Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

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Chapter 12

“The previous heir? I thought witches never died,” Eugene muttered.

“There is no eternal life in this world except for God. Both angels and demons have their times of demise. It’s just that their lifespans are so exceedingly long, they nearly amount to eternity. Witches aren’t demons; they might extend their lifespans through magic, but they will still age and weaken and cannot forever sustain the consumption of their magical power,” Shivers said. “Our clergy once told me that magic isn’t omnipotent. When magical power is abundant, many methods can be used to maintain a youthful appearance, but once the power is exhausted and can no longer be maintained, the appearance will rapidly revert to its natural age—most end up looking terribly old, wrinkled, and dried up, not unlike a dead tree trunk.”

Everyone fell silent. No one spoke for a while. They just watch the fire in silence. Occasionally, a spark would jump out and quickly extinguish.

Perhaps because he had spoken of his youth, that night Charlie dreamt of the past.

In his dream, his face wasn’t covered by this appearance, nor did he have a rabbit’s all-encompassing keen vision and soft, long ears.

He lay on the grass beside a fountain, napping with a thick book as a pillow, a breeze blowing on his face, making him want to sneeze.

As he was half-asleep, he felt someone sit down next to him, gently removing some blades of grass from his face.

Just as he was about to open his eyes, he felt the person’s fingers trace down his cheek, the cool fingertips causing his skin to shiver slightly. The cool fingertips slid across his neck, following a strange, unnatural trajectory—

It was his carotid artery!

Charlie suddenly opened his eyes, almost springing up on the spot. The blanket slid off him due to his movement.

The next second, he realized he was dreaming and took a deep breath, pushing the heavy breaths back into his chest.

The fire was still burning. Charlie glanced at the flames, then turned to see the young Duke sitting on his own bench, staring intently at him.

Charlie was so startled he nearly jumped again.

Take a deep breath, he reminded himself. After taking a moment to collect himself, he met Dwight’s gaze.

Perhaps it was the atmosphere of the late night or the light from the fire, but the Duke’s expression wasn’t his usual arrogance but rather intensely focused, even somewhat childishly curious.

Even the most patient person disliked being stared at in the middle of the night. Not wanting to disturb the others who were asleep, the rabbit-headed shopkeeper mouthed irritably at him.

“What?” he asked.

Dwight nodded in a direction.

Following his gaze, Charlie saw that the bench where the girl in the red cloak had been lying now only held a sleeping little tin soldier. He jerked awake, pulled the blanket aside, and tiptoed over to look.

The bench was empty, and the girl’s whereabouts were unknown. The blanket on the bench was still warm, indicating the person lying there hadn’t left long ago.

Even the stable doors in the courtyard were open. When Charlie and Dwight entered, Araceae and Midnight were also awake, watching them warily.

“The white horse is gone,” Charlie said, setting a lantern on the feed trough and carefully examining the footprints on the ground.

“Even if being thrown off a horse made her a fool, she wouldn’t leave on foot unless she grew up with wolves,” Dwight said with his usual sarcasm. “Moreover, she’s not foolish. I’m sure she thought everyone was asleep when she sneaked away.”

Charlie then turned to look at him. “You knew when she left? You weren’t asleep?”

Dwight suppressed the urge to shrug, leaning against a pillar in the stable, his beautiful eyes calmly meeting his. “I have never slept on a bench in my life, thank you.”

The shopkeeper looked at him morosely. “Your Lordship, assuming I’m not wrong, you’re planning to go find Miss Priscilla.”

Dwight nodded gracefully.

“Miss Priscilla has married into the southern continent, far from Lemena.”

“Mm.”

“This journey will be long. Do you plan to stay awake the entire way?”

“I certainly will sleep, but I must sleep in a bed,” Dwight arrogantly declared, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “That’s a baseline.”

Charlie felt his rabbit head ache. “You’re definitely going to fall off your horse.”

Dwight stated boldly, “Staying up one night is nothing to me—besides, if that woman had decided to stab us in the heart earlier, you’d be thanking me for not sleeping.”

The shopkeeper gave him a stifled look.

According to their itinerary, the distance to Hilly City, the next stop after Popomia, wasn’t something that could be endured ‘just one night’.

The Duke might know the map of Lemena like the back of his hand in his castle’s study, but once he actually started on the road, he would find that without making compromises to the rough conditions, the bad roads and weather could totally sap all his willpower on the way.

However, seeing the other’s expression, the shopkeeper decided it was wise to keep his mouth shut about this.

The night wind blew in from the roof of the stable, making him shrink his neck and reach to untie his donkey.

Dwight put a hand out, pressing it neither too lightly nor too heavily. “What are you doing?”

“Going after her,” Charlie said without hesitation. “It’s not safe to leave the village at night. The wolf pack is likely nearby.”

Dwight didn’t pull his hand away. “I have something to ask you.”

“Wait till dawn, then—”

“No,” the Duke unyieldingly said, unfamiliar with compromise. “Are you going to find the witch Elena?”

Charlie paused, finally focusing all his attention on the Duke.

He didn’t answer, but Dwight saw the answer in his eyes.

“As you said, she cursed you and still doesn’t intend to reconcile. Why go? I thought you’d prefer to stay far from her in Maplewood.”

The shopkeeper hesitated. He originally assumed the other didn’t really need his answer and was only concerned only with his own interests, typical of nobility.

“Because of that little tin soldier, Columbus?” Dwight continued.

Charlie was genuinely surprised. He knew the Duke was very perceptive but didn’t realize his thoughts were so meticulous, capable of quickly deducing the most likely close-to-truth answer under the scarce conditions.

“The curse on Columbus is a bit more complicated.” The shopkeeper took a deep breath. “He hasn’t gained immortality because of this body. Apart from the wear on his soul, his movements will gradually be limited with age until he becomes a true tin soldier. The last time we went to the mines, his movements were already less agile, and this isn’t something that can be solved by oiling the joints.”

If possible, Charlie didn’t want to face Elena, but he was even less willing to let Columbus walk towards death as a tin soldier.

“If possible, I hope to negotiate with Elena to lift Columbus’s curse. If that fails, at least to send Columbus back to his hometown, to the warm countryside farms in the east of Doran.”

“That would be nice,” Dwight slowly said. “I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this, but I happen to also be going to the Doran continent.”

Charlie gave him a disingenuous smile.

The Duke didn’t continue speaking, instead silently watching him, the two remaining at an impasse for a moment.

The shopkeeper already found dealing with nobility troublesome enough, but this young Duke was ten times more troublesome than ordinary nobility.

“Since that’s the case, let’s travel together.” The shopkeeper surrendered after five minutes.

The Duke was finally satisfied, courteously adding, “I thought so too. I’m glad we could reach such a pleasant agreement so quickly.”

“Let’s go then,” Charlie continued, untying the reins. “There’s no moon tonight. The horse won’t go fast. If we hurry now, we can still catch up…”

Although delayed by ten minutes, the night road in the countryside was difficult to navigate, and this bit of time shouldn’t cause much delay.

“No, Mr. Charlie, I suggest we all go back to sleep,” Dwight said as if it were obvious. “Why should we chase after a stranger in the middle of the night?”

“Because it’s not safe,” Charlie said patiently. “Although I don’t know her intentions, we shouldn’t just watch a young person gamble with their life.”

Dwight looked at him oddly, though he didn’t speak. Charlie swore he saw a sentence in the other’s beautiful eyes: So?

“I think she has ulterior motives,” Dwight said. “So there’s no need to bother with her.”

“Have you ever considered that she might just be scared and not necessarily have ulterior motives—”

“She stole from us.” Dwight cut him off decisively.

Charlie was stunned.

“She secretly took Elena’s magic pot,” Dwight smirked. “A simple lost girl wouldn’t rummage through someone else’s luggage. Eugene is truly a complete fool.”

---

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

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

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Chapter 11

Transformation magic wasn’t impossible to achieve, but its principles were very complex. Not only could terrifying accidents occur during the process, but it also involved evil motives and ethical issues, making it taboo in every continent and country. A rule-abiding mage might never come across such information in their entire life.

Charlie casually added a log to the fire. The flames reflected in his large, round eyes, showing no discernible emotion.

“It doesn’t necessarily require proper magic. A curse can also accomplish it,” he said softly.

Shivers fell silent.

Mages capable of such advanced magic were very rare, but the scope became much broader if it involved a curse.

Everyone knew that there was a significant difference between magic and curses—regardless of the type of magic, it all originated from the mage’s own magical power, hence the system of classifying mages based on talent and the amount of magical power.

However, the threshold for curses was somewhat lower. Although they also required a certain amount of magical power, curses often involved various evil forces, and the results depended on whose power was being utilized—having a demon from the abyss or a lost spirit perform the same curse could lead to vastly different outcomes.

“When I met Columbus, he had already been in this form for thirty years. He was very young when it happened, and he has forgotten many details since then. I hope you won’t ask him directly. Even though he’s generally cheerful, he’s always lacked a sense of security.”

Everyone was surprised.

“I thought he was a child?” Shivers said hesitantly.

Perhaps it was his cute and amusing appearance that first gave off an impression of childlike innocence, plus his personality was exceptionally lively—honestly, a bit too lively, like an energetic little locomotive.

“The last day he lived as a human was on his fifteenth birthday,” the rabbit-headed shopkeeper said, staring into the jumping flames. “Strictly speaking, he was still a child, just like other kids his age, always running around getting into trouble, never full, lying in bed each night looking forward to what breakfast would be the next day.”

Then, this vivid and full life abruptly ended, and Columbus’ soul was placed into this colorful, cold tin soldier shell, with time forever stopped on that hot summer afternoon many years ago.

“What exactly happened?” Eugene couldn’t help asking.

“That’s something you might have to ask your old friend,” the shopkeeper said with a wry smile.

Eugene looked puzzled.

“The witch, Elena,” Dwight said softly.

“A tin soldier’s body doesn’t feel pain or age, but the wear on Columbus’ soul is more apparent with each passing year, and his memories are gradually fading,” Charlie said. “He doesn’t remember much about the past, including the reason he became a tin soldier.”

The Duke looked at him. “How did you meet him?”

Charlie’s long ears twitched. The other’s keen, almost inhumane way of thinking was what he was least adept at handling.

He thought for a moment and said slowly, “My meeting with Columbus was purely accidental. If you’re asking how I know Columbus, you might as well ask…”

Charlie paused, casting a mischievous glance at the fully attentive Eugene. “How I know Elena.”

Eugene, who had been drinking onion soup, spilled it all over the front of his shirt. Shivers, shocked, instinctively placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.

The rabbit-headed shopkeeper raised his hands innocently. “Calm down. I never said Elena and I were friends.”

Dwight sized him up, his tone eerie and eager, as if about to explore a new toy. “I think I’m starting to understand what’s going on with your head.”

Charlie coughed uncomfortably.

“At that time, I was also fifteen, handsome, dashing, and elegant,” the shopkeeper reminisced with emotion. “Attractive and intelligent. I entered Monterey Academy at eleven—don’t make that face. It’s a very, very famous school on the Doran continent. Many historical figures came from there.”

“I think what everyone’s questioning is the ‘attractive and intelligent’ part,” Dwight drawled.

Charlie ignored him and continued, “Because I was so outstanding, every teacher wanted to personally instruct me, so I was the only student that year who chose all the courses—a truly remarkable record that I think has not been broken to this day… The point is, this of course included magic classes.”

While there weren’t many qualified mages on the market, the threshold for studying magic was actually lower than most people think.

Magic wasn’t just the well-known skills of transformation, flying, or summoning various weather effects, which were visually stunning. It also included many minor branches like hypnosis, concocting magic potions, prophecy—including magical theory as a part of the magic curriculum.

In reality, humans were born with a basic aptitude for magic, but for most, this talent was so slight that it was almost negligible, and they never had the opportunity to systematically explore and learn it. That was the real difference between mages and ordinary people.

Regardless, magic sounded very cool—who didn’t want to command the elements or fly?

So when various schools first offered magic courses, nearly 100% of students enrolled.

However, after generations of testing, most students eventually realized that some could command crows without even opening a textbook, while others could study magic textbooks for years and only manage to make a feather quill struggle to turn over on a desk. People gradually accepted the fact that talent couldn’t be forced and made rational career choices.

But young Charlie wasn’t driven by a desire to become a powerful mage who could summon storms. He was simply curious about all subjects. To him, even if he couldn’t make his mark in this area, studying magical theory and history was quite interesting.

“Elena and I are different. She was very talented and had clear goals early on. In fact, she was one of the students our teachers had great hopes for,” Charlie said. “She enrolled when I was fifteen and was quickly attracted by my charming demeanor, expressing her affection for me fervently, even after I graduated. Because I consistently rejected her, she turned her love into hatred and turned me into a rabbit-headed being.”

He concluded briskly, “That’s the history between me and the witch Elena.”

Everyone: “……”

“Forgive my bluntness, but that curse seems quite extraordinary.” Shivers hesitated. “If she was going to curse you, why not turn you into a complete rabbit?”

He logically skipped over the part about unrequited love, as Charlie seemed very eager to continue elaborating on his romantic adventures.

“Because she liked me too much,” Charlie stated decisively. “Thus, at the last moment of cursing me, she was still pleading with me, saying if I would be with her, she would lift the curse. Such a vicious spell requires firm belief and strong willpower to be fully successful, but unfortunately, she couldn’t help but waver when she saw my handsome face, so the curse was only half-completed.”

The group fell silent again.

Although everyone was eager to know more about the reasons and details, they tacitly chose not to give him the stage anymore.

At this point, however, the rabbit-headed man was visibly excited.

“Actually, Elena hasn’t completely forgotten about me to this day. Whenever I appear within her sight, she chases me relentlessly. This kind of life is really too burdensome, which is why I left Doran to escape from her.”

“I heard Elena is a seductive beauty who was once a mistress to a king.” Dwight pondered. “Why did you always refuse her?”

Charlie replied righteously, “The first time she confessed to me, she was only twelve years old, not even developed yet. As for later…”

He suddenly paused.

What happened later?

Honestly, Charlie realized at that moment that his memory of the past was also a bit vague.

Why had he never felt any affection for Elena from the beginning to the end? He barely remembered Elena before she became a witch, when she was still properly dressed in a school uniform, holding textbooks, because by the time they became enemies, Elena’s radical actions had left a much deeper impression on him than her face.

“Would you fall in love with a woman who could turn you into a rabbit at any time?” he retorted. “Elena is a genius and willing to put in the effort, but she was tempted in her pursuit of excellence and strayed from the right path. She had the potential to become a great mage but chose a path filled with thorns instead.”

What Charlie left unsaid was that Elena had paid a price beyond most people’s imagination to obtain the powers of a witch. Many people thought that selling one’s soul was a simple and effortless act, but in reality, the more evil power one gained, the more terrifying and painful experiences one endured. And the most terrifying part was that there was no turning back from corruption; once you lightly hooked a finger with a demon extending from the darkness, you could never let go again.

“I graduated a few years before her, and during that time I traveled around. When I met her again, she had already become the heir to some evil power. She had inherited powerful forces, hatred, and a castle not meant for her. Columbus came from there.”

“Our mutual mentor once investigated where Elena was led astray. He believed the power she obtained came from an evil queen in history. Legend has it this queen committed countless atrocities to achieve immortality, building her dominion with human blood, and after her death, her powers and spirit lingered in something that wouldn’t fade away. Some speculate she managed to separate her spirit from her human shell, becoming a malevolent spirit, or in layman’s terms, a demon. This queen continuously seeks an heir among humans, continuing her wickedness through a shared soul. Columbus was probably a ‘creation’ of Elena’s previous heir.”

Finally tired from talking, Charlie stretched out his long legs as the night unknowingly fell. Outside the church was very quiet. Once they stopped talking, the only sound was the crackling of burning wood, making it hard not to feel sleepy.

---

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

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

---

Chapter 10

The startled horse bolted from the woods, and the young girl on its back was jostled up and down, looking as if she might fall off at any moment.

Three people spurred their horses to chase, and four gray shadows also sprang from the woods in relentless pursuit. Shivers tried to catch up to the white horse, but the crazed speed of the white horse was too fast, and the watchful gray wolves continuously tried to cut into their path, attempting to scatter the group.

Eugene’s horse, Catherine, was far less courageous and adaptable than Araceae and Midnight. Confronted directly by the gray wolves, it panicked, nearly throwing Eugene off, who had to cling tightly to it, unable to lend a hand.

The white horse in the lead, in its panic, rushed into a thick fog not far ahead. Dwight slowed down, only to find that the fog wasn’t mist but thick smoke from burning wood, so choking that Araceae slowed down, unwilling to run further.

Not only were the horses and humans baffled by this sudden smoke, but the persistently chasing wolves also halted their advance. They seemed unable to understand this strange smoke and hesitated on the spot before quickly retreating back into the woods.

Shivers instructed Eugene to wait with Dwight on the spot while he went to investigate. As he walked forward, the smoke thickened. Avoiding the wind, he saw, not far ahead, only two fire pits. The wood found under the snow couldn’t really catch fire, but it was the windy season, and the smoke-filled fire pits, when blown by the wind, spread a great deal of smoke. The Knight Commander, still on his horse, saw a small figure busily fanning the flames by one of the fire pits. Even through the white smoke, its red and blue uniform was particularly striking.

It was the little tin soldier from the rabbit shopkeeper’s side.

“I’ve wanted to ask for a long time,” Shivers said, puzzled. “Are you also a magical item?”

The little tin soldier looked offended.

“Of course, I am a person,” it said seriously. “You really are rude.”

The Duke, riding Araceae through the gradually clearing smoke, just heard this exchange. The assertive tone raised his eyebrows. “You’re a person? What about that rabbit then?”

The little tin soldier said, “Charlie isn’t a rabbit either!”

“Suit yourself,” Dwight said nonchalantly. “So he went off to play the hero?”

The little tin soldier clearly thought he was as rude as Shivers and refused to speak further. Dwight didn’t mind, and after nearly an hour, they saw the now calm white horse return, led by Charlie. The fluffy rabbit wore a finely made silk top hat on his fuzzy head.

Indeed, the young girl on horseback had fainted.

After a brief discussion, they decided to move forward with her, as the smoke had mostly cleared, and in this season of scarce prey, no one could guarantee that the hungry gray wolves wouldn’t follow again. Moreover, no one wanted to spend the night outdoors in this weather.

The rabbit-headed shopkeeper seemed not at all surprised to encounter Dwight and Shivers here. Both parties (mainly Dwight and Shivers) had things to say, but now wasn’t the time for reminiscing. They were still farther from the predetermined stopover at Popomia Village than indicated on the map, so to reach their destination before sunset, everyone quietly focused on the road.

Despite each having a mount, the bad road conditions, constant vigilance against wolf attacks, and fear of thieves left everyone exhausted. When Eugene finally saw a wisp of smoke and a low fence, he instantly perked up and rode his donkey forward to ask for directions.

A squat woman was feeding chickens behind the fence. She poured Eugene a glass of milk and directed them around the hillside to a spacious church that provided free firewood to passing travelers.

The dark brown stone path wound around the base of the hill, with fields still showing patches of white snow and low farm houses scattered about. Children dressed like round balls played with puppies and lambs, shyly running back into their houses when strangers passed, their dogs bravely barking at them, followed by adults’ scolding.

The dwellings here looked similar to those in Brandenburg’s territory. Once they reached populated areas, wild wolves rarely approached, so everyone slowed down, leisurely walking on the rural path, occasionally commenting on the smells wafting from a small window, guessing whether the dish being prepared was a fruit tart or apple pie.

The church the farm woman mentioned was on the east side of the village, situated on a large open space used for regular gatherings.

Unlike the grand churches Dwight had visited, with elaborate carvings, stained glass windows, and hand-painted ceilings, this modest church looked just a bit more refined than the farmhouses they had passed. Its flat stone walls were painted white, with dry coral vines hanging up to its highest point, easily imagining it covered in green leaves and red flowers in summer.

The church had no fireplace, only an old iron stove with a huge kettle rusted at the bottom.

In the corner of the courtyard, a shed shielded from snowstorms was filled with firewood.

Currently, the only guests in Popomia Village were them. When they pushed open the thick wooden door, the stirred dust made Dwight frown and step back several paces.

The severe winter season clearly left the church seldom tended; the benches were covered in dust, and the air smelled of rotting wood, forcing everyone to climb up to open all the windows.

Charlie and Shivers brought in firewood, and it took some time to start a fire as the ashes in the hearth hadn’t been cleaned for a while.

Hiring Eugene proved an exceedingly wise decision; even Dwight hadn’t recognized his skills beyond thievery. As Shivers started the fire, Eugene deftly used the church’s benches to make several makeshift beds, laid out blankets, and double-checked the doors and windows.

Charlie found a well behind the church, so he set up a large iron pot on the stove and cooked a pot of steaming onion soup.

Perhaps it was the aroma of the onion soup that finally awoke the sleeping girl.

She was placed on a bench by Shivers, and before she could fully open her eyes, her stomach growled loudly, drawing everyone’s attention.

As people were preparing to dine, they all quieted down, watching the girl in the red cloak slowly sit up and face them.

She had long, golden curly hair and a pair of beautiful eyes as blue as forget-me-nots, which reminded Dwight of the delicate handmade dolls in Priscilla’s room.

Beautiful women were a catalyst for the hormones of all bachelors. Eugene almost instinctively began to court her, lowering his voice, thinking he sounded deep and sexy. “You’re awake? Come over here (to the fire).”

The girl immediately widened her eyes in terror, trying to flee on all fours, unaware she was only lying on a narrow bench. Tripping over her cloak, she fell to the ground with a thud that made everyone wince in pain.

Eugene hurried forward to help her up but was pushed away by her as she scrambled behind the overturned bench.

Dwight had enough of the spectacle and finally drawled, “Excuse me, can someone remind that fool that he really looks like a creep?”

Their group was all male: two hooded men, a scraggly bearded man, and a bizarre rabbit-headed creature—ignoring the little tin soldier, they were indeed an odd bunch.

Anyone waking up to see such a group—and the first words from the obvious ruffian being a threat (?) to offer herself up—would be frightened.

Charlie quietly lowered his head and took a sip of onion soup with a “slurping” sound.

Shivers’ upbringing didn’t allow him to turn a blind eye to women in distress, so he rubbed his forehead. “Eugene, don’t get so close to her. You’ll give this young lady another fright, and she’ll faint again.”

His tone was steady and reassuring, and the girl turned her gaze to him upon hearing this.

The reliable Knight Commander didn’t make the same basic error as Eugene. He removed his hood and smiled warmly at the girl.

“We mean no harm,” Shivers said in a soothing tone. “We’re just passing merchants and leaving you alone in the wilderness would be too dangerous. We decided to take you along to a safe stopover. If you want, you can leave at any time.”

The girl seemed to calm down a bit, but she still eyed Eugene warily.

Shivers felt a headache coming on. “Eugene, no lady wants a strange man to get so close.”

Eugene looked at the girl.

She nodded without hesitation.

Deeply wounded, Eugene returned to the fire, not only having his confidence shattered but also enduring the unreserved ridicule from his employer.

Charlie patted the little tin soldier and sent it to offer a bowl of soup to the girl. Dwight glanced at him.

Though a moving tin soldier was quite odd, its cute and cheerful appearance greatly reduced any sense of threat, so the girl didn’t refuse the offer.

Saving someone from near-death was basic decency, but Dwight and Shivers both carried the coldness and self-interest typical of nobles. Shivers, in particular, was generally willing to show more gentleness and care to women, provided it didn’t conflict with his duties or beliefs. However, with Dwight around, the Duke’s safety and wishes always took top priority, so he didn’t intend to pay the girl much attention during their journey.

Dwight understood his Knight Commander, but Charlie’s attitude was intriguing. He had used the smoke to scare off the wolves, calmed the frightened horse, and saved the girl, but otherwise, the rabbit-headed shopkeeper was distant yet polite.

Charlie was the kind of man who could kiss the sheriff’s wife’s chubby hand without batting an eye and describe her as a “delicate flower”, so there was no reason for him to be so aloof when faced with an actual vulnerable girl.

Unfortunately, Eugene, the one willing to show interest in a pretty girl, was let down by his appearance. He had to sit by the fire, toasting dry bread to make it softer, while trying to listen in on the soft conversation between the little tin soldier and the girl.

They were a bit too far, and Eugene couldn’t hear anything.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you, ‘What’s with it?'” The picky Duke hadn’t eaten much and was determined not to let those around him focus on eating either.

Charlie put down his bowl and saw Dwight tilting his head, looking at the little tin soldier sitting beside the girl.

“Are you talking about Columbus? He’s human,” Charlie replied.

Dwight let out a scoff.

Charlie seemed somewhat helpless. “What do you want me to say? He is indeed human. He just had an unfortunate accident that turned him into what he is now.”

Eugene’s attention was drawn to the conversation. “What kind of accident turns a person into a tin soldier?” He knew that fires and carriage accidents could cause injuries and deformities, but turning into a completely different, non-living entity was simply too bizarre.

“If it’s due to magic, it would take a very skilled mage to achieve that. Most wizards at the Clerical Institute can only change hair and skin color with potions,” Shivers said in a lowered voice. “Transforming a human being is highly evil magic and strictly forbidden. Who would be so bold?”

---

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

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

---

Chapter 9

In Lemena, the existence of witches was considered very ominous—along with everything related to witches.

In some extreme villages and towns, there were still occurrences of people suspected of affiliating with witches being burned alive. Most people who heard about such events were only grateful that the local residents were saved from a terrible disaster.

Therefore, Dwight’s method of fishing this time could be described as quite hardcore. After it was revealed that the treasure they had was a product of a witch, the Stonewall Inn lost most of its guests within a day, and even those who were most enthusiastic about discussing the miraculous jug clammed up.

Thus, old Barry gleefully kicked them out.

The Duke and the Knight Commander suffered no losses—their original goal was merely to find Eugene, and after the matter was handled, they covered their faces with hoods, ensuring no one would recognize them.

Shivers was a bit uneasy because his savior had also disappeared, and he felt he hadn’t properly repaid him.

If he had revealed his identity as Shivers, the Knight Commander of Brandenburg, he could have offered gold or jewels as a thank you, but as Traveler Green, it was unwise to display wealth.

Dwight didn’t comment on this. Unlike Shivers, who was innately upright and transparent, Dwight’s suspicious nature made him distrust any coincidence, so he kept a watchful eye on the man who had unexpectedly helped them, maintaining an impassive facade.

His intuition told him that this man was hiding something from everyone. If they weren’t in Kamal without anyone to deploy, the typical approach of the Duke of Brandenburg would be to have someone secretly follow Oscar until he learned what the name of his family pet was or ensure that he wouldn’t ‘coincidentally’ appear before them again.

Unfortunately, being away from home meant simplifying matters.

The naturally paranoid Duke no longer bothered with his Knight Commander, turning his attention instead to a new member of their travel group.

Eugene was forced to bathe in the dead of winter, with Shivers personally overseeing the stable boy scrubbing Eugene as if he was scrubbing a pot, until Eugene was as clean as a freshly prepared pig ready for the slaughter. His matted, tangled hair was neatly trimmed, and after much negotiation, Eugene’s large beard was shortened and tidied into a neat style. Cleanly dressed, the formerly disreputable thief now looked quite handsome.

Only Eugene wasn’t satisfied; losing his beard made him feel very insecure, and he covered himself up tightly, more afraid of revealing his identity than Dwight and Shivers.

It took Shivers only one night to thoroughly unravel Eugene’s background. Born in a remote village, his parents had many children but could not support them. Since the age of eight, when Eugene realized that even defeating all his siblings for oatmeal porridge wouldn’t satisfy his hunger, he resolutely ran away from home.

A child under ten growing up alone naturally experiences all sorts of dirty deeds and situations, but it must be said that Eugene had a talent for survival that far exceeded that of ordinary people, which was why Dwight took an interest in him.

In the carriage robbery incident, Eugene was the only one who wasn’t blinded by greed and accurately predicted the situation to escape. Although it was chaotic, Dwight instantly distinguished him from the other two brainless fools.

And Eugene’s obsession with the magic jug he threw away in desperation and his return to steal it confirmed Dwight’s judgment. Despicable yet fearful, shrewd yet low-key, and most importantly, poor.

A broken jug could hook him so deeply that the wealthy Duke was confident he could manipulate him as he wished.

Knowing it was a witch’s artifact, Eugene completely gave up on his ‘treasure’, even wanting to distance himself as much as possible from it.

There were many rumors about witches on the continent, one of which was that every witch’s emblem was her eye, through which she could see everything she wanted to see scattered around the emblem.

Eugene certainly didn’t want to appear within a witch’s field of vision. But the jug was the only valuable thing he owned, and the substantial loss left Eugene disheartened until Dwight offered a generous reward, making Eugene shamelessly commit on the spot—Eugene still remembered the extravagantly luxurious carriage at the edge of the forest.

After leaving the Stonewall Inn, they didn’t immediately leave the city but split up from Eugene. Wrapped in an old cloak, Eugene quickly disappeared into the alleys with the crowd, returning before dark with the information Dwight wanted.

“Indeed, someone saw a man with a high-top hat and a rabbit head,” Eugene reported to Dwight. “He wasn’t hiding his movements. It was easy to inquire about him. The night before last, he was drinking in a small tavern on Hyena Alley, and everyone thought he was from the circus because he performed a few impromptu card tricks.”

As Eugene said, for someone with an unusual appearance, Charlie’s movements weren’t discreet. He stayed in Kamal for two days, shopping, drinking, watching plays, and even winning a robust donkey in a card game at a tavern.

This information inspired Dwight. When they left Kamal, Eugene also received a small donkey as transportation. Even compared to ordinary horses, the mounts Dwight and Shivers rode, Araceae and Midnight, were exceptionally distinguished. Looking at their fine horses, Eugene sweet-talked Dwight.

“Sir, we are on a long journey. For someone of your noble status, such meager luggage is too modest. If we don’t find a place to stay overnight, we should at least bring a tent, a pot, and a pillow, and pack more warm clothing. It’s difficult without a carriage.”

“We’ll follow the main road. There will be villages until the next city. Driving a carriage is inconvenient if we encounter pine forests and streams.” Shivers, of course, knew what Eugene was up to. “Buying you a donkey to carry the luggage was already a great kindness. You should know that in our territory, attendants are expected to walk.”

Eugene assessed Shivers’ combat capabilities and, although reluctant, he kept quiet. The coldest part of winter had passed, and each day was warmer than the last. Thanks to Dwight, Eugene found himself in the most elaborate underwear, robes, wool coats, and snow hats he’d ever worn. He even had long boots, and truly, there was nothing left to complain about.

For Shivers, it was his Duke who exhibited astonishing adaptability. At Brandenburg, even slightly uncomfortable cushions could irritate the Duke, but since they’d set out, he’d shown remarkable tolerance for their less-than-ideal conditions, which made Shivers feel quite guilty. Although they ensured as much comfort as possible during their journey, their nomadic lifestyle couldn’t compare to the luxuries of Brandenburg. And considering the witch’s jug, they were never short of ill-intentioned encounters on the road.

In such circumstances, Eugene’s presence was quite essential since he was one of those who could harbor ‘ill intentions’ towards others’ possessions. Having such a character in the group indeed helped to detect dangers that Dwight and Shivers, with their noble upbringing, might overlook.

Eugene, a natural wanderer, persuaded Dwight and Shivers to take a detour on lesser paths without straying from the main road’s direction.

Typically, these rugged paths were harder to navigate than well-paved roads, especially during the rainy season, when even the largest horses could get stuck in the mud.

However, the conditions were better in winter, and unless one was part of a heavily-armed caravan, experienced travelers seldom took the main roads ostentatiously. Every major road had its share of unpredictable robbers and bandits, making unarmed travelers exceedingly cautious. Dwight and Shivers weren’t afraid of a fight, but they suspected that the shopkeeper, with only his tin soldier, wouldn’t foolishly attract highway robbers by traveling the main roads. Taking the lesser paths could increase their chances of catching up with him.

The reasons Eugene, a former thief, gave for taking these routes were quite persuasive. His extensive experience allowed him to read the signs of nature, like the moss on trees and the shapes of puddles, and on a few occasions, he even spotted some inconspicuous footprints.

“These must be donkey prints,” he stated confidently. “They look just like the ones made by my Catherine.”

As Shivers was about to dismount to take a closer look, Midnight and Araceae became restless, stomping small pits into the damp soil.

Eugene, who was crouching on the ground, reacted quickly and clambered onto his Catherine, scanning the surroundings vigilantly.

“What is it?” Shivers asked, noticing something was off and lowering his voice.

“Wolves,” Eugene muttered from the corner of his mouth.

Behind them, several gray shapes had followed unnoticed, concealing themselves behind trees and rocks, revealing only small sections of their forms. Their green, glowing eyes would have been more visible at night, but even under the fading sun, these cunning creatures merely followed at a safe distance, like ominous shadows.

“Let’s keep moving forward,” Eugene suddenly declared loudly. “We’ll reach a village before dark.”

Then he added in a much lower voice, “We can’t run now. If we do, the wolf pack will catch up quickly since horses can’t run fast in the forest. Let’s move forward until we reach the open plains, then we can run for it. Once we get to the village, they won’t follow.”

This wasn’t Shivers’ first encounter with wolves, but usually, he led a squadron of knights, so a few hungry gray wolves were no threat. However, now he had to prioritize the Duke’s safety and needed to be extra cautious. Subconsciously, he didn’t include Dwight in his calculations of combat strength—if he had to defend himself with a sword, it would be a disgrace.

Wolves were said to smell human fear. Knowing the wolves would wait patiently for an opportunity, Eugene deliberately talked and laughed loudly, repeatedly boasting about a time he fought off two bandits alone.

Shivers half-heartedly engaged in the conversation while keeping an eye on the wolves. Perhaps Eugene’s bravado was effective; the distance between them and the wolves increased until they were no longer visible as they exited the forest.

Forest wolves were notoriously cunning hunters, and no one would think they’d give up that easily. They were about to speed up to reach the village by sunset when they suddenly heard a commotion from the woods behind them.

“What’s that sound?” Eugene asked, puzzled.

“Wolves!” Shivers’ face fell as he heard a wolf howl.

But instead of wolves, a white horse burst from the trees behind them, carrying a young girl draped in a crimson cloak with long golden hair spilling from under her hat, clutching the reins tightly. She appeared to have lost control of the horse and was likely unconscious, as she made no cry for help.

---

The author has something to say:

The design of the girl’s red cloak is inspired by the Grimm Brothers’ fairy tale “Little Red Riding Hood”.

---

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

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

---

Chapter 8

Barry, the owner of the Stonewall Inn, took pride in two things: his naturally thick and perfectly trimmed beard and the cider brewed by his wife.

It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that the Stonewall Inn became the largest establishment in Kamal City thanks to Barry’s famous cider.

However, the guests who arrived yesterday almost ruined his reputation.

Twenty-four hours had passed, but the town was still buzzing with talk—two travelers had checked into the Stonewall Inn, bringing with them a miraculous artifact!

Even those who weren’t present at the time delighted in describing the scene to everyone: two people braving the wind and snow entered Barry’s inn, immediately requesting the best room.

Of course, Barry began his usual sales pitch: no one can claim to have visited Kamal without trying his cider!

But this time, the two strangers claimed they had brought along fine wine. Barry immediately proposed a challenge, but the two pulled out a magical jug that seemed to endlessly refill itself, providing enough wine for everyone in the inn and still remained full after pouring!

Poor old Barry knew his reputation was at stake, but what made him angry was that his wife didn’t mind at all and even went out of her way to provide the best linens for the two men.

For heaven’s sake, those two guys were always hooded, so their faces were unknown, and that superficial woman was completely smitten by their ‘gentlemanly behavior’, utterly irrational.

Feeling extremely imbalanced psychologically, Barry didn’t warn the two “pretty boys” when several shady-looking individuals started making trouble in the inn.

Although no one had seen what the two men looked like, Barry was sure they were pretty boys.

Perhaps they were servants of some noble, flaunting stolen goods from their masters without understanding the risks.

Thanks to those two strangers, his inn had been busier than ever these past two days, not clearing out until nearly midnight, but Barry wasn’t pleased. He put the last clean cup in the cupboard and felt like he had barely laid down for half an hour when he was awoken by several sharp shouts.

“Damn it!” Barry roared as he rolled out of bed, picked up the hammer from beside his bed, forcefully opened the door, and headed towards the lobby—being the owner, he was used to dealing with drunken troublemakers at midnight.

But as he stepped out of his room, he saw a sleazy-looking skinny man tumbling down the stairs, and Barry looked up to see a tall man striding down the steps, wielding a short sword.

The sound of chaotic footsteps came from upstairs. Another man flipped over the railing and landed heavily on a square wooden table, clutching a large box. The dim lobby erupted into chaos, and Barry foolishly stood with his hammer, watching as at least four or five men brawled in his inn.

The tall man with the sword lunged forward, seemingly attempting to seize the large box, when a voice from upstairs shouted, “Shivers!”

With that warning, Barry saw a glint of cold light behind the tall man, followed by a loud “clang!” as something heavily collided.

Dwight, who had flipped the thief downstairs, saw clearly—a man wielding a double-headed axe was quietly approaching Shivers. There were three men downstairs, and Shivers was focused on the jug—Dwight barely had time to shout a warning before someone quicker than Shivers intercepted the double-headed ax with a long-handled copper candlestick.

Shivers, true to his title as Knight Commander, was fully enraged by this unreserved attack after previously holding some reservations about these thieves.

He, along with the newly alert Barry and Dwight, who had jumped down from the upstairs, neatly tied up the three thieves—plus another waiting near the door to assist them.

The man who blocked the ax for Shivers picked up the box from the ground and handed it to Dwight. The box, overwhelmed by the fierce fight, fell apart as soon as it was released, and Dwight quickly caught the contents that tumbled out.

Even in the dim light of the lobby, Barry saw clearly—it was the miraculous jug that endlessly poured out wine!

So, these two young men were the travelers with the miraculous jug? Barry felt a bit sour inside, reluctant to admit his wife’s intuition was right. These two were indeed unforgettable in appearance, and their skills were exceptional, managing to overpower four with ease, setting aside the ambusher hidden in the shadows. They seemed to have retrieved their treasure with little effort.

“Excuse me. Some light, please.” Dwight casually juggled the jug, his eyes keenly watching the men tied up on the floor.

Barry set down the hammer and took the candlestick that had been used as a weapon, preparing to light some candles.

“I think I’ll go back to my room,” the young man who had been holding the candlestick suddenly said. “It looks like you have things to handle.”

Shivers quickly said, “Please wait a moment, sir. I haven’t thanked you for your help.”

Perhaps because he was woken up in the middle of the night, the young man’s voice was a bit hoarse. “I just heard the noise and came to look. I didn’t really help much.”

“Alright.” Barry lit the candles, muttering. “What a night. I’m going to light the fireplace and boil some water.”

He turned with the candlestick in hand, his eyes involuntarily twitching. The young man standing in the corner looked uncomfortable staying in the lobby. But what Barry was thinking was: What the hell did I witness tonight? First those two boys, now this one—

Old Barry was at a loss for words. Unlike the other two young men, the one with the short sword was clearly a knight, tall and handsome with exceptional skills, the type that young girls adore; the other was so beautiful it was almost beyond gender, a face so delicately featured and haughty that anyone, man or woman, would be taken aback at first glance.

The person in front of him wasn’t as remarkable in stature or facial features as the other two. His eyes were unlike any Barry had seen before, slightly elongated and pointed at the corners, resembling a half-squinting cat. His short, golden-copper hair curled slightly at the ends, and both his nose and lips were thin. Even at night, it was evident his skin had the pallor of someone rarely touched by the sun. Barry, not as eloquent as a noble who could fill a book with love poems, simply thought the man looked like a vampire from afar.

He wasn’t particularly handsome in a conventional sense, but intriguing enough to make one want to step closer and take a closer look.

Barry didn’t remember seeing such a person in his inn, but in a city like Kamal, which served as a hub among several major cities, many travelers didn’t show their true faces.

The young man clearly didn’t like being studied. He stepped back, retreating from the candlelight.

‘Even his behavior is somewhat vampire-like,’ Barry thought.

But vampires were very rare, and they usually avoided human settlements. Besides his unhealthy skin tone, the young man’s behavior didn’t seem out of the ordinary.

Shivers, less suspicious than Barry, found several cups and insisted on offering him a drink.

“I’m Green,” Shivers said warmly. “I really appreciate your help earlier.”

“Oscar.” The young man smiled. “What happened? Encountered some thieves?”

The answer was obvious.

Dwight studied the people on the floor in the candlelight and suddenly asked, “You’ve changed partners?”

The man he had flipped down the stairs replied, “I don’t know them—and strictly speaking, you’re the thieves. I was just retrieving my belongings.”

Shivers hadn’t accompanied Dwight into the forest and naturally didn’t recognize the man as the one who had ambushed by the carriage with the jug.

“The jug is mine!” he declared. “It even has my name on it!”

He didn’t mention how he had lost the jug.

“Your name?” Dwight glanced at him quizzically.

There was only Witch Elena’s emblem on the bottom of the jug, just a design unrelated to any name, and Dwight couldn’t see any resemblance between this dirty, disheveled man and the legendary witch.

“There, on the handle,” he said irritably. “There’s a letter ‘E’ carved under the handle. That’s my name, Eugene.”

Dwight, Shivers, Oscar, and Barry all leaned in to see, and indeed, there were some crude carvings under the handle that could hardly be recognized as letters unless he pointed it out.

And…

“You carved that yourself, right?” Shivers remarked. “Your handiwork isn’t very good.”

“It’s at least proof I’m not a thief,” Eugene argued. “Can you let me go now?”

“You snuck into my room in the middle of the night, trying to take something that isn’t yours. What are you if not a thief?” Dwight said coldly.

“That’s my property! I bought it from—a merchant in Rafferty!”

“Oh? Then tell us,” Dwight spun the jug in his hand. “How many gold coins did you pay for something made by Witch Elena?”

As he spoke, most in the room looked horrified. Even the tied-up thieves seemed like they’d rather faint right there.

“A witch?” Eugene was stunned.

Oscar coughed lightly. “So, these gentlemen didn’t know what they were stealing?”

Barry dryly said, “If they didn’t know it was a witch’s jug but thought it was just a magical jug that produced endless wine, I think even more people would come to steal it.”

“I must say I’m lucky.” Dwight chuckled. “The first night and the people I was looking for came to me.”

Everyone except Shivers stared at him.

Dwight casually placed the jug on the table next to him, and Barry couldn’t help but move a bit further away from it.

Eugene seemed to understand something, looking up to meet Dwight’s gaze.

“I’ve been waiting for you to come for me, and you didn’t disappoint,” Dwight said softly. “Welcome, you despicable bastard who likes to take advantage of others and bully those who have more.”

Shivers looked at Eugene with sympathy.

---

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

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

---

Chapter 7

The young and wealthy Duke only stayed in Maplewood for a few days before leaving, but that didn’t stop him from quickly becoming a living legend, largely due to his striking handsomeness.

Although Maplewood was small, it had seen its share of royal processions and foreign merchants with fingers fully decked in gemstone rings, but none had captured the town’s attention like Duke Dwight.

The town’s oldest resident tirelessly told everyone that he had lived for a hundred years and had never seen anyone more beautiful than Duke Dwight.

“Don’t listen to him,” Charlie said loudly, holding up a mug of coarse beer. “Uncle Bob isn’t a hundred years old, and the furthest he’s been is to the corn farm. What kind of beauty would he have seen there? At most, they held a beauty contest for scarecrows…”

The crowd laughed, and a bearded drunkard chimed in, “Old Bob can barely see! I don’t believe it—describing a man with beauty, what’s that about! If you ask me, the most beautiful person is Mona. There’s no one prettier than our innkeeper in the world!”

The innkeeper by the bar couldn’t smile; her earlobes throbbed with pain.

The sheriff’s wife had initially been eager to marry her daughter into the Duke’s castle, but since the Duke was mostly away, she settled for trying to get close to the knight left in charge of the inn, which Mona had blocked several times, causing quite a bit of unpleasantness between them.

Charlie approached the bar, his voice low with a hint of laughter. “Drinks on me for everyone, Mona.”

Mona turned to instruct the bartender, taking the money bag from Charlie and asking, “Made a good profit?”

The manager downed the rest of his drink.

“The Duke is very generous.” According to their agreement, the Duke actually didn’t have to pay him anything this time, but Dwight had still given him a substantial sum before leaving, noting that it wouldn’t affect future payments.

“But you gave too much.” Mona frowned, her beautiful, dark eyes lingering on the money bag. “There’s enough here for everyone to drink for three days and nights.”

Charlie said, “Keep it here, and we’ll use it for drinks at the Bacchus Festival in spring.”

The Bacchus Festival was a spring event to pray for and celebrate the harvest.

The astute innkeeper quickly sensed something amiss in his words. “Why leave it here? Won’t you be in town in the spring?”

Charlie winked at her. “A pretty woman shouldn’t pry into a man’s whereabouts. Don’t overthink it. I just made a big deal and got drunk. It’s rare for me to be so foolish. If you don’t want it, give those lovely silver coins back to me.”

As he said this, he reached out for the bag.

Mona hid the money bag behind her back. “They haven’t paid for their drinks tonight yet!”

Charlie leaned on the bar, whistling long and loudly at her, drawing cheers from the crowd—who all knew the beautiful innkeeper only acted like a young girl when dealing with Charlie.

Mona’s cheeks flushed red, and she shouted, “I must have been crazy to worry about you, you scoundrel! You’re not leaving my pub tonight without spending your last coin!”

The bearded man, who had a crush on Mona, immediately got angry, staggering up with his drink and blowing air through his nostrils like a bull.

“Don’t mess with Mona!” he yelled.

A crowd quickly gathered around.

“A duel! A duel! A duel!”

“Drink! Drink! Drink!”

A drinking contest was undoubtedly the most exciting event on a boring winter night, and once started, it wouldn’t quiet down until after midnight.

Mona glanced at Charlie, who was energetically rolling up his sleeves for the contest, and suddenly felt foolish.

It was just a drunkard’s jest, and she had taken it seriously.

The consequences of excessive drinking were direct. The next day, the men couldn’t get up.

In winter, there was no fieldwork, but hangovers were still annoying, and the women gathered, complaining about their men while discussing which foods would best soothe their alcohol-ravaged stomachs.

Bachelor Charlie had no such domestic troubles, and when his shop remained closed until the next afternoon, people bet he’d only wake up when his stove went out at midnight.

But there was no sign of him the next day or the day after.

Only when his neighbor found an envelope in their mailbox with Charlie’s ornate handwriting asking for help with his garden over the summer did people realize something was amiss.

The envelope contained the key to his garden.

Mona was right. Charlie wasn’t just a scoundrel but also a liar.

Without notice, without saying goodbye, on a night unnoticed by all, the rabbit-headed shopkeeper silently left Maplewood with the little tin soldier.

Almost the day after Charlie’s departure was noticed, the ‘renowned for his beauty’ Duke Dwight sent a messenger.

Unlike the fully armed, sword-bearing knight of the previous visit, this time a well-dressed middle-aged gentleman arrived at 22 Elmwood Street with a letter from the Duke.

21 Elmwood Street was a solidly built fruit grower who had never dealt with nobility and stutteringly told the visitor that the man he was looking for had gone away.

“No one knows when he left,” said Fruit Grower Joseph, standing nervously in front of his house. “Charlie is—probably most of the time, quite mysterious.”

“So, did Mr. Charlie ever mention where he might go?” the gentleman pondered.

“Not at all,” Joseph answered proficiently, as this wasn’t the first time he had been asked this.

In fact, Charlie’s unannounced departure left many women in town quite upset. In his view, there were so many good young men in Maplewood; heaven knows why it was Charlie, with his rabbit head, who was the most popular.

After determining that he could learn nothing more, the gentleman didn’t even visit the pub but hurriedly left.

His master was waiting for him.

“It seems he had planned this in advance,” the butler said as he brought the unopened envelope bearing the Duke’s family crest back to Dwight. “Asking the neighbor to look after the garden means he won’t be back until at least the end of summer. I looked through the window from outside the garden, and indeed, all the furniture was covered with cloths.”

Rabbits were indeed very cunning.

The Duke placed the letter into the fire, the flames casting half his face in shadow, giving him the appearance of an unfinished portrait.

“Take the carriage back,” Dwight commanded as the ashes of the letter fell to the carriage floor, stepping down from the carriage. “Shivers.”

The waiting Knight Commander, leading Araceae, assisted his master onto the horse.

“You all go back,” Dwight said to the butler from horseback.

The butler immediately objected, “Your Lordship, you absolutely must not leave Lemena with only one knight. It’s far too dangerous.”

“I won’t be going with just one knight,” Dwight stated gravely. “Alyssa’s husband is not a man of broad spirit. Having Brandenburg’s forces appear in his territory would only harm Alyssa.”

The butler pursed his lips tightly. He had served the Dwight family for generations, and the Duke could tell he wasn’t conceding.

“My plans won’t change,” he continued. “It doesn’t matter if that man has already fled. I will take enough men with me. The Dwights don’t rashly court death.”

Shivers exchanged a look with the butler.

“At least take Shiloh with you.” The butler stepped back, and the baby-faced knight immediately stepped forward.

Dwight glanced at Shivers, and the Knight Commander moved forward to whisper something in Shiloh’s ear.

Shiloh’s expression brightened immediately. “Please take care, Your Lordship, and have a safe journey!”

The butler: “……”

No one ever listened, making life quite difficult.

Regardless, the actual ruler of Brandenburg was Duke Dwight. Seeing that his advice was ineffective, the worried butler could only lead the team back to Brandenburg with heavy concern.

Shivers, riding Midnight, stayed half a horse’s length behind Dwight. Long journeys were a compulsory skill for a knight, but although the Duke had been trained in combat and physical skills from a young age, strictly speaking, he lacked experience in long-distance travel.

After all, he was still very young, and even Shivers couldn’t say for certain that he could handle all potential situations along the way. But the Dwights were always clever, and he believed the Duke had his reasons for insisting on a small team.

“Sir, shall we first try to find Shopkeeper Charlie?” Shivers asked. “But the whole town doesn’t know where he has gone.”

He knew the Duke had mentioned needing more hands, and Charlie was supposedly part of the plan from the start.

But it seemed Charlie, perhaps possessing a prescient ability, had vanished without a trace ahead of time.

“That man is very cunning,” Dwight said gravely. “If he wants to keep something secret, not even the candlesticks in the confessional could overhear him. And since he was born in Maplewood, even if someone knows where he went, they wouldn’t tell us truthfully.”

The Knight Commander couldn’t help asking, “What should we do then? With another snowfall, not even a fox’s tracks will remain, and we’ll have no direction.”

“There is,” Dwight said. “Like us, he has only one route out of Lemena this season.”

Lemena was a peninsula extending from the continent of Pennigra. It was surrounded by sea on three sides, with the seas frozen over in the winter cold. There was only one land route connected to the continent of Doran. If Charlie’s ultimate destination wasn’t on Pennigra, then he was confident in Araceae and Midnight’s stamina, unless he planned to cross the sea by sled. Sooner or later, they would catch up to him.

Whether his hasty departure from Maplewood was because he foresaw Dwight seeking him again or for another reason…

Dwight remembered Charlie’s reaction to seeing the teapot bearing Witch Elena’s emblem. The witch’s realm lay in the eastern part of Doran, and coincidentally—

Dwight’s eyes darkened.

Eastern Doran was very close to Priscilla.

Charlie claimed to be merely a somewhat connected shopkeeper, but Dwight saw him as never truly revealing his identity.

To know an astrologer accessible only to the upper echelons, yet living in Maplewood among farmers; during the days Dwight spent with him, Charlie showed no particular powers, but the little tin soldier accompanying him was clearly a product of magic; and he instantly recognized a witch’s emblem that most would never see in their lifetimes.

Not to mention his conspicuous, odd rabbit head.

But because of his own nonchalant attitude towards his rabbit head, he even managed to suggest to others that ‘it’s a bit odd, but not unacceptable—perhaps he got into some trouble resulting in that.’

It was only upon reflection that Dwight realized that not only did the residents of Maplewood treat Charlie no differently, including the naive children who were used to his presence and sensed nothing unusual—

Even Dwight himself, despite finding his head conspicuous, never thought to ask about it.

Not even once.

---

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

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

---

Chapter 6

The journey back always seemed shorter than the way there—perhaps because the Duke quickened his pace considerably.

Despite an early start, the round trip had consumed most of the day, and by the time they exited the mine, the sun was nearly gone. If they didn’t speed up, they might not reach Maplewood until close to midnight.

The two white horses, likely impatient from waiting, became restless at the sight of their master. Charlie was quite fond of these tall, beautiful horses and hurried over to feed them before setting off.

However, as he approached the carriage, the snow under his feet suddenly gave way, and a force violently tugged at his ankle. Before he could cry out, the world flipped upside down!

The rabbit shopkeeper blinked and tried to straighten his neck to understand what had happened.

Dwight stopped in his tracks, watching as Charlie, like a slender pendulum, dangled slightly in mid-air, his long ears comically drooping down.

It was a trap set next to the carriage.

Dwight ignored Charlie, who began to spin 360 degrees to observe his surroundings. ‘Araceae’ snorted impatiently as three tall men leaped from behind the rocks, bursting into laughter upon seeing Charlie’s predicament.

“Who said the best hunters are helpless in this wretched weather? Todd, we should let that old red-nosed drunk see this. We’ve snared a rabbit!”

“But his body is human—good lord, what is this creature? Does it have fur on its hands and feet like a rabbit too?”

One of them didn’t laugh.

“Forget the rabbit,” he said, eyeing Dwight from the start. “We should first deal with the fat sheep that’s with the rabbit.”

Dwight let the men size him up unabashedly. His face, mostly hidden by his hood, turned towards the continuously wriggling Charlie.

“Rarely traveled?” he said sarcastically.

The rabbit shopkeeper chuckled.

He wasn’t new to the Greenwoods, and he could swear on everything valuable in his shop that he had never seen a single soul in this vicinity before!

“Perhaps it’s because your carriage is too dazzling, its golden decorations sparkling in the snow, piquing the curiosity of everyone within miles.” Even upside down, the shopkeeper refused to be outdone in verbal sparring.

Dwight scoffed.

The uninvited thieves were probably not used to being ignored so completely. A man with unkempt hair pulled out a knife.

“Take off your cloak, boy,” he said maliciously. “Let’s see what else you have on you—a pocket watch? A pipe? Your belt and boots—if you cooperate, I might just swap my precious rat fur coat with you… It’s really freezing enough to turn people into ice sculptures, right?”

“Are you illiterate?” Dwight instead asked a seemingly irrelevant question.

The thieves were momentarily taken aback.

The Duke didn’t seem to actually wait for an answer; he unhitched his cloak, discarding the expensive deep green garment without a second thought onto the snowy ground.

One of the thieves gasped softly. They were all visibly stunned by Dwight’s appearance. The Duke, not yet fully past his teenage years, had pale skin, long and curled eyelashes complementing his light-colored eyes, a prominent nose, and a sharp chin. If not for his short hair, which no noblewoman would wear, they might have mistaken him for a ‘miss’.

“Right.” The leader of the thieves couldn’t help but glance at the pure gold clasps on the cloak, his Adam’s apple involuntarily twitching. “And your coat, it looks really valuable…”

Dwight, of course, didn’t continue undressing.

With a twist of his wrist, he drew a slender sword from his black cane.

“Since you don’t recognize the noble family crest, nor the initials engraved on the carriage,” he revealed his first smile of the day, “then you’re not trained assassins or soldiers with ulterior motives.”

In other words, easily defeated.

Probably no one expected this lavishly dressed noble to also carry a fine weapon. As he drew his sword, someone instinctively stepped back.

But the thief leader, fully prepared to take his luxurious clothes, was incensed by his contemptuous tone and charged at him like an uncontrollable brown bear. The thick snow didn’t hinder Dwight; he sidestepped and swiftly thrust his sword, neatly piercing the man’s ‘precious rat fur coat’ with surprising force, almost piercing the flesh.

The thief leader cried out and rolled backward, his heart pounding uncontrollably. In this snowy weather, they wore as much thick clothing as possible, yet his seemingly effortless thrust penetrated the layers—his weapon was much sharper than theirs!

And his actions made it clear that he wasn’t like the typical corpulent noble, helpless without their bodyguards.

“Todd!” he cried urgently, but his brother misunderstood, thinking he had slipped by accident. As part of the team, he immediately lunged at Dwight.

“Wait—” another thief sensed something amiss and tried to stop Todd but only grabbed the hem of his clothing, while Dwight switched to offense, striking directly at Todd’s throat!

The thief, who failed to grab Todd, reacted quickly, throwing something hard at him with great force. Dwight couldn’t retract his sword in time and had to duck; the heavy projectile grazed his hair.

As he paused, the thief leader had already scrambled up from the ground, along with another man, and they pulled Todd as they sprinted away.

Dwight didn’t pursue but checked for more ambushes before sheathing his sword back into his cane.

The little tin soldier, frightened into hiding under the carriage, slowly peeked out, regarding Dwight with a new mix of surprise and admiration.

The shopkeeper, completely forgotten at the side, complained, “I’m getting a brain rush.”

“What did he hit you with?” The shopkeeper, having been hung upside down for too long, was still seeing stars and could only climb into the carriage, tripping over his own feet.

The little tin soldier, energetically, had found the black object in the snow and also brought it onto the carriage.

“My joints are frozen,” the little tin soldier exclaimed. “I can barely move.”

“I found some oil in the mine,” Charlie said.

Dwight, sitting far from them, seemed eager to criticize their oiling activities inside his carriage, but considering Charlie had just fulfilled his promise, he reluctantly conceded and pretended not to see the scene that irritated his sense of cleanliness.

But the little tin soldier wouldn’t be quiet, continuing to chatter even after being oiled. “Is this oil or water? Something feels very wrong, Charlie!”

“If you keep your mouth shut for a while, it’ll be much better,” Charlie patiently said, taking the black object from the little tin soldier.

It looked like a clay teapot, unadorned and worn smooth from handling. Dwight glanced at it with disdain and turned away, scolding, “How can you touch everything with your hands? Is it a habit developed from digging?”

“It’s just a teapot—here.”

As Charlie extended his hand, Dwight immediately leaned back, his face full of caution.

“You’re still wearing gloves.”

“Gloves knitted by fairies, worth ten gold coins in the Empire.”

“Alright, alright.”

“Seriously, why pick up this trash?”

Charlie paused in his actions, not answering immediately but instead carefully turning the teapot over to inspect it again. “I always feel there’s something not quite right—”

He stopped abruptly.

Dwight followed his gaze and saw a small, shallow relief on the bottom of the teapot that looked like a strange bird with two heads—one raised high and the other bowed as if drinking water.

“A two-headed raven?” Dwight’s eyebrows raised. “The emblem of the witch Elena.”

The last statement was definitive.

The rabbit shopkeeper was a bit surprised. “I thought people from the Northern Continent weren’t very familiar with witches from the south.”

Witches and female mages were different. Although both were proficient in magic, witches were generally considered mages who had gone astray, trading their humanity for more powerful and evil forces in deals with demons, and were shunned everywhere.

But not many female mages actually succeed in enhancing their powers through evil means. Witch Elena was one of them. However, she had never set foot on the Northern Continent, and this was the first time Charlie heard her name mentioned in Lemena.

Charlie carefully examined the teapot, then suddenly laughed. “Kurt was absolutely right. He really is the best astrologer.”

Dwight didn’t try to understand his muttering. He was contemplating more pressing matters.

His trip was for Priscilla, and now, having obtained the desired results from the astrologer, it brought him even greater dilemmas.

His only sister was in a dire situation.

Now, the roses of Brandenburg were no longer his priority. Dwight didn’t speak again on the way back to Maplewood until they could see its gates from afar, when he unexpectedly asked, “Have you lived in Maplewood all your life?”

“Of course not,” the shopkeeper said without hesitation. “I was born in Maplewood but left when I was very young. It was only three years ago that I came back to Lemena. I thought the old family home was gone. Thank goodness—that saved me a good deal of money. But if you ask me, gold shines no matter where it is, you see…”

He gave Dwight a meaningful look, implying, ‘My shop has served countless important people, and you are just one of them’.

Dwight had almost grown accustomed to the rabbit-headed shopkeeper’s occasional verbal affronts, but this time, he didn’t use his usual sarcastic comeback. Instead, he meaningfully curled the corner of his mouth.

“I agree,” the Duke said. “Gold shines no matter where it is.”

For some reason, in that moment, that nearly whispered phrase made Charlie’s hair stand on end.

Luckily, he didn’t have a tail. Otherwise, it would have been quite embarrassing if it had puffed up.

---

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

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

---

Chapter 5

A rich aroma of plants and earth filled Dwight’s nostrils as he entered a scene he had never witnessed before: towering ancient trees with smaller bushes and moss-covered stones between them. The dense canopy obscured the sky, making it scarcely brighter than the mine they had just left.

He looked back to find that the mine’s exit was inconspicuously nestled under a small earthen mound, with the dark bronze door blending seamlessly into the soil. Many unnamed vines and wildflowers enveloped the entire door, explaining why Charlie had struggled to fully open it.

A brightly colored beetle busily climbed to the tip of Dwight’s boot before hurriedly burrowing into the mud beside his foot.

“This way,” Charlie said, stepping effortlessly over a fallen pine tree.

Long green vines hung from the trees. Dwight frowned, pulling his cloak tighter…

…He always felt countless sticky insects hidden within these plants, making his skin crawl.

For a forest, the Greenwoods was unnervingly quiet.

No bear roars, wolf howls, bird calls, or insect sounds, and even the rustling of leaves in the wind was barely audible. In contrast, the sound of their footsteps on the soft layer of fallen leaves was especially conspicuous here, so much so that even the little tin soldier instinctively kept its mouth shut.

In this extreme quiet, Dwight almost felt an illusion: the silence was just a façade of this vast forest, as if the trees were whispering to each other about these unwelcome guests, something enormous slept beneath their feet, and the occasional breeze hinted at its breathing—even the scattered sunlight through the leaves had a strange rhythm.

Charlie seemed to sense something, turning his head to give the young Duke an amused look.

His handsome face was once again hidden under his cloak’s hood, his sharp jawline somewhat aloof.

Despite rumors, Charlie didn’t see any resemblance between the Duke and an angel; fine features didn’t soften his sharp, sword-like demeanor, as if ready to burst from its scabbard at any moment.

But just when Charlie thought he was merely a cold, hard crystal sculpture, the Duke exhibited a perception usually only seen in creatures like elves.

It was quite intriguing.

The towering trees made it impossible to discern directions, and Dwight noticed that his compass had long since stopped functioning. Under these circumstances, he had every reason to doubt whether the rabbit actually knew the way.

Though rabbits were typically denizens of the forest, heaven knows how much of their instincts they retained.

“I assure you, we are close,” Charlie said softly.

“We passed a place just like this half an hour ago,” Dwight responded coldly.

If it weren’t for his regular physical training, a typical noble would have collapsed long ago from the effort required in the mine.

“Just a bit further ahead… shh,” Charlie’s long ears twitched alertly, stopping in his tracks.

Dwight and the little tin soldier also stopped.

Silence ensued, with no sound whatsoever.

Dwight, growing impatient, furrowed his brow about to speak, but Charlie quickly placed a hand on his shoulder to silence him.

He reflexively stepped back, but Charlie pointed forward before him.

Out of nowhere, a faint mist had begun to fill the forest, and through the white vapor, the figure of a graceful creature flitted by.

Dwight’s pupils dilated slightly.

His eyesight was excellent, and even from a distance, he saw clearly.

It was a stunningly beautiful white doe. If it appeared anywhere outside of Greenwoods, it would ignite a hunting frenzy among the continent’s nobility.

Only when the mist dissipated did Charlie lower his hand.

“That is the Heart of the Greenwoods,” Charlie took the initiative to explain. “Humans also call her the Forest Goddess—sometimes she takes the form of a fairy, sometimes a bird, but most often, she appears as a doe. Kurt has her permission to live here. Not too deep, far from the Heart of the Greenwoods, but it’s enough to keep away from humans and other creatures…”

They rounded a few lush beech trees, and a vast swampy area in the forest appeared before them.

A bark boat quietly sat at the edge of the swamp.

The little tin soldier at the bow relit its lamp, but the small circle of light couldn’t penetrate the damp mist. Dwight could barely make out a large shadow through the sparse tree trunks not far ahead.

The swamp had no waves, yet the small boat automatically drifted towards the shadow. Dwight’s face remained expressionless, but under his cloak, his hand quietly gripped the cane he never parted with.

Only when they got close enough did he realize the shadow was an astonishingly large old tree with a treehouse awkwardly perched upon it. Seeming to know guests had arrived, a trapdoor on the treehouse’s viewing deck creaked open, and a flimsy rope ladder was let down.

The Duke, who had been pampered since childhood, felt that in the short span of a day, he had been forced to engage in every demeaning activity possible: walking for a long time, scurrying around in the cave like a rat, and climbing this damn rope ladder.

He had never been so embarrassed in his life, and even the presence of the famous Astrologer Kurt, whom countless people dreamed of meeting, couldn’t quell his irritation.

This renowned astrologer appeared quite young. His complexion was pale from a lack of sunlight, was of medium stature and somewhat frail. His neatly buttoned shirt gave him the air of a mathematics teacher from some rural villa.

But Kurt was delighted. Strictly speaking, from the moment he saw Dwight, the exaggerated smile on his face never waned.

“My old friend!” He exaggeratedly embraced Charlie and quickly assessed the situation. Knowing that the handsome Duke was unlikely to engage in any physical contact, he still led them into the living room with a smile on his face.

Yes, this seemingly rickety treehouse not only had a living room but also a warm, steaming fireplace.

Even by the standards of the Empire’s most discerning nobles, this treehouse couldn’t be considered uncomfortable. The walls were smooth, adorned with exquisite wallpaper that showed no signs of mold from the damp environment. A soft carpet lay underfoot, many delicate handcrafted books were scattered on the floor, and the wall cabinet was filled with gleaming, gem-encrusted silverware. The table by the fireplace was covered with damask, loaded with ham, wine, and canapes.

“I must say, receiving your letter gave me quite a fright,” Kurt said warmly. “I thought I wouldn’t see you until next summer, at the earliest. It gets too quiet here. It’s nice to get a greeting once in a while… though Alpha isn’t too happy about delivering messages in winter.”

“It was sudden,” Charlie said, taking Dwight’s cloak off him and hanging it on a low table before unbuttoning his coat and sitting down. “The journey was quite tough, with the snow still falling.”

“I understand.” Kurt’s gaze shifted to Dwight. “Charlie mentioned some things in his letter… Ah, the matters you wanted to know about.”

Dwight nodded reservedly.

Kurt pulled out a roll of paper from the drawer of a low table, spreading it out. It was covered with complex star charts and trajectories.

Dwight sat opposite him, watching as he finally stopped smiling and began sketching on the rough paper, occasionally asking him questions in a low voice without looking up.

Charlie also sat to one side, casually pouring himself a glass of wine, seemingly familiar with this scene.

Honestly, Dwight had expected the astrologer to be—more mysterious. No one had ever systematically explained astrology, and few had seen its process firsthand. He had imagined that the other might wear a white robe, ignite some mysterious herbs under the midnight stars, chant spells, or at least manipulate some arcane instruments that no one else could understand.

At least not like now, sitting so ordinarily in a room, calculating on rough paper.

But Kurt was quite focused, and Dwight, watching the paper under his hands for a while, realized that the formulas and symbols used were unheard of.

It was almost like a civilization from another world.

After some time, Kurt finally put down his pen.

Dwight, who had been sitting upright, shifted slightly.

Kurt turned the paper towards his guest.

“The moon has moved away from its proper position, Miss… Mrs. Priscilla is surrounded by malevolent stars. Her spirit is weakening; her body can hardly support her thoughts anymore.”

Dwight said nothing as Kurt’s pen paused on the side. “She faces choices, but each step makes her situation more difficult, isolated and unsupported. However, when the moon returns, she will have another chance at rebirth.”

The astrologer leaned back in his chair. “Your sister is in great danger now.”

“Can the star chart tell you why her husband hasn’t protected her?” Dwight asked coldly.

“The stars can’t detail every aspect. I can only tell you that there are two extremely dangerous people around her.” Kurt now looked nothing like a staid country teacher. “These two people will have an irreversible impact on her, including her life. Mrs. Priscilla, having married far away, I can only make the closest guesses based on hints from the constellations.”

Dwight’s already unemotional eyes grew colder.

A woman far from home and family, married off to a distant place—besides her husband, who else could be by her side?

He was the only family she had left.

Charlie didn’t stay in the warm indoors. He and Kurt left the living room, considerately leaving the Duke alone.

He leaned against the railing of the viewing platform, holding an elegant, long smoking pipe, and exhaled a flippant ring of smoke.

“The contract lasts until this spring,” Charlie noted. “Once the snow melts, the Greenwoods’ protection will fade.”

“Thank you for reminding me.” Kurt sighed. “Time flies, doesn’t it? I still remember the afternoon I pushed open the doors to your shop, as if it was just yesterday.”

“Yes.” Charlie also smiled, his age-worn smile oddly out of place on a fluffy rabbit face. “Staggering in, dragging a large suitcase, not a silver coin on you, yet you asked for the most demanding hiding place.”

“And starving.” Kurt spread his hands. “I ate all your apple pies in one go.”

“If you want, you can stay on,” Charlie suddenly said. “Apart from me, no one can find the dwarf’s entrance.”

What Charlie left unsaid was that even if the mine were exposed, creatures not accepted by the Heart of the Greenwoods would find it nearly impossible to navigate this forest wilderness. Even if they made another deal right now, he probably couldn’t offer a safer place than this.

“It’s alright,” Kurt said softly. “I can observe the continent through the stars. ‘They’ can also find me through the stars. There’s no absolutely safe place for me.”

The astrologer looked up at the rabbit smoking contentedly, his gentle eyes showing a hint of concern. “The same goes for you.”

Charlie put down his smoking pipe, but before he could respond, the door to the viewing platform was opened from the inside.

The young Duke stood upright.

“I should go,” he said.

---

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

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

---

Chapter 4

That annoying little tin soldier and its owner were as oblivious to the awkward atmosphere as each other. No matter how grimly the handsome Duke remained silent throughout the journey, the two treated the winter travel as if it were a picnic in early spring.

If it weren’t for the horses pulling the cart, ‘Araceae’ and ‘Midnight’, who only obeyed Dwight’s orders, they probably would have wanted to stop and rest in the cold woods—the rabbit even brought a melodica!

“Don’t be so tense,” Charlie said. “We’ll arrive before dark.”

“It seems that the famous astrologer is still your neighbor,” Dwight said grimly.

“Not really,” Charlie replied, taking out a beautiful glass jar from his suitcase, filled with vibrant red jam.

“I just know a shortcut,” he said while deftly spreading the jam on white bread with elegant strokes. “He lives in the Greenwoods.”

Dwight raised his eyebrows, surprised that the other was so nonchalant about disclosing the astrologer’s hideout.

Charlie seemed to know what he was thinking and winked at him. “No one but me can easily reach Kurt there, even if the address is down to his porch steps.”

Dwight stared at him unapologetically.

He noticed that, although Charlie had a rabbit’s head, the rest of him was unexpectedly pleasing to the eye. Despite often speaking in a way that made one want to lock him in a dungeon, his manners were quite proper. His shoulders were straight, and his posture was upright. His legs were sufficiently long, and he looked every inch the gentleman when he neatly tucked his shirt and donned his coat.

Just a bit thin.

Dwight, often praised for being “as slender as an angel”, thought without effort.

“Why?” His mood improved slightly. He had a rare moment of appreciation for the smug rabbit sitting across from him.

“Because he lives in the Greenwoods,” Charlie said cheerfully.

“So what?” Dwight asked casually, then realized.

The Greenwoods.

It was just a nickname; in fact, that vast forest had no official name because even elves dared not enter.

People often got lost on the edges of the forest, leaving their bones there forever. No one knew the way in, or perhaps it didn’t exist at all.

At least for the past hundred years, ten miles around the Greenwoods had been uninhabited.

Astrologer Kurt lives there?

For the first time, a look of confusion appeared on the young Duke’s face. “How did he get in?”

Charlie put the last bite of bread in his mouth. “I took him in.”

Dwight straightened slightly.

“Now you will take me in. The secret will soon be no secret.”

“Right, ‘I’ll take you’ in.” The shopkeeper shrugged easily.

“Many people want to know the astrologer’s whereabouts,” Dwight hinted.

“But none have succeeded,” Charlie said. “Kurt doesn’t stay in one place for long, and I happen to know he’s packing his bags. We might still catch him before he leaves.”

As if responding to his words, the carriage began to slow down.

“Charlie! Charlie!” The little tin soldier stood on the seat cushion. “The woods ahead are too dense!”

The Duke’s luxurious carriage was no match for the thorns.

“It’s okay.” Charlie snapped his suitcase shut. “Next, we walk.”

He agilely jumped from the carriage and turned to offer a hand.

Dwight gave him a cold look and tapped his cane on the door frame.

With a clicking sound, a footstool unfolded automatically.

Charlie: “……”

Utterly extravagant.

The carriage had only made it to the edge of the Greenwoods. They were still a distance from the sea of trees. High rocks crowded together, forming a natural barrier covered in greasy moss and winter snow—unless one had wings, they couldn’t even dream of climbing over.

Dwight wrapped his fur cloak tighter, his huge hat nearly covering his eyes, with only his slightly red, upturned nose visible under the shadow of his light golden hair and eyelashes.

Charlie wore no cloak but a dashing long coat, his high boots creaking sourly in the snow.

The tin soldier followed in Charlie’s footsteps, occasionally looking back at him.

Dwight looked down at him haughtily, remaining silent.

“Charlie!” The tin soldier’s voice was a bit muffled in the snow. “My joints are going to freeze!”

“Wait a bit. I’m sure those guys left some oil down there,” the shopkeeper said soothingly.

“If you plan to walk around these stone forests,” Dwight said, his breath forming a white cloud, “you’d better clarify that sooner.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Charlie stopped.

He stood before a tall stone, thinly covered with snow.

Dwight stopped and watched the rabbit bend down, searching for something. After a while, the ground beneath him trembled slightly, accompanied by dull clanging sounds.

When the trembling completely stopped, the boulder clumsily shifted aside, revealing a hole from which warm steam eagerly escaped.

Charlie turned to Dwight and gestured for him to enter.

The tin soldier had already jumped in.

“What is this place?” Dwight asked, removing his cloak hat as he walked down the stone steps, surveying the clearly man-made space.

“An abandoned dwarven mine,” Charlie replied, his voice sounding somewhat muffled underground.

The tin soldier’s hat seemed to have been transformed into a lantern, walking ahead in small steps, lighting their path just enough.

“This mine is large; it has been mined for at least two hundred years,” Charlie said. “At its peak, a third of the empire’s gems came from here.”

Dwight could tell, even without him saying so. Dwarves weren’t tall, and ordinary mines would never have this spacious scale.

“The temperature is off,” Dwight noted. “What’s below?”

The cave was indeed warmer than above ground, but the temperature here was unusually comfortable.

Charlie seemed surprised.

The Duke, who was reputed to always stay within the walls of Brandenburg, was surprisingly perceptive.

“Ground fire,” Charlie explained without evasion. “This was originally just a mine. The deeper you go, the richer the deposits, and they even uncovered ground fire here. Two hundred years ago, several dwarf clans gathered here: the Fugmiller dwarfs mined in the east, the Hedomar dwarfs smelted in the west, and the Mayking dwarfs transported the wealth far and wide.”

These diligent dwarfs, like a tireless swarm of ants, spent centuries building this vast underground world with its complex interlocking mine shafts, public halls built upon the caves, and smelting plants. Dwight even spotted a rundown stone bar at a distant intersection.

The wind blowing from beneath the earth carried a warm breath, mingling with the rugged laughter of dwarfs from a century ago, the lively sounds of melodicas, and the ceaseless hammering which seemed to still linger in the wind, but soon vanished without a trace.

“Dwarfs wouldn’t easily abandon their wealth,” Dwight suddenly said. “What happened?”

The scale of the mine was unexpectedly large, but he estimated the depth and felt that the mine’s potential value was far from fully realized.

Walking behind him, Charlie paused momentarily before hastening his steps without being noticed by those ahead.

“They went too far,” Charlie said nonchalantly. “After the shallow surface gems were exhausted, they expanded the mine deeper where the wealth was greater, but the price paid was also higher. The ‘Queen of Fire’ was the last gem they brought out of the mine.”

Dwight’s eyes flickered.

There were no nobles that weren’t unaware of the ‘Queen of Fire’, the largest and most beautifully shaped ruby in existence, which ninety years ago had been set in the famously beautiful Queen Natty’s crown but was soon lost along with the crown itself. Dwight had only seen that legendary gem in portraits of Queen Natty.

Before that, it was precisely during the second boom period of luxury jewelry trading following the Age of Navigation that many historically famous, stunningly beautiful jewels emerged.

“After the ‘Queen of Fire’, the dwarfs closed this mine,” Charlie whispered. “The entrance and the maps were treated as the highest secret. But there were always stubborn dwarfs who couldn’t resist the temptation and sneaked in alone, never to return. The dwarfs believed this was nature’s punishment for two hundred years of mining, so they simply moved away and never came back.”

“What happened before the ‘Queen of Fire’?” Dwight asked.

Something extremely threatening must have occurred to stop them from reaching for such immense wealth.

“No one knows,” Charlie said. “According to the dwarfs, the treasures deep in the mine belong to the Greenwoods. If anyone dares to take even a single gem, they will become lost in this vast mine until they turn to bones.”

Dwight slightly turned his head, glancing at the rabbit shopkeeper behind him.

Lost…

Indeed, the various vast underground spaces and mine shafts interlocking here resembled a massive labyrinth.

Seeing that the young Duke wasn’t deceived, Charlie shrugged. “The dwarfs’ legends are more of a reminder than a scare. The shallow layers of the mine have been exhausted, but I think just passing through shouldn’t pose a problem.”

“Exiting here leads to the Greenwoods,” Dwight stated affirmatively.

“Uh-huh.”

“How did you discover the dwarfs’ entrance?”

“Trade secret, no disclosures.”

At this point, Dwight’s view of Charlie finally shifted.

If initially he thought Charlie was just a rambling, nonsense-spouting rabbit, now, this rabbit had finally shown him a hint of something interesting.

…But still highly suspicious.

The reserved Duke didn’t continue to inquire; he noticed that the noisy tin soldier seemed incapable of multitasking. Once it took on the role of a streetlight, its mouth didn’t open again.

Thus, the group silently traversed the gloomy mine shafts. When his pocket watch had gone just over a full rotation, the tin soldier finally stopped.

Charlie stepped forward, fiddling with something behind Dwight’s back, and the light on the tin soldier’s head went out.

It came alive again.

“Charlie! We’ve arrived!”

Charlie reassuringly patted the tin soldier, bent down, and pulled open what looked like an extremely heavy door—it seemed that no one had moved it in a hundred years, and rust impaired its operation, so Charlie only managed to half-open it before it got stuck.

Dwight stooped and walked out.

---

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

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

---

Chapter 3

Shivers had to use considerable willpower to restrain himself from drawing his sword on the arrogant rabbit, but the Duke showed a maturity beyond his years at that moment.

No one expected the young Duke, who always held his chin high, to suddenly stand up and perform a standard noble bow, softly asking Charlie to accept his commission.

This, instead, was somewhat disappointing to Charlie, who had hoped to see the other’s usual expressionless pale face turn red with anger—he had just whimsically wanted to tease him, given his imperious demeanor from the start.

It felt like bullying a child.

But the party concerned didn’t carry such a heavy psychological burden.

Recalling the incident later, Dwight calmly stated that asking for help didn’t make him feel ashamed—in fact, he said that if there were enough benefits in exchange, he wouldn’t mind even dancing a striptease in a skirt.

Astrology was one of the world’s most mysterious arts because the vast majority of people couldn’t discern what the stars hanging in the sky each day truly signified, let alone predict the future from them.

When astrology was monopolized by a handful of astrologers, there were those who attempted to decode their secrets over the centuries, drawing inspiration from the patterns of the nebulae and the positions of the moon, but no one ever succeeded. Astrology was a truly divinely bestowed ministry.

It couldn’t be learned, taught, or faked—from ancient times to the present, the prophecies of astrologers had never failed.

And the rare astrologers clearly weren’t sufficient to meet the predictive needs of the entire continent, so they all had their own ways of living in seclusion.

But the confident rabbit shopkeeper assured the Duke that it would only take three days to contact the legendary astrologer, and he warmly invited him and his knights to stay at his shop.

This time, without Dwight needing to speak, Shivers firmly declined the invitation.

If it weren’t for Miss Priscilla, he would have thrown down his glove at the audacious rabbit long ago.

Thus, when the news spread that the young and handsome noble Duke had come to Maplewood, the sheriff’s wife also received the infuriating news—the Duke was indeed staying at Mona’s inn!

She was the richest and most influential woman in Maplewood, and the only person who had ever made her taste defeat was the beautiful Mona, for no amount of fancy skirts and jewelry could attract a man’s gaze as much as a charming face.

That filthy little inn had actually invited the Duke, and that woman Mona must be seizing the opportunity to flaunt herself and rise to prominence.

The sheriff’s wife felt that if the duke took Mona back to the luxurious Brandenburg when his journey ended, she would surely have a heart attack.

She wasn’t the only one with such thoughts.

Thus, nearly half the town rushed to the Treehole Inn, hoping to catch a glimpse of the famous Duke Dwight and see if Mona had indeed become his mistress.

Regrettably, the doors of the Treehole Inn were tightly closed.

Even the travelers who had been staying at the inn for the winter had been asked to leave, but clearly, the Duke had compensated them well enough to find another cozy bar to exchange their handfuls of gold coins for beer.

In fact, Innkeeper Mona was also quite frustrated.

If it weren’t for her pleading with the Knight Commander, she would have nowhere to go if she left the Treehole Inn, and perhaps she too would have been sent elsewhere. As for the Duke clearing the place upon his arrival, she hadn’t even seen what the distinguished guest looked like.

So when the sheriff’s wife loudly demanded that Mona step aside, “Don’t obstruct her from arranging this filthy inn’s living room for the Duke. At least lay some carpets to avoid soiling His Lordship’s boots,” Mona also exploded.

You should know, not to mention Mona, the sheriff’s wife was hardly a proper noblewoman herself. Perhaps she had spent a lot of money to hire tutors for her two daughters, but once angered, she wouldn’t hesitate to roll up her sleeves and take off her earrings for a fight—a real lady would never do such a thing.

Dwight could hardly believe that mature women could scream and shove each other in public, with disheveled hair and jewelry clinking to the ground. If his eyes weren’t deceiving him, the two were already starting to tear each other’s dresses!

My gods above, Priscilla had never spoken in such a piercing tone in her life, and any woman appearing in Brandenburg, even just a laundry maid, would have her demeanor specially trained by a lady-in-waiting.

“Excuse me, Shivers,” he said sarcastically from the second-floor corridor to his knight commander, “could you please ask that lady—”

He paused for a moment.

“‘Agate on a silver cup, a midsummer night’s dream’. Can you calm them down a bit? Their screaming is giving me a headache.”

Shivers was at a loss for words, and although he was brave and skilled in battle, no one had ever taught him how to calm two frantic ladies down.

In fact, he wasn’t the only man present lacking such confidence. The sheriff himself stood uncomfortably to the side, trying to intervene but utterly unable to get a word in.

The sheriff’s wife even managed to loudly warn him ‘not to try to touch that bitch’ while the innkeeper, seemingly completely crazed, screamed curses at her, calling her a jennet waiting to be slaughtered.

“Good heavens, what’s going on here?”

A calm voice abruptly cut through the two women’s curses.

Mona was the first to recover, looking towards the door.

A man stood at the entrance, backlit and indistinct— but it didn’t matter. Just seeing those two ears was enough to know who it was.

Yes, unless this town had another furry-faced, self-satisfied freak. Dwight looked down from above at the fuzzy head and thought this condescendingly.

The two women stopped their movements.

“Charlie.” Mona adjusted her hair somewhat uncomfortably. “Oh!”

Her fingertips brushed past her earlobe, where the earrings had scratched and drawn blood.

“Don’t move,” Charlie said softly, tilting her chin to look at her ear for a moment.

“I request you return to your room and let Tracy help you with your ear, okay?” The rabbit shopkeeper’s tone was still unhurried but had a soothing power. “Scars don’t suit you.”

Mona lifted her skirt, not even glancing at the sheriff’s wife, and walked away proudly with her chin raised.

The sheriff’s wife bristled, but then saw Charlie magically pull a half-bloomed dahlia from his coat and politely asked if he could pin it to her hair.

The conflict ended in a peculiar way, with the sheriff’s wife even leaving with a smile.

The Duke and knights, who had witnessed everything from the second floor, found it unbelievable.

“Tell me,” Dwight said.

“Tell what?” The rabbit-headed shopkeeper approached the Duke’s temporary room, surprised to find many items clearly not belonging to the Treehole Inn.

The four-poster bed was brand new, and on the matching bedside table was a set of sparkling, immaculate tea set that looked more like a work of art than household items.

“You wouldn’t want to know how much it costs to replace that crystal cup. Put it down,” Dwight said lazily as he reclined in the high-backed chair.

Charlie reluctantly withdrew his hand.

“How did you manage to say to her, ‘A beautiful woman is more fragile than a flower, and to lose even a single petal would break one’s heart’?” Dwight said bluntly. “If the sheriff wasn’t standing there, I would have thought she was the butcher’s wife.”

“Though compared to the sheriff, that profession would obviously be a better fit for that fatso,” he added.

Charlie shrugged. “Women are inherently more delicate and vulnerable than men. What’s wrong with what I said?”

Dwight thought to himself that there was a big problem, suspecting both Charlie’s vision and his sense of beauty were abnormal.

However, the Duke didn’t want to expend too much energy on those two eye-opening women. The rabbit’s presence here only meant one thing.

“Let’s leave today. Now that the heavy snow has just stopped,” Charlie said.

Shivers only then noticed a carry-on bag by his feet.

“I’ll arrange it right away,” said the Knight Commander.

“No.” Charlie turned to him. “You can stay here and wait for us to return.”

Shivers was momentarily stunned before realizing that Charlie’s “us” didn’t include himself.

“The Duke can never go anywhere alone!” Shivers immediately protested.

“How could it be alone?” Charlie asked, puzzled. “I’m going too.”

Dwight frowned slightly.

“It’s not the same.” Shivers pressed down his anger. “The Duke is of nobility and must travel with proper arrangements. Our departure is already hasty enough. We cannot further reduce our manpower. Not just me. All the knights must accompany him.”

“My Lord, Kurt being a reclusive astrologer isn’t without reason. Do you think he’d be happy if I brought a whole troop of knights marching to raid his lair?” Charlie said.

Moreover, he really couldn’t see anything ‘hasty’ about their appearance this time. The small town inn’s room had completely changed its look—even the curtains had been replaced with velvet bearing noble crests. Heaven knows how they managed that!

The forthright Knight Commander bluntly stated, “Even if what you say about Astrologer Kurt is true, you can’t guarantee my Master’s safety and comfort on the road.”

Charlie blinked. “Comfort aside, what’s unsafe about stepping out? Even wolves won’t come out in this weather.”

“Alright, Shivers.” Dwight enjoyed the confrontation between the Knight Commander and the rabbit-headed shopkeeper for a while before speaking up. “There won’t be any danger. You all wait here for me.”

“My Lord!” Shivers turned back. “We still can’t fully trust him!”

“If he’s a fraud, we’ll chop off his head and hang it on the tower,” Dwight said coldly. “I hope you’re not questioning my ability.”

Shivers glared, and for a moment, Charlie thought the handsome knight was about to decide to draw his sword and fight him to the death.

But he didn’t.

“But someone still needs to drive the carriage,” Shivers said.

He and Dwight both looked at Charlie.

Charlie’s long ears twitched slightly, then—

“No. My Lord, if we bring one more person, I guarantee no one will even touch the hem of Kurt’s robe.”

The corners of Shiver’s mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. “Then you might need to wear warmer clothes.”

Riding or driving a carriage in this weather was no easy task, especially since he didn’t believe that the slender yet lean peculiar shopkeeper could physically match the well-trained knights.

“Ah, no, no, no.” Charlie’s ears perked up. “I have a more suitable candidate.”

Shivers stared at him. “You said we can’t bring another person—”

“Correct,” Charlie said decisively. “No more, but I can take care of the carriage issue. Please don’t worry.”

Half an hour later.

A luxuriously unreasonable carriage for a long journey stopped in front of the Treehole Inn, with curious children from the houses nearby straining at their windows to get a clearer view.

“Tom! Tom! Do you think those carriage windows are made of gold? Pure gold?”

“Did you see that crest? It’s shinier than mom’s earrings! Tony!”

Several tall knights stood at the door, looking at Charlie with unfriendly gazes.

Unaware, Charlie elegantly opened the carriage door for the Duke, then got in himself.

In the front of the carriage, a little tin soldier sat cheerfully on the seat, its bottom cushioned by a plump cushion.

“Ready?” it called out spiritedly. “Say goodbye loudly! We’ll be back soon!”

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