Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 97
Naturally, Dwight remembered Witch Elena’s name, but he didn’t understand why Charlie was running as if he had seen a ghost.
“Can’t you beat her?” The two men jogged across the street. The dew was already dried by the sun, leaving the cobblestone pavement glistening.
“She’s a tough one, but that’s not her in person.” Charlie’s coat fluttered in the wind. “She’s not here right now—but if touched by that shadow following us, it would get our scent. Then, no matter where we hide in the world, she could easily track us. Believe me, it’s not pleasant.”
Unlike the common citizens’ fear and disgust at the mention of a witch, Charlie’s attitude towards Elena leaned more towards extreme avoidance. Sensing Dwight’s intention to draw his sword and confront the situation, Charlie felt obliged to explain and stop him. Although a low-level enchanted puppet was no match for Dwight, the foreseeable endless hassles that would follow were the real trouble.
Dwight indeed intended to hack that thing into pieces. Possessing a rare talent and developing magic came at a cost. Most mages weren’t physically robust, and without their magic, even a teenage street thug could easily knock down two adult mages.
This was also why, despite the extreme terror of legends regarding witches, the folk practice of hunting witches remained prevalent. Those who dabbled in black magic were mostly eccentric, reclusive, and seldom acted in groups, so it wasn’t unheard of for robust farmers using sheer numbers to overcome a witch, provided they could accept the inevitable initial casualties.
The exceptionally agile rabbit-headed shopkeeper was probably an exception.
As day broke, the street became busier, and as they moved forward, surprised and fearful shouts followed them from behind. Fortunately, the creature’s target was clear, or else Charlie would find it hard to abandon innocent bystanders if they were threatened.
Their ship was docked at the port, and before reaching it, they needed a plan—at least to prevent it from following them on board… The rabbit-headed shopkeeper was still pondering when a clear voice called out from ahead. “Hey!”
The rabbit-headed shopkeeper and the Duke stopped in their tracks, facing a dark-skinned, beautiful young girl.
It was Sasha.
The girl looked like a pure tourist, just as she had in Lababata, dressed in the high-waisted lantern trousers typically worn by local women, adorned with various clinking, clanging cheap jewelry, holding a large pot of Fortuna City’s special vegetable soup—a luxurious version of the dock workers’ crude breakfast, containing pork, lamb, salted beef, and seasonal fruits—with a wooden spoon stuck in it, making one wonder if she intended to eat it boldly while walking.
“It’s you, huh? Where’s the little brat?” Sasha had spotted Charlie’s distinctive rabbit head from a distance. Although she had been rebuffed last time, she still called out to him before thinking.
If trouble had a life of its own, it would surely be an endlessly multiplying spore form—the rabbit-headed shopkeeper glanced back at the shadow, which had slowed due to the increasing crowd (and the ensuing confusion), and reluctantly lifted his top hat. “Miss, we meet again.”
Sasha looked at him suspiciously. “Why are you in such a hurry? You guys—”
Her gaze shifted to the Duke beside him, her eyes widening with interest.
“Who is this?” she asked, thinking it was no wonder everyone had to go on a pilgrimage around the continent. Before today, she thought Erica was the most handsome man she had ever seen.
Sasha had seen handsome men before, but the one in front of her was different from those whose eyebrows seemed meticulously measured and who wore more lead powder than some women, giving off an effeminate vibe. Though somewhat thin, he had good shoulder width and long legs, and most importantly, he had a pair of eyes that weren’t those of a weak person.
Without any need for communication or testing each other, just the look in his eyes conveyed a strong will. In the education Sasha received, even a person who was critically ill and powerless deserved respect and attention if they possessed such eyes.
The Duke’s response was no response.
Even though it wasn’t a good time for this enthusiastic young woman to be flirting, the rabbit-headed shopkeeper, not used to seeing women embarrassed, spoke up. “We are in a bit of a hurry.”
Surprisingly, Sasha wasn’t annoyed by the Duke’s cold demeanor. As the shouting and clamor behind them grew closer, she tiptoed to look over Charlie’s shoulder. “What is that? Is it after you?”
She grinned at Dwight. “How about I smash it for you in exchange for your name?”
Dwight didn’t respond but raised his cane swiftly and harshly at Sasha, who instinctively dodged to the left, startled by his quickness. But the expected blow did not come—Dwight had retracted his cane in a feint, forcing Sasha to clear the way. He then strode past her, giving her a cold glance as he passed.
Charlie, entirely unprepared for Dwight’s sudden move, though it was only meant to scare Sasha off the path, quickly followed suit, nodding apologetically at Sasha as he passed.
“I didn’t expect you to suddenly make a move,” the rabbit-headed shopkeeper said, looking at the increasingly distinct profile of the Duke.
The Duke was unmoved. “She’s from the Lion family.”
With just that phrase, Charlie understood the source of his harsh demeanor: as a member of one of the Empire’s oldest high-ranking families, preserving the family’s status and glory was instinctive for every head of the Dwight family. Ever since learning of the Black Gold Families’ plot to overturn the continent using the Holy Grail, his attitude towards several families had shifted from disdain to vigilance and defense. No matter how cute Sasha might be, she likely bore no appeal to him.
Moreover, the Duke of Brandenburg was synonymous with arrogance and caprice, although the sharp edges fostered by a privileged life over the past decade had been somewhat softened on this journey away from his homeland, reminding the rabbit-headed shopkeeper of how much of a self-centered person he had been when they first met. The unexpected cane gesture reminded him of that.
“Given Sasha’s age, she likely isn’t involved in such core plans,” the rabbit-headed shopkeeper felt compelled to say.
“So I didn’t really make a move,” the Duke replied. “Move faster. Let’s get back to the ship.”
As if he needed a young girl to bail him out!
“We can’t let it follow us onto the ship.” The rabbit-headed shopkeeper glanced back again. They were getting increasingly closer to the port.
“Hall has already gone ahead,” the Duke said impatiently. “What are you afraid of?”
The rabbit-headed shopkeeper instinctively wanted to retort that he wasn’t afraid, but the words turned around in his mouth, and he swallowed them back.
It seemed this wasn’t the first time the Duke had asked this question. Last time, he had made a significant gesture—saying he could protect him.
Was this fulfilling a promise?
A mix of embarrassment, awkwardness, and emotion was so complex that it unusually disrupted the rabbit-headed shopkeeper’s ability to maintain his usual composure. His expression was notably conflicted for a moment. He coughed lightly, pretending to remain calm. “What’s your plan?”
For some reason, Brandenburg possessed many expensive and rare magical items yet had no serious mages (Erica doesn’t count). He recalled that on the ship there were the remaining crew members, Hasting and Amber, along with a few mercenaries whose contracts were nearly expired, none of whom seemed to possess much magical power.
The Duke didn’t elaborate much. As the tall mast of their ship came into view, his pace slowed.
“Do you know why Shivers appointed Hasting to temporarily take his place?” he suddenly asked a seemingly unrelated question.
As he spoke, the rabbit-headed shopkeeper saw a young knight with dark short hair and a stern face standing high on the ship’s railing, quietly watching them, holding a bow nearly as tall as a person.
For some reason, although the enchanted puppet was still closing in from behind, the rabbit-headed shopkeeper’s anxious mood incredibly settled down, and he even stopped walking.
“Why?” he asked softly.
Although they were still far away, at that moment Hasting also raised his bow and drew the string—almost as if answering his question through the air.
The young man’s gaze was firm, never lingering on his own master but instead focusing beyond them, locking onto the shadow that had now moved as naturally as a human and was quite fast.
A whooshing sound passed between the rabbit-headed shopkeeper and the Duke. The Duke didn’t look back but continued walking forward. “Because Hasting has a magic-nullifying constitution. With him around, no unnatural schemes can take effect.”
Few knew this.
Knight Commander Shivers was renowned for his extraordinary equestrian and swordsmanship, and every member of the Brandenburg Knights was a picked warrior, fierce in battle. Yet, Hasting remained one of the secret cores of the Brandenburg Knights’ invincibility in Pennigra.
Charlie learned in his first magic class at Monterey Academy that, actually, most people have magical potential—it was just a matter of more or less.
Gifted mages could manipulate natural elements, blur the lines between space and life and death, influence battlefields, and affect the geopolitical landscape of the continent, while most people’s magic, though present, was very subtle. Without systematic learning and development, it was hard to recognize its existence, at most enough for a prophetic dream once in a long while—starting from ten years, essentially non-existent.
But “most” implied there were exceptions.
People with a magic-nullifying constitution were rarer than great mages. They had no magical fluctuations within their bodies, couldn’t respond to natural elements, and even eating all the magic books in the world wouldn’t make them mages—but conversely, no magic could affect them. Depending on the strength of their constitution, they could also influence their surroundings, becoming a mobile anti-magic barrier.
Such individuals were so rare that not even five could be counted across two continents, among whom the most famous was the current Emperor Constantine.
Hasting excelled with a blade, but his archery was clearly also remarkable. The arrow flew through the shadow as if carrying a streak of sunlight, and “ding” hit the stone street, sending out a few sparks.
The shadow evaporated like morning mist in the sunlight, leaving the surrounding bystanders puzzled and uncertain, looking toward where the arrow had been shot, unsure of what exactly had happened.
The knight lowered his arm and leaped from the ship’s railing, landing neatly on the dock amid exclamations of surprise. Behind him, a gangplank was lowered from the ship.
The author has something to say:
Sasha: Erica who?
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