Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 146
Louis provided Dwight and his team with a lot of conveniences within his authority. One such convenience was the specially designed carriage equipped with eavesdropping and surveillance prevention measures. However, its downside was that anything with Louis’s personal touch would easily draw attention within White Bridge. So, along the way, the Duke and the Knight Commander had to switch vehicles once, weaving through a series of connected buildings, even passing through a women’s dressing room of a theater before finally reaching the designated meeting place.
As they passed a counter filled with scales, Shivers glanced back at the towering cabinets reaching up to the ceiling. Though the drawers were closed, the lingering scent of tobacco in the air made it clear what kind of business this shop was running.
“Looks like despite the ‘agreement’, there’s still a lot of mutual distrust,” Shivers remarked, his voice low, blending with the creaky sounds of the staircase underfoot.
They had entered the tobacco shop through another secret passage, not seeing the sign outside. For such a place to serve as a secret meeting spot, it was clearly not controlled by the Wolf or Monkey families. Though such neutral zones in White Bridge weren’t non-existent, they were certainly rare. The effort behind maintaining such a spy-friendly venue under the scrutiny of both families indicated significant backing, likely from either the Fox or Lion Families.
Dwight kept as far from the wallpapered walls as possible. Whether due to neglect or infrequent use, he noticed trembling cobwebs and cautious little creatures peeking out from the cracks, making rustling sounds. The dusty air made his throat itch.
Had it not been for his recent travels, which made him somewhat accustomed to the fact that humans must coexist with various creatures, he’d be hard-pressed to resist the urge to burn this hellish place down.
“If—” He was about to speak while staring at a strangely shaped stain on the left when the previously heavy and stagnant air suddenly changed with alarming speed. Both Shivers and Dwight felt a chilling murderous intent at the back of their necks.
Shivers didn’t bother looking around the dim, narrow space. Instead, he stepped forward, meeting the sound of a blade slicing through the air with a reverse block. The heavy force behind it made his expression turn serious. Rather than sidestepping to deflect the blow, he pushed forward, forcibly repelling the attack.
Dwight, standing behind him, didn’t move, his right hand on his cane, focusing on the rear—but there had been no signs of traps or ambushes on their way up, and there was no noise from below. Was the assailant alone?
Shivers stared at the woman before him.
She had high cheekbones and a prominent nose, typical features of someone from the icy tundra. Standing backlit in the staircase, she halted after her failed attack, lowering her hands while studying them, especially Shivers.
“Yitzfa’s recommendation is more reliable than I thought,” she said. “If he’d sent a weakling who only plays with swords, we wouldn’t have had much to discuss.”
Shivers didn’t lower his short sword, still held protectively in front of the Duke. His expression didn’t soften at her mention of Yitzfa.
“That’s your reason for attacking?” he asked coldly.
“Attacking?” The woman paused, then laughed heartily. “That was just a greeting—please forgive me.”
She stepped aside, repeating, “Please forgive me, gentlemen.”
…Attacking without a word, then apologizing so easily—Shivers had never met such a peculiar person and was momentarily taken aback.
The killing intent had vanished after the initial strike, and they could both feel she now bore no malice. But that didn’t excuse her earlier abrupt assault.
“Alright, Green,” Dwight called from behind. “How long are you two going to stand there?”
That seemed to settle things. Vasilia, impressed by Shivers’ skills, felt a bit disappointed to find he was likely a noble—Yitzfa had specifically noted this. Otherwise, she might have wanted to get to know him better.
“You handle a sword well, with enough strength. You wouldn’t have achieved this without over ten years of relentless practice,” Vasilia remarked. “Yitzfa didn’t lie to me.”
Shivers looked around. The small, cramped room had only one door and no windows. Even the furniture was minimal, giving it a desolate look.
And Yitzfa wasn’t there.
“He didn’t give us many details.” Shivers thought for a moment. “Are you Vasilia?”
Her demeanor and skill suggested she had the authority and strength to lead northern mercenaries, so he guessed boldly.
Vasilia didn’t deny it, instead asking, “When did the Empire start taking an interest in White Bridge?” Yitzfa hadn’t explicitly identified their affiliations but gave hints—non-Doran continent, likely nobles, pointing to forces from the Constantine Empire.
“It has nothing to do with the Empire,” Shivers calmly replied. “Our target is the astrologer.”
Vasilia nodded, finding this reason convincing. This year’s news of the Wolf Family capturing an astrologer had spread faster and wider than the spring breeze across Doran. If it weren’t for the ancient non-interference pact between the Black Gold Families, Vasilia herself would have wanted a piece of the action.
“The astrologer is the Wolf’s highlight. Khalif won’t let anyone ruin his plans easily,” she said.
“His will isn’t our concern,” Shivers replied.
Vasilia paused, then looked at him with admiration.
“I usually find noble airs hypocritical and pretentious, but coming from you, it’s not so off-putting,” she said, her fierce demeanor softening with a vibrant, burning smile, making her quite captivating despite not being traditionally beautiful.
“Then let’s kill him,” Vasilia said lightly. “I can see that’s why you’re here.”
“And you? The Monkeys?” Shivers asked.
“Sven, that old man… As the head of the Monkey, he hasn’t been seen publicly for ten years,” Vasilia said. “Compared to Khalif, he’s overly cautious. It’s hard to get to him unless you penetrate deep into the Monkey Family.”
“Even if he suddenly came knocking, offering his neck, killing him wouldn’t change much. A man over a hundred years old isn’t hands-on. The Monkey has plenty of heirs to continue their ‘business’,” Shivers said bluntly. “He’s not like Khalif.”
Khalif’s method of restoring his waning power was to consolidate control and interfere with the Elders’ daily duties. If the Monkeys didn’t distract him, and if he didn’t lack trusted aides, he’d want everything under his control. His excessive meddling and divisive tactics had already intensified the conflicts among the high-ranking officials. If he died without a strong successor, it would likely cause a power struggle within the Wolf.
“So, like you, I want Khalif dead,” Vasilia said easily. “They’ve been jumping around behind the Wolf’s protection for years. The Wolves guard them in exchange for half their fruits of labor.”
If the Wolves were too weakened to protect them, things would get easier.
“Khalif’s power may be waning, but his strength is still…” Shivers stopped mid-sentence, noticing the Duke’s sudden frown.
Vasilia followed his gaze, seeing the overly elegant man finally move, raising his eyes to her.
“What’s set up in this house?” he asked.
“Some confidentiality and barrier spells,” Vasilia raised an eyebrow. “Why? You didn’t invite a reporter to this assassination meeting, did you?”
“My messenger is blocked,” Dwight said. “Open the window.”
A round, cautious little sparrow stared at the closed window, sensing an untouchable presence. But it didn’t wait long before the window opened from inside. The intimidating aura disappeared with the opening, and it darted in like a small cannonball.
It almost knocked Shivers off balance.
“What a lively communication spell.” Vasilia watched the gray sparrow. “Very clever… Almost lifelike.”
Shivers didn’t respond. The sparrow hopped energetically in his palm before turning back into a paper bird. Carefully unfolding it revealed a complete square letter.
Just as Shivers handed the letter to the Duke, they heard the jingle of the downstairs bell—indicating a door opening, but the shop wasn’t open tonight.
“It’s my people,” Vasilia said decisively, listening to the approaching footsteps, then slammed the window shut with a bang.
“My Lord, there’s unrest on Polican Street. A group set fire to the warehouse, killing several managers. The whole area is now locked down. Emily and the others are there tonight. The Monkey claims to evacuate and settle people, but really they’re just detaining everyone. Miss Susanna asked me to—to seek your instructions…” a short-haired girl said in one breath.
Vasilia frowned. “Calm down. Who started the fire?”
“Not sure. Some say dock workers, others say servants accompanying their masters to check goods, but none confirmed.”
“Tell them to stay put,” Vasilia ordered firmly. “It’s not our concern. Don’t provoke suspicion.”
“But…” The girl noticed the others in the room and suddenly fell silent.
“Go down,” Vasilia dismissed her and shut the door, turning back to them.
“Dock workers?” she asked sharply.
“Not our doing,” Dwight said leisurely. “For now. Now, if you don’t mind, we have something to discuss.”
Facing Vasilia’s suspicious gaze, the Duke had Shivers hand over the letter from Charlie.
It contained the rabbit-headed shopkeeper’s usual flowing script:
Tonight at nine.
Villa No. 5, East District, Basement Level 3.
Private meeting with the astrologer.
The message ended with a sketchy wolf’s head, clearly indicating Khalif.
The author has something to say:
Vasilia is a warrior mage.
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