Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

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Chapter 203

“I came to ask if you’d like to see the butterflies,” Wind asked Arnie with a smile. “The butterflies here are different from those elsewhere.”

Arnie looked at him skeptically. They had just recently been denied permission to go for a walk, so why had the decision changed so quickly?

Wind seemed to understand Arnie’s thoughts just by looking at his expression and explained, “We didn’t restrict your movement on purpose. The forest’s climate is complex, and it was very humid recently. Unfamiliar people walking on the ground might easily fall into sinkholes. These past few days have been sunny, making the ground much safer. With someone accompanying you, nothing will happen.”

“Besides, staying in the house for too long is very boring, isn’t it?” he asked.

Of course, it was very boring. Oscar could tell fascinating stories, but he couldn’t talk all day long. Arnie, who had gotten so bored he started giving nicknames to the hawks frequently passing by the treehouse, thought for a moment and then stretched out his hand toward Charlie.

“I want to go,” he said confidently.

Wind rarely left the forest, but he had heard about some nobles’ behaviors and didn’t pay much attention to Arnie’s gesture.

Charlie knew that Arnie was actually worried he wouldn’t be included in the “butterfly-watching” plan and deliberately acted like a spoiled child who didn’t want to walk. So, he bent down and picked him up.

He had expected Wind to use his strange strength to put them back into a box again, but this time, there was a wicker basket hanging outside the threshold, tied with thick vines, one end looped over a higher branch—where another unfamiliar green-eyed person was sitting.

“Ya will hold the basket and slowly lower it,” Wind reassured Arnie. “He’s very strong. You won’t fall.”

Arnie wasn’t scared at all. If Charlie hadn’t been holding him, he probably would have hung himself on the edge of the basket.

The giant tree was so large that they felt like a few ants slowly crawling on the trunk. The trunk itself was full of strange and wonderful things: hidden bird nests (with glimpses of white objects inside, which Arnie guessed were young birds still without feathers), busy squirrels darting between branches, and various colorful epiphytic vines and thick moss hiding bright-colored beetles.

Charlie noticed different things. The trees here were unlike those in ordinary forests. The atmosphere was ancient and solemn. The rustling leaves in the breeze gave way to a sensation of standing on some enormous being’s chest, waiting for its slow breaths to manifest.

Arnie’s eyes were wide open, trying to take in all the scenery. There weren’t many chances to be this high in Lemena, and his mother and Priscilla were afraid of heights, never allowing him to climb the watchtower in Brandenburg.

Wind pointed out a direction to Arnie. “There’s a small waterfall over there, and the butterflies…” He stopped mid-sentence because Arnie wasn’t looking where he pointed but in the opposite direction.

“What’s over there?” Arnie asked, eyes fixed on that spot.

Charlie shifted him slightly upward. From their high vantage point, the area Arnie was looking at seemed like any other part of the dense tree canopy, but Charlie also felt it had a particularly refreshing appearance.

And he had always trusted his intuition. Though he had no evidence, he would bet a bottle of aged Vapolina wine that this was the only place in the settlement that contained magical elements.

And Wind’s expression confirmed this suspicion.

Wind didn’t immediately answer Arnie’s question because he suddenly remembered some of his tribe’s secret discussions.

Duke Dwight’s child looked more like an “elf” than they did.

This statement wasn’t because the child was beautiful—elves were indeed beautiful—but the fundamental trait of this race was their innate affinity with nature. Therefore, elves had always been associated with terms like “forest”, “healing”, and “planting” throughout history.

The forest favored this child. The fruit he picked would always be the sweetest one in the bowl. When he slept in the treehouse at night, the bothersome night wind would be blocked by the branches, leaving only a pleasant breeze gently flowing through the doors and windows. The wind couldn’t tell if he had a talent for planting, but it immediately noticed the most hidden place among their tribe…

“That is our forbidden area,” Wind said. “Sorry, not even our tribesmen can enter casually.”

Arnie responded with an “oh” and looked away.

Charlie, with his back to Wind, mouthed a few words to Arnie. “I know.”

Arnie blinked and then became happy again. When no one was around, Oscar would definitely tell him the secret of that place—Oscar knew everything!

Once Alfred rescued them, he would ask his father to let Oscar take care of him. Although Elaby was hardworking and just as gentle as Oscar, he was completely different from Oscar.

He felt that Oscar genuinely liked him—even when he was throwing a tantrum. This kind of unconditional acceptance, without any other emotions mixed in, he had only ever seen from his parents and sister.

Wind didn’t know what Charlie did, but Arnie’s non-persistent attitude surprised and relieved him.

The layer of fallen leaves under the trees didn’t seem as thick as those on the forest’s edge. Scattered treehouses hung between the trees, connected by delicate bridges. Even looking up from below made one feel uneasy, but those walking on them were accustomed to it.

Charlie noticed that not all the people here had green eyes, but most were well-proportioned and had beautiful features.

On the way, everyone seemed to know who they were. At most, a few people curiously glanced at Arnie, but no one approached them.

Arnie walked while looking up at the houses built in the trees. At his age, his head-to-body ratio was still not quite balanced, so when he looked up, his center of gravity shifted, making his walk precarious, prompting Wind to want to reach out and support him several times.

So, Spokesman Charlie softly asked why they built their houses in the trees.

Wind suddenly realized and explained, “The ground is too damp. It’s hard to guard against insects, snakes, and wild animals, and it easily floods when it rains. We have some ground houses, but they are usually used as warehouses, not for living.”

Arnie stopped looking up, and Charlie rubbed the back of his neck.

Someone was waiting for them under a tree. When the three approached, this person led out a few impressively large creatures: two horses and a beautiful deer.

Even the deer was as tall as Wind, with a small saddle on its back. Wind wanted Arnie to ride it, but Charlie immediately refused.

“The Young Master cannot ride any…” He chose his words carefully, “animals alone.”

Wind knew he was just a subordinate of the Dwight family and didn’t take his words seriously, so he asked Arnie, “Furnaya has a great temperament. Do you want to give it a try?”

Arnie shook off Charlie’s hand and let Wind lift him up—he had several ponies but wasn’t allowed to ride them until he turned seven, which had frustrated him for a long time.

Charlie crossed his arms, watching their movements. Wind gently lifted Arnie onto the deer’s back, but when Arnie stretched out his leg…

He couldn’t reach the stirrup.

He shifted and stretched his leg again.

His toes were still far from the stirrup, whether it was his left foot or right foot.

Wind: “…” He hadn’t anticipated this.

Furnaya was the gentlest deer and not particularly large. They thought they had arranged everything well, but for the size of Dwight’s son, it seemed a bit challenging.

Arnie stubbornly sat on the deer’s back, refusing to move. Seeing his expression, Wind couldn’t help but regret this hasty arrangement.

Would the child cry if he asked him to get down now? Ride with him? But the deer in the forest didn’t carry adults.

Charlie looked at them with a faint smile, saying nothing, even wanting to light a cigarette on the spot.

Arnie’s face turned redder, and Wind was at a loss, so he looked at Charlie.

Charlie regretted not having his pipe.

He stepped forward, flipped up Arnie’s cloak hood, which was made extra large, covering half of Arnie’s face.

Arnie, suddenly plunged into darkness, was startled. Before he could react, his body was lifted into the air, drawing an arc—then he sat down again.

He lifted his hood and found himself on a horse, at a height even more impressive than the deer.

“The higher you sit, the farther you can see,” Charlie said as he mounted the horse. Then he asked, “Isn’t that right?”

Arnie tugged at his hood without speaking, seeing Wind also mounted on a horse, leading the way ahead.

Though the deer lost its rider, it still carried water and provisions, so it followed behind them.

Strong deer occasionally ran through the forest, unafraid of people, sometimes stopping to curiously observe the visitors.

“We don’t hunt deer,” Wind said loudly. “Never—”

“Is the roast meat from wild boar?” Charlie asked back.

“Yes, wild boar needs to be controlled.” Wind’s posture on horseback was elegant, his long ponytail swinging behind him.

Arnie noticed some deer carrying people, mostly children, regardless of gender, all sporting the same hairstyle as Wind.

“I thought your eyes were all the same color.” Charlie also noticed the children.

Wind didn’t turn his head. “Green eyes are naturally faster, stronger, and more enduring than average tribesmen, but there are also warriors with brown eyes who are stronger than those with green eyes, so it’s just a symbol.”

He didn’t mention that the elders said green eyes were proof of a connection with the elves, but as the elves had been gone for longer, the number of green-eyed children had decreased with each generation.

Adding to that the lost treasure and the impending threat of Lemena’s relentless pursuit… Wind sighed silently.

All he could do was ensure the Young Master had a pleasant time here, so they could at least honestly say he was well-treated when facing the Duke’s wrath. Hopefully, this could save something. That’s all.

However, some tribesmen even fancied the idea that the Duke’s son was more suited to the forest—this child’s identity still had something to be explored.

Wind thought they were daydreaming. Regardless of the relationship between the Duke’s son and the forest, Duke Dwight would never allow his only son to live in the forest.

With the treasure still missing, they even dared to covet the child. Wind decided not to tell anyone about the Duke’s son identifying the forbidden area at a glance.

But he had a strange feeling that even if he didn’t mention it, Arnie might still have the chance to enter.

As he hung in the air staring at the forbidden area, who could know if “there” was also watching him?

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