but Columbus knew, whether Balda had grown into a diligent housewife or turned into a white-haired grandmother, he would recognize his sister at first glance. Ah, after so many years, she probably had married and had children by now. He wondered if her children would be happy to see him…

Shiloh sighed maturely. “It doesn’t matter to me. I just hope my master is doing well. Alas, with his noble status, he’s not meant to be sleeping outdoors. Maybe he doesn’t even have a place to stay or food, traveling in hunger and cold…” The more he spoke, the more horrified he felt, making his teeth begin to chatter.

Dwight looked out the window, where the last bit of the sunset’s afterglow barely clung to the sky. This city on the southwest side of the Mokwen Kingdom was indeed bustling, but it still couldn’t compare to the capital. Even the prevalence of streetlamps was far less than in Syriacochi, and the lights were turned on later. Right now, the outside was dimly lit, making the indoors seem all the warmer and brighter.

The rabbit-headed shopkeeper carefully examined two differently colored handmade soaps, then, catching the Duke’s thoughtful gaze, he coughed. “Are you satisfied with this incense?”

Dwight withdrew his gaze, glanced around at the changes of incense, the smooth bathtub, the just-right water temperature, a cup of the finest apple wine the inn could offer, and—

“It’s fine.” He suppressed the sudden strange feeling that had welled up inside him, leaned back comfortably, and said nonchalantly, “You can start.”

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