Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 180
Louis’s senses seemed to plummet along with his consciousness. After enduring the initial pain and cold, he lost control of his limbs. His body floated helplessly, but this gave him an unprecedented feeling of lightness—in the first half of his life, moments of drifting without any concerns were few and far between.
If this was death, it wasn’t much different from what he had imagined—trading a moment of pain for endless peace was a fair deal. If there was any regret, it was that the Holy Grail was actually Charlie, and his death couldn’t break the curse.
But Charlie was smart. If he heard about Louis’s death without seeing the Lamp Bearers at White Bridge, he would understand everything. Khalif’s investigation would be in vain. As long as Charlie didn’t grieve too much and remained rational enough to leave White Bridge, no one in the world would ever know that Louis was actually two people.
But that was Charlie, always too naïve and optimistic…
Louis, in a haze, thought that it was unlikely for Charlie not to be sad.
Charlie had always been different from him. When Louis was young, he was often sick, so he was kept at home by his uncle. Lying in bed, feeling uncomfortable both physically and mentally, he was mostly unhappy. Even the servants secretly distinguished between the brothers in their hearts, calling the cheerful Charlie “Little Nut” and the always pouting Louis “Little Snail”.
In the world of Little Snail, it was always rainy. Whenever he was unhappy, he would retreat into his shell, just like Louis, who stayed in bed.
Louis hated his identity and his life, and he hated this nickname (even though no one called him that to his face). Whenever he woke up at night with a fever, he would be stubborn and refuse to let “those nasty people” pour him tea.
Charlie would help him. He was too young then, too absorbed in his own world to realize how Charlie, also just a child afraid of the dark and heights, managed to convince himself to climb out of bed in the middle of the night, holding a candle to fetch water, cough syrup, and clean pajamas for Louis, tirelessly keeping him company until they both fell asleep.
Charlie truly deserved his nickname—a child always smiling, considerate, and decisive, like a sweet nut with a little crack.
But why was he the slimy snail?
“Snails are cute,” Charlie would say earnestly, patting the blanket as he spoke. “There’s a kind of small snail by the garden well. If you hold it up to the sunlight, you’ll see it’s transparent… Even the shell! It’s like a crystal toy.”
Louis would pull the blanket up to his nose, mumbling, “Not cute at all.”
“Cute.”
“Not cute.”
“Cute. If I have a child someday, I’d like to call them Little Snail.”
Louis pulled the blanket up a bit more, covering half his face. “Why have children? This curse—”
He stopped mid-sentence because Fahim forbade them from discussing this matter without him present.
“I said if. If you have a child, what name would you give? Do you like Little Nut?” Charlie stubbornly continued.
Louis was distracted by him, frowning as he thought for a while. “That’s a nickname, not a proper name.”
“Then you think of one, and I’ll think of one too,” Charlie said, clearly not sleepy and full of enthusiasm. “Louis, do you prefer boys or girls?”
Louis thought for a long time before saying, “Boys.”
Their sensitive status meant they had almost no playmates their age. His understanding of girls was limited to knowing that girls grew into women. The women he knew were either stern grammar teachers or plump housekeepers, and even if they were shrunk down, Louis didn’t want to play with them.
“I want a daughter,” Charlie said. “And I’d name her Jenny.”
“What about you? What about you?” He nudged the blanket-covered Louis. “What name would you give your future child?”
“George.” Louis’s muffled voice came through the blanket. “George.”
“George! George! George! George!”
Louis felt dazed and confused, not sure why he suddenly remembered something from so long ago.
George… Why did he think of that?
Whispered conversations between two kids who didn’t even have a sense of gender identity—he thought he had long forgotten these trivial details.
“George! George! George!”
But someone kept shouting the name George in his ear, making it impossible for him to concentrate.
Stop yelling.
Louis frowned, wanting to stop the voice, but found he couldn’t speak.
“George! George!”
He had a splitting headache—Louis abruptly opened his eyes, finding his vision blurred. His insides felt like they had been wrung out, and even breathing was painful.
“George! George!” The incessant voice was real.
Louis tried to turn his head to locate the source, but his vision hadn’t cleared, and his eyes were still unfocused.
However, the overly excited little bird immediately noticed his movement, jumped onto his chest, and nuzzled his chin, falling silent.
Based on the feel, size, and personality (?), Louis could deduce it was Charlie’s Gray Sentinel even without seeing it clearly.
This little bird was modeled after a species in the deep forests of Doran, adept at reconnaissance. It looked similar to an ordinary sparrow but had completely different flight capabilities and sharpness. The local natives once tamed them for combat, but this led to near extinction—a fact Charlie read about in the library and liked these clever little creatures. Hence, when developing communication magic, he immediately thought of them.
Louis wasn’t as interested in rare animals as Charlie, but Charlie’s magic always had a strong personal touch, making it hard not to recognize.
He said George… Priscilla?
Louis’s vision became clearer. He moved his fingers, slowly regaining control of his limbs, and despite the immense pain, he realized his wounds had been treated.
Perhaps due to the messenger bird’s relentless efforts to deliver the message, Louis’s hearing recovered first, possibly because the people outside weren’t speaking softly.
……
Ham slammed into the wall, his back and hands going numb from the shock.
The battle-mad Lion Family’s reputation was well-deserved. Ham had never encountered a woman like this in his life—her speed, strength, and combat awareness were far beyond ordinary. Every muscle was honed into a killing machine, and her aggressive style was truly fierce.
She hadn’t even drawn her weapon. If McMullan hadn’t warned him, Ham might have been seriously injured by her first strike, something he would have considered an impossible joke in his previous life.
“Vasilia,” McMullan said, straining to block her punch but unable to suppress her raging anger.
“Where?” Vasilia asked coldly.
All three men realized what she was asking. Although the Black Gold Family had a large population, the truly excellent and valuable candidates for future leadership were precious in any family. This time, the young person representing the Lion Family at White Bridge was one of the most promising new generations.
No wonder she was so angry.
McMullan said gravely, “Vasilia, you know the rules! Illegally entering the Wolf Family estate and attacking—do you not teach your juniors the understanding of victory and defeat?”
Neiman found it odd. It was his first time seeing the famous Vasilia, but McMullan’s tone sounded like they knew each other. How could they have had the chance to meet? Besides, Vasilia wasn’t even on the guest list for the Lion family!
Vasilia sneered, “I don’t need your words. Failing a mission requires the resolve to face death, but that doesn’t include having their bodies used for your filthy games. I will take them away tonight, whether you allow it or not.”
McMullan’s heart sank. Khalif had indeed insisted on taking the still-breathing assassin into the underground corridor, despite his injuries.
They had followed Khalif for many years and were never allowed into the forbidden area, but they were keenly aware of his occasional inexplicable rejuvenation cycles. Coupled with his secret executions of those deemed rebellious, it was clear to them that he was stealing life force from others.
Vasilia’s determination indicated she knew Khalif’s actions well, prompting her to tear away the facade and fight to prevent her family’s junior from falling into Khalif’s hands.
And her judgment was correct.
“We won’t stop you,” McMullan said after a moment of consideration.
Vasilia raised an eyebrow. Ham and Neiman looked like they had something to say—it was one thing to allow the enemy’s high-ranking members to treat this place like their backyard, but now, after letting that old Monkey in, they had to deal with a Lioness too?
McMullan shook his head at them.
“Your child is inside. Sven went in too,” he said sincerely. “They probably won’t let you have your way.”
“Khalif was defeated by me ten years ago, and it will be the same today,” Vasilia said proudly, glancing at McMullan. “But you—”
Her gaze fell on the door to the smoking room.
“It’s about time,” she said, breaking the door panel on the ground with a step and entering the corridor.
“Why didn’t you tell her that the kid is still alive?” Neiman asked McMullan in a low voice.
Ham sneered. “Do you think those people went in there to bandage the injured girl, fluff her pillow, and serve her hot soup? Khalif, injured as he is, didn’t ask for bandages. He insisted on dragging a living person in there, clearly thinking that’s the cure. It’s no coincidence that both the Monkey and Lion Families timed their entrances with Khalif’s.”
A starving vampire could drain a person in five minutes. If Khalif was quick, that short interval would be enough for him to do many things. The girl dragged in was doomed, and McMullan’s silence was the right call.
Ham thought with a schadenfreude what the old Monkey and that bitch Lion would think when they faced a newly empowered male wolf that had grown back its fangs.
The author has something to say:
About the discussion on children, back then, they didn’t even have a concept of the opposite sex. As adults, Louis doesn’t want offspring. If he has to have them, he prefers a daughter. Whoever speaks is responsible for their words; adult Louis won’t admit to it.
Also, the Fox family wouldn’t appear in such a scenario; they aren’t good at fighting.
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