Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

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Chapter 172

Run. Run fast.

Amber had only one thought in his mind. He didn’t know where to go or who the intruders were. His carriage-driving skills were only learned from mercenaries during breaks from his literacy lessons. He had never driven a carriage at full speed alone, and being unfamiliar with the terrain, he had a couple of near turn-overs when making sharp turns—but he managed to handle it, with his heart pounding wildly.

This wasn’t because he feared the assassins following them. Born in an underground arena, Amber was never afraid of death. What he worried about were the people in the carriage: Lady Priscilla’s belly was very large now, and even when she walked slowly in the garden, Amber feared that the bumps would hurt her.

But he couldn’t slow down. Probably because the auction was about to start, most people in the inner city were focused on the central auction hall. They had chosen their new house in a very secluded location to stay low-key. Although it wasn’t dark yet, the twilight was dim, the wind was getting colder, the streetlights hadn’t turned on, and there were few pedestrians, scattered in twos and threes—

Amber’s eyes widened suddenly. Not far ahead, a man in a bowler hat suddenly had his waist stretch up to the height of two stories, making his whole body thin and elongated like a tall, shriveled scarecrow. He awkwardly turned his head towards them, as if he were about to lean forward.

Was it an illusion or… Amber instinctively wanted to slow down. At that moment, someone grabbed his hand and pulled it skillfully. The carriage made a dangerous turn and darted into the neighboring street.

“Erica.” Amber loosened the reins and asked in a low voice, “What was that?”

“A type of puppet, but different from a witch’s.” Erica didn’t look back. The shops on both sides of the street they sped past were tightly shut. The same kind of creepy monsters emerged from the cracks in the sidewalk tiles, one after another, growing tall and large like disgustingly accelerated mushrooms.

Ordinary swords and knives couldn’t harm them, but at this moment, Erica was the only one with magic. Her usual cautious approach paid off now. The map of the inner city and basic defenses given to her by Louis were imprinted in her mind, requiring no extra thought. Erica decisively crossed one block after another, using a few unexpected turns and reversals to temporarily shake off the puppets.

When the carriage finally stopped at a deserted street corner, the sun had completely set, but for some reason, the streetlights were dim, with several flickering on and off, creating an ominous feeling.

Amber opened the carriage door, and Prima, startled, looked up. Seeing it was him, she breathed a sigh of relief. Emerald was wedged between two seats, looking very angry because no one helped it break free.

But Amber told them to stay put. He and Erica jumped off the carriage together and circled around to observe. Erica twisted open a lantern hanging on the carriage, approached the back of the carriage, and saw several mud-like stains illuminated by the light.

“Puppet marks,” Erica explained softly to Amber without touching them. “The carriage is contaminated. They’ll catch up eventually unless we cleanse these marks in time.”

Though Erica had talent, she had always treated magic as a supplementary skill and had never systematically studied it. Attacking was barely manageable for her, but cleansing wasn’t her forte.

If Mr. Charlie were here, he might be able to do it, but—

Erica glanced at the sky and reported the carriage’s situation to Priscilla.

“Then let’s get off,” Priscilla said softly. “If we’ll be tracked anyway, there’s no point in running endlessly.”

“I’ve sent a message to Shivers. He will try to meet us, but we need to find a safe place first.” Erica picked up Emerald and handed it to Amber, then turned to Prima. “Prima, please help. Yes, the Lady is not very mobile right now…”

Prima had been supporting Priscilla even inside the carriage to prevent her from getting jolted. She slung the large bundle over her shoulder and helped Priscilla out of the carriage. Amber wanted to help her with the bundle, but she firmly refused.

“I have the strength,” she said. “But I can’t fight, so at least I shouldn’t be a burden to you now.”

She pulled a thin blanket from the seats inside the carriage and used it as a cloak to wrap around Priscilla. “Where should we go? Priscilla can’t walk too far.”

Priscilla held Prima’s arm tightly under the cloak. Neither voiced their worry: Priscilla had been feeling unwell since earlier, but they knew they couldn’t stop here.

Erica and Amber led Priscilla across the street. Amber lingered for a moment, doing something unknown. Suddenly, the horse pulling the carriage neighed loudly and ran off with the empty carriage down another road.

……

Khalif didn’t use the guest entrance. Instead, he entered the venue through a gate that wasn’t open to the public, surrounded by a team of guards. The hall, usually decorated with silver and red, was adorned tonight with extremely expensive ultramarine drapes, gilded wall panels, and glittering chandeliers, with a huge rock sculpture of several majestic wolves in the center.

Dwight stood on the second-floor balcony, looking down at Khalif, who seemed mesmerized by the statue.

“There’s a similar sculpture in the city’s largest gambling house, the Platinum Palace—a life tree with a few monkeys climbing on it,” Shivers whispered. “The two families have similar histories.”

“Otherwise, they wouldn’t partner up to rob,” Dwight sneered, withdrawing his gaze as a lady, arm in arm with her male companion, walked by and curiously glanced at them.

Dwight wore a half-silver mask. His light golden hair was tied in a bundle behind him, and he had grown taller recently. His suit, bought off the rack, made him feel a bit constrained. The lower half of his exposed face was always tense, giving even passing strangers a sense of his low spirits.

Shivers wanted to say something but suddenly changed his expression, nodded slightly to the Duke, and quickly turned to leave. Hasting, who had been two steps away, stepped forward to fill the gap.

Dwight instinctively rubbed the gem at the top of his cane. Only one special circumstance would cause Shivers to leave him with his back turned: Erica contacting him urgently because of Priscilla. This was a direct order from Dwight himself.

Is there a problem with Priscilla? Then what’s Louis doing?!

Dwight no longer paid attention to Khalif in the hall and headed for their reserved private box.

They had secured a very good private box through an internal discount arranged by Louis before Adan’s incident. Originally, the Duke disliked doing such “petty” things, but the rabbit-headed shopkeeper excitedly went through the back door to get the VIP seat despite Dwight’s wishes, causing him to ask Shivers if Dwight had a habit of being overly generous.

Now, there was already someone sitting in the box—the well-connected, rabbit-headed shopkeeper. Because his head still maintained the appearance of a rabbit, he arrived early to avoid unnecessary attention.

He was sitting on a single sofa, studying the auction catalog and jotting notes in a notebook. On the table were his top hat and a half-drunk glass of iced mint tea, with crystal-clear condensation droplets on the glass.

He looked carefree.

The Duke, with a stern face, approached and flicked one of his slightly swaying, long ears. “Where’s your brother?”

Charlie, engrossed in writing, had to look up when interrupted. “What?”

“Erica contacted Shivers urgently. There must be an issue with Priscilla. Shouldn’t your brother be with her right now?” Dwight sat on another sofa, and Hasting moved the top hat from the table to the hat rack by the door.

Charlie put down his pen, eyes shifting. From his jacket pocket, he took out a flat paper bird. “Hasting, this place is full of surveillance magic—don’t look at me like that. Of course, I cleared this box. Find a window opening outside and release the messenger. It knows where Louis is.”

Hasting took the folded paper bird. In the blink of an eye, it quickly expanded into a fluffy ball in his hands, without any visible beak.

Charlie whistled. “You’re in good shape. This building usually rejects unregistered magic. I thought it would need the window open to transform.”

The young knight, unfamiliar with small animals, feared crushing the bird if he squeezed too hard, yet couldn’t just openly carry it to the window. Awkwardly, he cupped it gently and walked out.

“Louis wouldn’t stay too close to Priscilla,” Charlie said, watching Hasting leave, then responding to Dwight’s earlier question.

“Nonsense. He has a responsibility—”

“Of course, he takes responsibility. I mean, he doesn’t like being close to people he cares about,” Charlie explained patiently. “Louis hates the Holy Grail’s bloodline more than I do. He thinks the World Dragon is a symbol of terror and tragedy, and the Holy Grail awakening it’s no different from a curse. So he believes that he himself, as the Holy Grail, represents terror and tragedy, bringing misfortune to those around him. The first proof of this was our mother.”

Then there was Fahim, who exhausted himself for them, his original illness worsening from overthinking. Louis never voiced it, but Charlie knew deep down he had these thoughts.

His brother always had severe self-loathing tendencies, even extending to Charlie, who shared his bloodline. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have responded to Fahim’s question about what if Charlie were the Holy Grail and found by the Wolf Family with “Then I’d kill him myself.” This response also meant if Louis were the Holy Grail, he could end himself without burden.

However, Louis also deeply cared about his brother—perhaps the person he cared most about in the world was Charlie. These feelings weren’t contradictory for Louis.

“I’m very worried about him.” Charlie sighed, closing his notebook. “I thought becoming a father would make him care more about himself, but it hasn’t… That’s why I didn’t stay with Eugene and the others but followed Khalif. Now Louis is likely targeting him.”

“You mean to say your brother is a misanthropic pessimist,” Dwight said expressionlessly.

“Don’t talk about him like that,” Charlie rebuked. “He just has a little psychological issue. He…”

He stopped talking and looked at the box door closed by Hasting. A caterpillar was stuck in the door crack, half outside still paper, half inside a full, wriggling bug, which gave the Duke a disgusted look.

They all stopped talking. Down the hallway, Khalif led a group of people towards them, his face barely suppressing his rage.

“Useless fools! You had the coordinates but still missed them. Send more people—” He couldn’t wait to give orders until inside the box, gritting out his words. “Even if you have to turn White Bridge upside down, find Prima. If you can’t, just kill yourselves on the spot. Don’t come back!”

Xanye followed behind, looking indifferent but feeling turmoil inside.

Khalif not finding Prima was expected because she had tipped off the family’s assassins to capture Prima first to use as leverage against Khalif. But the first wave sent had failed.

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