Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

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Chapter 197

The Duchess sat up straight. “How could that be?”

“The letter and envelope indeed carry the scent of the forest, but His Majesty summoned us because of the letter’s contents.” Duke Dwight looked tired.

Emperor Zoltar had received the letter in the middle of the night.

His palace and its surroundings were protected against magic, but this letter wasn’t delivered by ordinary means—a long-beaked white crane had carried the envelope, gracefully landing on his study’s terrace. The scene had nearly made Zoltar think he was dreaming from overworking.

The letter’s content was even more bizarre. The sender claimed to be the gatekeeper of the elves, who were hidden in the forest. Last month, an important elven artifact was stolen by humans, and they were seeking an explanation from the ruler of Pennigra.

The letter specifically mentioned that the thieves were associated with “Dwight”.

In the empire, there was only one Dwight, the Emperor’s brother, residing in the southeastern part of the continent—Duke Dwight. The Emperor found it unbelievable yet remembered that the Duchess hailed from the south, close to the ancient elven forests.

He had the letter and envelope examined by a mage, confirming they shared the same aura as existing elven artifacts. If the letter had been from anyone else, the Emperor might have laughed it off. But if it was from the elves…

Few people knew that the elves were actually a warlike race. Contrary to their serene appearance, they were proud and protective, never tolerating any provocation. In the days before they withdrew from the continent’s conflicts, they were involved in many large-scale wars.

Therefore, Zoltar treated the matter cautiously.

He didn’t make it public but summoned Duke Dwight to the capital for questioning. However, Duke Dwight knew nothing about it.

The Duchess pondered for a moment and said, “If they didn’t have evidence, they wouldn’t write your name with such certainty.”

No one knew her husband better than she did. Dwight had barely left Lemena in the past six months, partly due to the inconvenience of winter travel and partly because she and their daughter Priscilla had been unwell. Since their marriage, Duke Dwight rarely left home for long periods.

“I also believe someone has been using the Dwight name for nefarious purposes,” Duke Dwight said. “There are too many items bearing the Dwight crest—letters, gifts, furniture, carriages. Tracing everything that has left would be a massive undertaking. But the Emperor and I agree that as long as we can prove we’re not involved, a simple clarification will suffice.”

The Duchess sharply asked, “Does His Majesty think this is related to my family?”

Besides the capital, the Duchess’s maternal family communicated most frequently with Brandenburg. Given their location, it was an easy association.

Duke Dwight smiled. “The Emperor and I are certain you know nothing about it.”

Realizing he had inadvertently used political tactics on his wife, he quickly added, “We will continue to investigate, including identifying the sender. However, the Emperor plans to write back to clarify. If the forest needs the Empire’s cooperation, we will, as friends of the elves, oblige.”

The Duchess frowned slightly. “So, we can’t return to Lemena yet? If I had known, I would have brought the children.”

Duke Dwight knew she didn’t like being away from the children for long. Holding her hand, he reassured her. “I will visit the palace again tomorrow. If we need to stay longer in the capital, we can arrange for the children to come. Alfred will take good care of them on the journey.”

……

“To Green City?” Priscilla raised her teacup, looking surprised.

“You haven’t been to your grandmother’s house yet,” her uncle’s wife said warmly. “Emma always said you were too young—but you’re big children now. My son had traveled all over the south at your age. Myra Valley’s climate is better than here. It’s not cold in winter or hot in summer. There are vast lakes and endless fields, and wildflowers are as numerous as the stars in the sky, blooming right now.”

She continued eagerly, “Although your grandmother has passed, Aunt Anya is still there. Did you know she had another child last year?”

“Mother wrote about it, a little sister,” Priscilla said, splitting her attention to Arnie, who was daydreaming beside her.

Arnie disliked these relatives but didn’t want to leave Priscilla alone with them, so he had come along despite his distaste.

Priscilla also disliked them. With both parents away, they were enthusiastically inviting them to leave the castle. Whether it was polite conversation or not, it was inappropriate.

Seeing her brother was bored, Priscilla put down her cup and gently touched his ear. “Arnie, would you like to go to the garden? Father had a swing set up there last year, but winter came early, and he didn’t get a chance to take us. Go see if the swing is still there.”

Arnie shook his head. The woman’s wandering eyes while talking to Priscilla made him feel he needed to protect his sister.

Priscilla understood his thoughts and whispered in his ear, “I’ll talk to her. You take the chance to investigate what they’re up to.”

This worked. Arnie blinked, slid off the sofa, nodded slightly at the woman across from him, and left the sitting room. Elaby quickly followed.

The guest house was one of the Dwight family’s ancestral properties. Though not large, it was well-structured and elegantly furnished. Behind the house was a small maple grove. Duke Dwight liked to stay there in autumn, using it as a hunting lodge.

Arnie had visited a few times with his parents. With his hands behind his back, Elaby followed him from room to room. After searching for a long time, they didn’t find any scenes of evil plotting but managed to work up a sweat.

“Young Master, how about we have a drink in the shade?” Elaby suggested. “It’s too hot today. You might get heatstroke.”

Arnie pouted.

Elaby said, “I was afraid you might get bored, so I brought Oscar along before we set off.”

Hm?

Arnie turned his head, still not speaking, but his slightly raised face clearly expressed, “I’m interested, keep talking.”

Last night, Oscar had told him another story—not strictly a story, but more like a biography of his personal idol, the alchemy master Karachi’s youth.

Oscar had a magical ability to make any story captivating. Arnie enjoyed listening to Oscar speak and deeply suspected that even the driest ancient texts would become interesting if Oscar taught them, more so than the “renowned” scholar of ancient literature at the castle.

“He and the others are in the outer pavilion. I’ve asked Maria to bring iced drinks and cookies. How about we invite Oscar over for a chat?”

Arnie forgot about his scouting mission and let Elaby lead him to the back garden. At the edge of the woods was a small gazebo, and indeed, a double swing had been set up. However, the sun was too hot, and no one wanted to use it.

Oscar arrived with Alfred. Elaby returned to accompany Priscilla, leaving them to entertain Arnie.

Alfred, who was unmarried and had watched Arnie grow up, almost considered him his own son. He naturally switched from a roguish young man to a doting father figure, trying to make Arnie eat. Arnie wasn’t amused by his antics, but Charlie found it hilarious.

“Not eating will stunt your growth,” Alfred said, pretending to be stern. “You didn’t finish your lunch, did you? You always do this in hot weather—do you know the kids in the reserves your age are already up to my chest?”

“Only children who are six years old and have their parents’ consent can participate in the selection. I am five,” Arnie calmly replied.

Alfred: “…Sometimes we aren’t that strict with age limits. Eating more will help you grow faster, so have another cookie.”

Charlie couldn’t tell the worried Alfred that he was overthinking it. Little Arnie might be small now, but he would start growing rapidly during puberty and continue until he was eighteen, needing new sleeves and pants almost every month.

Arnie wasn’t interested in snacks. He turned to Charlie and said, “Tell me another story about the flying man.”

Charlie withdrew his gaze and teased him, “If I tell you now, there won’t be any stories left for tonight.”

Arnie was hearing this for the first time. “Why?”

“Because…” Charlie was about to lie that it was Priscilla’s rule, but he paused. Alfred almost immediately noticed his change in expression and looked around.

The two adults exchanged a quick glance. Charlie seriously told Arnie, “Because I only have a hundred stories. If I tell you one a day, you can listen for three months. If I tell you three a day, you’ll only have stories for a month. Which do you choose?”

Arnie didn’t answer but instead curiously tilted his head to look past Charlie at the maple forest behind him.

When Charlie spoke just now, Arnie had felt as if he was being watched.

Alfred was one of the few who knew about Arnie’s keen senses. He stood up and said, “I’ll go check it out. I haven’t been here in months. There might be some wild animals.”

He looked meaningfully at Charlie. “Can you take care of the Young Master for a while?”

Anyone who passed Elaby’s inspection and questioning to enter Brandenburg was at least clear of background and physical checks—they had ways to screen out people with bad intentions, so Oscar was “theoretically” trustworthy.

But Oscar had detected something amiss in the surroundings even faster than Alfred, a seasoned warrior. Alfred felt that this man wasn’t simple.

Charlie didn’t hesitate. “I swear his safety is more important than my life.”

Alfred nodded, said no more, and quickly walked along the path into the woods.

Sitting on the bench, Arnie suspiciously asked, “What are you talking about?”

“Alfred temporarily handed over his guard duty to me, Young Master,” Charlie said with a smile. “I’m not as good at fighting as he is, so for our safety, let’s head back inside.”

“You think there’s something in the woods.” Arnie suddenly remembered Priscilla’s scouting mission and perked up. “There are guards all around the guest house. It’s hard for outsiders to sneak in—it must be Alger.”

“Uncle Alger,” Charlie reminded him.

Arnie rolled his eyes at him, climbed down from the bench, grabbed a handful of candies from the table, and stuffed them into his pocket. “We’re going too.”

Charlie tried to persuade him. “Alfred is just worried about wild animals. If we follow, we’ll only get in the way.”

Actually, the feeling Charlie had earlier was very faint, almost a fleeting sensation. He had sensed an unusual magical fluctuation, like a dragonfly skimming the water, creating ripples that were barely noticeable.

Arnie’s large, beautiful eyes stared at him for a moment before he declared, “You’re lying.”

…So this near-mind-reading ability was innate.

Charlie couldn’t help but laugh. He thought that the future Duke Dwight he met years later had restrained himself somewhat, at least not being as straightforward and terrifying as he was at five.

Arnie’s decisive action also hadn’t changed. He didn’t wait for Charlie’s response, simply announcing his decision and walking into the woods.

Charlie rubbed his hands behind him.

Whether or not there was something in the woods, the magical fluctuation had come from that direction. He couldn’t let Arnie rush in recklessly.

Unlike those who obeyed the Young Master’s every whim, Charlie quickly caught up, intending to carry him back.

But just as he reached out, Arnie suddenly sprinted—despite his short legs, he moved quickly.

Does he have eyes on the back of his head?

Caught off guard, Charlie watched the defiant child run into the woods. He had no choice but to follow.

“Young Master!” Charlie had long legs, but Arnie was smart, avoiding the forest paths and darting around like a squirrel, making it hard for Charlie to catch him. He tried to persuade him, “Don’t run so fast. I’ll go with you.”

Arnie didn’t look back.

Charlie continued the chase, pulling out a glass vial from his pocket. Popping the cork with a “pop,” an invisible shadow flew out, carried by the wind, making a slicing sound as it chased after Arnie.

The boy turned, seeing nothing. Kids this age struggled to multitask. Distracted, he tripped and fell.

Fortunately, the ground was covered in thick leaves. Charlie caught up, picking him up.

Arnie was a bit angry, kicking his legs, but then saw Oscar making a “shush” gesture.

“There’s someone nearby,” he whispered, covering Arnie’s mouth. “But it’s not Alfred.”

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