Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

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Chapter 84

The Duke and the rabbit-headed shopkeeper didn’t share the specific details of their conversation with everyone, but only the main central idea: Lestrop is a madman filled with unrealistic fantasies, not only wanting to overthrow the current Mokwen royal family but also delusionally aiming to control the continent through a cult.

Almost everyone found the so-called Holy Grail legend unbelievable. They believed in an omnipotent god but didn’t believe someone could create one.

And regardless of the means used to overthrow a regime, war and bloodshed were inevitable. Constantine had unified Pennigra several hundred years ago, only after enduring long years of war and sacrifices to achieve today’s stability. Even merely reading about that period in history books invariably evoked sighs about the past.

And Doran—a weak empire—had long struggled to control the continent, with several powerful nations watching eagerly, just waiting for the moment to collectively strike. This was probably also why the royal family, represented by Mokwen, sought to harness the power of the Holy Grail.

But even if the Holy Grail they believed in truly possessed the power to rule continents, those currently in power would certainly not sit idly by. Once war spread, there would be no sanctuary left in the world.

“I used to think that the decline of the Black Gold families in Pennigra was due to the increasingly stringent imperial decrees… but it seems we were the ones who were deceived,” the Duke said coldly. “They haven’t headed towards gradual extinction but instead have collectively shifted their focus to Doran.”

Doran had always been a haven for the disorderly, with even the numbers of witches and unregistered mages surpassing those in Pennigra, not to mention the Black Gold Families, which straddled the gray areas of legality.

Long before the Duke was born, the major families were relatively dispersed.

The Foxes rose in the eastern parts of Pennigra, their influence spreading the widest. It’s said that their traces could be found not only on the continents isolated for nearly two centuries by the poisonous miasma but also in the main maritime routes, islands, and the mysterious Far East. The Lions were entrenched deep in the mountains at the border of Pennigra and Doran. Apart from roaming mercenary groups, most of their well-known senior members kept a low profile and were hard to find. Only the Wolf and Monkey families had always been co-dependent in Doran’s lawless White Bridge yet constantly undercut each other—compared to the omnipresent Foxes and Lions that always accompanied chaos and riots, they were more like two alluring carnivorous plants that entice crowds and wealth to gather around them.

It was supposed to be like this.

Years of peace and complacency had led the Constantine Empire to loosen its vigilance. If not for Dwight personally infiltrating Doran, he probably wouldn’t have realized so vividly that the focus of these families had long shifted.

“I’m afraid the Fox family probably knew about it long ago,” the rabbit-headed shopkeeper added. “As early as when I was in Syriacochi, Yitzfa was vague about Tifa’s illogical affairs, and now he has personally appeared near Thorn Manor. I’m willing to believe that in the matter of the Holy Grail, the Foxes know the most or have gone the furthest.”

“Shivers will keep an eye on Yitzfa, but it’s very likely that he’s just a front for the Foxes,” the Duke said, eyes downcast, staring at a gold-rimmed porcelain dinner plate on the table as if admiring the pattern on it. “Cici once mentioned offhandedly that there’s another Fox in Doran.”

Eugene: “??? Is there?”

He only remembered that Cici taught him and Columbus two folk songs with somewhat improper lyrics, which Shivers, who overheard, banned from being hummed.

The rabbit-headed shopkeeper suddenly realized and said, “His sister, Anna.”

Cici had said because of an ancient family contract, he couldn’t participate in serious matters, so he couldn’t appear before ‘Anna’—by this deduction, the Fox family’s main base is in Pennigra, yet important members deal with matters far in Doran, thus Cici couldn’t step into Doran.

The representative of the next generation of the family’s active force being ordered to stay in Pennigra suggested that whatever they were handling in Doran was likely quite dangerous.

But since entering Doran, whether through direct contact or indirect inquiries, the representative of the Foxes had always been Yitzfa, while “Anna”, mentioned more than once by Cici, hadn’t been seen.

The Duke and the rabbit-headed shopkeeper both had remarkable memories, and due to certain reasons, they had listened attentively to every word said by the young Cici they briefly encountered a few months ago.

When the naïve Columbus and Eugene, not wanting to part with their new friend, presumptuously invited him to join them on the road, Cici had accidentally mentioned his strict and competent sister ‘Anna’ and, compared to his promiscuous brother (most possibly Yitzfa), Cici was more cautious about Anna, indicating that Anna’s person or her tasks in Doran had a higher level of secrecy.

Now, it seemed that behind the carefree wandering Yitzfa, there might be another family member with higher authority.

“Hasting, write to Shivers. Tell him Lestrop is on his way to that manor, and also try to find out as much as possible about Anna—” he paused, then dismissed the idea. “No, Yitzfa isn’t the fool Cici is. Rash probing would immediately send the fox back into its den.”

The Duke had a bit of a headache.

Erica had two knights, but Priscilla insisted on going to White Bridge, and Rabbit Head needed to go there to rescue the astrologer, while Shivers alone at the manor had limited power—having their forces scattered outside their own sphere of influence was quite dangerous, but reality was that they were needed everywhere, and for the first time in his life, the Duke of Brandenburg felt stretched thin.

“Espionage isn’t about brawling. It’s not the more, the better, and indeed, grown Foxes are as cunning as foxes. If you’re not careful enough, you’ll easily scare them off.” The rabbit-headed shopkeeper thought for a moment. “Miss Priscilla has the Earl’s guards, so basic safety is guaranteed, and if reinforcement is needed, Miss Erica is quite suitable.”

He spoke somewhat implicitly. In fact, if just for safety, Priscilla with the Earl’s convoy entering White Bridge wouldn’t encounter any danger. Even if she was attacked in Lababata territory, it was the guards that enabled her escape.

The Countess being frightened was more of a pretext, used to give Tifa time to notice Lestrop’s secret return.

At the same time, once the brothers turn against each other, Priscilla staying in the country would actually be dangerous. At this time, staying in White Bridge, where royal authority couldn’t be exercised, she and her child would be safer.

Lestrop had this consideration. Priscilla was going with the flow, playing the role of a wise wife worried for her husband, pretending to be ignorant of the rising smoke of war within the country.

Not to mention, the siblings’ destination was the same. The distance between the two groups would naturally be kept within a range where they could assist each other at any time. The reinforcement the rabbit-headed shopkeeper mentioned was mainly targeted at Priscilla’s ambitious plans.

Erica was trustworthy, cautious, and decisive—there was no better candidate.

The Duke nodded but still didn’t look at the rabbit-headed shopkeeper.

Everyone had to pretend not to notice the odd behavior of the two, who persisted in not looking at each other while continuously talking.

“Erica and the Brandenburg Knights accompanying her will join Priscilla in the Earl’s convoy,” the Duke said. “Eugene will go to support Shivers, but he shouldn’t show himself just yet.”

Eugene perked up.

The Duke’s arrangement actually followed a pattern. Whether it was because of being washed away in the river or at Syriacochi, Eugene’s coordination with Shivers had been quite good.

Admittedly, Eugene couldn’t yet mingle effortlessly in the perfumed high society like Shivers, but he could blend into various middle- and lower-class settings like a shadow, finding the most suitable path in the shortest time among all walks of life.

With him in support, should Shivers’ actions fail, and his identity be exposed, Eugene would be the best person to help him hide and escape.

The former thief, who once competed with livestock for straw bedding, never imagined he could stand on his own—he didn’t even consider traversing the kingdom alone through unfamiliar cities a particularly difficult task.

A year ago, he couldn’t have imagined daring to accept such a mission. This newfound confidence felt both foreign and exhilarating, making him itch to mount a horse and leave the city immediately!

However, it was Charlie who held back the enthusiastic Eugene. Leaving the city overnight wasn’t out of the question, but proper preparations were essential.

The Duke was always generous, giving him a map, enough travel money, and a sturdy mule (not that he was reluctant to give a horse, but a lone traveler on a fine horse could easily become a target for thieves and bandits). Shiloh gave him a sharp short sword as long as a forearm, neatly encased in a fine leather sheath, which sat securely at his waist.

Hasting gave him a pouch of tobacco to ease the journey, and even Hall gave him a waterproof fire kit.

Finally, Charlie gave him a small bag containing several gadgets that didn’t require magic to use but were handy for escaping: a few round fireworks-like items that could emit an intensely irritating thick smoke when ignited and a small bottle of invisibility potion, which didn’t truly conceal one’s form but could erase the scent of being “alive” and suppress external body heat, effectively making one seem no more than a rock or plant, which was highly effective against biological and magical tracking.

“Don’t use these items in front of mages,” the rabbit-headed shopkeeper advised him.

“Why?” Eugene asked curiously.

“Because these items are essentially magical creations,” the rabbit-headed shopkeeper explained gently. “Though they don’t restrict the user, the style of the formulas used in their creation is traceable. If a mage has any overlap with the creator, they can easily identify the maker’s identity… Did I forget to tell you that I have a rival on the Doran continent?”

Eugene had almost forgotten about Witch Elena.

“Elena was expelled by the Mage Association, but I believe she still has contacts with white mage. After all, she wasn’t born a witch. I’m not sure if her hatred for me outweighs her rationality after all these years, but it’s always better to be cautious. If she finds out you’re using my items, she might redirect her anger towards you.”

“Oh, that would actually be convenient,” Eugene said, patting the short sword at his waist, speaking gruffly. “If she comes looking for me, it saves me the trouble of finding her—what she did to my friend has already filled me with rage. Given the chance, I’ll make sure she regrets it.”

Without a second thought, the rabbit-headed shopkeeper slapped him on the head. “Don’t do anything stupid. Elena, when riled up, could take on half a mercenary troop on her own.”

He couldn’t help but laugh then, his round eyes crinkling. “The trouble between her and me will have to be resolved sooner or later. If I can’t beat her, I’ll ask friends to help at that time.”

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