Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 116
The appearance of the witch Elena was like an unexpected hurricane, toppling a large swath and leaving a mess before quickly dissipating. No one knew where she had gone.
This unknown only deepened everyone’s unease.
On board the Azalea was a noble from a certain kingdom, traveling to White Bridge under the protection of two Black Gold Families. This was hardly a secret in Fortuna City, so many ships set their sights there, preparing to leave port with it, which somewhat increased their sense of security.
The only ones who felt a loss and reluctance were the various hunters who had rushed over, unwilling to believe that the witch had simply died or disappeared. Only a few focused on why a witch, who should have been reclusive, appeared in Fortuna City on the eve of the auction.
The sheriff’s department’s investigation report was either openly straightforward or covertly mysterious, and copies were placed on the desks of different individuals.
“The initial record was from a makeup artist who had signed a short-term contract with the city theater and had been walking home from work at the same time for three consecutive days—the theater was about to start a new show, and he and a partner were fitting rehearsals for twenty-seven actresses. Work hours were from eleven at night to five in the morning. That day, his partner left with an actress from the theater, so he didn’t leave together.”
Soon after, he was found collapsed on the street.
Alexander had seen the report beforehand and omitted the complex details, distilling the key points. “During the rescue, the sheriff discovered he was possessed by black magic. Two passersby drove off the demon for him, but due to insufficient strength, they ended up being chased all over the streets—later, another passerby completely expelled it with a bow and arrow on the docks.”
This report was very detailed, with elegant handwriting showing a thorough investigation. Many of the details came from eyewitness descriptions. If it weren’t for the early hour, Alexander felt the report could have been twice as thick.
In contrast, the report on the actual chaos at the docks where Elena appeared was much simpler, for an obvious reason. Apart from the foreman, Pambrick, and Louis, there were hardly any witnesses that saw the whole thing. Even the one who finally drove Elena back was…
Wait.
Louis snatched the first report from Alexander’s hand, quickly skimmed through it, and stopped at the last few lines.
[Completely expelled with a bow and arrow].
He remembered the person who drove Elena back—a bowman or perhaps also a mage—as the swarm of rats that were like a plague had no effect in front of him, and the witch was powerless against him. If he had been a minute later, Elena might have escaped. However, because it was dim, he hadn’t paid much attention to the man—Louis had thought he was just one of the bounty hunters chasing her.
Louis felt this was no coincidence. The likelihood that both bowmen were the same person was high.
Both reports lacked more records about this person, indicating two possibilities: one was that the person kept a very low profile or shouldn’t openly reveal his identity, disappearing quickly after accomplishing his goals, making it impossible for the security team to track him; the second was that although they had roughly located the target, the person wasn’t from Fortuna City and was just a passerby—without concrete evidence, the sheriff’s jurisdiction over non-local residents wasn’t extensive.
As for the report’s brief mention of Charlie’s “rabbit head”, Louis decided not to be too paranoid for the moment.
“Let them know about my street attack appropriately,” Louis said. “Turn the case around. Elena is dead. They don’t need to continue the investigation.”
Now, more than Elena, he was concerned about that mysterious archer.
Alexander understood that he was taking over this contradiction, attributing the reason for the witch’s appearance to himself. Although doing so could indeed temporarily suppress this series of disturbances, it would be difficult to follow these clues deeper—if Elena’s appearance wasn’t of her own will, but summoned to Fortuna City…
But Louis had made up his mind.
Alexander nodded. “Additionally, the Azalea is ready to sail at any time.”
……
The shipping route from the docks of Fortuna to White Bridge was well-established and not far, with a quite comprehensive commercial navigation system. Luxury passenger ships were often very opulently decorated, equipped with restaurants, card rooms, gardens, music halls, and theaters. The Azalea, being a new ship, would have made for a quite comfortable voyage if not for Priscilla feeling unwell.
The Duke’s Zephyr followed shortly, maintaining a careful distance from the Azalea. Because of the slow sailing speed, even Shiloh, who was prone to seasickness, could stay on deck to enjoy the sun and teach Amber to read.
Amber was learning diligently, having mastered over two hundred common characters to date, able to independently read short obituaries and transaction information in the newspaper, and even some simple jokes.
Emerald, having been locked up, was throwing a tantrum and had fasted for seventeen hours. While this time might seem short, equivalent to missing two meals, it was quite severe for Emerald, probably due to how many years it had been asleep. This little Pluto Owl had a good appetite. After waking up, its stomach would keep growling, disturbing the Duke so much that he couldn’t even write his letters, so he had to come up on deck as well.
Amber felt sorry for Emerald, knowing the pain of hunger all too well, but he couldn’t feed it. He wasn’t an unreasonable child and knew that taming was a mutual struggle. Now was a critical time.
But he still felt sorry for Emerald.
The cold-hearted Duke ignored the occasional glances Amber threw his way, whispering something to his Shivers.
The rabbit-headed shopkeeper privately said the Duke was nearly arrogant in his confidence (and indeed, his everyday demeanor confirmed this), but ever since Witch Elena appeared in Fortuna City, he had a vague sense of foreboding, making him somewhat restless, yet unable to pinpoint the source.
This anxiety was even unrelated to Elena herself. The witch’s appearance seemed more like a lever, prying into a stinking, irresistible can of rot, terrifying him.
Only then did he truly understand Rabbit Head’s reluctance to go to White Bridge. Even he was so anxious, he wondered how the other managed to overcome this feeling, casually boarding the ship and proceeding with everyone.
…Maybe it was better not to have come at all.
If he genuinely didn’t know where Rabbit Head had taken Elena, the Duke might have wanted to say just that.
As a member of the Wolf Family, which inherited the Holy Grail bloodline, they were surely more familiar with this seemingly fantastical legend. He didn’t know if there was a way to identify someone other than the Lamp Bearers, but their thirst for power was certainly more urgent than that of the nobles. The Duke never underestimated how hideous humans could be in the face of desire, and even if he wasn’t afraid, it still disgusted him.
Moreover, Charlie must be scared. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be so concerned about Elena’s safety.
Unfortunately, as long as Kurt was in White Bridge, it was likely that he would still come, and as for how to rescue the astrologer then, even the Duke couldn’t guess the shopkeeper’s plan.
It was impossible to simply buy the astrologer out. Not to mention the sky-high price that the astrologer’s annual spectacle would fetch; even if it were affordable, it would require the equivalent of two or three ships’ worth of payment, which would be virtually impossible to manage with their status as stowaways. Even the wealthy Southern Lord, Lestrop, only sought an opportunity to consult the astrologer for a prophecy.
“With Tifa gaining the support of several domestic princes, he already had the upper hand. The Queen’s family, to clear Christine of suspicion in the bedroom murder case, also made a gesture this time. Lestrop, though tough, is unpopular. Even two fists can’t beat four hands,” Shivers said softly. “Plus, he’s already suffered a setback in vigor.”
He subtly didn’t state the conclusion that “Lestrop is about to fail”, but unless a miracle happened, this Earl, once more influential than the King, would soon be branded a national traitor due to his defeat.
“Christine will persuade him to adopt a merciful King’s posture, to confine his brothers, retain his title and lands, ‘to transform him with kindness and love’.”
As part of the other princes supporting the King, the land might likely be reduced. At this time, Priscilla’s plea for mercy would timely ignite public opinion. Under the circumstances of Lestrop’s defeat, if Tifa ruthlessly expelled a weak, postpartum woman with a newborn, his previous merciful facade would be self-shattered.
And Priscilla’s years of effort would come into play at this time—whether as the Lady of the Manor or the Countess, her impeccable demeanor had always been exemplary. No one in the kingdom could find another noblewoman who treated everyone with such gentleness and consideration. She even continued some traditions from Lemena, convincing her husband to waive taxes for some of the very poor, and participating in public celebrations on major holidays; thus, her reputation in the south was quite high.
It was hard to say whether she had been laying the groundwork for today from the beginning, but her never-relaxed efforts were always bound to be rewarded.
“Let Erica write a letter to the steward in the name of the Empire, allowing me entry to Doran,” the Duke said.
Mokwen hadn’t yet entered the competition for the imperial throne for all of Doran. Tifa hesitated in decision-making, lacking courage. Once domestic public opinion formed, and the Duke of Brandenburg personally visited his postpartum sister on behalf of the Pennigra Empire, this matter would succeed.
The premise was that Priscilla and the child stayed safe.
A salty breeze blew past, and both men fell silent. They watched Eugene sit at the bow, softly blowing a handmade piccolo, his tune woeful and discordant, more like an animal crying.
But strangely, including Hasting, who was leaning against the side with his arms crossed, no one on deck stopped him.
“Has Eugene sensed something?” Shivers whispered.
The Duke didn’t speak.
In fact, more than just Eugene was worried about the rabbit-headed shopkeeper.
Although he was stubborn and irreverent, after such a long time together, even the best actor would find it difficult to completely mask their true self over this distance, especially since the shopkeeper wasn’t deceitful. He always openly carried the “I have secrets, lots of secrets” demeanor, facing curiosity and questioning without a direct response, but never lying about it.
That was precisely why Eugene and the others were more worried—Charlie always had a way to solve everything, and even a fool knew that the secrets keeping such a shopkeeper silent weren’t related to trivial honors, self-esteem, or wealth.
As time passed, it seemed everyone was getting closer to the shopkeeper’s past, but at some point, even Shiloh gradually replaced his enthusiasm with silence.
Including this time, only Amber asked where Mr. Rabbit Head had gone and why he wasn’t continuing the journey with them.
The Duke fiddled with a pine nut between his fingers.
He didn’t plan to tell anyone about his speculations regarding the Holy Grail, not because Shivers and Priscilla were untrustworthy, but because such secrets were always best kept to as few people as possible.
However, just like with Witch Elena, the Duke didn’t believe this was an unsolvable problem. If the root of the problem lay in the Black Gold Families, specifically the blasphemous ambitions of the Wolf, then solve the Wolf and let the legend remain just that.
There were always those in the other three families who didn’t wish to see the Wolves grow strong alone. At least from Yitzfa’s behavior at Thorn Manor, they didn’t want the century-long balance of the four families to be easily broken.
“Who is the current leader in White Bridge?” the Duke suddenly asked.
Shivers paused, startled. Lemena had no official dealings with Wolf, and their focus had always been on the auction itself. The Knight Commander hesitated before answering. “The last time the Wolf King was determined, a man named Khalif won, but that was when I was still a child.”
“Then let’s find out,” the Duke said, tossing the full pine nut. It flew past Amber and Shivers, hitting Eugene on the forehead, stopping his flute playing.
“Tell them Rabbit Head is fine.” The Duke stood up, deciding to go back and see if Emerald had starved into stupidity. “So don’t be so pathetic—unless you’ve resolved to save him with a handkerchief soaked with tears.”
The author has something to say:
Charlie is nice to everyone, so he actually has more friends than he knows.
Dwight is quite young, and who doesn’t have a bit of princely syndrome in their adolescence? But he’s gradually realizing how much Charlie values his friends, and how miraculous his optimism is.
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