Dark Fantasy: Magical Eye Knight – Chapter 186

Chapter 186: Crossroads (8)

 

Russell entered the alleyway, guided by Calia’s crow, a creature that had appeared from his shadow, heading to the Springtime Foal Inn.

 

The alleyway alternated between narrowing and widening, twisting and turning, confounding everyone who passed by. Anyone with a weak sense of direction would rapidly become disoriented, yet Russell navigated the backstreets as simply as he had arrived.

 

The masses that thronged the thoroughfares demonstrated that this was a large metropolis. As previously, there were an astounding number of individuals, with appearances and apparel as diverse as the hues of the rainbow.

 

There were those who strolled in groups, wearing long robes; some who had straw hats on their heads; a woman who moved rapidly, her face obscured by a deep hood and cloak; and a child who sprinted, carrying massive armor that appeared too large for him.

 

Russell strolled into this weird but familiar landscape.

 

His height meant he towered over the majority of the folks around him, and as a result, he had a better perspective on his surroundings than others.

 

The sun, having finished its brief ascension and beginning its quick descent, was no longer uncomfortable to gaze at directly.

 

The blinding sunshine had been engulfed by the clouds, and the sun, now burning crimson, projected a reddish glow over the city as it dropped to the northwest.

 

The orange-red light cascaded obliquely down the buildings, illuminating the clean, paved roadways and the people that traveled on them, forming lengthy shadows.

 

The people in the darkness avoided Russell as he passed. He went on, leaving behind shocked, wide-eyed, rebellious, and fearful expressions.

 

As the name implies, the Springtime Foal Inn had a sign that depicted a Springtime Foal. The enormous inn had five levels and used the entire ground and first floors as a pub and restaurant. All of the additional floors included guest rooms.

 

Russell opened the door and went in. The noise, which had been getting louder as he approached, abruptly increased when he opened the door.

 

As the afternoon drew to a close and a bitter wind blew, people arrived to warm up with booze and music. There were drunkards who spent the entire day drinking in one location, musicians tuning their instruments by plucking or strumming the strings, and servers cleaning down tables here and there.

 

Russell was able to locate his party shortly. Calia and Aellasis were sitting at a table next to the bar.

 

Aellasis was sleeping, her head resting on Calia’s shoulder, while Calia sat with her back to the door, stroking Aellasis’ head.

 

Calia looked up when she felt someone approaching and saw Russell.

 

She seemed to be preparing to make a welcoming gesture. Calia’s countenance quickly changed to amazement, her eyes widening as she inspected Russell from head to toe before sighing and saying,

 

“. . . . . .It doesn’t seem to have gone well.”

 

Russell and Weizen, as she had mentioned, were filthy and dusty, with ripped clothes. The dark bloodstains on their cheeks, necks, wrists, and torsos indicated that they had been in combat.

 

Russell shrugged and sat down.

 

“That sounds about right. How’s Aella?”

 

“As you can see, she drank a lot of alcohol, became drunk, and went to sleep. It was quite strong.”

 

Three or four little glass mugs were set in front of Aellasis. The hollowed-out cups held a clear liquid that shimmered red or blue, like a cocktail.

 

“It seems like a big city. Mixing different kinds of drinks. . . it’s a method I couldn’t even imagine. That bartender over there has such incredible skills that she got hypnotized and drank everything.”

 

Calia nodded to a tall man in a tidy suit who was wiping a glass with a towel behind the bar. He appeared to be the manager of the tavern.

 

“What about dinner?”

 

“We ate first. You should eat, too. However, you should clean up first. Betty?”

 

“Oh, yes!”

 

A waiter dashed from somewhere. She was a lively-looking girl with a kerchief tightly wrapped around her head and sleeves pushed up to her elbows. As Betty approached, Calia spoke to Russell:

 

“Go wash up first. There is a well behind the inn. I will place an advance order for the food.”

 

Russell chose to take Calia’s advice. Even so, the bloodstains on his neck and chest began to annoy him. As he put Weizen, who he had been carrying on his shoulder, onto a chair, Betty, who had been waiting, took the initiative.

 

“Follow me.”

 

As they followed Betty, they noticed a well in the center of a little courtyard. A stable could be seen in one corner. Russell’s horse, Kry, and the party’s horses were sleeping indoors, under a thatched roof and enclosed by a timber fence. There were no other horses in sight.

 

“This is the well. The bucket hangs over there. By the way, are you a nobleman?”

 

“Why?”

 

“Aren’t you?”

 

“Why do you ask?”

 

Betty hesitated. It was clear that she was unsure whether or not to inform him. Betty, on the other hand, quickly bowed deeply before turning and running back.

 

Russell, who had been watching the little girl Betty flee, placed his coat on the wooden hook where the pail was hanging, then removed his shirt. The cloth shirt, tattered and filled with holes from the previous battle, had lost all of its utility as a garment.

 

He put the tattered shreds of fabric on the floor, then filled the bucket with well water and poured it over his head.

 

Russell removed a clean cloth shirt from his coat and put it on after repeatedly pouring cold water over his head to remove the dust and blood. Then he filled the bucket with water and returned to the dining area.

 

Calia was the only person in the dining room. Aellasis appeared to have gone to her room to sleep. Russell confirmed this with his magic detection before approaching the table where Calia and Weizen were sitting, holding the bucket.

 

Then he poured the water over Weizen’s head, who was still slumped in his chair and hardly conscious.

 

“Urgh! Ugh, cough. What the hell?!”

 

Weizen, who had gotten up in amazement, looked around twice. Russell struck Weizen in the back of the head and said,

 

“It’s water. Get up and get ready to eat.”

 

“Uh, huh?”

 

Betty came over with supper on a platter and walked fast. Weizen sat down in his chair, still puzzled.

 

“What? Did you win?”

 

“Eat your food.”

 

“Oh, yes.”

 

After finishing their late dinner, Weizen stated, licking his lips and sipping his beer:

 

“The guy with the bandages and the frightening mask was no pushover. Did you kill him completely?”

 

“He’s dead, but not really dead.”

 

“What kind of nonsense is that?”

 

“It was only a shell. He borrowed someone else’s body and used it as a messenger. He is neither alive nor dead. His actual body is probably somewhere else. He controls the puppet from there.”

 

“No, you’re saying that thing was a puppet. . .?”

 

Weizen was surprised to discover that he had been defeated by a puppet. Russell returned him to reality.

 

“I know he’s the type of person who eats hunting dogs. If he isn’t the type of guy to get his hands filthy, it implies there are plenty of people who are eager to do so for him. Do you know anyone like that?”

 

“Not really. I’m just a guy that takes on decent commissions, completes them, and gets paid. I mostly deliver people and things. I’m not very patient. Unlike my sister. . .”

 

Of course, assassination requires time rather than a sharp knife or a dark night. Russell nodded.

 

“I realized that a long time ago, so let’s go on. I would like to seek your sister’s assistance. As you know, I have no links in that world. You don’t appear to be well-connected either.”

 

Weizen made a grimace as if he wanted to open his mouth before sighing and saying:

 

“I’m going to meet the dumbest relative I know.”

 

“I’m certain she feels the same way about you. Does your sister do contract work?”

 

Weizen shrugged.

 

“It’s not a particularly promising job, but it’s a skill she possesses. I see. Do you want to meet my sister?”

 

“You have to find a guide to find a path.”

 

“Damn it. Alright, I got it.”

 

Just then, Calia, who had been quietly listening, pointed behind them.

 

“It seems that we won’t have to go looking for her.”

 

“What? Huh?”

 

Weizen, who had turned around with an inquisitive expression on his face, gasped. Standing there was a woman with facial traits close to Weizen’s but not identical. She had a slight smile on her face.

 

“You, son of a b*tch. . . You vanished without speaking, and now you’re crawling back. You didn’t say anything to me.”

 

“Oh, sh*t.”

 

Weizen attempted to flee, but was soon apprehended. The sound of a punch hitting the back of his head as he attempted to stand up, as well as the sound of a kick that threw him to the ground, were pretty pleasurable.

 

“Owwww. I am sorry, sister. But I had my reasons. . .”

 

“What reasons?”

 

The woman with her foot on Weizen’s back looked up. She took a close look at Russell and Calia, who were seated at a circular table, before stopping and nodding at Russell’s face.

 

“Pass.”

 

She then looked at Calia and shook her head.

 

“You fail.”

 

Calia grinned and inquired:

 

“I think I know, but why do I fail?”

 

“Because you are prettier than me. And that man is handsome.”

 

The woman, who was laughing maliciously, sat at the table without asking permission. However, she did not take her foot off Weizen’s back.

 

“I am Scilio. Who are you?”

 

“Russell.”

 

“Calia.”

 

“Are you nobles? You’re both quite attractive, so it’s almost certain. Of course, not all nobles are attractive.

 

“I’ve got a request for you. Will you accept it?”

 

Scilio stared at Russell, then smiled with just one corner of her mouth.

 

“Yes, you are stating you do not want to talk about it. I understand. What’s your request? I need to hear the information before passing judgment.”

 

“I heard from your brother that you seem to be doing contract work. Is that right?”

 

“More or less. I don’t get much work, but it’s a position that allows you to relax for at least three months after you receive it.”

 

“There are others who do the same thing as you. Do you know any of those people who look similar to the one I’m describing?”

 

Russell described the man he had battled, who was bandaged and wearing a human skin mask. Scilio listened to his explanation but remained silent, caressing her chin.

 

As the stillness stretched on, Weizen, who was being stepped on by her, groaned, but she ignored him.

 

“. . . . . .There can’t be two people who wear such a disguise.”

 

“It seems that you know something about it.”

 

“I have only heard rumors. I’ve never seen him personally.”

 

“Who is it?”

 

“Let me ask my question first. Why are you searching for that guy?”

 

Russell pointed at Weizen, who was lying at Scilio’s feet.

 

“Your brother’s request seems to be related to me, and I’m here to track down the person who made that request.”

 

“What an idiot.”

 

“Ouch!”

 

Scilio’s shoe struck Weizen in the head. Scilio clicked her tongue while seeing her brother roll around on the pub floor.

 

“His name is Livenbus. He is also known as the drug lord. That is because he grows and distributes drugs in this neighborhood. He’s also one of Count Jayvir’s primary sources of revenue.

 

“Does the Count himself cultivate drugs?”

 

“No. Naturally, cultivating drugs is illegal under imperial law. Except for those who cultivate it for alchemy or tower materials. But what is the current situation in the Empire?

 

Russell furrowed his brow.

 

“It’s in the midst of a civil war.”

 

“That’s correct. It had been more than a year since the emperor was poisoned. He is not yet dead, but it is difficult to establish if he is alive or not. In that case, the princesses and princes are battling all over the place to identify themselves as the true heirs. Of course, the administration is not running smoothly. Livenbus took advantage of the situation and approached the count. The count accepted him. A normal lord would not cultivate or distribute rubbish like drugs, but he is a nobility who is not thinking well.”

 

Russell considered for a moment before asking:

 

“Does Count Jayvir have any children?”

 

Scilio smiled faintly.

 

“It’s a good question.”

 

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