Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

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Chapter 65

“Even if Miss Priscilla is indeed pregnant, it doesn’t prove that she was involved in that experiment,” Charlie said, not having read the letter, but he could tell from the Duke’s expression that their unpleasant suspicion was likely confirmed.

The Knight Commander glanced at the rabbit-headed shopkeeper sitting in the chair, holding his doubts for the moment, and remained silent.

After reading the letter, Dwight habitually raised his hand to pass the paper to Shivers for destruction, which was the routine.

But midway, he seemed to think of something, his wrist turning abruptly to hand the letter to Charlie instead—as if he was making a special effort to hand it over personally. The Duke pursed his lips. It wasn’t intentional, but retracting his hand now would undoubtedly be even more improper.

Fortunately, during this time, the shopkeeper had developed a certain rapport with him and didn’t let the Duke’s hand hover in the air for too long, taking the letter and reading it quickly.

They had anticipated Priscilla’s part, but Dr. Salman’s experience was very informative.

Erica’s description in the letter was quite detailed, so Charlie could deduce a lot from it.

“The ‘Holy Grail’ project started ten years ago—or maybe even earlier. Mistress Daisy’s predecessor was very likely the initiator, or one of them.”

They believed the Holy Grail was to be birthed by a human female but didn’t know what specific conditions needed to be met; hence, they conducted many different experiments, all of which failed.

“Mistress Daisy never mentioned the presence of the Lamp Bearers, indicating that the experiments at that time weren’t as advanced as they are now at Thorn Manor,” Charlie handed the letter back to Shivers as he said thoughtfully.

“Blue blood. Is that unique to the ‘Holy Grail’?” The Duke’s fingers tapped unconsciously on the smooth wooden armrest. “I’ve never read in any texts about a creature with blue blood. Mermaids have pink blood, elves have green, angels have golden… even the abyssal creatures from centuries ago are described as ‘beings without blood and soul’.”

“The letter mentions that the newborn’s blood turned red within an hour,” Charlie reminded him. “Perhaps this suggests that the blue blood was abnormal.”

“So their experiment failed,” the Duke stated unequivocally. “But perhaps the blue blood is a condition to summon, no, to attract the Lamp Bearers. I don’t think the Lamp Bearers have self-awareness or souls. They are more likely entirely derivative beings of the Holy Grail, a tangible product of the mission like ‘seeking the Holy Grail’. Strictly speaking, they have no master… How could such beings respond to human summons?”

No, they have a master.

The shopkeeper didn’t voice this thought.

The situation had completely exceeded his expectations, and he harbored doubts about it.

He could foresee that if one day the Duke unearthed all the secrets, he would certainly be furious over his omissions… but on the positive side, the best outcome would merely be burying the secrets again for a few hundred more years, decaying completely underground.

But could he manage that?

Though he didn’t know where the woman in the castle’s study got her ideas, the seed of desire was undoubtedly sown, and her death couldn’t wither those sinister weeds. The many innocent women they had seen die after entering Doran were proof of this.

Farmers worrying about a half measure of wheat didn’t have the capacity to dream of ruling the world. Only those with some power or wealth could see through the vanity behind the Holy Grail. They might be enemies of each other, but their common goal was the same.

In the face of such a massive conglomerate of power, anyone was insignificant.

The rabbit-headed shopkeeper suddenly felt an unprecedented exhaustion.

He took a deep breath, feeling like he didn’t even have the strength to maintain his composure anymore.

Dwight glanced at him.

Crossing continents without regard for himself and the witch’s disputes for the sake of the little tin soldier, no one would doubt the depth of their friendship.

But precisely because of the deep emotions, his calm demeanor so far worried everyone (especially Eugene and Shivers) all the more.

Even the little tin soldier was the same. Before this, they often had conversations like “if I get thrown into the witch’s furnace” or “Elena might make me into potion ingredients. I don’t like the smell of disintegration potions”. Most would take these as their heartless jokes. Only Dwight always felt slightly uncomfortable when he heard them—but couldn’t quite say why.

And the pampered Duke of Brandenburg wasn’t used to this kind of silently disturbing discomfort, so he would react even more harshly, making everyone uncomfortable.

Only after Columbus truly left did he vaguely understand why.

Perhaps… each time they discussed their own deaths, they weren’t joking.

They were seriously discussing, seriously preparing themselves mentally, seriously saying goodbye to each other.

And the Duke’s displeasure, perhaps, was because he recognized this every time.

“I have a question.” Charlie blinked. “Is one of the selection criteria for the Brandenburg Knight Order that they must be popular with women?”

His gaze fell on Shiloh in the courtyard below. The red-haired young man stood there, blankly holding a basket filled with stacks of bread slices, cookies, and jars of jam, while the girls around him kept stuffing more things into the basket.

Eugene was also there, similarly holding a large piece of smoked fish and wrapped farmhouse cheese.

Compared to Shiloh, he was much more uncomfortable, partly because he was unaccustomed to this rare scene of being surrounded by women, and partly because they had just finished sword practice, and he was sweaty.

Before, he wouldn’t have thought this was a problem—his personal record was going an entire winter without bathing, and the boys who huddled with him in the straw of the stables were the same, even picking lice off each other.

But since being brought into the Duke’s system, any slight hygiene issue was magnified countless times in the boss’ eyes. If he dared appear in his current sweaty state, the Duke wouldn’t even need to speak. Just his look would make him feel like a walking stinking fish.

Used to strict requirements, Eugene had already developed an awareness that his body odor might offend the refined ladies (and gentlemen), feeling somewhat uneasy about wanting to distance himself from the crowd, and this subtle reaction instead earned him more smoked sausages.

Overall, though, Shiloh was more popular. A significant portion of the inn’s female staff were married women, and in their eyes, there was nothing cuter than a red-haired, round-faced, and polite young man.

Knowing that these generous guests were planning to leave, a few bold women took the initiative to send them some gifts, not as fine as the perfume and white bread prepared by the inn, but Shilo never refused food.

The Knight Commander also watched the scene. “That’s not it. Shiloh is still a child. I’ve forbidden him from dating until he’s an adult.”

The shopkeeper unexpectedly turned to look at him.

Shivers, seemingly aware of the other’s confusion, explained, “Normally, the Brandenburg Knight Order doesn’t admit minors, but Shiloh is an exception. His talent is exceptional, the likes of which haven’t been seen in the reserves in over twenty years. The unstoppable force of a heavy swordsman on the battlefield is earned through innate talent and rigorous practice. For him, enhancing his skills during his prime is the right thing to do, and even if I hadn’t imposed a ban, he would understand this himself.”

Charlie nodded.

On any continent, population was the basic unit, and even the most inept rulers wouldn’t place many restrictions on this.

Therefore, except in some countries or cities with strong religious influences, most young people had a rather liberal understanding of love. Of course, there was nothing wrong with this, but if one wished to achieve something in a professional field during the most hormonally active age, external constraints and self-discipline were essential.

“So that’s it. Seeing you and Shiloh, I thought maybe having a good-looking face was a necessary condition to join the Brandenburg Knight Order,” the shopkeeper joked.

Shivers: “……”

Selection for knights indeed prioritizes skill, but the Brandenburg Knight Order was a general term, divided into the Duke’s personal guard and the castle troops. As the name implied, the personal guards were Dwight’s bodyguards, and aside from people like Shivers who have been groomed from a young age, members of the personal guard indeed had certain aesthetic requirements because they were closer to the Duke.

However, this rule wasn’t established by Dwight himself, but was a tradition of Brandenburg.

According to a previous Duke, this had nothing to do with personal preferences but was purely for the honor and dignity of the Dwight family—just as a King’s carriage must be drawn by four pure white horses. If one couldn’t even muster a guard of handsome knights, who would believe in the family’s heritage and taste?

So, the preference for good looks at Brandenburg was ancestral.

Seeing the Knight Commander’s expression, Charlie kept this thought to himself.

“It seems I can look forward to meeting the knights who come to greet the Duke,” he said with a laugh.

This was an arrangement made by Dwight himself.

The King of Mokwen’s ambitions regarding the Holy Grail and the confirmation of Priscilla’s pregnancy required more information for further action; thus, staying hidden in Ropappas was no longer a good option—Mistress Daisy’s castle was destroyed, and with Dr. Salman, who had been privy to the secrets of Thorn Manor, having fled, anyone controlling these events wouldn’t ignore them.

Brandenburg had no intention of getting involved in matters related to the Holy Grail, but Priscilla’s connection to the kingdom of Mokwen couldn’t be ignored. Once the Dwight family’s activities in Doran were discovered, things could become significantly more complicated.

Therefore, whether to reconnect with Priscilla or to shift their base, leaving was necessary.

Initially, the old steward consented to the Duke and the Knight Commander entering Doran alone not only because they planned to recruit Eugene and Charlie, but more importantly, the steward had his daughter lead members of the personal guard into Doran in secret to protect the Dwight family head at any time.

Because of the need for discretion, Erica only brought a few knights, but political chaos had its advantages—money could buy private armed forces.

Upon entering Doran, her first action was to consolidate armed forces. After this period of integration, except for two knights needed to maintain order, the rest, like Shiloh, would gather around the Duke and lead a small group of hired mercenaries with knights as the core.

With proper deployment, their combat power would be sufficient to handle a private lord’s castle defense—this was enough, as they didn’t intend to step into the battlefield of power struggles in Doran.

By that time, their numbers would significantly increase, and the current small travel group setup would no longer be suitable.

“Erica has arranged for housing—not in Syriacochi. Currently, Mokwen’s capital is still under semi-martial law, and a large group cannot enter. In the nearest city to Syriacochi, a fast horse can get there in half a day, and another part of the mercenary troop will be on standby there.”

Mercenaries… The rabbit-headed shopkeeper reached for his pipe but didn’t take it out.

“Eugene probably won’t be happy,” Shivers said calmly, seemingly oblivious to Charlie’s silence. “The last encounter in the alley left him quite shaken. But Erica always seeks to maximize effectiveness, and the Lion family is the best choice.”

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