Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

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Chapter 186

Charlie’s experience with “pain” was actually quite limited.

In his more than twenty years of life, he couldn’t say he had never been injured, but most incidents occurred under the strict surveillance of Lord Fahim in Fortuna City. Fahim considered their blood to be the ultimate taboo. There was an instance when a servant was severely reprimanded because he briefly looked away, and restless Charlie climbed a tree and scraped his palm. That very day, several caretakers were replaced.

During their exploratory childhood phase, it was nearly impossible to avoid bumps and scrapes, but the domineering Fahim managed to minimize any incidents involving blood. When Louis was prone to nosebleeds before the age of five, adults were even assigned to sleep with them to prevent any bleeding during sleep.

This upbringing led the brothers to view injuries and bleeding as more severe than death for a time.

However, this didn’t reduce their sensitivity to pain. After Charlie’s body instinctively stiffened for a moment, the pain immediately surged from his spine to the back of his head. His arm dropped, and the weakened Prima collapsed against him, rolling out of the magical array’s range as he moved his foot.

Seeing that his sword strike missed, Khalif intended to pull back, but Charlie lifted his leg and kicked. Although his brain registered the kick, his heavy body couldn’t keep up with his consciousness, causing him to stumble back two steps. Charlie then used his back to push open the door. By this time, Louis had arrived and reached out to grab him.

Charlie’s large, round rabbit eyes looked at Louis and suddenly grinned. Louis pressed his lips tightly together, stubbornly holding out his hand—but Charlie had no intention of responding. He didn’t even look back to see what was inside the door. He maintained his position, facing Louis, as he backed into the door.

“No!” Khalif roared, lunging forward, but Louis slammed into him. Both of them groaned from their injuries. Khalif refused to give up and reached for the door, but it closed firmly in front of him, the handle clicking back into place with a clear sound.

Sven fared slightly better than Khalif. He panted heavily, trying to shake off Nieman, but a mage’s physical strength was always a weakness. His helper, Xanye, had her neck snapped by Urch in the white mist, collapsing limply against the wall.

“Prima, right, Prima.” Khalif gasped heavily, turning to find his daughter, whom he had momentarily forgotten. He wanted to pull her up, but his body was already at its limit. Urch attempted to step forward but was blocked by McMullan.

McMullan and Vasilia had somehow ceased fighting. Urch looked surprised at McMullan, who was ready to fight.

“What are you doing?” Urch asked in confusion, looking at McMullan, then at Nieman, who had Sven under control.

“Don’t you understand yet?” McMullan said calmly, his gaze falling behind Urch, where Louis stood in front of Prima, blocking Khalif’s desperate gaze at her.

“It’s useless, Khalif,” Sven rasped. “You know each door can only be used once, hahahaha!”

His laugh was particularly unpleasant. Nieman frowned, took off his coat with one hand, and rolled it up to cover Sven’s face, muffling his laughter.

Khalif glared at Louis with hatred, but his sword had been taken by the rabbit-headed man. If he were barehanded—

Louis, unlike him, had no such concerns. Before Khalif could decide, Louis swung a punch at his face. Khalif felt as if a heavy hammer had struck his head, making the world spin as he collapsed, vomiting.

Seeing the fight, Urch seemed to remember something, his face darkening as he asked McMullan, “Is this your decision?”

McMullan didn’t answer. Instead, he drew a short, curved knife, revealing a weapon for the first time that night. During the encounters with Khalif and Vasilia, he had only used his fists—this was his way of respecting and…

…mourning his former comrade.

……

Charlie thought Khalif and Xanye’s “door” was, in some ways, a cunning, even sentient creation—perhaps because each door indeed absorbed a person.

However, he had never felt the doors’ temptation. Unlike Prima’s description of the light and whispers from the door cracks on the stairs, he had never encountered such things. Even now, having fully entered the door, it was pitch black inside, with no visibility of the interior.

Logically, being the first person to enter this new door, he should be the master of this space. The fact that neither Louis nor Khalif followed him confirmed this: only he could use this door.

Charlie clutched his wound and tried to brighten the space through meditation, verbal commands, and magical probing, but all efforts failed.

Perhaps it was because this was a semi-finished or failed product? The girl from the Lion family had activated the magic but didn’t complete it. Prima had added power, but it was interrupted after a portion was absorbed. Charlie thought that whatever this space behind the door was, it certainly wasn’t what Khalif had been expecting.

But that didn’t matter. He cautiously waited for a moment after entering, confirming that the spatial distortion he had sensed was suppressed. This was enough. Time and space were interconnected, and this door blocked the outside world. Even if the Lamp Bearers received some signal, it would have been fleeting and bewildering.

Charlie preferred to believe that those guys would think it was just false information, much like the fake Holy Grail created by Lestrop.

He sat down on the ground, took out various pills from his pocket, chewed and swallowed a handful as if they were beans, and then gritted his teeth as he pulled out Khalif’s short sword.

Even someone as composed as the rabbit-headed shopkeeper couldn’t help but curl up in pain on the ground from the act. He hadn’t taken any anesthetics because he needed to stay alert without any help around.

He couldn’t afford to roll around in pain for too long either. To prevent accidental injury, he always carried a fast-acting hemostatic agent—a sticky herbal paste that worked like strong glue to seal the wound.

Khalif’s sword also had some of his blood on it (this was why he didn’t let Khalif pull it out earlier). In the dark, Charlie meticulously wiped the sword several times with a handkerchief, then folded the handkerchief and put it back in his pocket.

Burning it would be the safest option, but it seemed that magic couldn’t be used inside the “door,” and he didn’t have a fire starter, so he had to keep the blood-stained items on him for now.

Without fire, there was no light. Charlie lay on the ground for a while until his eyes fully adjusted to the darkness, but he still couldn’t tell where he was. Finally, he resorted to feeling around with his hands.

The floor beneath him was soft. Due to the pain, he didn’t pay much attention and initially thought it was carpet. But touching it now, it felt like extremely soft grass—like the freshest, tenderest spring grass that even a baby could sit on without getting pricked.

How could there be grass indoors? Or did this door create a simulated outdoor environment? Charlie sat up on his knees and slowly explored the area bit by bit. The walls were rough, with some splinters and a wooden smell, occasionally encountering a snail that would fall off the wall when touched. The ceiling was quite high, beyond his reach even with arms extended. The walls were curved, and if there were a layer of fallen leaves underfoot, he would think he was in a bear’s den.

But bear dens certainly didn’t have doors.

Eventually, he felt a familiar door frame and panel on the wall, without a glowing magical array but with a small door handle.

Charlie didn’t think much and placed his hand on it. He had a premonition that even if he opened the door, the outside would likely not be Khalif’s damp basement.

Even if it was, he had already stopped the bleeding, and as long as he burned all his blood-stained clothes immediately, there would be no problem.

Shiloh and Eugene always mistakenly thought the rabbit-headed shopkeeper was a man of foresight, but in reality, he usually acted first and then thought things through, going with the flow.

Charlie found the handle to be heavy. He applied more force, pressed down the handle, and then pushed the door open…

Charlie: “?!”

He had clearly opened a door set in the wall, not a trapdoor on the floor! So why did he fall out of the door the moment he opened it???

A sudden gust of wind blew his rabbit fur into disarray. Before he could figure out what was happening, he splashed into the water.

After air, water? Instinctively, Charlie tightened his limbs and adjusted his posture, trying to swim up, but the current was too fast. After two attempts nearly made him sink, he gave up struggling, held his breath, and floated on the surface like a log, letting the water carry him along.

Turning his head in the water, he saw the rapidly passing trees on the shore, moss-covered rocks, and deer drinking by the water. The deer seemed startled by Charlie, daintily running back into the forest on their slender legs.

Amidst the sound of rushing water were other noises, like bird calls and the faint sound of a harp—it had to be a forest nymph playing.

A forest with fairies wouldn’t have dangerous evils, so Charlie relaxed and let the river carry him downstream. The rushing river gradually calmed down, eventually wedging him between two large logs in a bend.

The logs were wet and slippery but provided some support. Charlie clung to a log, catching his breath, and immediately checked the handkerchief and clothes around his wound.

After being soaked in water for a long time and with the strong current, most of the bloodstains had washed away, and the scent of blood was gone. He wiped his wet face and squeezed his long ears, wringing out some water.

Confirming he hadn’t become younger or older, it seemed Khalif’s magic had ultimately failed.

Charlie walked on the giant logs to the shore, feeling famished. In the forest, food wasn’t a concern, and with a river nearby, he could at least drink to fill up. However, he urgently needed to know where he was and how to get back.

White Bridge certainly didn’t have such large rivers and forests. Charlie’s attempt to summon the Darby Belly Fish also failed. Magic was still usable, but the seeking spell didn’t work over long distances.

For now, his best option was to follow the river out of the forest and look for villages nearby. Hopefully, the locals wouldn’t overreact to his rabbit head… Though used to it, the exhausted rabbit-headed shopkeeper sighed.

The wet head was uncomfortable, and the waterlogged clothes were heavy. Charlie shook his head and started taking off his clothes to wring them out.

While removing his coat, something small fell out of his chest pocket.

Charlie rarely kept anything other than decorations in his coat’s front pocket, believing useful items belonged in the inner pocket. He squatted down and saw a ring lying on the ground.

It was the key to Daisy’s castle, the one he had given to Dwight.

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The author has something to say:

But Dwight didn’t seem to expect an answer. He suddenly raised his hand to push Charlie away.

—Chapter 176

I can say that the initial inspiration for the previous hundred or so chapters came from the sudden idea of writing a scene where a rabbit falls into a hole, inspired by the rabbit in “Alice in Wonderland”.

Though it took over 600,000 words (and counting) to set up this scene, I didn’t expect it myself.

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<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

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Chapter 185

Magic wasn’t impossible to merge. Charlie had once used his power to rebuild the entire spatial magic of Mistress Daisy’s castle, long imprisoning Witch Elena within it. However, this was on the premise that he had completely dismantled the original magical structure and rebuilt the magic based on its framework.

The magic designed by Xanye, or Sven, for Khalif was undoubtedly complex, and Charlie certainly didn’t intend to have a friendly exchange with their work. As he explained to Prima, the more intricate something was, the easier it was to destroy. His key was akin to a foreign stone deliberately jammed into the gears. If operated correctly, it could incapacitate the entire machine—that was his goal.

Prima was almost forced by Khalif to stand in front of the door. It was unknown if the door was specifically created for Prima, but its appearance could be described as lovely and exquisite: smooth oak panels with beautiful wood grain, a door frame with flowing lines, and a small archway that looked like a hunter’s hut in the forest. If a small bouquet of yellow wildflowers were placed on the door, no one would doubt that a beautiful farm girl lived inside, sitting by the sunny window, singing while spinning wool.

But at this moment, the door appeared somewhat dim against the magical array on its surface, and Prima’s eyelashes fluttered.

“Open the door, Prima,” Khalif urged again. “For me.”

Vasilia couldn’t help but step forward. Urch immediately stepped between her and Prima and Khalif. This loyal servant always remembered his mission and stood his ground.

Sven leaned forward involuntarily, staring unblinkingly at Prima. Although Xanye had no external injuries, her spirit was sluggish—a far cry from her usual arrogant demeanor.

For some reason, Prima’s mood gradually calmed down. She moved a little closer and felt someone speaking behind the door for the second time—this time, the voice wasn’t as vague as the door on the stairs. Although the voice was still as light as a feather floating on the water, this time Prima could hear it clearly.

“My daughter, my little moon, my Prima.”

“Let me see you. Your hair color is just like mine. I saved the best ribbons for you…”

Prima’s nose suddenly tingled because it was clearly her mother’s voice.

Her mother was also a gentle woman, and Prima had never seen her scold anyone loudly. She seemed incapable of anger—the rare times she insisted were when she decided to leave White Bridge and persuaded Prima to go with her.

But why didn’t she go with her? Prima felt genuine regret. No matter how hard she thought about it, she could never have predicted that in her biological father’s eyes, she was no different from a bag of fertilizer. He saw no one but himself, and he despised all life outside of himself.

“Mother.” Prima’s lips moved. Khalif didn’t hear what she said, but he saw Prima’s expression relax, as if she had given up resistance, her shoulders and neck slumping.

Then her body jolted, and she looked up as if waking from a dream.

The small brass key she had been holding was heating up intensely, almost burning her, but it was this scorching sensation that woke her from the drowsiness she had just felt. Her mother was on an island hundreds of miles away from White Bridge, and it was impossible for her to be calling from behind the door.

She would never lure her daughter into danger!

Prima stepped back, raised her hand, and forcefully inserted the key into the lock. The magical array began to flicker with her action. Khalif was completely unprepared for Prima’s move. He didn’t even know where she had gotten such a magical item and instinctively reached out to stop her, but someone was faster than him. A yellow-brown shadow darted like lightning between several people, straight towards Prima.

Prima cried out in pain and instinctively let go—a small monkey had bitten her hand holding the key. Now it was dangling in mid-air due to her movement, but she showed no fear of humans. Blood dripped from its teeth onto the floor.

Xanye and Sven followed. The delicate woman swiftly lunged at Urch, throwing a handful of powder at him. Urch blocked with one hand but reflexively swung a punch at Sven, who had also rushed forward, accurately despite his closed eyes. The hunched old man dodged with surprising agility, moving at a speed that belied his age.

Vasilia, however, moved in the opposite direction. The moment the small monkey leapt out, she also acted but aimed at Charlie, who had been on guard against her. With most of his attention on Prima, Charlie saw Vasilia coming and knew she must have been suspicious of his motives for a long time.

Charlie knew that while he could handle ordinary people, against opponents like Vasilia or Urch who didn’t use magic, surrendering or fleeing was wiser than facing them head-on.

Even attacking magic needed activation and reaction time, which was why mages never appeared on the front lines of a battlefield. Moreover, although he had grown up, the relentless intimidation from Fahim during his childhood was ingrained in his bones, making it impossible for him not to fear the Lions. He could put on a brave front in front of someone like Sasha, who was clearly still a child, but faced with a truly intimidating killing machine like Vasilia, his instinct was to avoid her.

…If it were Louis, he might confront her head-on. That guy had a penchant for challenging himself, as evidenced by his dealings with both large and small groups of Lions. Louis would step on a landmine to overcome his fear.

Charlie sighed inwardly amid the chaos, quickly pulling out a long pipe from his pocket and taking a puff. Vasilia, in just two blinks, was almost upon him, reaching out her hand.

It was a grab, not a killing move.

But Charlie didn’t care what she intended. With a “whoosh,” he blew a cloud of smoke at her. It was strange. Although he had no time to light it, he blew out a whole cloud of smoke—not only enveloping Vasilia but also spreading to Khalif’s side.

Vasilia’s will was exceptionally strong. The instant the environment changed, her vision was blocked, but it didn’t deter her. She changed her target, her momentum undiminished. Fortunately, although Charlie lacked strength, he was agile enough to barely dodge her first move.

However, the underground space was limited, making it difficult to maneuver. With her intuition, Vasilia could predict Charlie’s dodging direction and was convinced that this strange rabbit-headed man must have a trick up his sleeve. Otherwise, how could he dodge so quickly without any surprise?

As Charlie sidestepped, he exhaled another large mouthful of smoke, avoiding Vasilia and running towards Prima. This smoke could temporarily blind a person’s hearing and vision, but it didn’t affect him. He had just heard Prima let out a short scream.

At that moment, a hand reached through the smoke towards him. Charlie only had time to glance back before that hand forcefully shoved him forward a couple of steps, followed closely by Vasilia’s dagger.

Vasilia, having just engaged the uninvited guest, recognized him from his moves. “McMullan!”

McMullan didn’t speak. Two others rushed past him, following Charlie’s silhouette into the white mist.

Prima’s right hand was bleeding profusely, but what made her scream wasn’t the wound but Sven, who had followed the monkey and rushed at her.

In her panic, she fumbled to grasp the key still inserted in the lock, twisting it haphazardly to try to insert it deeper—Mr. Charlie said that this key would stop the magic array due to magical repulsion, and the door’s temptation and restraint on her would disappear. At that moment, anyone could push open the door, but inside, it wouldn’t be what Khalif expected: no light, potion, or other strange magical effect to rejuvenate him. This scene would drive Khalif mad. If he insisted on going in despite reality, anything but rejuvenation could happen to him.

But at that moment, Khalif grabbed her hand with such force that Prima’s wrist went limp almost immediately, immense pain flooding her, but she didn’t cry out this time.

An untraceable white mist silently enveloped the entire space, growing thicker. Prima felt another person grab her. The sharp screech of a monkey sounded, and Prima was forcefully shoved, slamming into the door.

In close combat, Sven was no match for Khalif, but those who touched him would find that every inch of the old man’s skin was as hard and taut as iron. Khalif, empty-handed, could do nothing against him for the moment.

“Sven!” Khalif roared, trying to twist his neck, but one hand was still gripping Prima. Sven pressed Prima against the door, his face full of greed, looking very much like Khalif.

Prima struggled desperately. The wound on her hand continued to bleed, and a few drops smeared onto the magic array as she moved. Sven laughed heartily as the previously dimmed array began to glow again.

The light could penetrate the white mist, visible to all who should see it—Prima suddenly felt her limbs go cold, and a buzzing sound filled her ears.

“You’re still young, Khalif,” Sven, like a human-shaped rock, was unmoved by Khalif’s punches and kicks. He said sweetly, “Opportunities should belong to those with more desperate desires.”

The sound-blocking white mist kept Khalif from hearing this, but by now, if he didn’t understand Sven’s intent, his life was in vain. He had sent Xanye to Khalif’s side and helped him build this magic with the purpose of taking it for himself when it was complete. The head of the Monkey family was too old—so old that the other three families secretly called him the Immortal Old Tortoise.

But Sven was human, and humans always age and die.

Charlie could see Prima’s life force beginning to drain as Sven moved like a bug caught in a flytrap. Sven was forcefully restarting the magic with her blood.

Prima’s head grew dizzy, and she leaned against the door, feeling the world spin, barely able to stand. She immediately realized her mind was clouding and, holding her breath, began to fumble with her free hand. Above the keyhole, where the oak had been smooth, her hand touched a hard metal object.

“Prima, don’t touch it!” Charlie instinctively shouted, rushing over in three steps. Behind him were Louis and Nieman, who had been hiding on the stairs, waiting.

But Prima didn’t hear. Her blood loss made her trembling hand grip the door handle that appeared out of nowhere, pressing it down.

Khalif and Sven had to turn to avoid Louis and Nieman’s swords piercing their backs. Neither heard the click of the handle. Khalif let go of Prima’s hand, gripping his short sword with both hands. Sven, unwilling to lose control of Prima, huddled his shoulders and neck to make himself harder, but Nieman’s strength was absurd, pushing him back several steps.

Prima was the only one who couldn’t sense the killing intent or fight back. She barely had the strength to push the door. If not for embedding the goal of “opening the door” firmly in her mind, she would have collapsed long ago.

Charlie bent over, dodging Khalif and Sven as they dealt with Louis and Niemann, reaching to support Prima. Though she hadn’t pushed the door, the inertia of turning the handle made the door creak open slowly.

“Get out of the way!” Khalif’s eyes indeed turned red. Without hesitation, he turned and slashed with his sword, not caring about exposing his back to Louis. Although Sven caught a glimpse of the scene inside the door, the fearless Nieman, undeterred by his poison and thorn magic, held him tightly. Swen couldn’t move, and somehow, summoning great strength, he dragged Nieman straight toward the door.

“That’s mine—” Sven shouted, his voice losing its usual richness, filled with greed and rage.

“Charlie!” Louis shouted a warning about Khalif’s sword. Charlie heard the alert but found Prima collapsing, unconscious. If he let go, the girl leaning against the door would fall inside.

His only option was to twist his body, avoiding Khalif’s sword aimed at his neck, but holding Prima made it impossible to dodge entirely. The short sword mercilessly pierced his left shoulder, blood gushing from the wound.

Seeing that blurred red in the white mist, Louis’s eyes widened, a look of terror appearing on his face for the first time.

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<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

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Chapter 184

Prima’s face was paler than the bleeding Khalif. She looked at Khalif, lips trembling, unable to speak.

Khalif, however, didn’t look into her eyes. His attention was fixed on Charlie’s hand gripping her neck. Magic required complete, undamaged life force. He had just barely managed to use an injured assassin to activate the magic circle, but that was a reluctant compromise.

“Don’t listen to her nonsense, Prima,” Khalif said in a deep voice. “The enemy’s words are all divisive tricks, not worth hearing.”

He raised his left hand, four of his five fingers adorned with different rings. Some were ancient in design, others extremely ornate, all set with gemstones that still sparkled in the dim underground light.

Charlie was also watching him.

The thumb represented power, the index finger wealth, the middle finger justice, and the ring finger forgiveness. This was a tradition every Wolf knew—however, unlike other family heads of various sizes, the rings on Khalif’s hand symbolized not his personal wealth, but the accumulated history of the entire Wolf Family.

Khalif slid the gold ring off his index finger and flicked it with his right hand. The small gold circle arched up and landed in front of Charlie. He reached to catch it, loosening his grip on Prima. Urch, who had been watching closely, lunged forward, grabbed Prima, and pulled her away from Charlie.

Charlie’s fingers almost immediately changed direction, but Urch’s strength was immense, and Prima was nearly lifted away. The blade at Charlie’s fingertips cut Prima’s collar.

Prima, like a puppet, was handed over to Khalif by Urch. She sluggishly blinked, seemingly just realizing what had happened.

“Prima.” Khalif took a deep breath, trying to use a gentle tone as he took her hand—as if he needed to touch her personally to be reassured.

Sven and Xanye didn’t interfere with Urch, and surprisingly, neither did Vasilia. She stood where she was, coldly watching the father and daughter, seemingly interested in what they would do next.

Charlie didn’t move either.

He examined the gold ring carefully but didn’t immediately put it on. Urch, seeing his focused expression, narrowed his eyes.

“You can leave now,” Khalif said to Charlie in a deep voice.

Charlie shrugged, walked backward to the stairs, and then stopped. Leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, he stood next to a door that neither emitted light nor whispers. It simply existed in the wall, unremarkable, with a pendulum clock above it stopped at a quarter past three in the afternoon.

“Isn’t it enough that the young lady is safe?” He tilted his head mischievously. “Honestly, this magic is impressive. It must have taken a lot of manpower, right?”

He emphasized the word “manpower”.

“Father, is that true?” Prima asked softly. “What is that door? There are so many strange doors outside, and then…”

She turned to look at the girl by Vasilia’s feet. Even after all this time, the girl hadn’t moved, her body showing no signs of life, making Prima unable to ask, “Is she dead?”

“They are uninvited intruders,” Khalif said. “The four families have always been in a delicate and false balance. Haven’t I taught you that?”

“They’ve always eyed the Wolf Family covetously because our auction house is a golden goose. Tonight, the balance is broken, Prima. The other three families have united against us, trying to destroy the Wolf Family, they—”

Vasilia let out a loud, cold laugh.

Prima’s expression was dazed, and Khalif stroked her hair. “I am the head of the Wolf Family. I am the Wolf Family. If I am killed, the entire family will be destroyed. You are also a Wolf. You wouldn’t want to see that happen.”

Prima nodded almost imperceptibly.

Khalif breathed a sigh of relief inwardly, ignoring Vasilia, and continued, “Protecting me means protecting everything. The family needs a strong leader to fight them. I need power. You are a good child. Will you help your father?”

Everyone held their breath, waiting for Prima’s reaction, especially Sven and Xanye. They knew Khalif was using despicable means to deceive his daughter—the Wolf Family rarely had mages, and Prima had no magical talent or theoretical knowledge. She probably had no idea what Khalif was doing.

Just as one shouldn’t easily reveal one’s name to an evil entity to avoid being drawn into a contract, the same applied to promises. Words themselves had power, and their binding force was equal for both mages and non-mages.

This was something Xanye had previously told Khalif. Khalif believed that the Monkey family relied too much on magic and would become weak without magical power. Xanye, to refute this, had demonstrated how, in the right environment, even without using magic, one could achieve wishes through the power of words.

A relatively enclosed space, overflowing magical molecules, blood, and inquiry—Prima was indeed standing on the edge of Khalif’s trap without realizing it.

Everyone tensed up involuntarily, except Prima, who blinked and almost without thinking, said, “Yes, Father.”

As soon as she spoke, Khalif’s face lit up with joy, which scared her into stepping back. Vasilia couldn’t hide her disappointment. She didn’t know what she was expecting. Miss Prima Wolf was famously gentle, and Khalif had been generous to her for many years. It was only natural for her to instinctively agree with her parent when unsure of the situation.

But—

She looked down at Maria on the ground. This time, those who could come to White Bridge in the name of the Lion Family were among the most promising young members. They had different personalities, some cold as ice, some fiery as flames, but their abilities and potentials were comparable. In a few years, senior officials like her would be able to choose their successors from them, passing on their experience and will. But Maria no longer had this future. She had arrived too late. By the time she found out that several young members had recklessly made a deal with the Wolves, she had rushed over as quickly as possible but only managed to pull the dying Maria out of the magic circle and watch her take her last breath during the ensuing fight.

This wasn’t the girls’ fault, but the adults’. The young ones were too eager to explore the world, and before leaving, they had strongly insisted on traveling alone, ensuring in various ways that they wouldn’t cause trouble and that everyone would return home safely.

Vasilia had experienced such a youth, knowing how annoying it was to have adults hovering around during the age of longing for freedom. So the family head, along with several high-ranking members, including herself, decided to let them “travel alone” while Vasilia secretly watched over them.

It was a grave mistake. Two fists couldn’t fight four hands. Vasilia alone couldn’t quickly fend off Khalif’s minions and Sven’s men to rescue Maria. In the end, all she could do was prevent Maria from becoming part of that disgusting magic circle.

But someone was about to repeat this mistake.

Charlie glanced quickly at Vasilia without saying a word.

He somewhat expected Vasilia to stop Prima, not because this Lioness was particularly kind, but because Prima’s sacrifice would likely empower Khalif. If Khalif got what he wanted, the crazed old Wolf would surely find a way to kill everyone who witnessed his secret tonight.

Conversely, Vasilia definitely didn’t want Khalif to continue living. Even without the severe setbacks to the younger generation, an enemy who never aged (in a sense) posed a significant threat to the Lion Family.

This might also include the Monkey. Whether it was because they lost two people or not, the Monkey and Xanye were unusually low-key. If it weren’t for the two genuine corpses, they would really seem like mere bystanders.

“My dear daughter.” Khalif didn’t care what the others thought. He raised the hand still holding Prima’s and pulled her to the seemingly ordinary wooden door, its magic circle still glowing.

Prima instinctively began to struggle. “Father, how can I help you?”

But a young girl was no match for Khalif. His aging was relative. He might no longer be able to defeat a young man like Louis in a duel, but he had no trouble controlling Prima. Her pitiful resistance was nothing. Khalif, like Urch earlier, practically dragged her to the door.

“Touch it, Prima.” Khalif could hardly control his voice, his heavy breathing on Prima’s neck causing goosebumps to rise on her cut skin.

Prima felt like she was in a forest, with a bloodthirsty bear gripping her shoulder. Every cell in her body screamed to run, but—

She had already decided not to flee. The tug of war between reason and instinct made her tremble again, heightening the tension for Khalif and those closely watching, including Sven. They weren’t worried that Prima would back out. She had just made a promise to Khalif. Despite her instincts, she couldn’t escape.

“Magic is both simple and complex,” Charlie’s words echoed in Prima’s mind. “You can think of it as a precision instrument or a complex handcrafted item—creating and assembling it requires significant effort, but destroying it is simple.”

The odd rabbit-headed man had told her. “Rules aren’t always fair. The intricate creations of great geniuses or craftsmen with decades of experience can be shattered by any illiterate brute with a hammer. The more complex and delicate something is, the more fragile it becomes.”

“Time magic is one of the greatest taboos, not only because it might disregard the rules of life and death but also because meddling with history and the future can affect the real world. Therefore, from conception to experimentation, this magic must undergo extensive work. If the Monkey Family members excel at magic and have perfected it through past experiments, then what gives your father such confidence must be a complex and brilliant creation. The more complex, the more fragile.”

“I’m giving you this.”

He handed Prima a small, cold metal object.

“What is this?” Prima asked.

“This is a key,” Charlie said. “It contains my magic—mages are proud and exclusive, and their magic is the same. When you get close to Khalif’s magical core, it will heat up intensely due to the repulsion between the two types of magic.”

Every door had a corresponding key, the last trace left by the one who gave everything to the door. If the person Khalif brought in before you didn’t die, the key wouldn’t appear, and the magic wouldn’t start. Khalif would desperately need a replacement.

Remember, you must insert the key into the lock on the door before the magic circle starts absorbing your life force.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

---

Chapter 183

“Don’t touch,” Charlie said softly, reaching out to steady the unsteady Prima.

Prima withdrew her hand that was about to touch the wall.

This was the second time she had come down this stone staircase leading underground. Just like she remembered, it was cold and damp. Perhaps because it was built underground, the junction of the steps and the walls was covered with fuzzy moss, which looked even greener under the light from the fluorite.

There were more small stones or some unknown debris on the floor now, and Prima almost tripped over them.

Given that someone had recently rushed out of this passage engulfed in flames, she decided not to investigate what exactly was on the ground.

Charlie sensed her tension and moved a little faster to position himself in front of her, making Prima follow behind him.

He moved slowly, not only to match the pace of the exhausted Prima but also to carefully observe the various doors they passed.

As he had previously speculated, most of the doors near the exit were early experimental models. The doors, too small for an adult to pass through, used animal power as their medium. Some had only a doorframe or lacked handles and couldn’t be opened, indicating they were likely failures. The corresponding clock hands were all stationary.

Charlie hadn’t yet figured out the meaning of these clocks. The simplest understanding might be that they represented the length of time that could be reversed—for instance, the simple timer next to the pinewood door seemed to be a product from about five hundred years ago. If Khalif opened the door and walked inside, perhaps time would rewind five hundred years on him.

If this hypothesis were true, it would be quite entertaining.

Charlie nudged the pinewood door beside the timer with his pipe. The handle was very tight, suggesting it hadn’t been used.

As they descended about halfway, the size and shape of the doors gradually became normal. Some were tightly shut but had light seeping through the gaps at the bottom. Some were ajar, but the interiors weren’t visible. Only vague murmurs could be heard, as if someone inside was whispering…

Both Charlie and Prima slowed their steps. It was as if the inhabitants of the rooms knew someone was passing by, and the whispers grew slightly louder, yet the content remained indistinct.

Prima: “?”

The staircase was eerily quiet. She instinctively wanted to get closer to hear better because the voice sounded hoarse, like a sick woman, parched, needing someone to fetch her water.

But she couldn’t hear clearly. Prima looked at the door gap, and the warm yellow light inside contrasted sharply with the cold fluorite in the passage.

Prima reached out, intending to push the door slightly more open, thinking she wouldn’t step inside…

Charlie, who had been standing in front of her and seemed to be listening as well, quickly turned around and covered Prima’s eyes.

Her vision suddenly darkened, startling Prima, but not because of Charlie’s sudden action. It was because when her eyes were covered, her ears seemed to awaken, and the gentle whispers vanished, replaced by men’s roaring, indistinguishable heavy breathing, and eerie low laughter, all equally disturbing.

Prima gasped in horror, but Charlie also covered her mouth, then removed his hand from her eyes.

The previously peaceful and serene atmosphere felt like an illusion. From some point, the sounds from the end of the underground passage had become clear. Standing on the stone steps, they heard a woman say, “This is no excuse for your madness—”

“You’re the mad one!” Just from the voice, one could imagine Khalif’s enraged expression.

“Feigning high morals doesn’t suit you, Khalif,” another man said, his voice pleasant but inappropriately contemplative for the situation.

The blood vessels in Khalif’s eyes burst, red like a carnivorous beast’s. “Vasilia! Do you think you can walk out of here alive?”

Vasilia’s arm hung unnaturally, bloody from the shoulder down, making it unclear whether the blood was hers or someone else’s. A girl lay at her feet, her short black hair disheveled and unmoving.

Sven stood against the wall, seemingly the only one unscathed. Xanye was pale, and the young man who had come in with her sat at Sven’s feet. His neck was bent at an unnatural angle, an impossible posture for the living.

Urch stood between Vasilia and Khalif, his face ashen but his back straight.

Vasilia, experienced in combat, had been fighting both Urch and Sven’s subordinates. Urch, already injured, might have had his heart ripped out by Vasilia in the recent fight if not for her simultaneous battle with the two.

But Vasilia’s goal wasn’t slaughter. Despite being besieged, she managed to break through strongly and disrupt Khalif’s magical ritual.

All magic rituals, except combat spells that require no chanting, demand specific environments and materials. At a minimum, they must not be interrupted. Khalif had planned to find Prima and, once fully prepared, conduct the final attempt. Unexpectedly, Louis’s interference severely injured him. Instead of regaining his youth, he now urgently needed someone to help him sustain his life.

However, misfortune never came in singles. Several disruptors appeared tonight. Khalif was furious, wondering what the guards he left in the corridor were doing—he hoped they had died fighting Sven’s men, or he would kill them himself for dereliction of duty.

The only one who entered the underground with him, Urch, could barely hold off Sven and his grotesque monsters, but adding Vasilia to the mix was too much. The ongoing ritual was disrupted, and the girl, whose hair and fingers had already begun to decompose, was forcibly pulled out from the wall adorned with a magic circle by Vasilia. Although the “door” had already taken shape, the girl, who served as the foundation of the “door,” was removed. There had never been a similar situation in previous experiments, and although Khalif was anxious, he knew better than anyone how dangerous an unstable “door” could be.

“Dad?”

Just as he was staring daggers at Vasilia, thinking of ways to dismember her and hang her remains on the doorframe as decoration, a trembling voice startled him.

“Prima!” Khalif was stunned to see his daughter, who had been missing, now standing on the stairs leading to the exit. The surge of joy he felt momentarily made him overlook the strange rabbit-headed man standing beside Prima. That man, dressed in a dark suit, was half-shrouded in shadow and silent.

Sven and Vasilia turned to look at her almost simultaneously, but their expressions were vastly different. Vasilia wore a mocking smile, while Sven looked as if he had stumbled upon a rare gem in a mine.

Prima’s appearance subtly eased the tense standoff between the three parties. Khalif, cooling down from his heated state, frantically pondered how to bypass Vasilia and Sven to get Prima to his side, dismissing the unknown dark-haired girl completely.

The others were calmer than Khalif. No one, except Khalif, ignored the rabbit-headed man standing beside Prima. Sven asked, “Who are you?”

As soon as he spoke, Prima recognized it as the same voice she and Mr. Charlie had heard on the stairs. Sven’s voice was shockingly smooth, which was incongruent with his old and wrinkled appearance, making Prima shiver.

Charlie, seemingly reminded by Sven, pulled Prima forward a few steps to ensure they were both fully visible in the light. His right hand wrapped around the back of Prima’s neck, pressing a delicate and sharp blade against her chin.

“Just a nobody,” Charlie said theatrically, glancing around exaggeratedly. “Ah, what’s everyone up to?”

Khalif glared at him coldly, “What do you want?”

Prima’s identity was no secret in the inner city. While there had been attempts to extort the Wolf Family by kidnapping their daughters, most of these were from outsiders. Khalif couldn’t deny that the Monkey might have some designs on Prima, but seeing Sven’s reaction now, Khalif temporarily assumed this rogue was just another self-styled adventurer and opportunist.

However, Prima was indeed crucial to him at this moment. Additionally, what irritated Khalif was why even such a lowlife could infiltrate his territory. Even though the mansion was attacked earlier, those immature girls were defeated by McMullen and his men. It shouldn’t have been difficult to quickly regroup and fortify the defenses unless McMullen’s men dared to abandon their posts.

“That’s not the right question, sir,” Charlie said. “I just saw this young lady wandering alone at night and kindly decided to bring her home. You’re her father, and with such an impressive mansion, surely you wouldn’t ignore a poor soul who helped your daughter, right?”

“Dad,” Prima called again, her eyes pleading.

“I can give you endless wealth,” Khalif said. “As long as you’re smart enough to know when to stop. Come here, Prima.”

“Of course, of course.” Charlie didn’t relax his grip on Prima but spoke lightly. As he moved Prima closer to Khalif (taking a wide arc away from Vasilia), his large, round rabbit eyes darted around. When he saw the small, arched door behind Khalif and the still-glowing magic circle on it, he stopped.

Glowing was a characteristic of all magic circles. Regardless of the material used to inscribe the array and formula, once magic power was infused to make it functional, every trace would glow during operation. It’s said that in the early days of ancient magic, most rituals were conducted in secret and dark spaces to avoid detection. This feature allowed mages to avoid writing the wrong symbols, even in the dark.

To Khalif, the faint glow of this magic circle might have been weak enough to mistake it for mere reflective paint. But to Charlie and Sven, the complex magic circle shone as brightly as an out-of-control miner’s lamp.

Charlie’s furry rabbit face displayed a difficult-to-read expression. He then glanced at the motionless girl at Vasilia’s feet.

“Ah, a mage,” Vasilia said. “No wonder you’re like an old mole, only daring to dig holes underground, Khalif. It’s because someone skilled in magic can see through your dirty dealings at a glance.”

She spoke arrogantly, lifting her chin to Prima. “You’re Khalif’s daughter, but his lover is hiding in the corner. I assume your mother isn’t around. Let me teach you something, little girl. Men aren’t to be trusted, especially not men like your father.”

“The magic behind you devours people. The girl beside me is proof. In this situation tonight, instead of helping you escape, he summoned you to his side. Do you really think he just wants to give you a hug?”

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

---

Chapter 182

But she didn’t rashly call out Louis’s name. This once privileged and naive young lady seemed to have matured overnight. Though she couldn’t hide her excitement, her actions were much more restrained compared to before.

“What is this?!” The squad leader, only now noticing the charred corpse curled up on the carpet due to the dim light, realized it had been burned to death, the air filled with a burnt stench.

“The Monkey’s magic,” Louis said coldly. “They are currently inside—”

“With Lord Khalif?” The loyal squad leader’s expression changed, staring directly at Louis. Though he was outgoing and straightforward, he wasn’t a fool. If Khalif and the Monkeys had a deadly conflict in this mansion, why were Louis and McMullen’s team, responsible for the city’s security and Khalif’s personal safety, standing here so calmly?

“The underground is off-limits,” Nieman timely interjected. “You know the rule better than anyone. This guy ran out from there.”

This somewhat alleviated the squad leader’s doubts, as Nieman spoke the truth. Serving the Wolf Family for so many years, even Louis and the other Elders typically couldn’t access the basement or the corridor leading to it.

Recalling the grim fates of those who approached the forbidden area without permission, the squad leader hesitated. No one wanted to face Khalif’s unpredictable wrath, especially after the huge auction incident. Any displeasure could not only cost their positions but also their lives.

Prima glanced at Charlie and then said, “Do we have to chat here? Please, get that horrifying thing out. I’m going to be sick.”

Her face was pale, and her tone was unusually different, appearing genuinely on the verge of collapse. A charred corpse wasn’t something a girl like her could handle calmly. McMullen stepped forward, speaking calmly, asking them to help move the corpse out.

“Miss Prima shouldn’t be affected by such things, and Lord Khalif wouldn’t want it on the carpet,” McMullen said. “We’re following the Lord’s orders by staying here, but you shouldn’t take another step forward.”

The Wolf Family knew McMullen and Nieman as Khalif’s silent yet formidable attendants. This strong impression meant that, in Khalif’s absence, they instinctively treated McMullen’s words as Khalif’s will.

“You can guard outside the house,” Nieman added. “The Lord is busy now, but he’ll surely reward those loyal and capable when he sees Miss Prima.”

This was true. Most armed forces were battling in the inner city against the suddenly united poor, so even if McMullen wanted to take credit, they couldn’t. Staying within summoning range was their only option, and Khalif would want to know why they were more capable than other squads.

But…

“Miss Prima needs rest, and we’ll handle this suspicious guy,” the squad leader said, eyeing Charlie.

Charlie shrugged, but before he could speak, Prima protested, “No. He stays.”

The squad leader was troubled, but his men holding Charlie wouldn’t budge.

Louis, not showing his torn and blood-stained clothes, stepped forward and said coldly, “That’s beyond your authority.”

The squad leader cursed inwardly, thinking Louis was trying to take credit, but he was right. Khalif’s order was to find Prima, and handling inner city unrest was always Louis’s job. Even if they captured a suspected terrorist, Louis had the authority to demand the handover if it was related to the auction attack.

McMullen’s and Nieman’s expressions remained unchanged. Only they knew that Khalif had fallen out with Louis a few days ago. However, due to the secrecy surrounding the Holy Grail, Khalif hadn’t disclosed this matter. Moreover, with several Elders meeting unfortunate accidents, Louis’s sudden departure and disappearance weren’t widely suspected as rebellion.

Rank pressure worked, and Prima and Charlie stayed in the house, though they insisted on keeping Charlie bound. The squad took the charred corpse out.

Prima didn’t trust McMullen, glancing out the window to see the exits guarded.

Louis untied Charlie, noting the harsh treatment that left deep marks and disheveled clothes.

McMullen and the others recognized Charlie and Prima’s connection. Although Neiman was anxious, he refrained from rushing them. The first squad blocked the doors, with more unsuccessful teams to follow. Despite their strength, breaking through wasn’t wise.

Charlie looked past Louis’s shoulder but saw only a brightly lit corridor and chaotic magic elements.

Louis turned his face, saying, “You and Prima shouldn’t be here.” The Holy Grail and Khalif’s perfect experimental subject shouldn’t have come.

“But—” Prima started.

“No buts. You two are the last people who should be here tonight.” Louis’s tone was stern as he looked at Charlie. “Listen, you—”

Prima interrupted, “I’m here for a reason! Not to cause trouble.”

Louis was somewhat surprised by her words. This was the first time Prima had spoken to him in such a firm, even somewhat forceful tone. In their past interactions, this girl, officially recognized as Khalif’s most beloved, had always been shy and apprehensive, speaking gently, never losing her temper. Her most common behavior in front of Louis was worrying about whether her hair ribbon matched her dress and if her manners were appropriate, fearing she might annoy him.

Not only was her tone different, but tonight Prima also looked very unlike her usual meticulous self. Her hair was a bit messy, she wore a coat of average material and cut, her lips were dry, and she looked exhausted.

“Alright,” Louis said. “What are you here for? If Charlie hasn’t told you the important things.”

“Mr. Charlie told me a lot,” Prima said, glancing warily at the imposing McMullen. “I-We, um… have a plan.”

“What plan?”

“I’ll confront my father directly,” Prima said. “I can’t hide forever, so I’ll take the initiative.”

Louis couldn’t believe Charlie had influenced Prima so quickly. He glared at Charlie. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

He could roughly guess what Charlie wanted to do. If it weren’t necessary to hide his identity, Charlie’s magical talent would have made him as famous as an astrologer on the continent.

Khalif and the Monkey’s magical system might have been complex enough to take years of debugging to achieve its current results, but this was where the difference between a genius and an ordinary person lay—this was Charlie’s field. He might be confident enough to find a flaw in the magic in a short time, allowing Prima, the only one who could approach the magical core without suspicion, to destroy everything from the inside. But honestly, this method was too dangerous, undoubtedly dancing on the edge of a knife.

And the executor of this plan was Prima? This wasn’t his style at all.

“It was my suggestion.” Prima, small in stature, couldn’t intervene in the momentum of the two brothers, almost jumping up in anxiety. “I proposed this idea and asked Mr. Charlie to honestly tell me if I could do it.”

If this time magic were likened to an industrial machine, Prima knew she was the key component her father had carefully prepared, the one most compatible with the main body. Installing her would make the machine operate according to his intentions.

But what if the component changed? What if the part no longer fit perfectly, instead becoming larger or smaller?

The machine would most likely fail to start. Khalif had already turned against Xanye, and if he lost Prima too, it would be extremely difficult to restart the project in a short time.

This thought had been vaguely forming in her mind for a while, and after seeing Mr. Charlie skillfully use magic, she suddenly realized this was an opportunity.

Prima could no longer express in words her opposition to what Khalif had done. She was utterly disappointed with his ambition and cold ruthlessness because she had always told herself that her father had flaws, was occasionally biased in his actions, but loved his daughter. He just couldn’t face reality as he aged, becoming increasingly extreme.

Until she learned that she had been living in a long-standing conspiracy. While she wore her pajamas and combed her hair, happily thinking about which street to shop on tomorrow, innocent people were being dragged into the basement only three floors below her to become sacrifices for the so-called time-reversal magic. Fear and anger made her tremble all over. She never imagined she would one day so eagerly oppose her father and destroy his evil plan that shouldn’t have existed.

When she was always with Priscilla, she had no time to seriously consider this, but after leaving that building, she repeatedly saw people from the inner city and Paradise Island at odds. Realizing that her innocent and carefree early life was like a flower blooming on a fertilizer of corpses, this idea became clearer and more urgent with each step, so urgent that she didn’t want to wait another minute.

Charlie had to explain, “Miss Prima’s wish was too strong. I couldn’t ignore such willpower. As someone who hasn’t learned magic, she almost summoned other entities with her willpower. So I intercepted her desperate vow and made a deal with her in advance.”

Such situations were rare, but not without precedent. When humans burst with intense emotions, “miracles” were most likely to happen. However, most “miracles” were actually evil forces lurking in the shadows feeding on them. They were most willing to make such sacrificial, unfair deals because, in the case of unequal power, twisting human wishes was easy.

For example, a desperate mother who lost her child might start such a deal, willing to exchange her soul for her dead child’s resurrection. The other party, after receiving the “payment”, might let the child, who has long been buried in the grave, crawl out of the soil in a half-decomposed state. The only outcome would be being purified by a mage and dying again—this time, the mother who lost both her soul and life would no longer be able to make a wish.

It should be said that Prima and Khalif indeed share the same bloodline. She inherited part of Khalif’s stubborn personality. When she made up her mind, this thought almost attracted evil covetousness, and Charlie took the lead in agreeing to help her.

Louis let go of Charlie’s shoulder. As Charlie said, when Prima’s personal will is so strong, it deserves respect regardless of others’ approval.

But his lowered hand was grabbed by Charlie, who turned his furry rabbit head and looked at him in the candlelight. “You don’t look right.”

Before Louis could struggle, Charlie agilely circled him, immediately discovering the hole in his clothes and the blood-stained fabric.

“You really came for a fight!” Charlie’s ears twitched, and now it was his turn to glare at Louis. “What’s with the injury?”

The rabbit-headed shopkeeper, familiar with external injuries, quickly lifted Louis’ coat and relaxed only after seeing the treated wound.

Louis held his hand, a bit helpless. “Is this the point?” He had been injured and bled, but it didn’t cause any spatial fluctuations to alert the Lamp Bearers. It was no longer a secret who was the Holy Grail.

“Of course.” The twins’ tacit understanding made Charlie immediately understand what Louis meant, and he said without hesitation, “I’ve always known what’s truly important.”

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

---

Chapter 181

“While they’re busy fighting like dogs, we should…” Nieman pulled open the door, only to find that Louis, who was originally unconscious, had woken up at some point. Nieman was taken aback upon meeting his gaze, remembering that he was the one responsible for putting Louis there in the first place.

After all, if they hadn’t intervened earlier, the exhausted Khalif would likely have been defeated by Louis.

It was a bit awkward.

Nieman coughed and stepped aside to make room for McMullan—who, despite not being talkative, was always pushed to be the spokesperson. This time was no exception.

Louis remained lying down, although he was still wary of the group. In his current weakened state, he didn’t want to waste unnecessary energy and decided to remain silent and observe.

McMullan wasn’t a great orator, but he never exaggerated or lied. Coupled with his usual calm demeanor, he was more persuasive than the other two. He succinctly explained the situation (skipping over the parts about Sven and Vasilia) and suggested taking Louis away from there. After all, Louis was injured, Khalif was blindly arrogant, Sven had ulterior motives, and Vasilia was aggressively coming. It wouldn’t benefit anyone to get involved.

Louis found their explanation absurd. What was this nonsense about judges? He had never heard of such a ridiculous concept. If defeating Khalif in a one-on-one fight could replace him, then ten years ago, when Khalif’s physical condition declined, someone should have broken his neck and taken the head position. How could Khalif have been messing around with dark magic until now?

Even with McMullan and the others backing him, few dared to challenge Khalif directly. Earlier, Khalif, overwhelmed by emotions, had (questionably) asked for a one-on-one fight with Louis, which Louis found equally absurd.

Besides, which one of them thought he was challenging Khalif for control of the Wolf Family?

Louis didn’t respond. He slowly sat up, causing the small bird perched on his collarbone to lose its balance and tumble down, only to be caught by him.

Normally, the Gray Sentinel would either fly back to the sender or turn back into a paper bird after delivering the message. However, this one remained fluffy and showed no intention of moving on, even shaking its body and opening its little beak proudly once held.

“Geo—” Louis noticed it was about to call out and quickly pinched its beak shut, stuffing it into his coat pocket.

McMullan and the others seemed completely oblivious to the peculiar interaction between Louis and the bird. They only moved closer when he attempted to get off the sofa, though they refrained from helping as Louis’s expression was unfriendly.

…Partially because the pain from his wounds made his face look grim.

Nieman was a bit surprised. Though Louis always clashed with Khalif, he didn’t think any Wolf would refuse power when it was handed to them. One of the reasons Louis always wore a sullen face during meetings was his disdain for Khalif.

“Where are you going?” Ham asked as he saw Louis heading towards the door.

Louis didn’t answer. Although Nieman had used a hemostatic powder while bandaging him, which worked well, the effects of blood loss couldn’t be quickly reversed. He still felt dizzy and weak, as if speaking would make him vomit his guts out.

This condition was certainly not suited for causing trouble, but since Charlie’s bird had come here, it meant Charlie was looking for him. Louis didn’t know how long he had been unconscious, and Charlie could show up at any moment.

He absolutely couldn’t let Charlie and Khalif meet.

Louis carefully controlled his breathing, trying to ignore the burning sensation from his throat to his insides as he inhaled. The smoking room was only a few steps from the entrance to the underground passage. From their position, the unusually bright light inside, which seemed to be from an excessive number of candles and lamps, almost made it look like a raging fire if not for the lack of smoke and heat.

He stood there for a moment, considering the feasibility of setting a fire and blocking the entrance.

This wouldn’t only get rid of the nuisance Khalif but also completely destroy his bizarre time magic. Suddenly, his pocket moved. The little bird inside was struggling for some reason, and Louis, coming back to his senses, glanced at McMullan and the others.

Unbeknownst to him, Ham had a similar thought but wondered if it was too rash to order them to kill and set fires after just declaring he wouldn’t acknowledge or accept their judgment. But the opportunity was rare…

Just as Louis was about to speak, a genderless, piercing scream came from the underground corridor. It was terrifying, sharper and more painful than the cries of five witches together, torturing anyone who heard it.

Everyone was startled. McMullan, closest to Louis, disregarded his resistance and stepped in front of him. Panic-stricken footsteps echoed from the corridor as the screams approached. They instinctively cleared a path, and a burning figure frantically rushed out. But as he reached the entrance hall, the abundant oxygen outside intensified the flames, and he collapsed face-first due to his severe injuries.

The flames on this person were peculiar. Although his clothes, hair, and skin were burning away, the wool carpet beneath him remained unscathed. Louis and the others watched in silence as the person curled up on the floor, his screams fading with the dying flames.

Nieman approached cautiously once the figure stopped moving. “This is the man who followed Sven inside.”

It was remarkable he could recognize him—the man who had followed Sven and Xanye inside wasn’t exceptionally handsome or tall but was at least of average height with distinct features, unlike the short, charred figure now on the floor.

“Magic backlash.” Louis finally spoke, more to himself than to Nieman. As time passed and he controlled his breathing, he felt a bit stronger.

“They’ve clashed,” Ham said, crossing his arms. His gaze returned from the direction the burning man had come and fell on Louis. “Sorry, but you must leave here.”

Even if Khalif emerged victorious, looking twenty-five again, they had no intention of acknowledging someone who placed personal desires above the family. The White Bridge Auction House’s reputation was expected to plummet after tonight, a fate Khalif could have prevented.

Therefore, Louis couldn’t die here—he was younger, more rational (so far), and uninterested in the head position, which at least meant he wouldn’t embezzle like Khalif.

Of course, their plan to make Louis the head was still one-sided, as he had no intention of cooperating, which was better. They didn’t need to treat him as the head until he agreed.

If he refused to leave, they would knock him out and carry him away. Unlike McMullan, Ham, though rough-looking, had no qualms about abandoning unnecessary gentlemanly behavior.

Louis sensed the dangerous undertone and sneered.

“I don’t need you to boss me around,” he said.

“Enough,” McMullan said, trying to pacify them. “Vasilia never lingers after achieving her goals. If she hasn’t come out yet, her people must be dead inside.”

Louis irritably interrupted him. “Stop talking nonsense and move.”

McMullan and Nieman exchanged glances as they watched Louis walk towards the entrance hall.

Louis didn’t care if they thought he was complying due to threats. He was only anxious that the longer he delayed, the closer Charlie would get.

The only relief was that, despite his early departure, Alexander and the patrol team, whom he had trained, would manage without him for a short period. According to protocol, the city would be under lockdown after the auction incident, with all unauthorized transportation banned. It was a large city, and without the Gray Sentinel, it was impossible to get here quickly…

“Mr. McMullan!” A voice called out in relief. A man holding a weapon stood at the entrance hall, relaxed upon confirming their identities, and quickly approached after releasing his grip on his sword. “What happened? Why are all the lights out?”

He was surprised to see Louis among them. “Lord Louis, you’re safe! But how…?”

The man was clearly unaware of the past few hours’ events and had no idea McMullan and the others had turned against Khalif. He relaxed upon seeing them, thinking the darkness in the mansion was due to an attack or sabotage.

Louis looked up. “You’re here.”

He recognized the man as one of Khalif’s squad leaders.

“Yes. Lord Khalif ordered us to complete the task by midnight.” He whispered, “Time is almost up… Where is Lord Khalif?” It was rare for McMullan and the others to be away from Khalif, but he didn’t realize something was wrong.

McMullan took over the conversation. “Have you completed it?”

“Yes!” The man couldn’t hide his excitement. “We finally found Miss Prima after six mages tracked her continuously!”

Louis’s brow twitched, but he remained silent.

“Is she unharmed?” Nieman asked.

“Yes. Miss Prima seemed to have lost her mind for some reason, but we couldn’t harm her. We used a bit of calming oil to prevent her from struggling and hurting herself. When we found her, she was with a strange person, likely under his influence, but we subdued him too!”

After reporting, the squad leader whistled, and half a minute later, the sound of a group being pushed along was heard from the entrance.

For some reason, Louis felt a sense of foreboding. He instinctively reached into his pocket and found that the restless bird had turned back into paper.

He discreetly looked up and saw shadows appearing at the corner where the carpet ended, one of them truly “strange.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not the King of Terror. Just because I have a rabbit’s head, you assume I am? How do you know the King of Terror isn’t a zebra? An eagle? An octopus?”

Charlie, with his hands bound behind him, argued logically as he walked, guarded by wary men. Prima, on the other hand, was treated much better and handled carefully to avoid harming her. Prima remained expressionless until she saw Louis, and her eyes brightened.

---

The author has something to say:

Charlie: Walking is out of the question, absolutely impossible. Prima, stay here, and I’ll call a ride.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

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.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

---

Chapter 179

Khalif leaned against the wall, his body shaking uncontrollably. Louis’s first sword strike had gone in deep, injuring his internal organs, and the wound on his ear was still bleeding. The pain and blood loss made him quickly weaken.

But he was still alive. Looking at Louis lying on the ground, he thought with satisfaction that the last time he felt like this was when he defeated the previous Wolf King.

A dark-skinned servant was squatting beside Louis, checking his breath, while the others ran down the corridor to get medication and bandages for Khalif, as he refused to leave the spot to go to his bedroom.

“Is he dead?” Khalif asked impatiently, his voice barely a whisper.

The squatting servant nodded. Khalif wearily turned his head, allowing someone beside him to clean the wound on his ear, his gaze falling on the door that Louis had nearly destroyed.

He had arrived just in time. Louis hadn’t even taken a step inside.

This was his forbidden area. Except for Xanye assisting him, no one had ever set foot here. And once the magic was completed, even Xanye was forbidden from approaching.

“What about the one in the living room?” He glanced at the attendant, who was bandaging him.

“Unconscious, but not dead.”

“Bring her here.” Khalif began to feel dizzy. If he, like Louis, was left unattended, he wouldn’t last two more hours.

He couldn’t wait for Prima. He had to activate the door again immediately to replenish his vitality.

Severely injured, Khalif couldn’t drag an unconscious person on his own. He reluctantly allowed his most loyal (and also the most heavily injured in the recent battle) attendant to help bring the assassin, who hadn’t escaped with her companions, into the underground corridor. The other three stood by, watching them go in, then simultaneously looked at Louis, who lay motionless.

“What do we do?” someone asked.

The dark-skinned servant remained silent for a moment, then lifted Louis’s coat again, the shape of the blood seeping out clearly marking the wound’s position—avoiding the heart.

It was the person who had asked what to do that had inflicted this wound.

“McMullan and you made a choice. Urch made his too,” another attendant standing to the side said.

The one who had stabbed Louis glanced at the dark-skinned McMullan, who had just confirmed Louis’s death to Khalif, but it was he who had struck the blow, so he knew what it meant.

“And you, Ham?” he asked.

“I don’t make decisions,” Ham replied.

“Then it’s two to one,” McMullan said in a deep voice. He and another lifted Louis, moving him to the nearest room. Ham hesitated but eventually stayed where he was.

McMullan was a strong enforcer, especially physically robust, but less skilled in treating injuries compared to the other attendant. He watched the other work quickly on Louis’s wounds and asked, “Why bother?”

The other shrugged without looking up. “We’ve followed Khalif for so long that obeying orders has almost become reflexive. Besides, you’ve got to give me some time to think.”

“Changing our loyalty didn’t take time.” McMullan, typically a taciturn man, spoke more than usual in the presence of his comrades.

His like-minded companion finished the emergency treatment, then looked up and met McMullan’s gaze seriously.

“Because our mission is above the head of the family,” he said.

This was a secret known to very few. As attendants to the head of the Wolf Family, their status was low (relative to the family’s cadres), but they formed the most powerful group in each generation of the Wolf’s forces.

Their public duty was singular: to protect the current head of the Wolf family. But strictly speaking, they didn’t belong to the head. They belonged to the “Wolf”.

They had another mission: to ensure the proper succession of the head’s position. For centuries, there were only two ways for the Wolf’s head to change hands. Peaceful succession, where the head groomed a legitimate heir (not necessarily by blood) and stepped down when the heir’s achievements surpassed their own, a joyous and peaceful method; or combat succession, where one defeated the head despite the head having access to the family’s full resources, naturally becoming the new Wolf King.

McMullan and his three comrades were judges of these two methods. The pack needed a strong Wolf King but not an arbitrary tyrant. When Khalif, out of hatred for Louis, dismissed his attendants and insisted on a one-on-one fight, the judgment began. Whether Louis intended to or not, they saw him as a challenger.

When Khalif, regretting the one-on-one duel, suddenly demanded his attendants join the fray, his defeat was evident. Yet Neiman, wavering, compromised by wounding Louis.

But in the end, McMullan and Neiman, who had stabbed Louis, determined Louis as the victor. Ham abstained, while Urch, who helped Khalif into the corridor, chose Khalif.

“Majority rules,” McMullan said. “Urch can’t defeat us two.” This declared Urch’s death sentence. Their mission was above all else, meaning their former comrade now had a different stance, and only one side could survive.

“He probably didn’t expect you to lie,” Neiman said seriously, then looked down at Louis. “But I think this kid lacks the will to live… His heartbeat is very weak.”

He looked at McMullan, troubled. “Do you think we’ve picked the shortest-lived head in history?”

McMullan ignored him, glancing out the door.

“Someone’s coming,” he said.

He and Neiman walked to the door, seeing several people approaching from the foyer, not bothering to soften their footsteps, seemingly wanting the people inside to notice their presence, even if they were uninvited.

The one leading was a woman, Xanye.

Seeing the standing men, she looked guarded. Having been by Khalif’s side for some time, she was familiar with them—though Khalif treated them no differently than other servants, their strength was undeniable.

“McMullan,” she said, like a greeting, to the dark-skinned servant leading them. But McMullan’s gaze fell on the short, hunched old man behind her.

This was the head of the Monkey Family.

A cunning old man, much more scheming than Xanye. He had no hair or eyebrows. His wrinkled face resembled that of an old turtle, with an inconspicuous smile.

“Judges,” he said. Evidently, he was one of the few who knew the truth. Seeing these people, who should be with Khalif, appear alone, he understood their current status immediately. “One is missing… Is Khalif still alive?”

Xanye glanced at the corridor leading underground, easily sensing the magical fluctuations from within. She seemed uneasy, but the old man shook his head, scrutinizing McMullan and Neiman.

He only slightly turned his body in that direction, and McMullan and Neiman blocked the doorway simultaneously, making their intentions clear.

But the other party didn’t seem to need to enter. He shook his head slightly, as if savoring the air, then said, “Disgust, fatigue, despair, but calm, proactive… very contradictory. Only young people have so many troubles.”

Xanye looked a bit surprised. McMullan and Neiman’s stance was clearly protective, but the person inside wasn’t Khalif?

She had only been gone a few hours. What on earth had happened during this time?

“I don’t wish to disturb your master’s rest. I just want to check on my child’s magic… She said her recent research went wrong and asked me to confirm it to avoid any accidents,” the Monkey Family head said smoothly, finally turning to Ham, who was standing near the corridor entrance with his arms crossed. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Ham didn’t move.

So the old man stepped forward. Xanye was taken aback, wanting to speak but stopped. Seeing Ham didn’t stop them, she hurriedly followed, lifting her skirt, with two deep-set men behind her, silent from start to finish.

Neiman looked at Ham with a complex expression. “You’re just going to stand there?”

Ham said, “I have no obligation to Khalif anymore.” So whatever the Monkey Family wanted to do with Khalif, he didn’t need to respond.

“The things in the corridor aren’t good,” McMullan said grimly. With Louis’s successful challenge, The Wolf no longer needed Khalif, who cared only for himself and not the family. Though they didn’t know what Khalif had been doing with the Monkey Family in the underground these years, the resources consumed suggested it was an evil project satisfying his desires. Now that the old man from the Monkey Family had gone in, McMullan seriously considered the feasibility of collapsing the basement to bury them all inside.

“Let’s go,” Neiman said. “Find a doctor. It’s chaotic now. It’ll take time. Don’t let him really suffocate himself.”

“Wait.” McMullan stopped him from entering the room. Ham lowered his hands and stood straight, and Neiman sensed something, closing the previously ajar door behind them.

Just past midnight, the mansion was unusually lively, and more visitors arrived.

A tall figure walked down the corridor, the cold aura and killing intent seemingly lowering the temperature.

Though still some distance away, McMullan didn’t need to see clearly to recognize the newcomer.

“Vasilia,” he said softly.

Neiman glanced at him, and Ham stepped over the mess of splintered wood on the floor to join them.

In the room behind them, a small, round bird was struggling.

This was a smoking room with several windows. The bird took some time but finally found one window that wasn’t completely closed. It squeezed itself inside, becoming a mess of feathers and expending a lot of energy in the process.

The little bird, now exhausted, flew around the room before landing on Louis’s face. But this didn’t wake him up.

Perplexed, the bird rolled down to Louis’s neck. Weighing its options, it decided to peck him hard on the earlobe.

Still no reaction.

What’s wrong with this guy?

Uncertain and dissatisfied, the bird eyed Louis’s nose, wondering if it should peck there next. Then it remembered it had a message to deliver.

Charlie had given it “language”!

The bird hopped onto Louis’s cheek, chirped once, adjusted its tone, and then started jumping around on his face, chirping cheerfully, “George! George! George! George!”

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

---

Chapter 178

The intruder in the darkness was silent. Their quick reflex and close-fitting soft leather armor shielded them from most of the damage, but the cold pain still made them retreat.

They were well-trained assassins, but Khalif’s attendants were like ten warriors each. The fight didn’t last long before the intruder realized they were at a disadvantage. Somehow, they decided to withdraw at the same time—but it was too late.

The dark-skinned attendant lashed out with his leg, kicking the person in front of him so hard that they crashed into the edge of a heavy wooden table. The table slid about a foot across the carpet, and the Goddess of Victory statue and various letter openers and wax seals on it fell to the ground. The statue landed squarely on the head of the person lying on the floor, and the sharp sound of metal hitting flesh was unmistakable.

Even though the person didn’t make a sound, everyone in the unlit room knew she was seriously injured because they could all smell the blood.

But he didn’t plan to stop. The other intruders were blocked by the attendants and couldn’t retrieve their fallen comrade. His eyes had long since adapted to the darkness, and he could see a small figure (given that the intruders were likely from the Lion Family, this was a girl) lying on the carpet. Compared to the senior members of the Lion Family, her actions were still too inexperienced. If it had been Vasilia or someone else, it wouldn’t have been so easy to end the fight so quickly.

Thinking this, he casually picked up the Goddess of Victory statue that had rolled to his feet, weighed it, and stepped forward, raising it high—

Bang.

A heavy thud echoed from the other end of the hallway.

Everyone in the living room paused for a moment. Khalif reacted immediately, pushing aside the others and heading out.

“My Lord!” The attendant noticed his actions and couldn’t help but shout.

Bang! Another thud, and Khalif roared, “Move!”

Ignoring everything, he rushed past the still-fighting people, running through the mess on the floor. His heart seemed to ache with each thud. The mansion’s lights hadn’t been restored, but he was too familiar with the house he had lived in for decades for the darkness to hinder him.

On his way, he saw a few servants collapsed on the ground, as if they had inhaled some kind of sedative, lying motionless. Khalif, annoyed by their obstruction, kicked them aside. A young footman was kicked so hard he rolled twice on the ground, hitting his head heavily on the lampstand base.

Khalif stood in the hallway, panting and staring at the person standing at the end. The once-locked door had been smashed open, and the person was holding a lantern, peering inside. Hearing Khalif’s approach, he half-turned.

“It’s you.” He squinted, his eyes filled with undisguised hatred. Even in the dim light, the other’s tall, muscular figure was clearly visible, radiating strength and endurance—the young body he most desired and envied.

Louis held an oddly shaped sword in his hand, its blade slightly curved, the hilt his usual black style. The lantern light made the blade appear especially sharp.

He glanced at Khalif, then raised his hand to hang the lantern on the broken door.

Khalif found he couldn’t suppress his loathing for this young man—loathing that had accumulated over time. It wasn’t just Louis’s extravagant youth that repelled him, but a deeper aversion he hadn’t fully explored until Louis looked at him. In that moment, Khalif understood why.

Louis bore a striking resemblance to Fahim, or rather, he was a healthier, disease-free version of Fahim with normal-colored hair, eyes, and skin.

When Fahim brought Louis to White Bridge, he was still growing, so thin that his face looked like a Monkey’s. At that time, Fahim was already in the latter half of his life, reclusive, spending most of his time sleeping, and rarely meeting guests. Over time, most of the family members had a vague impression of this capable but frail man. Only Khalif, who had suffered many losses to Fahim, kept a close watch on him.

Now, the Louis before him overlapped significantly with his memories of Fahim before his illness worsened, especially with those eyes showing only a faint disdain, so faint it seemed like a mirage.

It was like seeing the White Wolf Fahim from twenty-five years ago standing before him again.

“You really do resemble him.” Khalif raised his hand to stop the attendants from surrounding Louis. “Fahim was just like this… Arrogant but cowardly, never willing to put his fighting skills into practice, afraid his opponent’s fists and swords would dirty his shoes. Today, you have a sword. Have you finally decided to take a practical fighting lesson?”

Louis didn’t respond to his taunts.

In some ways, Khalif wasn’t wrong. Both Fahim and Louis had high talent in combat but rarely fought themselves, though for different reasons.

Fahim’s illness gradually deprived him of strength, agility, and even the ability to breathe. In the later stages, he became unimaginably weak. Louis, on the other hand, avoided injuries. The instinct to avoid bleeding had become second nature to him and his brother. This was why Fahim almost confined them to the big house in Fortuna City when they were young. Minor bleeding wasn’t an issue if treated immediately, but if blood was exposed to the air for some time, the space around the Holy Grail would subtly distort, allowing the scent of blood to notify the Lamp Bearer, drawing them near regardless of distance.

“I always knew this day would come.” Khalif ignored Louis’s silence and took a sword from an attendant. “Honestly, it came much later than I expected. If I hadn’t investigated the family for the Holy Grail, would you have kept hiding?”

“I’m not a coward,” Louis said. “But I agree that this day was inevitable.”

Khalif sneered. After the failed ambush in the living room, someone had gone to restore the lights, but the entire lighting system in the house had been sabotaged, so only candles were gradually lit. The flickering candlelight cast a sinister glow on Khalif’s wrinkled face.

“Hand over the name you’ve been hiding, and I might conceal your rebellion out of respect for Prima.” Khalif raised his sword. “Or are you the one who’s been hidden?”

When the astrologer said the Holy Grail still existed but none of the blood samples Louis provided could summon the Lamp Bearers, Khalif knew Louis had other plans. It was just that the breakthrough in the Time Gate research had temporarily diverted his attention.

He wanted to mock Louis’s overestimation of himself, but as soon as he raised his sword, Louis lunged at him.

Khalif, energized, raised his sword to block, but his strength was indeed diminished. After two days of continuous stress, he couldn’t withstand the impact and took two steps back to steady himself.

Shame and anger surged to his head. Khalif roared, recklessly lunging forward with a thrust! Louis sidestepped his fierce attack. Though Khalif was no longer young, his combat experience was richer. After missing a few blows, he quickly calmed down, no longer relying on brute force but using his familiarity with the space to corner Louis into an alcove displaying decorative paintings. Using the cramped space, he slashed horizontally. Louis kicked him in the stomach, sending Khalif staggering back. Khalif didn’t fall but leaned forward, his free hand holding a dagger. He slashed Louis’s chest, leaving a long cut.

Louis ignored the pain, knowing he had to end it quickly. As Khalif was unsteady, he swept out a clean, powerful kick. Khalif cried out, stumbling into a tall stand holding a porcelain vase, knocking it and the flowers to the floor. He steadied himself by grabbing a wall lamp and shouted, “What are you waiting for?”

Louis squinted, ignoring the three attendants rushing at him. Without waiting for Khalif to regain his balance, he thrust his sword into Khalif’s stomach, showing no mercy. Despite Khalif’s attempt to roll away, it was too late. Louis’s sword deeply pierced his abdomen, and when he withdrew, blood gushed out.

Khalif screamed in pain, clutching his stomach and falling to his knees, convulsing. Louis didn’t have time for a second strike. He turned to block the oncoming attacks but couldn’t fend off three men alone, especially ones who had followed Khalif for years and worked in perfect harmony. Though Louis injured them, he was also severely wounded, bleeding profusely.

Blood loss blurred his vision. His fingers trembled, barely gripping his sword. Realizing he couldn’t defeat the three, Louis turned his back to them again.

Khalif, panting in fear, widened his eyes, paralyzed, watching Louis come at him with a fearless aura. His brain screamed to roll away or raise his sword to block, but his body, in pain and weakness, didn’t obey. He could only watch the blade approach his neck, pain coming as expected but not fatal.

A sword pierced Louis’s back. His sword’s tip deviated from Khalif’s neck to his ear. Louis’s sword fell behind the half-cut ear.

Kicked to the ground, someone passed over his body to help Khalif. Khalif’s voice trembled with pain but was discernible.

Khalif said, “So it wasn’t you.”

Louis’s ears rang. His body was numb, but his brain still processed Khalif’s words.

He must have bled a lot, yet no phenomena appeared, indicating he wasn’t the Holy Grail, disappointing Khalif.

Lying on the ground, Louis felt his other senses fading, just like his hearing. His last coherent thought was, ‘At least it wasn’t Charlie.’

---

The author has something to say:

At least it wasn’t Charlie who came.

At least it wasn’t Charlie who bled.

At least it wasn’t Charlie who died.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

---

Chapter 177

Prima tightened the wool coat wrapped around her. She found it in an office cubicle. The material was a bit rough, but it covered her glossy silk satin corset dress, which would otherwise shimmer under the moonlight and easily attract unnecessary attention.

Especially now.

Even the rabbit-headed shopkeeper had removed his top hat to keep a low profile. The two of them hurried along the corner of the wall, occasionally glancing at the distant or nearby lights and the constant clamor.

White Bridge was a well-known city that never slept, but Prima had never seen it like this: doors and windows of houses along the roads or deeper inside were tightly shut—not a single light leaked out, as if no one lived inside. The windows of shops near the center were smashed. Terrifying flames illuminated the beautifully arranged goods from the daytime. Groups of people ran down the streets with torches, and the sound of horse hooves was incessant—

“Hey!” Two or three men, looking like they had just returned from looting, shouted at Prima. “Hey girl, where are you going? I’ve got money today!”

Prima was startled and instinctively wanted to look back. The rabbit-headed shopkeeper grabbed her arm, pushed her towards the inner side of the walkway, ignored the men, and quickened his pace around a dark, unlit street shop.

For about two minutes, Prima thought those men would follow them, but they didn’t.

Maybe they had already had a great haul tonight. They just laughed crudely and muttered jokes she couldn’t understand, and the noises gradually faded away.

“Mr. Charlie,” Prima asked, panting as she had to jog to keep up with him. “Do you know what’s happening? I haven’t seen any patrols…”

“The patrols were Louis’s idea. Cameron and Azman always thought it was unnecessary.” Charlie slowed his pace and whispered, “They believed that wealthy guests and family members wouldn’t wander the streets alone at night, and those who were powerless and still took risks didn’t deserve extra protection.”

Now that Louis was missing, the security rights had been completely transferred to Khalif and Azman. As soon as Azman got the power ring, he eagerly reassigned a large number of people to specifically protect Khalif and other important family members (including himself), leaving gaps in the originally well-organized teams. Therefore, when chaos broke out at the central district auction site, the speed at which the residents of Paradise Island advanced into the city was unexpectedly fast.

He didn’t answer Prima’s first question. The conflict between the inner city and Paradise Island had always existed, but the strange thing was that few people truly noticed it before, especially a well-off girl like Prima, who probably never thought that just a few streets away, people had been struggling for survival for many years.

She was Khalif’s daughter and should think about all this herself.

Because of the dry weather, White Bridge didn’t have enough drainage canals, making it inconvenient to summon Darby Belly Fish. As Charlie and Prima walked, they looked for available transportation, but many streetlights had been deliberately damaged, so they had to rely on moonlight to find their way. Charlie glanced at the moon and stopped in a corner.

Prima put her hands on her knees and watched curiously as he used an unusually short pen to draw a circle on the brick pavement, then took out a woman’s powder compact, opened it, and placed it in front of the circle. He adjusted the angle so that the moon was perfectly reflected in the small mirror.

‘So Mr. Charlie is a mage,’ Prima thought. If that was the case, his unique rabbit head and mysterious demeanor made sense.

Charlie unfastened his cufflinks and untied a thin silver chain with a crystal from his wrist. He didn’t set up any auxiliary items like sea salt, rosemary, or essential oils because the blood bond between him and Louis would attract each other—just like Khalif and Prima.

His Gray Sentinel could find Louis faster than anyone, but he wanted to improve the function a bit more because Louis knew Charlie well and was quite stubborn. He wanted to eliminate the possibility of Louis ignoring the signal from him. However, time was tight, so he hastily set up a basic magic circle. A folded paper bird was placed in the center of the circle, and a spindle-shaped crystal circled above it—like writing, but too fast for Prima to recognize the characters. The ritual ended in a blink.

“Find him for me.” Charlie touched the paper bird, and where his fingers touched, the paper turned into feathers. A sparrow the size of half a palm shook its wings in the magic circle, with three extra upright feathers on its head. It seemed to understand Charlie’s meaning by nature, hopped twice, and then flew away.

Charlie stood up and smudged the magic circle with his boot. He looked in the direction the sparrow flew and said to Prima, “Thank you for your patience, miss. Although the Sentinel flies fast, we can’t lag behind.”

……

After Khalif got home, he didn’t change his clothes immediately.

Xanye had obviously betrayed him, and the cousins looking for Prima wouldn’t show up either. But even so, it wasn’t impossible for him to find other mages—just kidding, even if the Wolf Family didn’t advocate magic, it didn’t mean they were cut off from it. Their business in White Bridge was so extensive that basic magic applications were widespread, and the family had long-term contracted mages.

But these mages told him that Prima was on the move, and the tracking magic couldn’t provide real-time tracking and needed a cooldown period, making their search inevitably lag behind.

Khalif didn’t like such incompetent responses.

“Lord Khalif.” The dark-skinned, tall attendant behind him, also one of Khalif’s personal guards, lowered his head and asked, “There is chaos at the auction site. A large group of people stormed the venue, and the guests were greatly frightened. At least five different places in the central district are on fire simultaneously. Mr. Azman is struggling to control the situation. There have been injuries and deaths among the auction guards and the rioters.”

He didn’t say, “Do you want to go there to stabilize the situation?” and Khalif didn’t need the suggestion.

Khalif ignored him and instructed, “Send another squad to find Prima. Before midnight, I want to see her safely sitting in the living room.”

The dark-skinned attendant couldn’t hide his disappointed expression and exchanged a look with the two standing beside him.

Their mission was to protect the head of the Wolf Family, and Khalif obviously thought they just needed to stay silent and be vigilant.

“If you’re so idle…” Khalif said wearily, but before he could finish, the gas lights in the hall and corridor suddenly went out. Fortunately, the maid had already lit a candelabrum in the living room, so they weren’t plunged into complete darkness, but the dim candlelight seemed somewhat ominous in the deep night.

Several attendants immediately closed in around Khalif, and one of them ordered the footman holding Khalif’s soft-soled slippers to check the gas system.

Khalif stood among them, smiling knowingly.

“I was wondering why it was so smooth all the way, with no one showing any interest in my carriage, which was unlike Cameron at all,” he said softly. “Turns out the guest was already waiting at home.”

The dark-skinned attendant’s attention was entirely on the darkness the candlelight couldn’t reach. They had undergone rigorous training and knew this was a common assassin’s trick—to suddenly change the target’s surroundings to shake their resolve while reducing their observation and judgment abilities. But this wouldn’t last long. They would soon…

His companion suddenly took half a step back, turning sideways to block a white flash faster than lightning, which also glowed blue under the candlelight, indicating a poisoned weapon.

Those around Khalif watched as the footman who had gone to check the gas valve was thrown limp into the living room, but no one spared him a glance. The dark-skinned attendant tried to escort Khalif to the study connected to the living room, but the sound of projectiles whizzing by made them swiftly block most of the weapons aimed at Khalif. However, the suddenly darkened room indicated they had been tricked. Several shots that seemed to miss went straight for the floor-standing candelabrum, slicing five of the eight burning candles, with the remaining flickers dangerously jumping in the wind.

Khalif’s hawk-like eyes scanned the surroundings. The mansion was unusually quiet, and the usually busy servants seemed frozen. They could only hear the heavy breathing of those around them and…the sound of swords.

“Clang!” The crisp sound of weapons clashing came from Khalif’s side. The attendant on his left blocked a fierce attack with his short sword. Shadows silently appeared in the living room. The dark-skinned attendant had excellent night vision. He pursed his lips, shielding Khalif without using any weapons, and charged at an oncoming figure. Though large, he was incredibly fast. Neither tested the other in the dim light. They aimed to kill. He dodged the blade and punched the attacker’s upper arm with great force, but the hand stubbornly held onto the short sword, reversing the grip for another slash. The seamless transition was muscle memory honed through countless battles.

The change in the attack was so quick that the dark-skinned attendant prepared to block with a non-vital part of his body, but suddenly, a dagger emerged from under his elbow—it was Khalif unexpectedly stabbing the attacker’s lower body—no, the abdomen!

The feel of the soft leather armor tearing made Khalif realize he had hit something. He sneered.

“It seems living in peace for too long has made some arrogant. Since when do underage Lions dare to venture into the Wolves’ den?”

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