Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

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Chapter 13

To be honest, Dwight himself was quite surprised that Elena’s magic pot was so sought-after.

Eugene and those thieves from the Stonewall Inn were inexperienced. Treasuring a broken pot as if it were precious was one thing, but that a random suspicious woman they met on the road also stole the pot was something he found contemptible.

Magic had its limits. Who knows how long the magic on that pot would last. Maybe in a couple of days, it would be no different from an ordinary ceramic pot—let’s say the magic didn’t fade. It would be just a pot that could pour an endless amount of wine, not gold. Why would it be worth fighting over?

The wealthy Duke, owning three large vineyards, couldn’t understand, so he just watched as the blonde girl sneaked away with the magic pot, completely unbothered to intervene.

“Even if she’s a thief, I’m going after her.” Charlie didn’t stop what he was doing, and he didn’t ask the Duke to accompany him. The donkey, who was forced to work overtime in the middle of the night, still followed him out of the stable.

“Is it really necessary?” Dwight frowned.

Charlie mounted the donkey, his large, round rabbit eyes looking gently at the Duke.

“You might not believe it, but my life hasn’t been easy for a single second. Although it’s mostly been tough, it’s still taught me many important things, one of which is to respect all life.”

“Not everyone deserves respect,” the young Duke said. “She might have accomplices waiting outside the village. If you chase after her alone, you might be the one who ends up in the wolf’s den.”

Although they hadn’t known each other long, Dwight saw many qualities in Charlie that he didn’t think a person who could run a mysterious little shop in Maplewood alone and had many intriguing background stories would be so reckless and sanctimoniously generous.

Charlie seemed to see what he was thinking.

“Since I have ways to keep you from the wolves, I also have ways to avoid them. I won’t just rush into the woods alone, but at least—”

At least make sure that pretty thief doesn’t stupidly run into a pack of wolves.

Five minutes later, the scowling Duke and Araceae joined Charlie on the stone path.

‘I won’t intervene. It’s just making sure this brainless rabbit doesn’t get torn apart by wolves for some inexplicable thief’s sake. I haven’t even reached the Doran continent yet and still need this rabbit,’ the Duke told himself.

What actually bothered him more was that Charlie seemed to have anticipated that he would come along.

“What if her stupidity gets us all killed?” Dwight grumbled all the way, unhappy about being dragged into this.

“If we encounter a situation beyond our ability, the first choice is, of course, to flee.” Charlie said, “I’m no knight. I don’t have such chivalry—if I have to choose between her and me, I’d rather stay alive myself.”

That sounded reasonable.

But the Duke still wasn’t pleased with his saintly actions and was about to critique further when Araceae slowed down.

By then, they had reached the outskirts of the village. Rabbit ears were apparently more sensitive than human ears, and Charlie also stopped, tilting his head slightly, puzzled. “What’s that sound ahead?”

Popomia was a semi-circular village surrounded by mountains, with forests both on the mountain and the plains, so most villagers’ houses had solid stone walls to defend against wild animals. They had seen some defensive barriers on the outskirts during the day, and now they finally understood why the villagers had expanded their defensive perimeter so much.

In the silent night, the howling of hungry wolves carried especially far.

“Wolves. The same pack from the day?” Dwight squinted, trying to spot the gleaming green eyes in the pitch darkness.

“Not necessarily.” Charlie’s donkey was also frightened, and he had to calm it down. “It looks like we won’t need to go too far. No sensible person would head towards the woods at this hour.”

“They wouldn’t head up the mountain either. If I were her…” Dwight paused significantly, “I’d find a nearby hiding spot to conceal myself until the early morning when the wolves disperse and ‘we’ haven’t woken up yet, then quickly make an escape.”

But the problem was that the area of Popomia Village wasn’t small. Forget streetlights, they hadn’t seen a single wind-shielded lamp under an eave all the way there, relying entirely on Araceae’s excellent sense of direction and experience to walk so smoothly. Otherwise, it would be easy to stumble and fall.

On such a starless night, a slender girl could simply hide in any family’s haystack, and even ten people would find it hard to locate her.

“Ah, that’s no problem.” Charlie said, “As long as we’re close enough, it will be easy to find her.”

Dwight turned his head, watching him pull out a piece of paper from his coat pocket.

“I found a strand of golden hair on the blanket just now.” Charlie said proudly, “You didn’t think I came unprepared, did you?”

“Sorry, I don’t understand.” The Duke posed a polite and courteous inquiry, “What can we do with a single strand of hair?”

He emphasized the word ‘single’. Duke Dwight went hunting in the countryside every autumn. He knew well that even the best-bred hounds could hardly track by a single strand of hair, let alone when they only had a rabbit, not a hound.

And from what he observed, apart from looking like a rabbit, Charlie didn’t seem to have any non-human talents, such as being able to live on grass alone.

Charlie ignored his comment, and skillfully folded a small, cute pinwheel from that paper and a small twig, wrapping the strand of golden hair around the pinwheel’s handle.

“Look.” He presented it like a treasure.

“I’m past the age of needing toys, sir.” The Duke wasn’t ready to be supportive.

“It’s a seeker pinwheel.” Charlie patiently explained, “I’m a top graduate from Monterey Academy, and this title wasn’t won by being voted most popular male student for three consecutive years.”

Dwight was no stranger to tracing magic, but the proper operation of such magic was supposed to be “using a compass, sand, or clear water as a medium, with the accuracy and effective duration directly influenced by the operator’s magical depth”. This came from “Origins and Basic Principles of Magic, Volume One” (by Hershey Gruskinsky)—indeed, although he had no intention to study magic, Duke Dwight was educated intensively from childhood and could be considered well-read in all aspects. Thus, he had a solid theoretical foundation.

He was certain that even in derivative magic, there was no use of pinwheels to perform operations.

Charlie seemed oblivious to the Duke’s disdain for his unconventional magic, cheerfully attaching the pinwheel to the harness of the large donkey below him. In the absence of wind, the little pinwheel began to rotate slowly.

“This kind of magic can’t last very long.” This time, Charlie took the lead. “As long as the direction is correct, the pinwheel won’t stop spinning, so we just need to adjust according to the pinwheel… Ouch.”

He rubbed his head and glared at the Duke. The latter was tossing a small pinecone up and down. Clearly, this was the object that had just hit him.

“If you know magic, why not find a way to break the curse?” Dwight asked.

People who had never studied magic treated it almost like a miracle; they could neither understand nor perform it, nor could they defend against it. Only those who had systematically studied it could understand its mechanisms.

However, most ordinary people also didn’t have the opportunity to learn, and even literate individuals were rare—cultural heritage was always in the hands of the privileged.

“The curse on Columbus is very complex, and it’s been a long time that the residual traces have almost been worn away.” The shopkeeper glared at him. “To unravel a magic formula, you need to meet at least several basic known conditions, and with just a little clue from Columbus, it’s difficult to deduce the rest. And Elena, who has inherited this kind of power, could quickly undo the curse if she wanted to.”

“What about your own?” Dwight asked slowly. “I remember your head is Elena’s masterpiece. Strictly speaking, aren’t you her senior?”

The implication was that Charlie couldn’t break Elena’s curse = was overtaken by a junior = was embarrassingly outmatched.

Charlie paused for a moment before reluctantly saying, “I’ve never been good at arithmetic.”

“I thought ‘excellence’ included ‘in all subjects’.”

“It does! When I say not so good, I mean at least above the standard line. Actually, my other…”

“So Elena at least far exceeded the standard line, right? Including practical operations?”

The shopkeeper was a bit angry, feeling this kid was very unreasonable and unwilling to give face.

Fortunately, at this moment, his little pinwheel started to spin faster, understandingly. To avoid startling their target with the noise of hooves, both men dismounted and walked forward quietly in the dark.

They passed through a wheat field with some uncut remnants of snow on the ground, making the walk a bit strenuous. At the end of the field, down a small slope, was a low barn that, if viewed from afar, only showed a shallow straw roof and was easily overlooked.

The barn seemed long unmaintained, some of its planks were askew, and through the gaps, one could see some farm tools and a white horse.

But there was no one inside.

“I told you. Her horse and cloak are as conspicuous as streetlamps at night. She would definitely hide.” Dwight scoffed.

“Shh.” Charlie nudged him, signaling for him to listen quietly.

From a nearby bush came the rustling sound of someone moving. They didn’t light their lamps but followed the noise as silently as possible.

The footsteps soon stopped, followed by the sound of a cloak rustling.

Dwight, whose temper was worsening from staying up late, was clearly tired of this hide-and-seek game. He stepped forward hastily, and before Charlie could stop him, he struck a flint and lit the lantern in his hand—

Long golden curls gracefully fell down her back. The previously crimson cloak was apparently worn reversed, now black velvet blending with the night. The owner of the cloak, startled by Dwight’s movements, turned around, her large blue eyes dazzled by the lantern light, forcing her to close them.

And her hand, holding her privates, even forgot to withdraw it.

As a nobleman who prided himself on a remarkably clean private life, Dwight was shocked by the bizarre scene before him and involuntarily took a step back.

Behind him, Charlie stepped forward, peering over the Duke’s shoulder to assess the situation.

“It seems we’re being a bit rude.” The rabbit-headed shopkeeper commented subtly. “Got frightened back.”

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The author has something to say:

Little Red Riding Hood was peeing standing up.

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