Chapitre 181: Chapter 181: Leonard and the Witch
Chapter 181: Leonard and the Witch
As the lingering music faded away, the dark clouds in the sky also departed tactfully, allowing the crimson moonlight to spill down once again.
"Are you truly certain about this? Once you embark on this path, there's no room for regret."
"Isn't it what you've always wanted? For me to become a real witch, just like you?"
"What I hoped for was that you would come to this decision on your own and become a witch willingly, not because of love. Otherwise, you'll suffer greatly in the future."
"Isn't that better? Only through suffering can we get closer to the origin."
"Fine, I'll bring the assassin's potion tomorrow night to help you become extraordinary."
"Where's mother?"
"Ha, she's probably at the bar looking for a suitable companion."
With that final mocking remark, Moraka dressed and left through the window, blending into the shadows.
The wind blew through the window, clearing the strange scent from the room.
Madam Germani rose from her bed and stood before the full-length mirror, letting the crimson moonlight bathe her smooth, delicate back.
She gazed at her reflection, gently touching each part of her body, her face devoid of any excess emotion.
"How wonderful would it be if these were the hands of Baron Campbell?"
Madam Germani murmured silently, imagining Hastur standing behind her, embracing her.
Alas, in the mirror, she was always alone.
…
The Braveheart Bar
Having finally escaped his busy affairs, Leonard returned to this paradise for the brave.
Unfortunately, he did not see Mr. Hastur, with whom he had drunk merrily that night, so he asked the bartender to pass on a message should Hastur arrive.
Sitting at the bar, Leonard ordered three glasses of Southwell beer in one go. Having successfully expensed 50 gold pounds for drinks, he had plenty left to enjoy a little alcohol without worry.
After about half an hour, a graceful figure entered the bar.
She appeared to be in her late twenties, yet her skin was as white and tender as a seventeen or eighteen-year-old girl.
Her features were exquisite, flawless, dressed in a complicated black gown, her height of nearly 1.75 meters made her legs look exceptionally long.
She was beautiful and alluring.
She walked gracefully, a faint smile on her lips, but her eyes exuded the majesty of a queen.
Inside the bar, all the patrons drinking were captivated by her presence.
Leonard couldn't help but take a second glance; she was indeed an exceptionally beautiful woman.
One could say she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life.
There was nothing about her that could be criticized.
The woman, unfazed by the many gazes, approached the bar and ordered a blue cocktail, two seats away from Leonard.
Her slender fingers gently traced the rim of the glass, her eyes seemingly lost in the blue liquid, serious and oblivious to her surroundings.
In just about three minutes, no less than seven or eight men tried to strike up a conversation with her, but all retreated in disappointment.
Leonard did not make a move, instead sipping his Southwell beer, and after a while, he glanced at her.
As a regular at the bar, he had his own insights about women who came to drown their sorrows in alcohol.
For example, the woman before him was likely a mistress kept by some nobleman, lacking neither money nor admirers.
Such people favored interesting souls.
Only by piquing their interest could there be any progress.
To think that a few drinks could coax someone into bed was naive.
With such women, patience was key; first, make them interested in you, then it's your turn to take the initiative.
Leonard knew this well, so he remained seated, without any intention of approaching her.
He quietly drank, his eyes inadvertently revealing a sense of nostalgia and vicissitude, making him seem like a man with a story.
Stories, especially unknown ones, usually have a different appeal to the opposite sex.
Women who come to the bar to get drunk aren't looking for well-behaved boys; they're interested in men with stories.
After about an hour, the woman in the black dress finally stood up and moved to the empty seat beside Leonard.
"It seems you've had quite a few stories happen to you?"
"They're all in the past. Now, I only care about the stories that will happen in the future."
Leonard's voice was gentle yet carried a weariness and a hint of past pain, which quickly faded, leaving only calmness and indifference.
"Who can see through the future? Can you?"
Her voice was soft and pleasant, like fragile stained glass, as if she might burst into tears at any moment.
She was a woman with many sorrows.
Leonard thought for a moment and said, "The future I see has no pain, no sadness, no troubles, only pure happiness."
"Don't you have anything in your heart worth being sad about?"
"As long as you learn to forget, sadness is just an insignificant symbol in life."
The woman looked into Leonard's eyes and whispered, "My experience tells me that you're not as composed as you appear to be."
Leonard smiled, "Your approach always unsettles people. I can only restrain myself, but I can't avoid it."
"You're quite the talker, but it's too late tonight. Tomorrow night, if you're still here…"
With those words, the woman in the black dress paid her bill and left the Braveheart Bar.
At that moment, many patrons who had been watching raised their thumbs to Leonard, some even whistled lewdly.
Leonard's lips curled into a faint smile, appearing calm, but inside he felt an unprecedented sense of satisfaction filling his heart.
He was already looking forward to their meeting tomorrow night.
Late at night, after paying his bar tab of 2 gold pounds and 3 sullers, Leonard left the Braveheart Bar.
He walked a distance before hailing a carriage.
Returning to the North District, where he lived, Leonard hummed a triumphant tune as he bathed.
Back in his bedroom, lying in bed, his mind was filled with the graceful figure of the woman in the black dress.
Finally, unable to suppress his joy, he exclaimed, "Old man, on a scale of ten, how would you rate my performance tonight?"
"Ten."
A voice echoed from deep within.
Leonard was shocked, "Old man, you actually gave me a perfect score! Was my performance tonight really that outstanding?"
"Of course, with just a few words, you've made a deep impression in her heart and even arranged to meet again tomorrow night. Such a performance definitely deserves a full score."
Leonard chuckled, "Old man, I'm not as good as you say. I only gave myself a nine."
"Oh? Where did you lose that one point?"
"Alas, not being able to win her over on the first meeting shows there's still room for improvement in my abilities."
"You've actually learned to be modest, that's rare."
After a moment of happiness, Leonard realized, "Old man, you're not mocking me, are you?"
"You're overthinking it. I have high hopes for you, keep it up."
"…"
Leonard found it strange; the old man wasn't usually so agreeable.
But tonight, he was unusually affirming. Had he finally recognized Leonard's shining qualities?
"The appointment tomorrow night."
Leonard chuckled for a while, then pulled the covers over his head, his laughter barely contained.
"Oops, I seem to have forgotten to ask for her name. How rude of me."
…
Hillston District
Today, Hastur visited the law firm. Instructor Folen wasn't there, busy with some school matters, and asked him to check in when he had time.
The law firm was running smoothly, and there were few decisions that required Hastur's input. Most matters were handled by the lawyers brought in by Instructor Folen.
With nothing pressing, Hastur reviewed the law firm's financial statements for the past month.
From an initial lack of reaction to a twitching eyelid, and then to utter shock.
This law firm was truly making money! In just one month, after paying the lawyers' salaries and assistants' wages, the firm netted around 3000 gold pounds.
Now, the factory managed by Manager Haley, with nearly two hundred employees, generated about the same profit.
Yet the entire law firm, with fewer than twenty people, could create such a fortune.
Knowledge can indeed be turned into wealth.
In the afternoon, Hastur stepped out for a bit. Greleck mentioned that a nobleman from Southwell County recently wanted to sell his land there.
That land bordered Hastur's own territory.
Hastur, in a good financial position, naturally wouldn't miss this acquisition opportunity.
Moreover, he wanted to take the chance to learn more about Southwell County.
Even though the Campbell family's lands were there, his knowledge of the area was limited.
"I need someone to help me manage the territory temporarily."
Hastur sighed. He still needed to stay in Beckland to handle the affairs of his title promotion and couldn't leave.
Otherwise, he would have liked to be a remote emperor in his own territory; that feeling must be quite nice.
(End of Chapter)
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone