Chapter 1003: Chapter 55 Throwing a Stone to Ask the Way
[Early Morning]
[Steel Fortress, South Bank District, Rose Lake]
When Vashka brought Borso da Este’s servant to et Winters, Baron Granashi and his personal priest were practicing by the lake in the morning.
The so-called morning practice involved the priest unhappily throwing stones into the lake while the baron kept trying to shoot small pebbles into the air to shatter the thrown stones.
During his travels in the Monta Republic, Winters enjoyed so rare leisure ti.
He was not only free from being constantly on alert but also had plenty of ti to appreciate the scenery, investigate local conditions, draw maps, and explore regional cuisines.
He even picked up his long-neglected spellcaster practice and had the energy to develop so new tricks.
…
Had things gone as planned, Winters should have had such blissful days when he graduated from the Military Academy two years ago.
Because each officer cadet, in the fourth term of enrollnt at the Land Academy, would need to return to their place of origin for a year of practical internship.
At that ti, the apprentice officers from Vineta invariably chose to embark on a long journey by land back to their country.
The young officer cadets would dress sharply and bond closely to visit famous cities, ancient ruins, and battlefields along the coast of the Inner Sea, reveling and making rry all the way ho.
This ceremony was known internally among the Vineta officer community as “Victory Parade,” signifying that after enduring nine years of hardship at the military school, they had finally co into their own.
It was also jokingly called “the voyage of lost virginity,” because most Vineta officers lost their virginity on one of the nights during the Victory Parade…
Every year during the Victory Parade, apprentice officers would cause all kinds of trouble. However, the high command of the Vineta military always turned a blind eye as long as no lives were endangered, often helping clean up the ss.
Unfortunately, when it was Winters’ turn for the “parade,” the Vineta apprentice officers unprecedentedly took a ship ho. He and his peers not only missed out on the joy of indulging themselves, but were also intercepted by pirates halfway.
This journey from Paratu to Steel Fortress happened to inadvertently make up for that missed opportunity from two years ago.
…
At this thought, Winters sighed inwardly.
The pebbles on the shore varied in size and shape, not ideal for casting the Arrow Flying Spell, making it difficult to control their flight trajectory.
As Winters’ attention slightly drifted, the pebbles he shot went off course instantly.
Caman seed unaware of the discrepancy, continuing to throw goose egg-sized rocks into the lake. His teeth-gritted expression seed as if he was not aiming at the ice on the lake but at Winters’ face…
Although the priest didn’t have a burly figure and his deanor was gentle, his arms and abdominal muscles were strong, and his movents smooth.
He swung his arm and twisted his waist, seemingly effortlessly, and the stone traced a beautiful arc before landing on the distant ice surface.
Winters estimated the distance between Caman and where the stone landed to be at least thirty-five ters. He picked up a stone and weighed it, feeling he probably could not throw as far as Caman.
“Why! Must it be !” Caman grumbled as he threw stones at the ice surface: “Accompanying you in throwing stones!”
Winters shot out pebbles leisurely: “If we asked soone else to help, wouldn’t it reveal my identity?”
“It doesn’t reveal if I do it?”
“You’re a priest, I’m a spellcaster, we can keep each other’s secrets,” Winters said lightly: “And you know all about my capabilities.”
“Less nonsense!” Caman, provoked, threw the stones with three tis more force: “Your apprentices, Xial, Pierre, and your other subordinates, they can’t do it?”
“Who would have them, when they are not here? Xial and Heinrich are protecting Berlion, Pierre is on stand-by outside the city.” Winters innocently shrugged: “Among the rest, I trust you the most. I practice spells, you vent your feelings, benefits for both, it’s a win-win.”
“You perfected a spell and still annoyed ,” Caman retorted: “Win-win? You an you win twice?”
“You finally started to show a sense of humor, Mr. Priest Caman,” Winters said with a smile: “Truly delightful.”
Suddenly, the wolf-dogs by their side alertly raised their heads and growled low towards Winters’ back.
Winters turned around and saw Vashka leading soone over.
“Quiet.” Winters commanded simply, and the two wolf-dogs imdiately sat down obediently.
Vashka brought Borso da Este’s servant to Winters, and the liveried valet respectfully bowed and then presented an invitation with both hands.
The invitation was embellished with gold-embossed patterns, and inside it had a section of elegant script:
[Dear Sir or Madam, if you have no better diversions in mind and are not worried about being bored spending an evening with , please do not hesitate to grace my residence tonight, where you will be most welco]
The signature read “Borso da Este,” and there was a “Spreading Eagle” watermark on the paper.
Winters nodded, and Vashka motioned to take the valet away. However, the valet’s movents were sowhat sluggish.
“[Old tongue] Wait.” Winters called out to the duo, handed the ssenger three Gold Coins, and spoke a series of the old tongue.
Standing by, Caman hesitated montarily, and after a brief struggle, reluctantly translated: “The Baron thanks His Excellency Este for the invitation and will surely attend.”
The ssenger thanked them repeatedly, satisfied, and left with Vashka.
Once the two were far away, Winters took out the invitation again and inspected it carefully inside and out.
“Where did this invitation co from?” asked Caman.
“A gift from Mr. Ed.” Winters glanced over the text of the invitation: “It seems they’ve sent out many; there won’t be a lack of guests at the soirée.”
Caman nodded his head.
Winters lightly sniffed the paper of the invitation and laughed, “Scented with perfu, the White Eagle family truly is extravagant.”
As he spoke, he tried to peel off the gold foil on the invitation cover, without success.
“Casually rewarding a runner with three Gold Coins.” Caman, without any reservation, mocked, “Feeling the pinch now, are you?”
Winters put away the invitation, resignedly saying, “What Vasya gives has a number, what I give is another. Vasya is such a simpleton; if it were Pierre, he wouldn’t need anyone’s hint to get things done right.”
“Don’t you find yourself hypocritical, Mr. Montaigne?” Caman pointed towards the buildings by the lake, “You’ve gained so much Gold, moved into the best hotel in Steel Fortress, do you really need to pretend to care about three Gold Coins?”
“Living here is a necessity of status.” Winters remained unmoved, “And I’m not upset about the money; it’s the waste that I regret.”
Caman was noncommittal.
“The gold bars lted from the Sacrificial Gold Statue are all public property, you know it, you were a witness at the committee vote.” Winters was slightly indignant, “Even if I do really regret it… I’m not using public funds for staying at the hotel; it’s all my own money, why can’t I feel regret?”
“Where do you get the money if not from public accounts?”
“Salary!” Winters without guilt, “I haven’t received my salary for over a year! Can’t it be reimbursed?”
After glaring at each other for a long while, Caman’s attitude softened, half-seriously, half-jokingly praised, “You really do separate public and private matters, His Excellency Montane.”
Winters, feeling wronged, “Separating public and private? I haven’t even counted Anna’s salary!”
Caman fell deeply silent, then after a mont, surrendered saying, “Mr. Morozov is not suitable, why not call Pierre back?”
“Then who would stay and lead the people outside the city? I only have a few capable assistants; they must be placed in the most suitable positions.” Winters wrapped an arm around Caman’s shoulders, affectionately saying, “That’s why I need you to help train them, dear Priest, I truly appreciate your willingness to translate.”
Caman disgustedly knocked off Winters’ arm, “Why must you speak the old tongue? Is playing nobility amusing?”
Winters answered defiantly, “Playing nobility is boring, but if I spoke the common tongue, wouldn’t my accent give it away?”
“Huh.” Caman sneered, “You think your old tongue is very standard, do you?”
Winters touched his nose, feeling a bit ashad, “Does my old tongue have an accent too?”
Caman didn’t answer, only kept sneering persistently.
“Regardless, as long as they don’t understand, it’s fine.”
“Oh?” Caman retorted, “Then why is it you playing the noble, and I your personal Priest and translator, and not the other way around?!”
“Good idea!” Winters, as if finding a treasure, sincerely promised, “Next ti you play the Bishop, and I’ll be your steward and manservant, you’ll be satisfied for sure.”
“Next ti?!” Caman was alard.
“I an,” Winters hurriedly pacified, “if there is a next ti.”
Caman stared at Winters, his shoulders jerked, and he forcibly split a stone in his hand into two halves.
“[Thou shalt not steal, nor deal deceitfully, nor lie one to another].[The liar, thou shalt surely destroy. He that sheddeth blood and uses deceit is abomination unto the Lord.]” Caman solemnly warned, “Mr. Montaigne, lying also leads to Purgatory.”
“Only Purgatory?” Winters was a bit surprised, “I thought you were going to say Hell…”
Caman took a deep breath and threw both halves of the stone.
Winters stopped joking, and both quietly “shot at targets.”
After a while, Caman grumbled, “The Empire’s nobility have their pedigrees officially registered; a quick check reveals the truth. Don’t concoct a surna casually, it’s better not to be overly conspicuous.”
“Alright.”
Caman threw a few more stones in silence.
“…What’s the deal with the Beast Spirit Speaker?”
Unlike his usually teasing manner towards Caman, Winters’ movents did not stop as he casually replied, “I’ll tell you now.”
Reviews
All reviews (0)