Chapter 1326: Chapter 1326: Demon Curse
“Oh, you actually beat him?”
The old curator wasn’t curious about the strange profession of ‘Demonologist’, but was instead very surprised by what Shard had said:
“That’s impossible, Ston Osenfort can also lose?”
“But I really did win, and that’s why I got into a lot of trouble afterward until I ca here seeking help. Mrs. Haila Osenfort wasn’t willing to say much to , but it seems you know sothing?”
Mr. Fernandez swallowed and looked once more at the Holy Emblem of the True God [Lantern Bearer], as if it could give him strength.
Of course, it truly could give him strength, for this True God indeed exists and constantly influences the material world. Even when discussing demons under the Holy Emblem, there’s no need to worry about being detected by the other party.
“Young man, would you like to hear my story?”
He suddenly asked.
“Of course.”
Shard nodded imdiately; he had co today to listen to a story.
“It wasn’t too long ago, about two years ago, in the winter of 1851. At that ti, Ston Osenfort and Haila Osenfort had just gotten married for not too long, and I was already the curator of this exhibition hall then.”
Their marriage happened two years ago, but the specific ti of the wedding was sothing Shard learned for the first ti.
“I can’t forget what I did back then, always hoping ti could turn back, allowing the present
to stop the past … I learned from acquaintances that Ston Osenfort possessed a very precious antique stone sculpture. It was a full-body statue, the work had been unsealed from the stone by a well-known sculptor from Randall Valley about 200 years ago.”
The old curator’s face showed a sorrowful expression, and Shard understood what he had done:
“You visited the Osenfort Mansion?”
“Yes, I wrote to Osenfort hoping to purchase that statue, but he ignored my letters. I thought my sincerity wasn’t enough, even though Osenfort’s business back then wasn’t as good as it is now, he was still a well-known rchant in the Randall Valley. So I brought gifts, scheduled a visit in advance, and on a snowy day like today, took a carriage to the Osenfort Mansion… That place is really remote.”
Shard imagined the scene two years ago, the carriage carrying the elderly man, passing through the snowflakes and arriving at the gates of the Osenfort Estate:
“What happened next?”
Fear once again spread across the old man’s face, he closed his eyes and prayed again, before mustering the courage to continue his story:
“I saw Osenfort in the estate, and also t his so-called friends. Oh, God, I thought I had stumbled into a bandit’s den. They gathered around , laughing, and took
to the guest room on the second floor. Osenfort was sitting in the guest room, a bottle of wine by his side, not really drunk but definitely not very sober either. I knew I might have picked the wrong day; he was in a really bad mood that day.”
The old man recounted the day he could never forget:
“Although I felt sothing was off, since I was already there, I still expressed my request to purchase that statue. But Ston Osenfort didn’t pay attention to , randomly cursing under his breath, seemingly not caring about .”
“What did he curse about?”
“I just wished I were deaf at the ti, but unfortunately, I’ve always had good hearing. He mumbled a few words in ancient languages and then started cursing… demons. He used so very vulgar Randall Valley slang, along with so sailor vocabulary.”
Shard knew Osenfort once worked as a sailor.
“Civilized people wouldn’t use such language; he seed less like a rchant, more like a highway robber. Although I still wanted the statue, I knew staying longer might endanger my safety, so I decided to leave.”
The old curator Mr. Fernandez shuddered violently.
“He wouldn’t let you leave?”
“He gripped the wine bottle, holding my hand, and took
to his sculpting workshop on the second floor where I also saw the statue I wanted.”
Shard had also been to that workshop.
“In the center of the room was his own creation. He asked
to comnt on his work, and then, right in front of , smashed the nearly completed, slender woman sculpture. I can’t describe in words what happened next; after the sculpture was shattered, it seed as if the entire house trembled. At first, I thought it was an earthquake, but then I felt an overpowering dizziness, and eerie, indescribable illusions appeared before my eyes. Oh, those visions still haunt my nightmares. I saw so many deceased people wailing, heard eerie cries seemingly from the world of the dead…”
The old man clutched his forehead as if feeling faint. Shard then handed him a small glass bottle filled with a transparent, colorless liquid, which Mr. Fernandez drank, feeling significantly better instantly.
That is, after all, Holy Water No. 4.
“Look, as a Demonologist, I do have so skills, otherwise I wouldn’t have found my way here.”
Shard said with a smile, allowing the old man to continue his story:
“Back then, the discomfort and the soul-shattering pain nearly made
beg Osenfort to smash my head with the hamr he used to break the statue. But he just laughed heartily, and the strange visions I saw continued to multiply: black stone roses, illogical patches of color, and twisted, dancing transparent figures.”
He clenched the empty bottle, his knuckles turning white:
“If not for your appearance today, I would never have told anyone about this in my life. I gradually descended into madness, yes, I rember clearly that I was heading towards complete breakdown. If not for my experience as a Folklore Scholar in my youth, having seen so horrifying things, and vaguely understanding that the world is not as simple as most people think, you probably wouldn’t have seen
alive today.”
Shard showed an expression of admiration, as Mr. Fernandez managed to maintain his sanity under such circumstances two years ago, proving how resilient his will was.
“I struggled to escape that house, but Osenfort blocked my path, shoved a carving knife into my hand, and laughed as he urged
to kill him with it. Though I still retained my sanity at that ti, I was already unable to comprehend what was happening before my eyes.”
“Did you actually stab him?”
Shard asked curiously, and the old man shivered and shook his head:
“No, I used to be a scholar, and now I’m the curator of the Statue Hall, and neither role allows my hands to be stained with blood. I discarded the knife, clutched my head, and collapsed against the wall in anguish, while Osenfort beca angry.”
The old man gasped, his face pale:
“But fortunately, his wife appeared at that mont and stopped Ston Osenfort, telling
to leave quickly…I can’t even rember how I managed to flee the estate in such a sorry state. After returning to the city, I fell seriously ill, bedridden for a long ti, until the end of the spring of 1852, when I could barely get out of bed and walk normally.”
“During this period, did Osenfort co looking for you?”
“No.”
“Then did you not seek help at the local church? You should have known how extraordinary your experiences were.”
Mr. Fernandez shook his head again:
“I was too sick at the ti, unable to speak for the first few weeks. Once I regained my ability to move, forgive , I’m not trying to express my fragility, but I…I didn’t dare go to the church. I have seen the most terrifying things, witnessed the most incomprehensible scenes. I just wanted to forget it all, to completely forget, to sever any ties with him.”
“But it seems you didn’t succeed.”
“Yes, in the sumr of 1852, driven by curiosity, I wanted to investigate the few ancient words Osenfort yelled when he cursed the demon. I was truly foolish then, doing nothing and just treating it as a nightmare would have kept
from turning into this…I actually found out so things, yes, I can’t even believe myself, I managed to investigate such horrifying truths based solely on a few sounds. And that’s when soone visited …”
“Osenfort?”
“Yes, but also no.”
Shard raised an eyebrow in suspicion, while Mia stood on Shard’s shoulder watching around. With the presence of this cat, Mr. Fernandez’s “horror story” seed not scary at all. The cat had a magical ability, every ti Shard saw it, he felt comfortable.
“On a rainy sumr evening, the thing that visited
with a black umbrella did indeed appear like Ston Osenfort, but I knew it definitely wasn’t him. It looked completely identical to Ston Osenfort…perhaps the skin was slightly darker, and the eyes were entirely black. Yes, no white.
The old curator bowed his head to pray again, while Shard patiently waited.
“He took all my research materials and praised
for being a very talented person, but he said I knew too much, and I shouldn’t get involved in his studies. He didn’t kill , but he placed a curse on
instead.”
“What curse?”
“I must be constantly watched by four different stone statues, always. If this condition is not t, my lifespan will decrease at four tis the normal rate.”
The old man spoke softly:
“This is no joke, look at my aged appearance, partly due to that illness, partly due to the tornt of nightmares, but mostly because of this curse. It doesn’t directly kill , but it grinds away the remaining value of my life. I cannot leave this Statue Exhibition Hall, I’m imprisoned here by these sculptures. I think, I probably won’t survive until next winter.”
He coughed a few tis, and Shard blinked in surprise. When he shook hands with the old curator, he sensed a strong curse upon him, but hadn’t anticipated it would be in this form.
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