Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

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Chapter 112

“Erica and Dr. Salman made some manipulations to make the townspeople believe that a mudslide had destroyed the road leading to the castle,” Charlie said. “The relatives of the bankers and merchants who disappeared without a trace didn’t give up searching at first, but the ‘key’ has been destroyed. To anyone looking, this place is just a crumbling castle overgrown with vines and wildflowers.”

The once beautiful greenhouse was now covered with climbing plants, resembling a giant green turtle from afar, with various flowers growing wildly in the flowerbeds. Due to the lack of pruning, their untamed vitality flourished.

The two of them exerted some effort to lift the unconscious Elena out of the fountain, fortunate that the pool was fed by a live stream. Otherwise, the Darby Belly Fish would’ve had to drop them off at the nearest river to the castle, forcing them to trek through the roads that Erica had deliberately damaged.

Louis glanced back at the pool, which now only reflected the moonlight. The magical fish was nowhere to be seen.

“Such things,” he mused, “are they phantom beasts?”

“Rare beasts.” Finally outside, Charlie sat on the edge of the fountain, smoking. The drifting smoke rings blurred under the moonlight. “Do you remember that story about the Kingdom of Gold?”

“I remember. That bizarre travelog, as if from a dream, the author was called ‘The Lying Ajasha’,” Louis said calmly. “You like these kinds of stories.”

Charlie nodded. “This child is probably the last Darby Belly Fish on the continent if its previous owner has already safely returned home.”

He roughly described his small business in Pennigra to Louis, including the reason he returned to Doran. Strictly speaking, Kurt’s prophecy about Priscilla might also be related to Louis.

Ever since Priscilla blurted out the unfamiliar name “Ceylon” upon seeing him at the Mokwen Palace, Charlie had harbored a bad feeling, given that people who looked like him were few and far between. But in front of the Duke, he couldn’t very well say, “I suspect there’s something wrong between your sister and my brother.”

Kurt said Priscilla was surrounded by ominous stars, with two extremely dangerous people threatening her safety.

Lestrop was definitely one, and Louis was not entirely safe either.

Louis nodded. “The name ‘Wolf’ is a threat to anyone.” Regarding the unborn child, he and Priscilla were both clear-headed. Getting involved with a Black Gold Family was disadvantageous. Maintaining their distance was the right choice.

Charlie was somewhat worried—Louis had always been a pessimist, and, having been brought back to White Bridge by Fahim, his mood seemed worse growing up surrounded by Wolves.

“Let’s not talk about this now.” Charlie decisively changed the subject. “Help me get her into the castle. I’ll see if I can fix this magic.”

It was late at night, and the castle was pitch black, likely checked by the sheriff coming to search for people, with many rooms tossed about. However, due to the road being impassable, the lavish but large furniture was preserved, its gilded decorations and inlaid gems glinting under the moonlight filtering through the windows, faintly hinting at a time when guests filled the halls.

The upstairs library was burnt to a cinder, including the great book, but the magic in this area still existed, akin to the key being destroyed but the door remaining, only the magic restricting entry and exit was temporarily ineffective without the book to control it.

Objectively speaking, the woman embedded in the wall was much more formidable than Elena. She had turned the entire castle into a magical object. Admittedly, a creator’s magic faded and eventually became ineffective after death, but this process usually wasn’t rapid. The fire that truly claimed her life had only recently been extinguished, and it seemed no mages had visited since, so her residual magic was still relatively intact, with Charlie still able to sense the magical elements flowing through the air.

Charlie quickly checked the entire castle. Since it was uninhabited, the interior had deteriorated rapidly. The thick floor curtains were covered in dust, provoking a cough at a glance, and the once mirror-like floors were now dirty, with corners against the walls showing signs of mice. As for the staircase banisters, Charlie thought it would take at least ten feather dusters to clean them.

“I need some time to study her formulas,” Charlie concluded. “You go back to Fortuna City for now and pass on a message for me.”

Louis frowned. “Can you handle that witch alone?”

“A severely injured witch,” Charlie corrected him. “Elena won’t wake up so quickly, and it will take even longer for her energy to recover… But honestly, it’s better if she doesn’t.”

He glanced at Elena, temporarily placed on a dusty old sofa. Just in Fortuna City, her puppet magic and animal disturbances had caused much damage and posed real threats to public safety, not to mention the pain and destruction she had inflicted over time, with the tin soldier Columbus as a prime example.

No witch’s reputation was built on good deeds. If taken to trial, Elena’s punishment wouldn’t be light.

Since he ended up handling Elena by chance, Charlie didn’t plan to create a holiday retreat for her. It was crucial to ensure she couldn’t easily escape.

Louis reluctantly agreed to Charlie’s plan to handle the aftermath alone, but after being assured of Charlie’s magical power, which was no less than Elena’s, and that restarting a castle originally built by magic wasn’t difficult, and since physical strength greatly limited a mage’s power, a comatose witch would certainly pose no threat to him.

After nearly half an hour of back-and-forth, Louis reluctantly nodded. He had no expertise in magic, and insisting on staying wouldn’t be very effective. Going missing for too long might trigger a reaction from both the Wolf and Monkey families, potentially escalating the situation—especially with the auction imminent, which was a sensitive time for many.

Charlie took the opportunity to mention Kurt’s situation to him.

Given the rarity and value of astrologers, it was unlikely for Louis to decide to release Kurt on his own. Everything listed in the auction catalog was considered public property of the Wolf family, and even the family head couldn’t dispose of it at will. However, it was possible within his authority to provide some special treatment for Kurt, at least improving his living conditions. Charlie felt that, with Kurt’s frail health, treating him like a slave would see him fall ill before the auction even started.

“If your goal at this auction is the astrologer, it’s going to be tough.” Louis frowned. “He’s one of this year’s most sought-after ‘items’. Nearly everyone will be watching him. But I can make his stay a bit more comfortable. Many of the auction items need careful maintenance, and the ‘warehouse’ conditions aren’t bad.”

“Are you planning to bid for the astrologer?” Louis asked. “He’s just a tenant of yours.”

Strictly speaking, he wasn’t even a tenant. Charlie was more like a middleman. Wanting to save a friend was understandable, but everyone knew that one of only three astrologers in the world would fetch an astronomical price. Although Louis and Charlie weren’t short of money, they didn’t feel capable of outbidding other enthusiastic competitors. When it came to money, there was always someone with deeper pockets.

“You don’t need to worry about that. Just take care of Miss Priscilla. The Darby Belly Fish will drop you off a distance from the dock. Don’t let anyone see it,” Charlie said.

He knew that without Fahim, Louis wouldn’t have an easy time within the family. Relying on their grandfather, who was only interested in indulging himself and maintaining his image, was impossible. The old man lacked talent and was shortsighted, barely acknowledging Louis, much to his own discontent.

If not for Fahim and Louis both proving themselves capable, their branch of the family would have failed under his leadership—likely ending up relegated to the surrounding cities, barely scraping by pawning the jewelry and furniture left by their ancestors.

Now, Louis was nearly the only hope for the family. To outsiders, he might seem to be enjoying his youthful success, but in reality, he was more cautious than anyone. Unwilling to burden him further, Charlie almost dragged him back to the edge of the fountain and practically shoved him into the fish’s mouth.

……

Just as an assassin sneaking through a snowy forest would erase their tracks, Charlie also exerted much effort to sever himself from his past. Despite his endless tales of his glorious days at the Monterey Academy in front of the Duke and his entourage, since setting foot on the continent of Doran, he rarely used magic directly, instead relying on various mediums to indirectly exert his magical power.

He did this because, like his appearance, magic also varied from person to person. Charlie could recognize magical items or remnants of magic handled by Elena without using any sigils, just by the inherent magic within them—and vice versa, Elena could recognize his. This included the classmates with whom he had studied and played and the teachers who had once held high hopes for him.

Perhaps due to his exaggerated tone, when he spoke of the past, everyone thought he was boasting. But in reality, Charlie had indeed been the pride of Monterey, and had his status not been sensitive, he would have been known across the continent earlier than Elena, and in a more reputable manner, rather than fiddling all day with invisibility potions, dragon-shaped flyers, and Gray Sentinels, which would make those old teachers wince at the “improper practices”.

Recalling how his favorite teacher had once discreetly and eagerly hinted, hoping he would stay and continue to study magic after graduation, Charlie showed a nostalgic smile.

If cutting off all ties with classmates and friends was regrettable, then for the teachers who had carefully instructed him, Charlie felt nothing but remorse.

He restrained his smile, raised his hand to remove his top hat, and hung it on a hat rack in the corner of the hall.

The moment the hat touched the hook, the seemingly stagnant space suddenly came alive.

It was as if someone had dropped a stone into a silent, deep pond. The hat rack was the point where the stone hit the water, creating ripples that spread outward. As they spread, a three-legged piano stool reattached itself, cobwebs on the chandelier vanished, the porcelain tea set on the dining table regained its shine, and the carpet underfoot restored itself to new—Charlie was like a clockmaker, lightly adjusting, and turning back the castle’s time to the night of an impending grand ball. If one inhaled deeply, one could even smell the enticing aroma of bread baking from the kitchen far away.

He no longer appeared like the tea-savvy shopkeeper from 22 Paulownia Street, nor like the street performer doing magic for children at the crossroads as Erica first saw him. The air around him gathered into a breeze, spreading out from his feet, his coat fluttering endlessly as he stood with his eyes closed on the carpet of the main hall. Though his hands were in his pockets, his dispersed magic felt like invisible, large hands gently touching every corner of the castle, searching for various mechanisms and patiently unlocking them.

If Elena opened her eyes at this moment, she would see in this rabbit-headed man the shadow of the boy everyone admired and longed for in the academy, whom she had chased for over a decade.

The innate talent he was born with hadn’t been erased by time but had become more serene and robust. Charlie’s magic spread strongly but gently, slowly covering the core areas of the spatial magic.

He didn’t intend to remake this magic, but to repair it—while making some modifications.

The original core library had been destroyed, so he simply sealed off the entire corridor. Elena’s curse had denied Columbus many years of normal life, and Mistress Daisy’s tragedy also began with the witch hunt. If he was to seal Elena here, he wanted them completely separated.

The hall.

The staircase.

The corridor.

The storeroom.

The laundry room…

At each location, he left a magic circle according to the space’s use, incorporating a strand of Elena’s hair into the core of each circle, which meant the power source was changed from the magic left by the woman in the wall to Elena’s.

This operation carried a strong punitive meaning, walking a gray area between magic and curse. Mages of particularly upright character usually wouldn’t use this method, but Charlie hardly hesitated when he began.

As long as Elena lived, this space would continuously draw on her magic to sustain the castle. The stove in the kitchen would automatically add wood and burn, the spoon in the soup pot would stir the broth on its own, and the lights, large and small, would never go out. On good weather days, the sheets and curtains would even queue up to wash themselves.

It was a seemingly effortless environment to live in, but for anyone other than Elena, it could be considered comfortable.

The various magic circles in the castle would drain her magic no matter which room she hid in, like a climber who could never stop. The intense fatigue and effort would accompany her constantly unless she died, in which case this vampiric prison would forever trap her.

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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 111

Nine-year-old Charlie sat in an armchair. His toes barely touched the carpet unless he tiptoed, but he sat up straight—a seriously comical posture for a child, though the atmosphere was grave in the study where both the young and the adult took things seriously.

Hearing his uncle’s words, Charlie wasn’t shocked. After all, there was a fifty percent chance, and they were mentally prepared that one of them would have to face this fate.

Charlie’s attention was elsewhere.

“I always knew I was the older brother.” He felt slightly proud because both of them were “Louis”. Fahim always strictly forbade anyone from delving into the details of their birth, so it had never been settled who the older twin was, often sparking fights between them.

“I should protect my brother.” Young Charlie couldn’t help but bounce on his toes. “Please tell him that I am the Holy Grail. Let him stay—he gets uncomfortable in carriages and boats.” His logic was simple: if one day their twin identity was revealed, and those seeking the Holy Grail focused on them, the most dangerous place would also be the safest, and the one who ran away would be the one feared to be the captured Holy Grail.

By drawing away those suspicious gazes, at least his brother could live a stable life under their uncle’s protection. Their mother’s circumstances meant they weren’t recognized by the family, but Fahim was capable, and his status and authority were subtly surpassing that of their grandfather. Under these circumstances, life in Fortuna City was lonely and mundane, but the material conditions were always superior.

Remembering this, Charlie blinked and subconsciously reached out to touch Louis’s cheek—a habit from when Louis was frail as a child, easily getting feverish from cold or heat during the night, and the first thing Charlie would do upon waking was to check if his face was hot.

The commotion at the docks had settled by the time it was nearly dark. The Darby Belly Fish swam smoothly, causing no disturbances. Time here seemed to stand still. Louis had been in the river for half a day without changing clothes, and one could feel the chill on him up close.

Louis brushed off his hand. “I haven’t had fevers at night since I turned ten.”

Charlie reluctantly withdrew his hand, thinking it was because no one shared a bed with him anymore to know if he had a fever.

“Don’t overdo it falling into the river in this weather,” Charlie said. “Brother cares about you.”

Louis said indifferently, “The one who gets fevers is you, and I am the older brother.”

Charlie was puzzled. “I’m the older brother. Fahim himself said so.”

Louis, who had been resting with his eyes closed, suddenly opened them.

“Fahim said that I’m the older brother,” he stated. “I remember very clearly.”

Both fell silent for a while before Charlie said softly, “You’re joking.”

“I’m certain,” Louis replied firmly.

That stormy night was crystal clear in his memory. Fahim sat quietly behind his desk, watching him until young Louis, slightly uneasy, shifted in his seat before he spoke.

“Your brother is destined to bear a much heavier fate than you,” he said. “You were the firstborn. Your blood is red.”

Louis looked at him but didn’t speak.

“You were meant to have an ordinary life, but fate chose your twin brother, and now it’s your turn to make a choice for him.”

Louis didn’t remember how long he thought about it, but eventually, he responded.

“Let him go,” young Louis said, propping his knees with his hands. “I’ll stay—he’s always running out to watch the ships.”

He hadn’t thought too much about it. Twins were mirrors to each other, and Louis could see in his brother’s eyes the longing for the world beyond Fortuna City, understanding that such a person wouldn’t be happy confined to an estate forever. Besides, if they lived unnoticed for a lifetime in the city, unrecognized and mediocre was one thing, but if one day their identities were exposed, the one whose will had been worn down over time would struggle to find a way to escape. It was better to get used to life away from the family sooner rather than later.

“Are you sure?” Fahim asked. “Staying might be dangerous, but the outside isn’t necessarily better—you haven’t even seen the world beyond the docks. Fledglings leaving the nest too soon often die young.”

Louis sternly said, “You wouldn’t leave him to fend for himself in a filthy stable, would you?”

If Fahim dared say yes, he would—

He would complain to their deceased mother in his dreams tonight.

Fahim laughed. “Of course not. But my protection can’t extend across the continent. Once out of my sight, what happens is unpredictable.”

And since he was sending him away, it naturally meant placing him far beyond the reach of the Wolf and other influential families, indicating that if something did happen, the power of the White Wolf Fahim would also be unable to intervene immediately.

“That’s fine. You¹ have to protect him until he’s grown.” Although he was using honorifics¹, Louis’s tone was assertive. His eyes shone brightly, like a young cub begging its parents for food, unaware of his own expression. “Send him to a safe place. I’ll follow the arrangement—treat me as the Holy Grail if you must.”

¹Clarity: He’s using [nin] (您) instead of [ni] (你) for you. The former is the formal way, often used to show respect to the person addressed, while the latter is informal, often used between friends, family, or people of similar age or social status.

After all, he wasn’t really the Holy Grail. Even if someone did bleed him dry thinking he was, it wouldn’t awaken anything, and by then his brother would be living somewhere unknown in the world, unreachable—Louis calculated this was a win.

“Your decision has never wavered.” Fahim smiled. “I will take the one who stays back to the Wolf family.”

Fahim said softly, “Maybe tomorrow, maybe a year from now, maybe in ten years, but this will certainly happen. You let him leave, and if one day he returns… or is brought back, as the Holy Grail, what will you do then?”

Louis thought for a moment.

“Then I will kill him, getting to him before anyone else.” At least one of them, in body or spirit, would be free.

He said.

“Very well,” Fahim said.

That was the last question Fahim asked him that night. When Louis left the study and returned to his bedroom, Charlie was no longer there.

But there were still two pillows and two sets of pajamas on the footstool, and the dim night light continued to shine on each side.

Louis lay in bed all night until dawn, and the bedroom door remained unopened.

Charlie didn’t return the next day, nor the day after.

Fahim offered no explanations, and everyone in the house ceased to mention it, as if Louis had always been just Louis.

No one else.

……

Many years later, upon their unexpected reunion, Charlie and Louis realized something: their uncle had taken the secret of the Holy Grail to his grave. If the brothers truly never met again in this lifetime, no one else in the world would know whether he had lied or not.

“That’s just his style,” Charlie said after a long while.

Fahim was an odd figure, and much of Louis’s standing in the family today was inherited from him—Fahim was an undeniable pioneer.

Their grandfather had no talent in this area. Without Fahim, it was very likely that Charlie and Louis’s mother couldn’t have even secured the bare minimum for living. On one hand, her actions were frustrating, and on the other, she was supposed to carry half the hope for the family’s revival. In a place like White Bridge, where money was squandered recklessly, bankruptcy was common for those who couldn’t manage their finances. The compensation for unilaterally breaking off an engagement only made things worse. In the end, it was Fahim, then still a minor, who took over the reins of the household. By the time the twins were brought back to Fortuna City, the financial situation had greatly improved, ensuring that these neglected, illegitimate sons never lacked material comforts.

As beneficiaries, Charlie and Louis always found him strange yet capable. As an uncle, he didn’t shower them with much affection, but he earnestly took on the responsibility of protecting and educating them as an elder, and they couldn’t have asked for more. However, outsiders saw him as much more complex. On one hand, the White Wolf Fahim was extremely gracious and even refined in his dealings, never seen losing his temper or composure. On the other hand, the list of competitors and adversaries he had personally destroyed to rise to power was so long it could touch the ground, with many methods so horrifying they could chill the heart. Phrases like “a devil without tears” and “even hell has no place for you” were curses he had heard so often they no longer affected him.

Interestingly, as Louis began to make a name for himself within the Wolf family, there were occasional grievances about his actions. “Surely carrying blood as cold as that old White Wolf,” but Louis chose not to discuss this.

“He has always been cautious about this matter,” Louis hummed, stretching his previously bent legs wearily.

Fahim was never the type to tell fairy tales to his young nephews. On the contrary, he always emphasized the significance of the Holy Grail and the worst possible outcomes if their identities were exposed, a reality too cruel for children, such that even as an adult, Charlie still harbored great wariness towards the Lion family—they neither trusted nor accepted power granted by others and didn’t want other families to possess it, thus the Holy Grail had long topped their hit list.

“I really don’t care,” Charlie said. “Fahim is dead, but we have grown up.” Still, hearing of his uncle’s death saddened him a bit. Aside from each other, he was the last relative willing to offer them protection in this world.

“If you’ve grown up, you should know better than to come back.” Louis pointed out ruthlessly.

Unlike the optimistic Charlie, Louis habitually anticipated the worst. Although this unexpected disguise as a rabbit could deceive others, relying on a witch was indeed troublesome.

No one could ensure their powers remained stable, including mages and witches. This time, he almost assassinated Elena, and the fact that his head nearly reverted to its original form proved this.

With that said, Charlie remembered to check, touching his own furry face and long ears, finding no more shedding (?). His touch was still dry and fluffy, very pleasant to the touch.

“It seems Elena is fine.” He fumbled for a while and re-lit the small mining lamp to check on Elena. The young witch’s face was bloodless. With her eyes closed, she looked almost like a worn-out corpse, if not for the faint breathing.

Due to the urgency, the medicine Charlie used on her, although unsightly and foul-smelling, was indeed valuable and not something money could buy. He always carried it for emergencies, never expecting to use it on an adversary.

“What are you planning to do with her? Keep her?” Louis looked up, noticing that although her life was saved, she looked hardly better than dead. Louis’s strike hadn’t killed her instantly but had induced a deep coma.

Releasing her was out of the question. Her obsession with Charlie was both strange and intense. If she were let go, once recovered, she would likely continue causing trouble, especially now that Louis had exposed himself. Who knew what she might do upon seeing a face so similar to Charlie’s?

But since they were keeping her alive due to the curse, they at least needed to find a secure place to restrict her movements, which plainly meant imprisonment, which was safer. But Elena was no ordinary woman. Giving her a house and two maids to live quietly in the countryside wasn’t enough—not to mention maids, even ordinary men were no match for her. To confine her, manpower and meticulous planning were needed—something Charlie, who had spent most of his life in exile, likely couldn’t manage. Although Louis had the capability, being a Wolf cadre, his every move was monitored by the family, and any slip might lead to further investigation.

Charlie also felt the situation was troublesome.

Elena’s magical power was strong. Even assigning two mages specifically to guard her wasn’t necessarily secure, and legitimate mages had to report to the Association, not to mention participating in events like the Magic Congress and regular assessments—’guarding Witch Elena’ was certainly not a job to be made public.

He had indeed known many who later became mages, as well as some mentors with sufficient magical power to be fully trustworthy, but having vanished from the human world for years, suddenly reappearing to ask them to solve a difficult problem felt too presumptuous, even for someone as thick-skinned as Charlie.

“If it were in Pennigra, I could place her in the green forest,” Charlie worriedly said. “Without permission, she definitely can’t leave at will, and outsiders can’t easily enter—it’s a huge natural maze.”

“Don’t they have such places in Doran?” Louis asked. “Both continents are equally vast, with many unexplored, mysterious lands.” If necessary, he could commission a third party to scout suitable locations and personnel at an auction.

“I believe Doran does too. It’s just that this isn’t my territory. To restrict entry and ensure I understand enough to control the place is simply…” Charlie suddenly stopped speaking.

Doran did have such places, but he had always been reluctant to think about them.

Places that couldn’t be easily entered or left, where normal life could continue—someone had lived there for many years, and his friend had melted into a pile of tin there.

Daisy’s castle.

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The author has something to say:

Regarding the child, as long as the current Holy Grail is alive, no new Holy Grail will be born.

Priscilla’s pregnancy was accidental (subjectively, she didn’t want a child by Lestrop, and since Louis isn’t her husband, she definitely wouldn’t have willingly had his child), so whether Louis allows it or not doesn’t matter.

Many guessed in the previous chapter, the uncle still played them one last time as a final precaution to keep the secret, because he was destined to die young, and no one can guarantee that brothers who depended on each other as children wouldn’t grow apart as they grew older—that’s how suspicious he was.

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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 110

After Charlie finished speaking, the two of them fell silent for a moment. The small mining lamp beside Elena was the only light source in this pitch-black space, and the brothers sat there in the dark, looking at it.

“How long has it been?” Louis suddenly asked.

His question came out of nowhere, but Charlie understood.

Louis wanted to know how long he had been living with this “half-human” appearance.

“Five or six years—not that long,” Charlie said.

Elena had been searching for him everywhere since her graduation, but due to the uniqueness of his identity and his deliberate travels to remote places, it still took some time.

The identity Charlie had left at school was fake, but the emotions cultivated with the teachers and friends he met during those years were real. Elena was actually very meticulous when awake, and she located the northern small town where he was based on a few holiday cards Charlie had sent.

It was also because of this that Charlie later cut off all personal relationships from his school days, not entirely out of fear of Elena. The avoidance and caution he exhibited in front of others towards this girl, who later became a witch, were mainly to amuse naive and carefree people like Eugene and Shiloh, rationalizing his reclusive life and the existence of his “rabbit head”.

But being found by Elena made him realize that his semi-reclusive life was untenable. As long as one was connected to others, someone determined could trace him through his social activities, which meant that his so-called low-profile life was just a self-deceptive mirage. He needed to abandon everything more deeply and thoroughly and truly hide by changing his identity.

So Elena’s rabbit head curse gave him a second chance. Charlie took this opportunity to discard his past, crossed the continent, and finally settled in Maplewood, where no one had ever seen his true face.

“You must have done well. If it weren’t for various accidents, Elena would probably be the last person on the Doran continent to look for Charlie—I should have been more thorough; even changed the name Charlie… but…”

The twins’ unspoken understanding hadn’t diminished despite years of separation. Louis easily guessed what he hadn’t said.

“Did he give you this name?” Louis asked. “It’s a common name. At least three people selling lamb pies on the docks are named Charlie.”

“At the time, I thought he had deliberately chosen such an inconspicuous name to simplify my life. Later, I figured he was probably just too lazy to think of another.” Charlie looked at him. “That fits his character… How’s Fahim?”

“He’s dead,” Louis said calmly. “He died in the Willow Grove Villa four years ago—too sick. No one saw him the month before he died.”

“Including you?”

“Including me. Maybe you could have gone in, but I couldn’t.”

“I couldn’t either. Fahim liked you better, right?”

“If he liked me better, why didn’t he hold my hand and take me to school?”

Charlie finally laughed. “Are you finally admitting you were sulky because you thought uncle liked me better?”

Louis said, “It was my own choice. There’s nothing to be sulky about.”

Charlie moved around Elena’s feet to squeeze next to him. “You don’t think White Wolf Fahim would really hold someone’s hand and take them to school, do you? Or did the river water earlier make you too cold, giving you a high fever?”

Louis moved aside, and Charlie squeezed closer again.

“If you want to leave, I can stay,” Charlie said sincerely, although many years had passed.

Louis couldn’t exist in the form of two people, but there was always room for negotiation on who would take up the role of Louis. They not only had nearly identical appearances but also shared life experiences as if looking in a mirror from birth. Even though their personalities differed, playing each other wasn’t difficult.

Charlie’s words clearly meant that if Louis regretted staying with the Wolf Family, he could now switch places.

Another silence followed. Louis turned his head to look at Charlie’s rabbit head, suddenly stretched out his foot, and flipped the switch on the small mining lamp. With a click, they were enveloped in darkness again.

“Leaving is the right choice,” Louis said in the dark.

Born into the Wolf Family with the identity of the cursed Holy Grail, whichever path they took was bound to be fraught with hardship. From the moment of their birth, they had been deceiving the world and would continue to do so until death.

Charlie thought for a moment, then nudged him with his elbow. “Seriously, since Fahim is already dead, the oath we took shouldn’t count anymore, right?”

Louis didn’t respond.

“Why so serious—how about we don’t disclose the specifics of that one conversation and just check if what Fahim told us matches what he told you?” Charlie continued to coax.

“Throw that woman out, and I’ll discuss it with you,” Louis said coldly.

The stress of a constantly tense life made him instinctively distrust others. Even with Elena unconscious at the moment, Louis was reluctant to touch this dangerous topic in the presence of a third person.

“Alright, I was just curious,” Charlie said resignedly. “Don’t be mad.”

He reached for Louis’s hand again, and they sat in the dark. Although they didn’t speak aloud, they both understood that they were definitely thinking about the same thing.

Fifteen years ago, their uncle Fahim had met with them separately in a conversation that no third party knew about, marking the first time the twins had a secret unknown to the other brother. Fahim had made them swear on their lives never to reveal the content of that conversation to anyone.

Unlike Louis, who left Fortuna City early on, Charlie only remembered their uncle from his younger days. Although it was well-known that White Wolf Fahim’s congenital disease was incurable and he was destined to die young, in his childhood, the other was always youthful, energetic, and always up for pranks.

Even within the entire family, Fahim was a very special figure, both in appearance and character.

It was said that when he was born, doctors declared that this child, with skin and hair so shockingly white, would not survive a week, as he was as frail as the last handful of snow left in early spring, ready to melt away at any moment.

Despite being written off by even his parents, Fahim managed to survive. He used his outstanding talents and ruthless tactics beyond his age to constantly prove wrong all those who mocked and provoked him. By the time he reached adulthood, rumors circulated privately that, if not for the current family head being in the prime of life and Fahim’s short lifespan, he would have been the most formidable contender for the next Wolf King.

Nonetheless, Fahim was the pride of the family, especially when compared to such a sister.

Fahim’s mother was frail, and he was her only son. His father, although promiscuous, had only one mistress, who successfully gave birth to a daughter a few months older than Fahim. Due to the sparse population and the gentle nature of his wife, this illegitimate daughter was also brought into the mansion and raised alongside Fahim, with high familial expectations placed on her. She was even betrothed before reaching adulthood.

However, less than two months into the engagement, her protruding belly revealed that she was already pregnant before the engagement, at a time when her fiancé was still on a merchant ship abroad.

The scandal devastated her father’s reputation. Amid endless arguments and tears, the daughter, who refused to reveal the father of her child, was secretly disowned by the family. To the outside world, it was as if she had never been a family member. Naturally, the engagement was canceled, and the fiancé’s family received considerable properties as compensation for the broken engagement.

Though she was a mistress’ daughter, Fahim had grown up with her, and their relationship was quite good. He secretly arranged for people to take care of his sister, who was exiled, to secretly give birth (according to their father’s wishes, the child, born out of dishonor, was originally to be aborted). Fahim was the only family member to witness his nephew’s birth—a rare stroke of luck among misfortunes. When the Lamp Bearers appeared in that small town, aside from the childbirth woman, Fahim was the only one present who knew the full situation.

No one knows how the young Fahim managed to elude the Lamp Bearers, making them return empty-handed, but the appearance of these immortal beings couldn’t possibly escape the notice of the four prominent Black Gold Families. Their rare numbers also indicated that they needed to identify the Holy Grail of the generation among two newborns with nearly indistinguishable bloodlines. Twins were the only possibility.

Before the Black Gold Families, including his own surname, could react to the news, Fahim had already prepared another pair of deceased infants—perhaps killed by him or perhaps bought. In any case, Fahim ensured one thing: he had only one nephew, named Louis.

Although an impure Holy Grail could attract the Lamp Bearers, it was common knowledge that such couldn’t survive. The two Lamp Bearers, who didn’t stay long in the town, convinced the major families that this was yet another failed coincidence. Charlie and Louis, the twin brothers, grew up in secret, and years later, their uncle brought them to Fortuna City and even eventually restored Louis back to the family tree, taking over the position and influence he had managed for years.

He almost took the secret of which twin was the true Holy Grail to his grave: only a newborn covered in blood could be immediately detected by the Lamp Bearers, and the blue blood of the Holy Grail would turn into a color indistinguishable from that of a normal person within two hours. In other words, aside from the children’s mother and Fahim, who was present at the time, not even the twins themselves knew if they were the Holy Grail.

It wasn’t until they were nine years old that Fahim suddenly came to Fortuna City one night during the rainy season, which had already brought three days of torrential rain accompanied by deafening thunder.

He called each nephew into his study in turn and told them that, although they were getting older, sharing one identity would lead to increasingly noticeable discrepancies. As soon as anyone suspected something about that small town nine years earlier, they could be in danger of being killed at any moment, becoming fodder for the abyssal demon, serving as a beast that the Black Gold Families could manipulate at will.

They had to separate.

Fahim gave them the choice. That night, amid the thunder, this uncle, who was always elusive to Charlie, revealed who had the blue blood at birth.

“Your brother is the Holy Grail with the power to overturn the continent. I pricked your fingertips in order of birth. The firstborn’s blood was red.” Charlie still remembered the calm expression Fahim had as he sat at the large desk and told him this. “So, what is your choice?”

---

The author has something to say:

The uncle was both cold and decisive, a true Wolf, but he is indeed dead and won’t be coming back.

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

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

---

Chapter 109

Louis looked up at the sound but saw the newcomer dive down again without hesitation. Everything happened so quickly that Hasting, closest to them, could only watch as a huge black hole suddenly appeared in the water behind Louis, swallowing the trio in a moment and vanishing without a trace.

Darkness enveloped everyone’s sight. Louis closed his eyes briefly, confirming that he wasn’t suddenly having vision problems but had entered a strange and dry space. The cold river water at his waist and the slightly fishy air of the port had also disappeared.

What just happened?

Instinctively, he reached into his coat pocket to retrieve his lighter, but a voice echoed in the darkness. “Don’t move.”

Louis paused. He was certain he had never heard this voice before—it felt both unfamiliar and familiar, inexplicably tensing his body.

“It’s me, Louis,” said the rabbit-headed shopkeeper, as if seeing his movement. “Don’t light it—this is a Darby Belly Fish. Anything heating up inside it can irritate it. Wait a moment…”

There was a rustling sound as the other person seemed to be searching for something. Louis stood silently still for a while.

“Charlie?”

“Hm? How did you know? Oh, Elena must have talked a lot. After leaving Fortuna City, I did use that name for a long time.” The rabbit-headed shopkeeper finally found what he was looking for: a small ore lamp he had made himself, using luminescent moss that emitted light without producing heat, specifically designed for the peculiar needs of the Darby Belly Fish.

As for why he hadn’t offered this during their first ride—basically, the rabbit-headed shopkeeper did it on purpose. Because the species was so rare, he wouldn’t casually transport people on it, so the Darby Belly Fish weren’t used often. Observing passengers react in the darkness was one of his hobbies.

But this time, it was best to light things up to check on Elena’s condition.

Amid the tense situation, Charlie had only seen Louis stab Elena with a knife before more and more people headed to the dock. So, he simply pushed both into the mouth of the Darby Belly Fish to leave the scene immediately. Hasting might have seen it, but Charlie believed him to be trustworthy enough not to blab.

Louis pursed his lips, still unsure if he really wanted to see the face of the person he had once been closest to in the world, though that face was no different from his own.

But before he could hesitate much longer, there was a click, like something being shifted, and a flood of light suddenly filled the space. Louis squinted, half blinded by the light and half unwilling to face reality.

“Louis?” Charlie called again.

Louis sighed deeply in his heart and looked up.

Suddenly, a fuzzy-eared rabbit face appeared in front of him.

Louis: “?!?!”

“Hey, hey.” Charlie saw Louis raise his hand, knowing it was his instinctive gesture to attack—the shiny dagger was still in his grip. Immediately realizing his appearance had startled him, he said, “It’s me.”

He didn’t look at the dagger but instead reached out with his free hand, expertly grabbing Louis’s left hand, just holding three fingers from index to ring.

According to the person who had cared for them as brothers, this was almost a habit they had from birth. His motion was so fluid that Louis’s body remembered the sensation of those three fingers being encircled even before he saw his hand.

In this world, only one person would hold his hand this way, and he only allowed one person to do so.

Louis looked down at their clasped hands silently.

He had imagined many scenarios for their reunion and considered various actions he might take. But when the day came so suddenly and chaotically, Louis realized he couldn’t recall any of those imagined reactions.

Because whatever he did would be futile. He knew the person before him too well, including his thoughts and actions.

No matter his reaction, the other would likely act as if nothing had happened, insisting on holding or leaning on him until he reluctantly agreed not to pursue the matter further.

……

But the years apart had indeed been too long, and Louis’s prediction was slightly off because Charlie soon let go of him and instead shoved the ore lamp into his hands. “Light it up. I need to check on Elena.”

Louis then realized there was another person lying at their feet, barely alive—it was that rat-playing witch.

He stepped back half a step in disgust, prompting Charlie to call out again. “Get closer. I can’t see the wound.”

Louis then realized his brother was still as odd (naïve) as he had been in childhood.

He couldn’t be thinking of saving this witch, could he?

This woman had been after him. Her nerve-wracked appearance was enough to give children nightmares at night!

Not to mention now her hatred had spread to him.

Without raising his head, Charlie patiently explained, “Look at my head—the original breed was a Lloyd Country Rabbit, which is long-haired.”

While speaking, he confirmed that Elena still had a pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief, and began pulling out various bottles and containers, arranging them at his feet.

Louis said emotionlessly, “I can’t tell. So, is this some special breed worth close appreciation?”

“No, it’s just a common rabbit in the south,” Charlie explained as he cleaned around Elena’s back wound. “I meant they usually have very long fur, but now it has become short.”

As Charlie quickly cleaned the wound area, he continued, “This is Elena’s curse—it weakens when she is weak, and if she dies, the magic will disappear completely.”

So every time Elena was injured or lost control, causing her magic power to drop sharply, he had to find a place to hide and wait for her to recover, although this wasn’t frequent.

Louis finally squatted down. “So she cursed you.”

“Yes.” Charlie snapped his fingers. “Help me out. Flatten her a bit so I can stop the bleeding. You really went for the vitals there. Good thing she’s not foolish enough to go unprotected.”

Elena’s seemingly ordinary dress was actually a magical item, probably made by herself, but its purpose wasn’t protection but transformation.

Charlie carefully turned back the fabric near the wound, revealing a layer of magic circles underneath.

They were indeed products of the same school. The design philosophy of this magical item was similar to the dragon-shaped flier Charlie had tinkered with before, except Charlie transferred bird souls onto several chairs, while Elena transferred part of a bird’s soul onto the person wearing this dress—the wearer would become lighter and be seen as kin by crows, even capable of flying with a flock. This was probably one of her means of escape.

Although the principles were the same, Charlie would never have directly applied magic to a human body, as it was illegal.

It seemed that Elena had no reservations about how far she took this path, which explained her notorious reputation.

“This magic temporarily changed her internal structure. You didn’t pierce her heart, which is good.” Charlie magically produced a bottle of green, snot-like medicine, slathering it all over Elena’s wound with a somewhat pungent odor. “As long as the heart isn’t damaged, it’s okay.”

After swiftly completing the task, Charlie looked up to meet Louis’s skeptical gaze.

He knew that look all too well—it was the face Louis made every time he lied or boasted as a child.

Charlie: “??”

“What’s your relationship with her?” Despite intending to appear indifferent, Louis couldn’t help but ask.

“We attended the same school many years ago, but back then she wasn’t so,” Charlie paused, “obstinate.”

In front of his brother, Charlie dropped the pretense of his past grandeur and accomplishments, which Louis would never have bought into anyway.

“Elena was talented but very sensitive, often overreacting to others’ attitudes, making her somewhat friendless at school.”

That was putting it mildly. Elena was extreme in her likes and dislikes. When she first started school, her younger age and unfamiliar surroundings didn’t fully showcase this behavior.

Charlie first heard about Elena through underclassmen gossip, mentioning a new student who had set another student’s bed on fire—an impressive feat since they were only taught magic theory in the first year, with practical magic introduced in the second. It was unclear how she managed it or why the conflict between the young girls escalated so severely, but both were disciplined and assigned to different dormitories.

At the time, Charlie didn’t think much of it, and it was much later that he understood the full story: Elena was introverted and unremarkable in appearance, not making friends easily, and initially kept to herself, unlike most girls who preferred to socialize.

Eventually, she made a friend, a cheerful young girl. They seemed inseparable, attending classes, visiting the washroom, and dining together. Everyone thought they were close until they unexpectedly fell out. Elena, being more powerful, ended up burning the girl’s bed.

The girl later told her friends that while she was willing to befriend Elena, she couldn’t meet her expectations—Elena wanted them to be together constantly, doing everything as a pair. But the girl had other friends and needed her space, finding Elena’s clinging possessiveness increasingly suffocating, leading to a bitter end to their uneven relationship.

“Oh,” Louis drawled. “So, you were the second girl.”

Elena had caused such a stir as a freshman and wasn’t particularly likable, so most students probably stayed away to avoid trouble.

If, at that time, a senior student who was exceptionally nice and considerate and who didn’t care about her bad reputation or her clumsy ways, started showing her kindness, falling for him would be a natural reaction.

The only issue was that this was simply his nature. He was equally gentle to everyone.

Charlie raised his hands helplessly. “It’s a school tradition, with upperclassmen guiding underclassmen one-on-one through their first practical lesson, randomly assigned.”

Getting assigned to Elena was a coincidence, and indeed, Charlie wouldn’t have coldly rejected any underclassman girl or deliberately distanced himself from her just because of rumors. In fact, his continuous popularity at the academy as the most favored male student stemmed from this—everyone loves a good-looking and kind top student, right?

Being a well-liked upperclassman, Elena and other students who admired Charlie felt that Charlie’s care for her was unnecessary and even resented it.

But like in her freshman year, Elena would express her feelings too drastically. Fortunately, Charlie graduated before her. Students weren’t allowed to leave the school freely, so Charlie thought he had seen the last of Elena. But this was merely his wishful thinking. As Elena grew older, her psychological dependence on Charlie only intensified, to the point that she could see no one else but him.

“She came looking for me right after graduation, but I couldn’t meet her expectations. Her research in school was already on the fringe, and the teachers probably didn’t want to bother restraining her, so they just let her graduate. In any case, the years didn’t make her any more mature or calm. Her reactions to rejection were even more intense than when she was young,” Charlie said, sitting down fully now, stretching out his legs, half his face vanishing into the darkness. “She was a child I had looked after. I had reservations and was unprepared for her to curse me.”

Actually, he reacted quickly, avoiding most of the curse, which was why he only ended up with a rabbit’s head.

Others might not understand, but Louis knew that Elena’s move arguably did Charlie a favor.

Magic that permanently altered human form wasn’t allowed, and temporary shape-changing magical devices were merely superficial toys at best, perhaps changing hair color or the like. So for Charlie, who had left the academic ivory tower, this curse was nearly perfect. Without much struggle, he happily embraced his new rabbit-headed identity, packed his bags, and went as far as the Pennigra continent.

---

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

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

---

Chapter 108

Louis halted his steps, eyeing the swarming black tide of rats approaching from the direction of Dock Street.

He had intended to order the Azalea to set sail early, but judging from the sky full of crows, the waters weren’t much safer.

A young bodyguard from the Wolf family threw off his black coat, and as it hit the ground, a wall of flames, as tall as a man’s shin, erupted, illuminating the dock with a burst of light and halting the advance of the rats. However, the rats didn’t retreat. Instead, they huddled together, seemingly strategizing their next move.

Another bodyguard glanced at the ships beside the dock.

“I’m afraid that won’t work,” he told his colleague.

Animals feared fire, but rats controlled by someone wouldn’t act on instinct or reason. If they charged, they could extinguish the firewall with sheer numbers.

“Watch those crows!” Pambrick also shouted. “If the witch is targeting us, boarding any ship might draw the crows to it.”

“There’s a mage on the Azalea. He can keep the crows at bay while we board,” suggested the man who had shed his coat. As if in response to his words, the gangway of the Azalea opened, and the ornately carved stairway descended with the sound of gears turning.

Louis’s expression was grim. “Escaping to a ship might avoid the rats and crows, but not the witch.”

A few hours ago, he had explicitly ordered that the safety of Priscilla on the Azalea take precedence. Logically, they wouldn’t lower the gangway amid a dockside disturbance. The only explanation would be that Priscilla knew what was happening and had instructed them to let those trapped on the dock board the ship.

“Hiding isn’t a solution,” agreed another man. “Charles will bring people from the other side of Dock Street. Alman, conserve some magic for clearing the way, and we can retreat to the east side.”

The east side led to another route to Dock Street. If they could bypass the encirclement of rats, they could meet up with the main group. With the witch now revealed, there were plenty of bounty hunters in the city eager to claim her life, and soon, the roles of hunter and prey would naturally reverse.

Alman, the man who had created the firewall with his coat, was also a mage. However, his magic wasn’t as potent as Elena’s currently demonstrated, and facing her in a magic duel wasn’t feasible.

At this moment, the firewall was trembling under the sheer number of rats outside, and indeed, it seemed to falter. Just then, several watermelon-sized fireballs fell from the sky into the midst of the rats, causing chaos like cold drops in hot oil. The rats scurried in panic, nearly extinguishing several sections of the firewall.

The group looked up to see a mage from the Azalea continuously hurling fireballs at the swarm of rats.

“Tell him to pull up the gangway. We’re not boarding!” Alman shouted to his colleague. “Don’t waste magic and provoke the rats… Ah.”

Their warning came a bit late. The continuous impact of the fireballs incited the rats into a frenzy. Temporarily overtaken by instinct, they heedlessly trampled over their own and breached the firewall, the flames visibly dying as they did. Faced with thousands of rats, the group had no choice but to flee.

Louis was at the forefront, leaping onto a neatly stacked pile of wooden crates at the edge of the dock, covered with a tarp to keep them dry, which hadn’t yet been loaded onto a ship.

Elena must be nearby. Controlling such a scale of disturbance remotely was implausible. But the dock had been cleared. Where could she be hiding? On a ship? Or still on the dock? Now, other than the sea of rats, there was only the foreman lying by the carriage…

The foreman.

Louis widened his eyes, observing the middle-aged man still lying there, unresponsive. The river of rats continually ran past him, his half-bloodied body and the brown-green striped trousers stark against the black mass.

After being stabbed with the holy light sword, the puppet enchantment had drained away with the blood from the wound. Yet with such a severe injury, aside from an initial scream, the remaining strength had only allowed him to moan softly. As the rats passed by and everyone fled for their lives, no one thought to carry him along. Louis thought he’d have been gnawed to a skeleton by now if he hadn’t looked back.

Why did the rats specifically avoid him?

By then, Alman and the others had also climbed up, with rats already at their feet. They broke down several crates to make makeshift torches, which Alman helped swing to fend off the rats attempting to climb onto the cargo. But their manpower was limited, and increasingly agile rats broke through their defenses, biting at any opportunity. Pambrick, unfortunately, got bitten on the ear by a rat that had leaped onto his shoulder, causing him to cry out in pain and nearly fall into the water if not for his comrades catching him.

Louis kicked over a crate that several rats had climbed upon. The box crashed back to the ground, splitting apart and revealing the straw and wine barrels used as fillers inside.

Amid the chaos, Alman, the only one who could use magic, was frantic. Louis handed his light sword to another young man.

“It has a holy circle,” he said succinctly. “Throw it over there—I suspect Elena is in that direction.”

His gaze rested on the still unmoving foreman.

The man immediately understood Louis’s intent but chuckled wryly. “You’re giving me too much credit with that distance.”

The so-called light sword was relatively lightweight. Initially designed for civil officials to defend themselves in chaotic situations, it could penetrate the defenses of lightly armored assassins at close range. Compared to a knight’s heavy sword or the great swords used by warriors, it was significantly lighter and smaller but still made of steel and retained its lethality. Truly using it as a dart or dagger was a bit far-fetched.

Louis gave him a cold look. In the time it took for their brief exchange, the relentless surge of rats had already started to destabilize the heavy pile of goods. Spurred by his gaze, the man, putting aside all else, took a deep breath and adopted a javelin-throwing stance. He hurled the sword with all his might, the cold gleam of the blade piercing the drizzle, tracing a silver arc directly towards the foreman!

However, the distance was indeed too great.

The group watched as the sword gradually slowed in mid-air, curving downward about twenty yards short of the foreman and sticking into the ground. The holy circle it carried did activate, clearing a large circular area in the black mass of rats.

Louis could only sigh in frustration.

Knowing he had botched it, the man nearly collapsed under Louis’s stern gaze. Just as he was about to make an excuse, a distinct whooshing sound cut through the air. An arrow shot from afar with lightning speed, aimed precisely at the foreman’s head.

Almost simultaneously, the seemingly unconscious foreman convulsed, rolling just in time to narrowly dodge the arrow—though it grazed his shoulder.

Immediately, the rats nearby surged towards him like a boiling pot, covering him completely in moments. From a distance, only a vague human silhouette was discernible.

“Be careful!” Alman shouted, drawing everyone’s attention back just in time to see that the pile of goods, which had been stable moments before, now teetered on the verge of collapse due to the frantic activity of the rats.

“Into the water.” Louis decided on the spot. He took a couple of steps back and was the first to leap into the chilly canal waters.

Alman and the others, no longer able to hold their ground, followed suit, jumping off the crates with splashes.

With no torches to fend them off, the swarm of rats quickly overran the cargo pile. The chewing and scrabbling sounds of their gnawing made a grating noise on the wood and tarp.

As a fire mage, Alman naturally struggled with water and had to be semi-dragged by his companions—they couldn’t stay on the rat-infested shore, but the Wolf reinforcements were already arriving. Explosions of fire burst on the dock, much more intense than Alman’s earlier efforts.

Pambrick swam up to Louis. “The boat is coming soon, sir—”

He didn’t finish his sentence before Louis abruptly pushed him under the water, pulling him to dive deeper. Underwater, Pambrick’s eyes widened in alarm when he saw, not far away, a crow also diving into the water, its sharp beak aimed downward, penetrating the water to a depth of half a meter.

If they had been a bit slower, Pambrick would likely have another bloody hole in his body, which wasn’t a pleasant prospect in this weather and icy water.

But at that moment, things took a turn. More crows began to drop into the water, one after another. Taking advantage of the moment they surfaced to breathe, they saw arrows flying from the shore, scattering the crows that had blanketed the sky like small, dark statues perched on ships’ rigging.

Several swift warships bearing the Wolf Family’s crest approached, which were the reinforcements.

“Make them aware of the crows,” Louis said, looking up at the still overcast sky. He suddenly took a deep breath and dove back under the water.

Pambrick: “Sir?!”

Louis ignored the calls from his subordinates. Having grown up in this port city, he was an excellent swimmer, though he didn’t frequent the docks. He used his memory to navigate underwater towards the dock, moving faster and faster.

The Wolf Family reinforcements were arriving, and bounty hunters still pursuing Elena would soon join them. Louis could easily board a ship and watch from a distance as the witch who had put him in this dire situation was burned at the stake.

But that would only work if she were mute.

Thinking back to the puppet’s hoarse question, “Where’s Charlie?” made Louis’s temples throb.

Charlie…

So that was his name now, or a name he’d once used.

His brother, whom he hadn’t seen in many years.

Even though she was a pain, Elena’s methods were slippery and elusive, which probably encouraged her to cling to him at the sight of his face, thinking they were closely linked, or perhaps wanting to use him to force Charlie to appear.

Louis cared little for Elena’s fate. Indeed, it would be best if this uninvited woman died—yet he couldn’t let her spout nonsense in public.

There had been enough ambiguity in the puppet’s words that Pambrick, who was closest, likely hadn’t caught on. But now with Wolf Family members in place, if she were to say something like “What’s the relationship between Louis and Charlie?” or “Let Louis hand over Charlie”, the ensuing trouble and suspicion would be far harder to manage.

Louis surfaced to take a breath, confirmed Elena’s location, and quietly avoided the ships moored at the dock, swimming towards a staircase that was half underwater and half above water.

Elena stood beside the carriage with her disguise shed. She looked nothing like a witch associated with crows and rats: dressed in a simple grape-colored dress, her face slightly jaundiced with a few freckles on her nose, her expression sullen with hatred as she stared at a young man standing afar, the very one who had shattered her disguise with an arrow.

That young man, Hasting, regarded her indifferently, still holding his bow, calculating his next move.

A direct shot wouldn’t kill her—not with Mr. Charlie making a fuss.

Nor could he simply let her go—her relentless obsession with Mr. Charlie now entangled with Louis meant she saw him as a bright, shiny target, given his prominent public position as a Wolf, unlike Charlie, who could hide his identity and roam freely.

This time, his work was very troublesome.

Hasting thought this as he raised his bow towards the witch.

All the rats on the dock stood up, facing Hasting, a sight that would have terrified any ordinary person.

But Hasting was unshaken. He raised his bow, and shot an arrow aimed at Elena’s left leg.

The next second, the swarm of rats spontaneously gathered and surged up, like a constantly erupting half-man-high black fountain in front of Elena. However, Hasting’s arrow, as if carrying some kind of sharp barrier, effortlessly pierced through their defense. Elena quickly retreated, watching incredulously as the long arrow landed just an inch from pinning her foot.

“I curse you!” she screamed uncontrollably. “Whoever you are, I curse you to grow greasy feathers and live your life eating only worms and beetles!”

Hasting, as if he hadn’t heard, notched another arrow.

Elena’s curse had no effect on him, and more people were coming from the direction of Dock Street, including several mages. The chaotic magical reactions around Hasting created a shimmering aura of light and shadow behind him.

Even if the Empire’s most venerable archmages were present, they likely wouldn’t be able to affect Hasting.

Realizing this, Elena felt helpless and waved her arms defensively as she retreated to the water’s edge.

This was precisely why Hasting hadn’t aimed for her vitals. Since he couldn’t kill her, he intended to drive her away—before the wave of bounty hunters could arrive from behind.

Elena glanced back at the river. Her crows were clashing with the distant archers, and Louis was nowhere to be seen. Today was doomed to end in failure, no matter what.

She resentfully stared at Hasting’s face, as if to imprint his features deeply into her memory. Her purple dress gradually turned black and spread upward, and a small flock of crows flew towards her.

Just then, a figure suddenly emerged from the water. Hasting’s pupils contracted, and before he could react, the figure plunged a dagger into Elena’s back.

Almost simultaneously, someone released a large balloon they were hanging from and descended from the sky, landing on the deck of the nearest double-decker passenger ship. The moment they touched down, they reached up to steady the top hat on their head.

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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 107

“Larry? Are you insane!” Pambrick grasped his long umbrella with both hands, blocking the foreman’s hands that were reaching for his neck. The middle-aged foreman, who hadn’t engaged in physical labor for a long time, showed astonishing strength at this moment, pushing Pambrick backward to the extent that his back was arched to its limit, the umbrella creaking ominously as if about to break.

Larry looked decidedly off-kilter. Although Pambrick blocked his forward lunge, Larry still struggled to move past him toward the carriage, where Louis sat, watching them coldly.

Louis had sensed something was amiss when he noticed the foreman approaching the carriage uninvited. Instead of getting out of the carriage to avoid him, Louis sat inside, rolling up his sleeves—Pambrick came back halfway and immediately noticed the foreman’s aberrant behavior, blocking him just ten steps from the carriage.

The deranged witch had obviously mistaken someone for another, but admittedly, hiding her tracks well enough to pinpoint his location amidst so many targets was an impressive feat.

However…

Thinking of Elena’s ordinary appearance and obsessive behavior, Louis frowned deeply.

Had his taste really deteriorated that much? To become entangled with such a woman.

Priscilla was already aboard the ship, and the Azalea’s defenses weren’t easily breached. Other ships at the harbor had already retracted their gangways early out of deference to the Countess, serendipitously avoiding the possibility of the witch boarding. There might even be bored tourists peering out of windows now, curious about what was happening on the dock.

Louis straightened his sleeves and put on a waterproof cloak, then stepped out of the other side of the carriage, pulling out what looked like a decorative, light sword with a silver and black blade from inside the door—a perfect match for the carriage’s stately yet simple style.

Pambrick was almost overwhelmed. Larry’s grip had twisted the black umbrella out of shape, and just as it was about to snap, he suddenly looked up—though his view was blocked by the carriage, he seemed to smell Louis’s scent, stretching his neck with a bizarre expression of eager desire.

At that moment, the clouds parted slightly, and Pambrick, at close range, saw Larry’s eyes turning a dull gray. Considering the recent rumors in town, he cursed under his breath, glanced at the decorative collar clip on his shirt front, which included a holy spell. Today, the temperature had dropped, and he wore a thick wool coat buttoned up for decorum, now feeling only a faint warmth from beneath the coat, which was completely ineffective against the delirious Larry.

“Step aside.” Louis’s voice came from behind, and although Pambrick was older, his reaction was swift. Almost as soon as Louis spoke, he released his hold and crouched down, and Larry, propelled by inertia, nearly fell onto him. Louis swiftly kicked, sending Larry rolling to one side before he quickly stood up again.

Without needing instructions from Louis, Pambrick sounded an alarm. In recent years, Louis had grown to dislike making a show of his status everywhere, but that didn’t mean he would stay unprotected in public for long.

Larry tilted his head to look at Louis, wary of the sword in his hand. His head shook oddly, not like a human but more like a rapt bird.

Louis’s light sword bore a mage’s engraved holy circle, effective against vampires and creatures of black magic. Behind Pambrick, several figures dressed in black were rushing towards them, with the faint sound of horse hooves in the distance.

Larry didn’t approach further but seemed indifferent to the gathering crowd. He awkwardly moved his neck as if trying to get a better view of Louis’s face, and then, under Pambrick’s astonished gaze, he strangely stuck out his tongue and spoke with a slurred voice. “Where… is he?”

Louis frowned and stepped forward before he repeated himself. Although slightly deflected by Larry’s blocking, the blade still pierced his left shoulder, leaving a bloody wound as blood mixed with the thin rain, quickly staining half his body red.

But Larry’s scream wasn’t due to the wound but because the sword left a mark like a burn from flames on his flesh, the imprint of the holy circle.

The Wolf Family arrived before the sheriffs, restraining Larry, who writhed on the ground. Louis tossed the light sword to Pambrick, muttered a command, then turned and walked towards the Azalea.

……

“Something happened at the dock.” Shivers stood by the ship’s rail, setting down his binoculars. His blonde hair was wet from the fine rain dripping down his ears and soaking his collar.

Eugene, lacking binoculars, shrank back his neck and shivered. “I’ll go tell them.”

He was about to turn back when he saw the rabbit-headed shopkeeper and the Duke also emerge, with Hall standing behind the Duke, holding a sturdy-looking umbrella.

“Did Priscilla board?” The Duke squinted towards the dock.

“Twenty minutes ago, the Azalea retracted its gangway,” Shivers reported. “But there’s been a disturbance on the dock. Someone suddenly went mad and attacked a carriage. And the people inside it.”

The rabbit-headed shopkeeper adjusted his pocket monocular and aimed it at the dock. “The workers have been evacuated—probably because of the Countess boarding. There’s much more space than usual. The carriage… Ah.”

He saw the distinct black carriage belonging to the Wolf Family, linking it to Priscilla, who had just boarded. The identity of the carriage’s owner was clear.

The Duke took Shivers’s binoculars, adjusting the focus to the maximum. Due to the limited craftsmanship of the lenses, the images were slightly distorted but still clearly showed two people struggling in the rain, locked in a standoff.

That awkward, bizarre motion was somewhat familiar. The Duke put down the binoculars, flicking his finger against the tube of the rabbit-headed shopkeeper’s monocular.

This gesture seemed to snap the rabbit-headed shopkeeper out of a daze. He looked up, appearing somewhat bewildered.

“Enchanted puppet,” the Duke stated succinctly. “Is it Elena?”

“Probably.” The rabbit-headed shopkeeper passed the monocular to Eugene, who had been craning his neck, and after a moment of thought, said, “I better go down.”

“Hasting is down there.” The Duke frowned.

This was a double precaution Dwight had arranged for his sister, allowing a Brandenburg Knight to lurk near the dock to handle emergencies.

The reason he hadn’t intervened in the now-occurring disturbance was that Hasting’s task was solely to escort Priscilla, not to maintain dock security.

As long as Hasting was there, not even two Elenas could board the ship, neither the Azalea nor their current vessel.

The rabbit-headed shopkeeper shook his head. “No, I’m worried about Louis.”

The Duke raised an eyebrow. “Worried he’s not a match for a witch? Such a fool wouldn’t be sitting in the Wolf Family’s chair.”

The shopkeeper looked at him, remaining silent.

He wasn’t worried that Louis couldn’t handle Elena—quite the opposite. Even if Louis himself was confident, the Wolf family wouldn’t leave a senior cadre in danger. There must be Wolf people not far from the dock, probably obscured by the rain, but they would soon notice this incident and arrive. The attack wouldn’t last long.

Elena, a witch who never knew when to quit, was likely nearby. If she confirmed that Louis was Charlie, then this wasn’t a simple case of puppet enchantment to deal with, and Charlie had a bad feeling about this.

The tricky part was that, stepping randomly into Elena’s sphere of influence, once she targeted someone, it was difficult to get away without losing a layer of skin.

But to let this usually solitary witch continued to provoke the Wolf Family, she might end up dying at the hands of the pack, and all curses passed through her hands would vanish like morning dew under sunlight.

No.

He’d rather streak than revert to his original form here, especially with Louis also present.

The Duke didn’t quite understand the rabbit-headed shopkeeper’s resolution, but his tragically heroic demeanor was indeed puzzling.

“Just go if you want to,” Dwight said nonchalantly. “Why the look? Elena won’t kill you.”

If she was as infatuated with him as the rabbit-headed shopkeeper said, she’d likely want to capture him alive.

At most, she might have a bizarre taste and want to make him into a specimen that couldn’t run away, but she certainly wouldn’t act immediately.

“Elena might not, but Louis might.” Charlie muttered under his breath, though no one but himself heard it.

“Which one is Mr. Charlie’s brother?” Eugene was still eagerly looking. “I can’t see clearly… The older one definitely isn’t. The other one—tsk—why is he wearing a cloak!”

Shiloh didn’t dare to snatch the binoculars from the Duke or the Knight Commander, so he had to pester Eugene. “It’s your eyesight that’s bad. Let me have a look. Which one?”

Rabbit-headed shopkeeper: “…Why do I feel like nobody really believes my self-description?”

Knowing he was irresistibly handsome should be enough. Why bother to scrutinize Louis’s face so much.

The gangway to disembark was already set up, and Shiloh, without binoculars, persisted, “Do you want me to go help you? Although I’m not as resistant to magic as Hasting, I’m quite confident in just fighting.”

The rabbit-headed shopkeeper was melancholic. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m really not interested in fighting.”

Eugene’s eyes never left the dock. “They really do look alike, but their styles are quite different. Wow, your brother really plays rough.”

Eugene unilaterally felt that Louis seemed livelier than the always composed rabbit-headed shopkeeper—he was probably the younger brother.

In the midst of talking, he just saw Louis kick the foreman away with a clean and decisive move, the force of which made even Eugene wince in pain from afar.

The Duke wasn’t interested in watching them fight, but he was curious about Louis, who was said to resemble Charlie. Tempted by Eugene, he picked up the binoculars again.

As Eugene said, most of Louis’s face was hidden by the hood of his cloak, and with the attackers now subdued, he made no more grand movements. Dwight, bored, glanced around and didn’t spot any sign of the witch, but noticed the people on the dock suddenly tensing up.

“What’s happening?” Eugene also noticed something was amiss. “What are they looking at?”

The Duke’s hand tightened on the binoculars. He saw a swelling wave of black emerging at the edge of the dock steps—but that side led to Dock Street, not the water.

Shivers took the binoculars from Eugene and looked. “Is that rats? Why are there so many?”

The teeming, roiling black wave was indeed a large group of rats!

Even Shiloh didn’t dare be overly confident now. It was one thing to fight a human; it was another to deal with such nimble, small creatures in such numbers. Even armored, it was hard to emerge unscathed from an onslaught of ants, let alone rats.

The sight of so many rats changed everyone’s expressions aboard the ship. Eugene looked up inadvertently and noticed many crows had gathered near the dock but were unusually silent, like small black statues nailed to the high ship masts.

Strangely, though the crows filled the ships far and near, they completely avoided the ship the Duke and others were on, as well as a few nearby passenger ships, as if an invisible shield was keeping the crows at bay.

This inexplicable luck didn’t lighten anyone’s mood.

“Are these rats and crows also Elena’s magic?” Shivers turned to look at Charlie.

It’s well-known that witches liked to command such creatures, but to control such a massive throng at once was shocking.

“She’s always been into niche research, and it’s been many years since I last saw her. She’s made significant progress.” The rabbit-headed shopkeeper grimly smiled. “This isn’t something an ordinary witch could manage. She’s serious this time.”

Magic wasn’t an inexhaustible force conjured from thin air. Aside from the relatively minor energy drain of casting curses, performing magic and creating magical artifacts consumed a considerable amount of energy. Witches were still humans. Controlling so many creatures far exceeded the usual scope—even using potions to enhance power or using appropriate magical tools, this level of exertion could easily leave the caster comatose or dead.

So the sheer scale of the activity took everyone by surprise, making Charlie second-guess himself. Was Elena’s pursuit really so relentless, or did she have another purpose altogether?

“If we don’t get into the water or on a boat, the people on the dock will die.” The Knight Commander looked grim.

Other merchant and passenger ships wouldn’t allow boarding under these circumstances, except for the Azalea, which was owned by the Wolf Family.

And Priscilla was also on that ship.

Even if a stranger sought help, she would find it difficult to remain indifferent, let alone when it was the father of her child at risk.

The Duke inhaled sharply. “Notify Hasting.”

---

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

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

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Chapter 106

Priscilla felt her breathing become difficult, her body increasingly heavy, and almost every night, sleep eluded her, significantly draining her spirit. Fortunately, Erica was very capable, shielding her from many unnecessary social engagements. Even so, her exhaustion and weakness were quite evident.

“Mr. Ceylan is at the dock. You…” Although Erica knew about Priscilla’s secretive relationship with Louis, especially at such a critical time, the last thing she needed was any controversy that might jeopardize whether the child was Lestrop’s, but she couldn’t help but mention it.

Priscilla shook her head.

“We better maintain our current employer-employee relationship. I’m a wealthy Countess, and he’s a host for the Wolf Family.”

But you want to see him, don’t you?

Erica didn’t voice this thought. She had fully inherited her father’s ability to read situations and knew that if her mistress had made up her mind, further persuasion was useless. She then slightly opened the curtains, as the rain was lessening.

If the rain really stopped before sunset, they could’ve been less hurried. However, the city had been uneasy lately. The Black Gold Families thought it could affect Priscilla and strongly recommended that she board the ship as soon as possible.

“Has the rain stopped?” Priscilla asked, not hearing the rain anymore and tilting her head.

“It’s lessened.” Taking advantage of the fading daylight, Erica opened the curtains wider, allowing Priscilla, who was reclining in a soft chair, to see outside. Dark magic usually avoided sunlight, and curtains must be completely drawn after sunset to block any prying eyes hidden in the darkness.

The confrontation with Lestrop was almost reaching a conclusion, and Priscilla needed to guard against scrutiny from Mokwen… or assassination.

But she didn’t seem too anxious.

“Thank you, Erica,” Priscilla said softly. “You don’t know how grateful I am to have you here.” Perhaps knowing her brother was nearby and successfully boarding the ship had comforted her. Her tone was as gentle as ever, but unusually light.

Sensing this, Erica carefully poured her a warm medicinal tea, letting her hold it in her hands. She softly said, “You don’t need to thank me. Everyone has been worried about you these past years. There was fierce competition when the master decided to travel. If it wasn’t for a backache flaring up, my father would have insisted on staying behind to personally ensure your health.”

Priscilla indeed smiled. “The doctor has always said it would flare up once chilled. The castle isn’t as warm as the manor. Please tell him to dress more casually when he’s not on duty. Dwight won’t mind.”

The former Duke and Duchess passed away too early, and the steward nearly raised the siblings as his own children, with Priscilla especially close to him. Hearing Erica mention him brought back memories, brightening Priscilla’s spirits and even making her chatty.

“When I was little, I heard in the kitchen that your father was a charming rogue in his youth. I hardly believed it. As long as I remember, he has been at Brandenburg, steady and kind, always in a neat long coat. He’s Dwight’s most reliable right hand, and I could never imagine his roguish past until I met you, which made me think there might be some truth in what they said.”

Priscilla was two years older than Erica. At her wedding, she was still a young girl, not to mention the still undeveloped Erica. Reunited, Priscilla was initially stunned, as Erica, who used to train with the knights out of interest, was always sunburned and short, making it impossible to predict that she would grow into her current handsome appearance.

“Father is old, and the master wouldn’t agree to him accompanying him, so I was arranged to come.” Erica said, “I’ve been worried about you too.”

When the Duke left Brandenburg, the once vibrant greenhouse was a scene of decline, with the flower wall hanging barely on it, and no method could revive it. Not just Dwight, but everyone at Brandenburg was deeply concerned for their distant Lady.

“The rose is a blessing given to the Dwight family by the forest nymphs, and I think it’s connected not just to my body but also to my thoughts,” Priscilla said somewhat distantly as she looked at her teacup. “No matter how smooth my life appears to others… I am always missing Lemena, every moment.”

She had never revealed these thoughts to anyone, not to Lestrop or Ceylan.

“I miss the fragrant greenhouse, the golden wheat waves visible from the tower, the mist and waterfalls in the forest, and all of you. Perhaps this intense longing is what the rose thinks that I never left.”

Because pregnancy had weakened her, it was indeed a primary reason for the rose’s wilting, but according to Dwight, these signs had appeared even earlier, around the time she decided not to be weak and planned to take over the southern territory from Lestrop.

The rose had seen her resolve before she did.

Erica looked at her worriedly.

“Will you not go back then?”

If that was the case, then Lemena’s…

“The rose will not wither.” Priscilla reassured her, patting her hand. “No matter what the outcome, the child will return to Brandenburg with you all, carrying my will. With him there, the rose will bloom again.”

This made Erica even more anxious, undoubtedly preparing for the future delivery. No matter how capable Erica was, childbirth was beyond her expertise.

And for women—especially those not strong physically—the risks involved in childbirth were unpredictable and not something that could be resolved by wealth or high status.

Recently, Priscilla’s spirit had been low, and Erica had been avoiding thinking negatively, but Priscilla herself was quite resigned.

“The child will go back with us. Are you sure?” Erica decided to skirt around the ominous topic. “After all, the child’s father is here.”

Although their secret relationship couldn’t be disclosed, the child being in Mokwen was much closer than being on another continent, and once taken away, it was hard to say when they would see each other again.

“Our relationship is over, and to him, the child is more like an accident,” Priscilla softly said. “He’s very gentle and would surely protect this child with his life.”

He would protect him, but not necessarily cherish him.

Erica frowned. “I don’t understand.”

Her tone almost suggested the father was not welcoming of the child. How could there be a father who would reject his own child?

And judging by their attitudes, they clearly still care about each other. Priscilla, needless to say, had not only arranged the trip meticulously but was also personally accompanying it. Although the two didn’t have many private interactions, Erica could feel the extent of the other’s concern, which was not a display of indifference or lack of emotion.

Priscilla didn’t answer immediately but instead asked her, “Erica, have you ever been in love with someone?”

Erica instinctively wanted to say no, but she hesitated as the words reached her lips.

“I’ll take a wild guess, someone from the knights?” Priscilla teased her.

Erica, not one to be shy or coy, laughed in response. “No.”

Perhaps it was her straightforward nature, her handsome appearance coupled with robustness, meticulous care, and grace that made her as popular as the knights. Many had expressed their affection for her, but unlike those knights who put fighting before love, Erica had never truly had a romantic partner.

“Then the person is not currently with you, and perhaps you haven’t really been together?” Priscilla said, “That’s something you only understand after you’ve actually spent time together. Ceylan, he…”

She paused to choose her words. “He doesn’t love me.”

Erica’s expression changed immediately, but Priscilla laughed. “Wait, let me finish. He doesn’t love me, but he has given me the most care and respect within his capabilities. I initiated this relationship, and I believe if I continued to make demands, he wouldn’t leave me.”

“This…” Erica looked conflicted.

This didn’t fit the script of the uncommitted playboy she had imagined. How come it sounded like her mistress was the one playing with emotions?

Priscilla explained, “It’s not that he doesn’t want to love me. He just doesn’t know how to love me. Ceylan… He doesn’t even love himself. Sometimes, he gives me the feeling that no matter what happens, nothing can make him care more about himself. Of course, it could also be because we haven’t spent enough time together for me to fully understand him.”

But one thing she was sure of: if Ceylan didn’t love himself and didn’t love Priscilla, then he couldn’t feel love for the child that resulted from their union either.

He was willing to accept responsibility and duty, but Priscilla wanted more. She hoped her child would grow up surrounded by love.

Perhaps this was somewhat selfish, but only Brandenburg could unconditionally fulfill this wish, so Priscilla had planned everything early on.

Erica had met Ceylan, and while his status as an official of the Wolf Family might not be entirely prestigious, in the eyes of many ordinary people striving to survive, he was young, handsome, and powerful, and held in high regard.

Such a person, for Priscilla to say he didn’t love himself nor anyone else, was quite a strange assertion.

“Actually, I don’t care about his status, and Mokwen isn’t really the barrier between us. It was after I realized that I couldn’t fill the void in his heart that I decided to end our relationship. Otherwise, the more I depended on this relationship, the tighter I would cling to him,” Priscilla explained.

She looked out the window. The sky was getting darker. She took a small sip of her tea, hiding her sigh in the liquid.

Ceylan’s life had already been too burdensome, and Priscilla didn’t want to become another shackle for him.

Erica noticed the approaching darkness too and stood up to go close the curtains.

Just then, a maid knocked on the door.

“Madam, the ‘mage from the other side’ urgently needs to speak with you,” she whispered at the door.

“The other side” referred to the mage accompanying them, employed by the Black Gold Family but indeed a bona fide member of the Mages Association; hence, Erica had agreed for them to board together.

“What’s the matter?” Erica asked.

“They say a witch has been spotted on the docks, and the workers have been evacuated. To prevent the witch from boarding, they want to set up protections in the corridor.”

Erica frowned, leaning out to look down, but the angle prevented her from seeing the area where the cars were parked.

“Has anyone been attacked?” Priscilla sat up straight.

“That’s unclear… The mage said his orders from superiors are to protect you without needing to consider others.”

Erica met Priscilla’s gaze. They both knew Ceylan had escorted them here, and it was highly likely he was still on the dock, probably not leaving before the Azalea sailed.

“Just one witch, how can that cause such a disturbance?” Priscilla, usually mild-mannered, adopted a somewhat sharper tone when serious. “Pass on my orders for him to go down and help. With Erica and others here, no creature of darkness can harm me.”

---

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

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

---

Chapter 105

Raindrops rhythmically tapped on the window glass, but the sound was somewhat muffled by the thick curtains, inducing a drowsy feeling.

“When will this damn rain ever stop?” complained a tourist whiling away the afternoon in the dining area of a medium-sized passenger ship docked at the port. “The light is dim, the air is sticky, and it’s inconvenient to disembark.”

“I’d advise you best not to disembark,” his companion said. “The captain just sent a message that an esteemed Lady will arrive at the port in an hour, at which point the gangway will be retracted to clear the area.”

Clearing the area for nobility was routine in any kingdom, especially during auction season in White Bridge, where distinguished individuals were commonplace. Such restrictions weren’t usually bothersome, but the weather was indeed irritating.

The tourist pulled back the curtain, peering through the rain curtain at the figures moving back and forth on the dock. Due to the thick clouds, it was as dark as late evening, at only two in the afternoon. The dock lights were already on to help the dockworkers see where they were stepping—but actually, they didn’t help much. Even if all the coastal lighthouses focused their beams here, the fine raindrops continuously hitting one’s face allowed nothing else but to blink incessantly.

“In this weather, the Lady’s dress will get wet,” mused the gentlemen sitting in the warm restaurant, more concerned about which Lady and Madame from which places might board the ship in such weather, perhaps frightened by the recent witch rumors and eager to flee the city.

Unlike the city’s residents, the transient passengers at the port had mixed feelings about the news of Witch Elena. Some fully believed it, panicking and asking the crew to go ashore on their behalf to buy ample quantities of holy water and blessed artifacts, unnecessarily cluttering their small cabins, and some, more exaggerated, wouldn’t even leave their rooms, preferring to tip the staff extra to run errands for food, laundry, and boot repairs. Others considered it a deliberately spread conspiracy to create unnecessary panic to disrupt the upcoming auction, suspecting the Fox and Lion Families primarily. Honestly, with the Mages Association stationed in Fortuna City and the port controlled by the Wolf and Monkey Families, who had managed to carve out a lawless area on the Doran continent for over a hundred years, their power wasn’t to be underestimated.

However, such matters were of no concern to ordinary travelers. Surely a witch wouldn’t risk venturing into an ordinary passenger ship in the pouring rain to wreak havoc?

Despite some confidence in the ship’s protection, the gloomy weather and curtain of rain made it hard to relax. The dock foreman, wearing a felt hat, felt unprecedented pressure. The time scheduled for the arrival of the esteemed Countess was drawing near, but their preparations weren’t yet complete.

The unexpected heavy rain greatly hindered their efficiency. At noon, a worker even slipped due to the excessive wetness, suffering severe back and hip injuries, likely unable to work for some time. The worker’s union argued with him for an hour, extorting a substantial compensation amount and even managing to insert another worker to replace the injured one before calling it quits.

During the negotiation, both parties were tense, and when he turned back to supervise, the delay in progress made him even more anxious. Not to mention the goatee responsible for coordinating specifics with the Countess, who was nitpicky about the weather, the route of the carriages, and everything visible, whom he couldn’t afford to offend—that was the person the Wolf Family had assigned to greet their distinguished guest. He could demote him from dock foreman to laborer with just one word.

“Tighten that cloth! Move faster!” he nearly bellowed, instructing the laborers to carry a man-high lemon tree aboard the ship, glaring almost spitefully at the muddy footprints they left, which, thankfully, the continuous drizzle almost immediately washed away.

Besides the ambitious workload, he had other worries. Those busy with their tasks wouldn’t notice, but since the morning, he had seen the goatee arrange several people around this Dock 3. He was certain at least one of them was a mage. If one paid attention, they could catch a glimpse of what looked like the standard mage’s robe fabric peeking from beneath a waterproof cloak.

Why specifically station a mage? Could the rampant rumors about the witch in the city be true? If so, this weather was practically the perfect backdrop for a witch—no sunlight, dark, damp, with sticky slugs everywhere.

“Larry!”

The foreman’s ear twitched, and after looking around for a while, he realized the goatee was calling him.

“Clear everyone out. The convoy will arrive soon.” The goatee, pointlessly dressed in formal attire on a rainy day, with his pant legs wet halfway up, stubbornly nagged the foreman. “Unrelated personnel must not appear within the Lady’s line of sight.”

Reluctantly complying, the foreman knew this would further delay progress, but fortunately, he was quick enough that almost as soon as all the workers finally ducked into the large tent to catch their breath, a line of carriages emerged from the rain curtain. The already prepared Azalea lowered its gangway and extended a long rain canopy.

The foreman was kept far away, only able to glimpse through the gaps in the crowded people under the canopy, someone still holding an umbrella, but as for the fabled Lady, not even a swatch of her skirt was visible.

“Who has such a big entourage?” he muttered, peering out as a worker considerately handed him a cup of hot tea with ginger, a unique dockside concoction for warding off the cold on chilly days. Normally, the foreman wouldn’t drink such cheap stuff—but he had been working too long today, and no matter how many layers he wore, the drizzle seeped through, plus his attention was on the people disembarking from the carriages. When he absentmindedly took the cup, the warmth seeping through immediately won him over. He didn’t mind that it lacked the proper sweetness or licorice, gulping down two big swallows, warming his throat and stomach pleasantly.

“Pretty sharp today.” He turned to commend the worker, only to find himself alone. The tea bearer had vanished.

The foreman shrugged and took another sip.

Perhaps it was the stark contrast to the harsh weather, but the tea seemed as potent as liquor, the warmth spreading from his throat downward, feeling almost like a fire burning in his stomach…

He stood rigidly with the cup in hand, his body trembling slightly. At that moment, anyone taking a close look would think he was shivering from the cold—but if they moved in front of him, they would see his pupils fading in color.

With no mirrors around, the foreman obviously couldn’t notice the change in his face. He stopped shivering, raised the cup again, and drained the remaining tea, then looked back towards the Azalea.

It seemed that everyone from the convoy had boarded the ship. The carriages bearing the Countess’ crest had begun to turn around and leave, with only one all-black carriage remaining in place.

Whatever paint the craftsman used, the black, even when wet, didn’t reflect at all, giving the entirely black-painted carriage body just small touches of gold paint on the doors and axles, subtly hinting at its craftsmanship and cost.

Everyone in Fortuna City recognized these carriages, the exclusive coaches of the Wolf Family members.

The carriage arrived with the Earl’s entourage, but even after everyone had boarded the ship, the person in the carriage hadn’t yet disembarked to show their face.

The cup was thrown to the ground, creating a crisp sound that was quickly muffled by the rain.

The rain had begun to lessen, and work might soon commence. A group of dockworkers crowded in the large tent, hurriedly wringing their clothes dry and quietly passing around hot tea, none paying attention to the activity outside. The foreman pressed his felt hat more firmly onto his head and, with slightly slippery steps, approached the man with the goatee.

“Sir, should we have Fred and the others board now?” The slender man with the goatee—Pambrick—held a black umbrella with one hand and asked respectfully.

He was four or five steps away from the carriage, but despite the closed doors and windows, the occupant inside heard his query. The window was tapped twice, and Pambrick had to listen carefully to catch any sounds over the rain.

Two taps meant “yes”.

The Wolf Family had risen to prominence over a century ago, and although they never gained entrance to the temples or any royal palaces, the wealth and hidden status they had accumulated early on had pushed them generation after generation towards the mannerisms of traditional nobility. These intricate rules, though certainly dignified and prideful, represented nothing but trouble and difficulty for the servants.

If faced with a strict superior, the difficulty doubled, such as the one currently sitting inside the carriage, “Louis”.

Unlike the Lion Family, who rose to power purely based on capability, the Wolf Family, aside from the alpha wolf, the number of seats of power had been fixed at five from the first generation. To occupy one required personal ability, familial support, and achievements, and it wasn’t something that could be accomplished just by being born into the right family.

Now, this Louis occupied one of those seats, and though young by most standards, it was exactly why he was particularly feared within the clan.

A young alpha wolf’s claws were always sharper.

After receiving a response, Pambrick, though unseen by anyone, respectfully backed away before instructing the crew to inform the mage who had been on standby to follow him aboard the ship. Even though the Countess’ side surely had similar security measures, this was the Wolf Family’s gesture of sincerity, not to be taken lightly.

Pambrick shook his head. He had heard about the civil war within the Mokwen Kingdom. The Countess’ decision to distance herself from the warfare was wise. Under normal circumstances, White Bridge wouldn’t be considered a good refuge, but with connections to the Black Gold Family, the situation was entirely different.

Though still embroiled in war, the Southern Lord had substantial connections, managing to engage both the Wolf and Monkey Families for escort. This level of treatment was such that it could accommodate a minor king, as some services money couldn’t buy.

He hoped this wealthy Lady, affluent enough to engage two major families for escort, would perform well upon reaching White Bridge and spend generously.

Louis had no plans to accompany the Countess. He looked through the carriage window as the gangway was retracted and then pondered for a moment, his gaze lowering.

Priscilla’s condition wasn’t good.

Although a doctor accompanied her to provide care throughout the journey, pregnancy was still somewhat strenuous for her, adding psychological stress—

Thinking of the report sent to his study about Lestrop, Louis frowned slightly in disgust.

Lestrop’s obsession with the Holy Grail wasn’t surprising. Years ago, when he began investigating who had leaked this internal legend, his search led to the Mokwen Royal Family. If not for that, he wouldn’t have met Priscilla.

Although now physically frail, Priscilla’s mental state was much better than before—a normal woman, upon discovering her respectable husband wasn’t only a madman but had also harmed many people due to his madness, would have become mad herself out of fear and regret. She was strong to have not done so.

Their entanglement began when Louis, appearing under the name Ceylan, was the only person who could understand the roots of her fear and anger, and Ceylan believed she was the only person completely unrelated to his past and future—he had once thought so.

However, Priscilla had told him she was pregnant.

Louis leaned back against the cushioned seat, staring at his fingers, lost in thought.

Regarding the child, he wouldn’t oppose any decision Priscilla made. Lestrop was the worst nightmare a woman could encounter, and he neither wanted nor should—

A faint noise broke his reverie. He sat up straight, turning his head to the side. Someone was approaching the carriage, but it wasn’t Pambrick.

The person was of medium height, slightly plump, and wearing an ear-flapped felt hat. His movements and steps were light in the drizzle, and his face and expression were obscured.

---

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

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

---

Chapter 104

Witches could change their own appearance and that of others at will and could possess others through their pupils, using dark magic, to monitor and pry into others’ lives.

The mentally unstable aren’t trustworthy.

Liars aren’t trustworthy.

The ruthless aren’t trustworthy.

If she invades the marketplace, then no one can be trusted.

“Most women have reduced their outings, and those who must go out wear red aprons or headscarves, trying to prove that they aren’t witches or possessed by one.” Eugene shared his latest observations from the city. “It’s said that witches neither cry nor bleed, as God has deprived them of their human rights; hence, they cannot wear red.”

“That’s just a common rumor,” the rabbit-headed shopkeeper said softly.

He didn’t have many witch friends, but those who dabbled in black magic in the gray areas had known some, and such placebo tales concocted by laypeople could spread across the continent. It also suited the witches, who were happy to blur the lines of perception, making it easier for them to escape.

Eugene stroked his chin, now unaccustomed to its smooth touch after a period of neglect during their escape. “Actually, regardless of gender, most commoners now try to be home before sunset… Meanwhile, the number of bounty hunters and mercenaries has increased. Almost every tavern is buzzing with talks of Witch Elena because, with so many competitors, disputes arising from the circulation of false news are heard everywhere. If the witch isn’t caught soon, the security forces might step in to stabilize the situation by deporting some of the bounty hunters.”

“In other words, this witch-hunting movement wasn’t instigated by city hall,” the rabbit-headed shopkeeper mused. “Something must have happened in the city to suddenly make Elena an easy target.”

To be honest, Elena had always been a nonconformist, even during her schooling, and had her own way of thinking. She was also very guarded and aggressive, making it difficult for others to understand her thoughts and actions.

As she delved deeper into her powers as a witch, she became even more paranoid, often in a state of communication breakdown. It was fine as long as she remained a recluse, but any contact with people was bound to cause trouble.

“About that, I spent some money to get some information from a local,” Eugene said. “Witches usually don’t commit evil acts themselves. They use animals or magic to harm people. But somehow, a few nights ago, she openly attacked someone on Clove Street and then fled.”

Clove Street.

The familiar name made the rabbit-headed shopkeeper’s eyelids twitch, but he remained silent.

“So it was that person’s doing?” Shiloh pondered. “To face a witch and not be defeated, even managing to drive her away, that person can’t be ordinary. Either they have a powerful background, money, or both. The witch’s failed attempt backfired, leading to the current situation.”

Eugene shook his head. “Not exactly right.”

The Duke, who had been silent, fiddled with the emerald on the top of his cane and suddenly spoke up. “That person spread the news.”

Eugene, who had been about to play coy, suddenly wore a face of “How did you know?”

The hunting campaign against the witch was indeed not initiated by the attacked person, but he was the source of the turmoil due to “Witch Elena’s appearance in Fortuna City”.

Elena’s appearance—public panic—disturbed the black market and even shut down, affecting the underground traders of Fortuna City, who then issued a high bounty.

“…If of high status, then even if one tries to hide the news, it will eventually be uncovered. It’s better to release the news directly, create panic, and divert conflicts to another group.” The Duke scoffed. “Who is that person?”

Eugene thought for a moment. “A young cadre from the Wolf Family—quite influential—named Louis.”

At this revelation, everyone except Shivers subtly glanced at the rabbit-headed shopkeeper, with the Duke and the youngest, Shiloh, notably pausing their gaze on his long ears for several seconds.

Though no one spoke, Charlie could almost hear everyone’s thoughts, such as:

Oh~~~

So that’s how it is~~~

A big rabbit jumps out of the wolf’s den~~~

Maybe he left home because he doesn’t eat meat but only grass~~~

No matter.

He wasn’t familiar enough with them to break character, and indeed, they weren’t close at this point.

The rabbit-headed shopkeeper kept his composure. “If so, the main force behind the witch hunt should not be the Wolf Family, but the Monkey.”

According to Eugene, the siege on Elena happened after the disruption of underground trading, so it was most likely the Monkey Family, who transport and sell everything.

“Although the effort is massive, I believe most people wouldn’t dare confront a witch directly. Although Fortuna City is a hub, the influx of outsiders these past few days is too large, and coupled with rumors, the city is no longer safe,” Shivers also said. “Erica sent word that Miss Priscilla has decided to board a ship before sunset today.”

The Duke, sitting at the end of the long table, looked up at Shivers with a somewhat cold expression.

“And then?”

Although phrased diplomatically, Priscilla’s refusal to let him meet with “Ceylon”, saying she didn’t want to complicate things, didn’t sit well with Dwight.

However, a pregnant woman’s mood took precedence, and ultimately, the Duke didn’t resort to having someone eavesdrop under his sister’s window. Since they had successfully made contact, it meant that someone from White Bridge would also escort Priscilla. At least from this, he could learn Ceylon’s family name or real name.

“There will be two small warships and a three-tier passenger ship accompanying her. The passenger ship is the ‘Azalea,’ stopping from Nabibo Bay, belonging to the Wolf Family, while the two cannon-equipped warships are from the Monkey fleet, as their route has pirates, so they are heavily armed,” Shivers recalled Erica’s words. “Miss Priscilla requisitioned these ships in the name of Earl Lestrop. The Azalea had already disembarked its passengers yesterday, specifically to accompany her.”

The Duke remained silent with a stern face.

It seemed that the relationship between Wolf and Monkey was indeed close, able to collaborate on such matters, making it still unclear whether the person who hooked up with Priscilla was a Wolf or a Monkey.

He didn’t like either.

“I was thinking, why would Elena appear in Fortuna City?” Just as the Duke pondered whether to stake out at the docks today, the rabbit-headed shopkeeper suddenly asked.

Their encounters with the witch had a ninety-five percent chance of being coincidental. If not for Kurt, he might never have taken this road back. Elena’s base was south of Mokwen, just as Columbus remembered. Witches usually lived reclusively and didn’t often contact people. For Elena to come to this hub just as the auction was about to start was illogical.

“My counter-tracking methods are still effective. She didn’t come following my trail.” Although the last unexpected encounter gave her a slight clue, the conflict shifted to Louis.

This coincidence wasn’t amusing. His own escape to the ship was followed by Louis strolling the streets here. Elena’s mental state was very unstable, and it was inevitable that she would offend Louis right away, and strange if they didn’t end up fighting.

Although they hadn’t seen each other for many years, Charlie still had a clear understanding of Louis’s character—that kid held grudges from a young age and liked to set covert traps for revenge. Using the Monkey Family’s power to deal with Elena sounded like something he would do.

Moreover, Fortuna City barely fell within White Bridge’s sphere of influence. In such a place, unless Elena had an accomplice, she likely wouldn’t stand a chance against Louis. If she persisted in believing that Louis was Charlie and continued her relentless pursuit, she might very well lose her life here.

The rabbit-headed shopkeeper felt that the situation had progressed beyond being described as “out of control”. Various accidents and coincidences had punctured the protective shield he had painstakingly constructed in the first half of his life, unable to plug all the leaks.

He wasn’t a saint to pity seeing Elena in danger, not to mention their old school camaraderie had been ground down during those tumultuous entanglements, plus Columbus and others hurt by the witch over the years. He didn’t really want to know, nor was he interested in watching, how Elena’s fate unfolded, especially since he was barely managing himself.

If Elena died, the curse on him would be lifted as well… If he were to revert to his original form in Fortuna City or even White Bridge, not to mention being discovered by those people, even if Louis saw him, he would chase him with a forty-meter long sword.

Charlie thought gloomily that it would be best to avoid such a dreadful outcome.

“Maybe the witch wants to attend the auction?” Eugene whimsically suggested. “Even black magic needs tools and materials, right? Spell books, human bones, and such—White Bridge is the kind of place that does business with anyone, fairy or mermaid, as long as they can pay.”

“If she can hide her identity well,” Shivers said realistically. “It’s not impossible what you’re saying, but it’s highly unlikely. In that place, it’s much more likely for a witch to be auctioned than to be a buyer. Do you think a witch, who everyone wants to hunt, hasn’t done enough evil deeds or made enough enemies? Just look at the bounty on her head… There are plenty willing to pay for her life.”

“I tend to think she came here for a meeting.” Charlie stretched his back, which was sore from sitting too long, and slowly said, “Witches aren’t completely isolated from the world. Consider how many people secretly collect or use items made by witches, and the royal family of Mokwen still won’t give up on their insane experiments. They also trade with people.”

“If it’s a trade of items, remote exchange or using puppets could suffice, but her appearance here indicates someone wants to hire her.” Dwight also realized this point. “Hiring a witch in this place is likely the doing of a Black Gold Family.”

Because of White Bridge’s influence, even though Fortuna City was part of the kingdom and had its own city hall and security forces, the economic and military power was mostly in the hands of the Black Gold Family, as seen from the high-profile actions of the Wolves and Monkeys here.

Fortuna City was practically the garden of White Bridge. Under their watchful eyes and claws, no nobility would stir up trouble—at least not here.

“But both Wolf and Monkey were involved in the witch’s siege,” Shiloh said. “Isn’t that a contradiction?”

Charlie opened his mouth but said nothing.

Dwight glanced at him.

“Louis alone doesn’t represent the Wolf Family,” he said. “Even if they share the same surname, internal strife is possible, especially in ancient families with complex dynamics. But we don’t need to analyze too much. As long as Elena dies, whatever deals she has behind her no longer need concern us…”

If not for the many people present, Charlie would have let his ears perk up and shouted at the Duke that Elena must not die now!

If she died, the rabbit head would be gone, and unless he welded another mask to his face, he couldn’t think of any way to leave Doran with all his limbs intact and continue his business back in Maplewood.

Perhaps although his ears didn’t perk up, his bristling was somewhat noticeable, as Dwight subtly paused for a few seconds before continuing, “Unless her purpose here is also the ‘Holy Grail’. If that’s the case, those who traded with her won’t easily watch her be killed. Once Priscilla is safely on board… we can still stir the waters some more.”

Muddy waters make it easier to fish*.

*Referring to the idiom, fishing in troubled waters, which describes a situation where one takes advantage of a difficult situation or someone else’s problems.

---

The author has something to say:

Dwight: I had a nightmare last night.

Charlie: Oh? What about?

Dwight: Dreamed you were a monster, frighteningly ugly.

Charlie: ???

Dwight: Based on your bone structure and skin condition, you shouldn’t be ugly, but there’s always a chance, right? Are you ugly or not?

Charlie: I’ve told you I’m handsome and dashing. It’s just the coat that’s thick. Don’t overthink it.

Dwight: Haha, can’t sleep now.

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Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

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Chapter 103

Witch sightings had emerged in Fortuna City.

After three victims appeared in succession, the city hall could no longer cover it up. Suspicion and anger spread like a plague at an astonishing speed, stirring discussions in every street and alley.

The security force increased patrols and vigilance. To ordinary citizens, witches, though terrifying, seemed more like a myth, only flying on brooms over the wilderness at midnight or secretly brewing potions in marshes and dense forests, surrounded by goblins and undead.

It was rare for anyone to mention witches appearing in crowded markets, and even when they did show themselves in Fortuna City, the victims were mostly people who were alone at night. The working people, who rose at sunrise and rested at sunset, discussed it heatedly but didn’t actually panic much. Fortuna City had a Mage Association, and the sheriffs were diligent, so only a few were affected by this incident.

The White Bridge auction always marked the peak of underground trade in Fortuna City. As various items that couldn’t be traded openly were smuggled to White Bridge, some lower-quality or smaller-scale goods would trickle into the local market. Most people without sufficient funds made do with these underground deals, hoping for good luck and a big find.

These transactions, likely coming from illegal channels and thus untaxed, required utmost discretion, including obscure locations and timing mostly after midnight. Considering that black magic creations made up a significant portion of these goods, no one could guarantee that a witch wouldn’t take an interest in their merchandise and suddenly appear at the market, or confront them on their way home, turning them into the next day’s newspaper headline.

These concerns quieted the usually bustling night in Fortuna City, even reducing the number of vagrants and drunks wandering around the lower blocks, somewhat easing the pressure on the security team.

However, a unilateral impact always triggered a reaction. Within two days of the first victim’s case, the bounty for Witch Elena increased significantly in the black market. Even the merchant ships at the docks saw some tough-looking individuals come aboard, though they seemed less like professional mercenaries and more like bounty hunters temporarily bound together by a high reward.

“No matter how you put it, hunting a witch alone isn’t feasible.” Shiloh leaned on the ship’s rail, watching another ship slowly enter the port. “Elena has been famous for a long time. Even with many people, there should be plenty to go around after splitting the bounty.”

The rabbit-headed shopkeeper watched with him. “The news spread faster than I expected.”

This was somewhat illogical. Because of her bad reputation, showing herself carelessly could easily trigger witch hunts. No witch, no matter how powerful, could withstand a carpet search and prolonged battles. Elena, although paranoid, wasn’t stupid—Charlie didn’t think so. Including the encounter at dawn with the cosmetician possessed by puppet magic, Elena hadn’t appeared herself. She was only controlling the magic from a distance.

The sheriff hadn’t recognized that it was Elena’s magic. Something must have happened in the city in these few days since then, drawing the attention of those in power to Elena’s presence and deciding to expel or eliminate her.

The rabbit-headed shopkeeper, who had stayed on the ship these days, didn’t know what had happened, but the Duke did.

Aside from the directionally challenged Shiloh, even Amber had been allowed to wander near the port. This indicated that, although he hadn’t disembarked, the Duke’s attention hadn’t strayed from inside Fortuna City.

Part of the reason was that Priscilla was in the city, and another part…

Charlie was reluctant to admit it.

He and Dwight had entered into a strange and awkward situation again, unlike the previous cold war. On the surface, nothing seemed different from before, but privately, they began avoiding each other’s moves.

For example, Charlie would discuss matters related to Louis with some knights, bypassing Dwight—though there was no difference. Ultimately, Hasting or Hall would report every word he said to the Duke.

And although he knew that during the brief docking period, Dwight would surely make contact with Priscilla in the city and monitor the situation (especially after the direct encounter with witch magic), and keep a grip on the situation, he didn’t breathe a word to Charlie.

Though Dwight surely knew Charlie could guess what he was doing.

Dwight had seen through his weak spots.

Realizing this made Charlie very uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to this.

Humans were a contradictory species, finding long-term loneliness difficult but being worn down by time to depend on solitude.

In this regard, he and Amber were no different, though Amber was a bit stronger.

The rabbit-headed shopkeeper turned his head just as Amber moved to a new spot, chasing the last rays of the sunset, learning to read. The child took everything seriously, treating the Duke’s casual command to ‘take care of Emerald’ as a mission, studying all the books about the Pluto Owl that he could find, and practicing reading and writing whenever he had a moment.

Seeing the child so dedicated, the rabbit-headed shopkeeper suddenly felt melancholic: Am I getting old?

He could hardly remember the last time he was this motivated… He subconsciously reached for his pipe, touched the slightly cold surface, and then calmed down: It’s not about age. He seemed never to have been this driven about serious matters before.

So why did he feel old?

He looked down at his pipe in contemplation.

Perhaps… because he realized there was someone nearly ten years his junior standing in front of him, ready to protect him.

That person was only eighteen, disliked excessive contact with others, was impatient with half-hearted probes, young enough not to realize that his words and actions were typically used for ambiguous flirting in the adult world, yet mature enough to know when to stop.

He no longer tried to inquire about his background or origins, not knowing when the Duke, who liked to unravel mysteries, reduced his questions about him to just one.

What are you afraid of?

Charlie never gave him an answer.

So the Duke reached out, not to hold him but to cover his ears and eyes.

If you’re afraid, don’t listen.

If you’re afraid, don’t look.

It’s okay not to think.

Realizing he was being treated like a frightened child, embarrassed the rabbit-headed shopkeeper, who had always prided himself on having thick skin. He was more accustomed to being the protector than the protected. This reversal of roles was so awkward that he hardly dared to ponder it deeply, fearing he might impulsively jump off the ship and dive into the water, never to surface again…

Shiloh jumped on the spot.

Charlie, absorbed in his own world, was startled by Shiloh’s sudden leap. His reflexes were faster than his thoughts, and he grabbed Shiloh, who was moving so vigorously that he nearly made them both jump. Even then, Shiloh wouldn’t settle down, wriggling in Charlie’s grasp like an overly excited puppy.

“What’s the matter?” The rabbit-headed shopkeeper pulled him back. “Did you see a bone?”

Shiloh’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Captain!”

Following his gaze, Charlie indeed saw that the recently docked ship was disembarking passengers. There were two men carrying luggage still in line—they were wrapped in turbans and had grown beards, making them hard to recognize from this distance. Heaven knows how Shiloh spotted them.

Even Hasting came out, speaking quietly with two mercenaries on deck, probably arranging to let Shivers and Eugene board the ship later.

The rabbit-headed shopkeeper was amazed. Could these knights smell their captain from so far away? Even Hasting, from inside the cabin, managed to meet them precisely?

The humanoid of bones, Shivers, didn’t realize he was already being watched. He and Eugene, traveling light, had rushed to make it to Fortuna City within the scheduled time. Since fleeing the manor, they hadn’t had a moment’s peace, and even someone as robust as Shivers was feeling the strain, though Eugene seemed to adapt well to the hustle.

The rabbit-headed shopkeeper’s color-changing potion had a time limit. Although it hadn’t been washed off, Shivers’s hair color was gradually returning to normal. To blend in, both wore turbans and robes in the Lababata style and had grown beards, making them less noticeable in the second-class cabin.

There were others more conspicuous than them on this ship—a somber-looking man who clearly had blood on his hands, surrounded by a few simple-minded but physically imposing henchmen, their voices loud. To avoid complications, people generally steered clear of them.

If it hadn’t been for the mention of Witch Elena, Shivers and Eugene had planned to keep their distance from them too.

But one of the entourage was both loose-lipped and vain, constantly blabbing loudly about how they planned to hunt the witch, garnering fearful and admiring looks from others.

Thanks to him, nearly everyone on the ship knew about Witch Elena’s sightings in the city, and it seemed she had crossed paths with someone. The bounty reached an enticingly high figure, drawing the attention of nearby hunters, including this group.

Regardless of the truth of the witch’s affairs, these belligerent folks flooding into Fortuna City would surely cause chaos for a while, and some, alarmed by the rumors, even bought tickets directly to the next city without disembarking.

Others might not know, but Shivers and Eugene were well aware that the feud between Charlie and Elena was significant. Regardless of the veracity of the memoirs describing him as “handsome, dashing, and elegant, who Elena pursued and hated when her love was unrequited,” the rabbit head that the shopkeeper was still wearing was quite real.

If the witch was indeed in the city, the chances of her running into the rabbit-headed shopkeeper were high. And with Miss Priscilla also in town, it was truly headache-inducing.

The noisy group of bounty hunters disembarked the ship before them. Eugene gave Shivers a look and hurried forward, slipping through the crowd like a fish into a stream, quickly vanishing into the street.

The bounty hunters weren’t their target. Eugene intended to use them to dig into the reasons behind the bounty, as both he and Shivers felt the amount was unusually high this time.

However, this time, Eugene would have to act alone. The Duke was here, and Shivers had to return to his position quickly.

He avoided the larger streams of people, walking along the dock, squinting as he tried to identify the many different styles of ships and their markings painted on the hulls. Before he spotted the target ship, he caught sight of a lively red-haired figure jumping and waving from a distance, unmistakable in the evening glow.

Who else but Shiloh?

When Shiloh saw Shivers had noticed him, he grabbed the curious Amber coming closer and pointed out. “See? That’s our boss. I’m under his command, and soon you will be too.”

Amber only saw a man in a drab turban, looking back at Hasting with some confusion.

Since Hasting had shot an arrow last time, Amber had developed a great admiration for him, not to say Shiloh wasn’t strong—Shiloh had easily overpowered him at their first meeting—but in the young boy’s mind, a real man was like Hasting, tough and laconic.

He had always thought that aside from that ‘Lord’, Hasting was the boss.

Noticing Amber’s gaze, Hasting, knowing what the boy might be thinking, allowed a rare smile to appear.

Shiloh was immediately taken aback. “Hasting, you’re actually smiling?”

The young knight immediately stopped smiling, saying seriously, “Because my boss is back.”

The rabbit-headed shopkeeper laughed heartily. “We’re all very happy—Hasting, did you tell him?”

Hasting glanced back at the cabin and nodded.

“I’ve been waiting,” he said softly.

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The author has something to say:

Although I have never been good at writing romance, I will always love domineering CEOs.

Regarding Elena and Rabbit Head:

Elena once cursed Charlie to become a rabbit, but it wasn’t a very complex curse, and Charlie has the ability to break it.

She knew Charlie was a flirt, but she didn’t expect him to live with a rabbit head for several years, so she subconsciously mistook Louis for Charlie.

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