Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 114
Emerald, realizing it had been tricked, instinctively pounced on the cage—to gnaw at the bars.
Unfortunately, this large cage was custom-made by the Duke after confirming its identity, and he had taken the trouble to bring it along, proving its practicality was fully worth its expensive cost. After all, throughout history, humans had rarely succeeded in capturing Pluto Owls, let alone domesticating them. The Duke always liked to be fully prepared.
Doran is home to the Mages Association, making it somewhat more convenient than Pennigra to purchase and customize magical items. Emerald didn’t understand how much the Duke had spent on this strange, large cage; it only discovered that no matter what position it tried, it couldn’t really gnaw through those shiny metal bars, leaving it both angry and deflated.
In fact, the Duke hadn’t underestimated it. Legend says that an adult Pluto Owl’s wingspan was as long as an adult human was tall, and its sharp beak could easily crush animal skulls. Even a poorly tempered steel knife might be gnawed apart by it, and coupled with its extraordinary flying speed, if it could be trained for combat, it would undoubtedly be a great asset. This was probably why, despite the difficulty of capture, generation after generation had pursued this legendary creature.
But that was in an “adult” state.
Previously, in a state of feigned death, Emerald was dry and shriveled, able to blend into a pile of bats that were palm-sized without any discrepancy, indicating it was far from adulthood. Even after the Duke had plumped it up a bit with liquor, it merely went from bat-sized to pigeon-sized. Strictly speaking, the crows that filled the sky were a bit bigger than it, so although the flock was in disarray, it actually didn’t eat many crows. The rest of the time, its instinct was merely confirming its place in the food chain.
In other words, it was mainly playing.
Small, playful, and foolish—it didn’t seem like a typical Pluto Owl. Given its size ratio and such naive behavior, Emerald might still be a toothed fledgling.
Children were always easier to handle than adult beasts—the Duke watched it gnaw at the cage for a while, gradually forgetting its initial purpose and focusing on contending with the cage. He signaled Amber to bring a piece of thick, deep purple velvet to cover the cage.
The velvet’s thickness was good for blocking light. They listened as the previously noisy gnawing gradually slowed down, and after a while, it stopped altogether.
…It was probably asleep.
Everyone present thought.
Eat and then sleep—good, it’s a promising baby.
Seeing Emerald calm down, Shivers tactfully had Hasting send Amber to bed, while the underage Shiloh, despite having no speaking rights, was allowed to attend adult meetings because of his strong combat capabilities.
But Shiloh didn’t mind this. First, because his mind indeed didn’t work as fast as the Duke’s, and second, because he had grown accustomed to following orders from an early age. Additionally, for some reason, he had a peculiar filter for the rabbit-headed shopkeeper, always feeling that nothing could stump the man, even if it involved disappearing with a notorious witch on the continent.
In this regard, Eugene was somewhat like him, blindly optimistic that the rabbit-headed shopkeeper would soon kill (?) the witch and return to join everyone, possibly even bringing back a strange magical item made from the witch’s bones—like a crucible that could keep food perpetually fresh.
But now, no one knew where he had gone with the witch or when he would return. His last words to the Duke had been, “Louis holds grudges. Elena might be in trouble. I need to see if I can save her.”
Then he blew up a giant balloon and floated over to join the fray. It wasn’t known if he noticed Emerald’s deterrent effect on the crows, but surprisingly, none of the birds went after the colorful balloon to peck at it, preventing him from falling into the water prematurely.
If the rabbit-headed shopkeeper were here, he’d certainly have boastfully declared something like, “Birds like to use bright and exaggerated shapes and colors to intimidate their opponents. I simply followed the laws of nature and achieved success through strength.”
The Duke didn’t share his speculations about the identities of Charlie and Louis with everyone, not because he didn’t trust the Brandenburg Knights. Having inherited the Dwight name, he was willing to entrust his life to them, including Shiloh. The originally scruffy little thief Eugene had also proven his loyalty and reliability during this journey. But this matter was too significant, and it was prudent to keep the circle of those in the know as small as possible. Dwight had decided, even Priscilla couldn’t be told.
“I think Mr. Charlie will definitely come back. I’m just not sure when,” Shivers said sensibly. “After all, the auction is happening soon.”
Everyone knew that if it weren’t for Astrologer Kurt, the rabbit-headed shopkeeper would be very reluctant to go to White Bridge.
“Should we wait?” Shiloh asked.
The Azalea was originally scheduled to sail in the evening, but due to the sudden commotion on the dock, many were still using the lights to clean up overnight. No matter how urgent, they probably could only wait until daylight the next day.
They had planned to leave with the Azalea.
“Sail as planned.” The Duke decided after a moment of thought. “We only wait for the Azalea. Waiting aimlessly for his return serves no purpose.”
As long as the destination was the same, they would reunite soon.
Hasting was somewhat fixated on Witch Elena. Although possessing a magic-resistant constitution meant he could theoretically disdain all mages, Hasting never underestimated a witch’s lethal power—Mr. Charlie was probably a mage too, but so far, he had never shown a hint of offensive magic capability, instead using tricks for spying, tracking, invisibility, or even pranks, seemingly unable to beat even Erica’s mediocre fireball magic.
If it were purely physical combat, that would be passable, but his opponent was Elena, who commanded an army of rats.
Another thing was that Hasting always felt the Duke’s attitude towards the shopkeeper was a bit special. Beyond “trust”, there was something indescribably more “significant”. At least previously, apart from the Knight Commander, the Duke rarely had someone he was so close to and comfortable with around. The reason everyone appeared calm about it was that Hasting and Hall weren’t the type to show their emotions openly, and aside from matters of principle, the Knight Commander wouldn’t speak out against the Duke’s actions. In fact, if others at Brandenburg saw their remarkably close interaction, rumors would have exploded across every inch of Lemena.
The majesty of a lord? Nonexistent when it came to secretly gossiping.
Because of this, the Duke’s decision to so readily “give up” on the rabbit-headed shopkeeper, unwilling to wait even one more day, confused Hasting slightly, but this confusion was soon resolved hours later.
A midnight visitor put the shift guards on high alert—after all, although they hadn’t disembarked, nearly everyone had heard about the chaos at the dock that afternoon. When representatives from the Black Gold Family of Fortuna City came to visit, they were tense, fearing part of the witch’s power might have infiltrated the ship.
It turned out, the visitors were there to apologize.
The mercenaries, unfamiliar with the etiquette of the grand households, watched speechlessly as a man dressed as if for a banquet, despite it being the middle of the night, his hair meticulously parted, approached them. Even the two attendants behind him carrying gifts were neatly dressed, with respectful expressions on their faces.
As the saying goes, it’s hard to strike a smiling face. Though the mercenaries thought the visitors were odd, given the clearly friendly gesture—and because the visitors had also slipped a gift their way—they could only awkwardly respond with a mix of formal and informal language, then relay the message to Hasting.
Although reticent, Hasting was much more adept at handling such situations than the mercenaries. He didn’t even glance at the gifts or attendants behind the man as he calmly thanked him for the untimely condolences and invited him to stay for a cup of hot tea.
The man subtly sized up Hasting, assessing him internally before turning to casually select a basket of pastries from the piles of gifts that could be described as small mountains, and repeated the usual platitudes about mismanagement causing distress to esteemed guests, before leaving.
Not a word more than necessary, let alone staying for tea.
Hasting wouldn’t think, like the mercenaries, that this was making a mountain out of a molehill. After a brief reflection, he took the basket of pastries picked out by the visitor to the Knight Commander.
“Apologies at this time?” Shivers leaned against the doorframe, raising an eyebrow at Hasting.
Hasting nodded.
It couldn’t be said that all of Fortuna City was under the control of the Black Gold Families, but at least the dock area was indeed managed by the Wolves and Monkeys. Plus, most of the ships temporarily docked in Fortuna City at this time were bound for White Bridge, so it wasn’t wrong to treat them as hosts offering condolences for this afternoon’s disturbance.
However, the timing was peculiar, and it was even stranger that the rotating mercenaries were bypassed to wait for Hasting, who looked more “in charge”, to appear. Hence, Hasting brought over the basket of pastries specifically selected by the visitor.
After learning that the visitor claimed to represent Mr. Louis, Shivers carried the basket and knocked on the Duke’s door.
“Come with me,” he told Hasting.
In the Duke’s room, only a soft lamp was left on. Emerald’s large cage was placed at the foot of the desk, from which intermittent snores could be faintly heard.
Dwight had just fallen asleep not long ago and was somewhat irritable. He stared at the basket for a minute after listening to Hasting’s report, while Shivers turned on another lamp.
Just as Hasting thought the Duke would turn back to bed, the Duke suddenly said, “Stand back.”
Hasting obediently stepped back five paces, still eyeing the basket.
Was the Duke suggesting the basket was magical?
“What time is it now?” he suddenly asked.
The Knight Commander glanced at the floor clock. “Quarter past four.”
“It seems Louis is back.” The Duke slowly became more alert. “If he hadn’t shown up, that pack of Wolves would have been in the water all night trying to find him. They wouldn’t have had the leisure to do this.”
And specifically making it known that they were acting on behalf of Louis, apart from declaring to all those watching the dock that Witch Elena had caused no harm to the Wolf family, had another purpose: to send a message to specific individuals.
For example, to Priscilla, who couldn’t casually inquire about these matters due to her position and stance. At least this midnight visitor could set her mind at ease.
And here too, indicating that Louis had safely returned meant that Charlie, who was with him, was also safe. The gifts being pastries and flowers also underscored this point. As for the basket…
The Duke didn’t personally untie the ribbons but watched the Knight Commander open the beautifully crafted gift basket, from which he extracted a basket of soft, sweet pastries, and a handcrafted chocolate egg in a glass bowl.
That chocolate egg was clearly a magical item—once the packaging was removed and it contacted the air, it heated up and melted in less than half a minute into a bowl of chocolate sauce.
And then there was no more.
Everyone watched the bubbling chocolate sauce, and only then did the Duke fully awaken. His expression was blank as he looked at Shivers, holding the glass bowl. “What is he trying to say?”
The Knight Commander was just as confused—who was he to ask?
But the boss was looking at him, and he had to come up with something, even if it was just words.
“Mr. Charlie and Louis together…” He tried to analyze rationally, but as soon as he spoke, the chocolate sauce “popped” up half a finger’s height.
…It seemed almost excited.
The Knight Commander hesitated and glanced at the Duke, then tentatively added, “Charlie?”
The chocolate sauce popped up another bubble, forming, in their view, a shape like a round-headed matchstick and a split twig.
The matchstick and twig were initially very close. Then, the twig surged to the edge of the glass bowl, while the matchstick stopped for a while before also surging in another direction. When it stopped, the twig turned back and moved closer again. Once they were near each other, they “popped” back into the bowl together.
The Duke felt a headache, not sure if it was because of this playful messaging method or because he actually understood it.
The split twig probably represented two long ears, and the matchstick was him. The two blobs of chocolate simply and vividly acted out a theme: you go first, I’ll follow.
He hadn’t planned on waiting anyway. The Duke expressionlessly settled back, casually pulling up the covers to cover half his face.
The author has something to say:
Emerald’s diet consists of birds, but it’s not a bird. It’s a wyvern. If I must say, I conceived it based on a pterosaur.
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