Chapter 40
People are quite receptive to new stories.
If the story happened recently, and the location is not far from where people live, then people's interest in this fresh story will increase dramatically.
If that's not attractive enough, how about adding another element: the protagonist of the story is an unattainable nobleman?
Waves of customers came to the tavern, but not a single one left. Gradually, the tavern was filled with people, and even the spot where Veris had initially sat was being eyed covetously.
The guests whispered among themselves. There were no minerals embedded in the tavern that could transmit sound, and while Veris's voice wasn't quiet, it was still somewhat difficult for it to reach every corner of the tavern.
Later, everyone stopped communicating and listened to the poet's performance with varying expressions.
The young man squeezed next to Granva looked down at the old man and exclaimed in surprise, "Uncle, you actually cried while listening to this!"
Granva wiped away his tears, sighed, and ignored the young man.
He was crying over his lost reputation.
Veris reworked the story into a long poem, divided into four main sections, strictly following the current format for dividing long poems. Each section has fifteen stanzas, and the poet needs to explain the theme and sequel of the story within those fifteen stanzas, usually in a nine-plus-six structure.
With its tight structure, dramatic storyline, and melodious piano music, this performance was simply flawless.
Veris has a unique talent for portraying love stories.
The story ends with Duke Mercury's defeat and his decision to die with his beloved. As for this beloved, neither Granvard's writing nor Veris's song explicitly states her identity.
After the performance ended, the tavern was quiet for a moment, followed by cheers from the entire room.
The tavern owner gave the waiter a signal, and the waiter immediately understood. He carried a tray and walked around the tavern with a smile, asking for tips. Before long, the tray was covered with coins.
Although the poet said he didn't want any payment, he couldn't be shortchanged on his reward. Besides, the tavern owner had seen many bards perform such a wonderful show, and this was definitely an unforgettable night for him.
Veris returned to the corner. The dim lighting in the tavern made things easier for him; the other customers only noticed the flickering light and shadows, and the poet had vanished without a trace.
The wheat beer on the table had gone cold. The tavern was warmer than outside because it was full of people, with some standing. Some people had already started fanning themselves.
Veris stuffed the accordion into his backpack, then picked up his wine bowl and drank it all in one gulp. The long poem he had just performed had lasted for almost two hours, and he was thirsty.
It was getting late, and some guests, seeing that the poet was no longer performing, finished their drinks and went home.
Granva silently poured wine for Veris, and the tavern became lively again, filled with conversation. The corner where they were sitting, which had just been occupied by a few people, was no longer so crowded.
He couldn't remember the last time he had heard a bard perform. He was getting old, and after years of living a life of luxury in the Papacy, the roadside tavern had long become a distant memory of his youth.
There weren't that many bards in the capital.
There were no bards who stayed in the capital for long.
“I really didn’t expect you to stick with it for so many years.” He sighed heavily.
Even if they are archbishops revered by the world, they have no right to interfere with the Pope's decisions.
Since he entered the Papacy, the Pope in his memory hadn't stayed there much. Sometimes he would go to dangerous areas to inspect the sealing arrays, and sometimes he would go to the Royal Academy to help research some lost techniques.
Later on, it became common for the Pope to not return to the capital for several years.
When Granvart learned that the esteemed Pope was wandering the continent as a bard, he thought it was a joke.
His Holiness the Pope said with a serious expression, "Being a bard is much harder than being a great mage. Don't look down on bards."
Now, the Pope said to the elderly great magician with a serious expression, "Because the memories of this continent need to be passed down, this is the most suitable method I can find."
The young priest who once listened to the bards' performances has become a great magician whom no one dares to offend, while the noble pope wanders the taverns in the streets, enjoying the cheers of the crowds.
In the dim light, a glint flashed in Granva's cloudy eyes. He cautiously turned his head to look at the person he usually dared not look directly at, and replied, "How can you possibly manage on your own?"
The Pope's profile was as youthful as he was remembered; he was an immortal being, a living god to the Orlando Church.
Upon hearing this, Veris thought about it seriously for a moment, then said with a smile, "It's okay, I won't be the only one in the future."
"Granvard doesn't want to write the story you imagine? A story like 'From the Rebellion of Mercury'!"
Granva turned his head back expressionlessly: "You don't need to give examples."
The young man laughed heartily: "I'm sure many people will like the stories you write, no matter who the protagonist is. Look at the performance just now, weren't you all very happy?"
"I hope so." Granva smiled wryly and raised his wine bowl, about to drink, when a bowl suddenly reached out from the side and gently touched his bowl, making a crisp sound, and the Pope's cheerful voice followed.
"Let's celebrate the story you've been brewing for sixty years."
The waiter brought the tip for tonight; the silver coins were piled on Veris's table. He picked one up and examined it in the dim light.
"This winter, I'll set off from here for the capital, Lortheran," he decided happily in his heart.
"Do you need half of it? You wrote it too, so it counts as your contribution."
"..."
"Oh dear, you're so old and still crying."
-
This winter is similar to previous years, making it the best year for ordinary people.
I don't expect any extraordinary adventures, I just hope that it will be like this every year, and that my family will be safe and sound.
The further north you go, the colder the weather becomes. Mornings come late, and the grass is covered with a thin layer of frost that doesn't necessarily melt away even after the sun comes out.
In another month, this place will be covered by heavy snow, the river will be frozen, and the villagers will stay indoors, warming themselves by the fire.
For a boy growing up in the south, snowfall is a rare occurrence.
The brave party finished their business in Milford City and embarked on their journey, their destination being the distant capital of Lortheran, the most prosperous city on the continent.
"The Kingdom of Lortheran is divided into eleven districts and the capital. The capital is located in the central part of the kingdom, adjacent to the Central Mountain Range and the Central Forest. The Royal Academy is located on the side of the Central Forest. We leave Milford City and enter the border of the kingdom, which is the Ninth District. We will pass through the Eighth District, the Sixth District, and the Fourth District before we can reach the capital."
On horseback, Allen held a scroll of map in both hands and spoke.
Beside him, a thin boy pursed his lips, playing with the ice ball he had conjured in his hand. The ball he had just created with magic didn't look very round.
Meanwhile, the blond boy, holding the reins in one hand, leaned out to pick up pine cones from the snow-covered rocks.
The sky was overcast, and our breath quickly turned into white smoke. The narrow path, where the snow had just stopped, was impassable without a horse.
Nobody paid any attention to Allen.
He took a deep breath, and was about to ask Arnold if he had heard him when Arnold cried out "Ouch!" and fell off his horse, landing in the snow.
On the other side, Murphy glanced at the disheveled blond boy and uttered a single word: "Stupid."
Arnold got up from the ground. His horse, being good-natured, stopped and waited for Arnold when it saw its master fall off.
The blond boy clutched the pine cone: "Hey, do you think this is edible?"
Allen clenched his fist: "We have to get to the nearest town before dark, or we'll be spending the night in the wilderness."
Arnold awkwardly cast a cleansing spell on himself, grabbed a pine cone in one hand and the reins in the other, and mounted his horse with renewed vigor: "Alright! Let's go full speed ahead now!"
The group finally picked up their pace and managed to catch a glimpse of the town before night completely engulfed the world.
After a month or two of travel, they are no longer the naive young people they once were.
After entering the town, find a hotel first.
This small town is located at the border of the Ninth and Eighth Districts. There are many merchants coming and going, and the town is visibly prosperous. However, it is much quieter at night because of the arrival of winter.
The buildings in the town are more beautiful and larger than those in Albion.
The brave team quickly found an inn. It was snowing lightly. The inn door was half closed, and the owner was standing behind the counter, talking to a man wearing a large hat in front of him.
Allen handed the horse to Arnold and then stepped into the inn. The fireplace inside was burning, making the inside much warmer than the outside. The innkeeper noticed the new guest and his previously serious expression immediately broke into a smile.
The man wearing the big hat turned around, glanced at Allen, then looked up and saw the figure outside the hotel. He turned to the hotel owner and said, "Don't forget, I'll come find you again tomorrow at noon."
After saying that, he straightened up and walked out.
Stepping outside, he indeed saw two teenagers. The taller, blond boy stared at him. The man in the big hat paused, seemingly surprised that the man was staring at him so intently. An unnatural look crossed his face, and he turned and walked in another direction, quickly disappearing around the corner.
Murphy asked, "What's wrong?"
Arnold scratched his head: "I always felt that he was a bit strange, the way he looked at us was a bit odd."
The white-eyed boy hummed in agreement. He had been standing next to Arnold, almost entirely enveloped by Arnold's shadow, and the man in the hat hadn't even noticed him.
“We can use a tracking spell,” Murphy suggested.
Arnold quickly shook his head: "No, no, maybe I'm just imagining things."
Murphy turned and glanced at him, but didn't say anything.
Allen had already paid for the room, and the Hero Team had successfully checked in. The snowstorm outside intensified, so the group, who had originally planned to go out for dinner, had to stay in the hotel.
The hotel also provides meals, but the taste is not as good as that of a dedicated restaurant.
On the left side of the first floor, there is a semi-partitioned space, which is the dining area, with many tables and chairs.
The three sat together, waiting for dinner.
While we were waiting, several more groups of people arrived outside.
Arnold and his companion whispered, "I didn't expect there to be so many people at night."
Allen frowned slightly and took out a map from his bag again. It was different from the one he had seen on the way here. This map mainly marked various towns and villages in District 9 and District 8.
He spread the map out on the table, and Arnold came over to look at it, while Murphy sat opposite him, looking uninterested.
"What's wrong?" Arnold asked.
Allen opened his mouth. Logically speaking, it was normal for passersby to stay overnight in this small town. Even in winter, the bustling atmosphere of the town suggested that there were quite a few people here.
But he always felt that something was wrong.
You can't rely on intuition alone without evidence. After looking at it for a while, Allen shook his head, put away the map, and changed the subject.
They plan to leave the town tomorrow morning—if the weather is nice.
If a blizzard comes, we'll have to stay in this town for a few days.
"I've never seen a blizzard before!" Arnold's attention was clearly not on the town he was stranded in.
Allen shrugged: "A blizzard probably hasn't occurred in District 9 and District 8 for more than a decade."
Arnold said disappointedly, "Fine."
Murphy didn't speak. He turned his head to look at the dark window and pursed his lips.
Since entering this town, the magical elements in the air have been subtly stirring, and the levels of water and ice elements are rising rapidly.
We spent almost the entire day traveling. After dinner, the three of us went back to our rooms to wash up and rest.
In the middle of the night, Arnold was awakened by the sound of strong winds hitting the window. The whooshing sound seemed to be roaring in his ears. He poked his head out from under the covers and stared blankly out the window.
After a while, he realized what was happening, threw off the covers, got up, and ran to the window. The window frame was trembling slightly because of the strong wind. If the corners hadn't been reinforced, the wind would probably have blown the window apart.
He tried to activate the magic of light, and soon a point of light appeared in his hand. He held the point of light up the window and saw snowflakes hitting the window and then being swept away by the wind.
"Could it really be a blizzard?" Arnold's eyes widened.
"It's a monster." The sudden voice in his mind startled Arnold. The remnant soul hadn't shown itself for a while. The last time it appeared was when he wanted to embed the stone he had bought in the Mercury City market into his staff, and it suddenly stopped him.
He said that the stone would not benefit his magical practice and would only make him vulnerable to being labeled an evil sorcerer, captured, and executed.
Arnold had no choice but to give up.
From what I can see so far, that remnant soul has not harmed him.
He pursed his lips, his expression turning serious: "Do you know what level of magical beast it is?"
"At least level six." After the remnant soul finished speaking, it fell silent. Arnold sensed that the aura had disappeared again, and knew that the remnant soul had fallen asleep once more.
Is this guy really asleep? He always manages to appear at just the right moment.
Sunlight reflected on the window, and Arnold stared intently at the face reflected there. A knock sounded behind him, and he straightened up and walked toward the door.
It was Allen who knocked on the door. He looked serious and lowered his voice: "Something's not right. This isn't ordinary weather."
Dragons can ultimately be considered a type of magical beast. Although his dragon bloodline was thin, Allen, having been a mercenary for so many years, immediately sensed a familiar aura.
The door to the next room was also opened, and Murphy walked out with a pursed lip, followed by a gust of cold wind.
There were still a few snowflakes in his hair. The young magician raised his hand, and a white magic circle appeared. "I placed a magic circle on the outskirts of the town, but it has now been destroyed."
"There are quite a few magical beasts capable of manipulating ice and snow, but their exact locations are unknown."
As he was speaking, the sound of running suddenly came from downstairs, and the loud stomping on the wooden floor was very obvious. The three of them looked at each other and headed for the stairs.
Meanwhile, the hotel was still completely dark, and the howling wind outside completely drowned out their conversation.
The lingering warmth of the fireplace filled the hotel corridor. Their footsteps were neither too loud nor too soft, and they finally stopped at the handrail, looking down from above.
The door on the first floor was half open, letting in a gust of wind. The warmth in the air was gradually disappearing. Several people stood in the hall, silent and motionless.
Arnold's pupils contracted slightly. What were these people doing?
Suddenly, he saw one of the figures move, slowly raising its head to look up at the building.
The hotel was eerily quiet, with only the sound of the cold wind outside.
Arnold instinctively held his breath.
Murphy twitched the corners of his mouth, his lips moved slightly, the spell was cast, magic power condensed, and a white magic circle suddenly appeared in his hand, then quickly flew towards the few people standing frozen downstairs.
The light from the magic circle instantly illuminated the scene on the first floor.
When Allen and Arnold saw the scene on the first floor, they both gasped in shock.
Those people wore black robes, had ordinary features, and were expressionless. When the white magic circle lit up, they all looked up at the second floor.
The boy's eyes reflected those identical faces, stiff and pale, somewhat swollen, as if they had been soaked and then frozen for many days.
The magic circle had a burning effect, and just as it was about to strike those people, the person who had looked up first made a move. He raised his equally pale finger, and a light blue ring appeared, aligning with Murphy's magic circle.
The rings rippled outwards like waves on water, and the white magic circle dissipated.
For a time, the two sides were deadlocked.
However, this stalemate did not last long. After the white magic circle disappeared, they all turned around and walked outside in an orderly manner.
Allen's eyesight was good enough to see even in the dark. He gritted his teeth and watched as the people left the hotel one by one, their movements perfectly synchronized.
These people are so strange that he even doubts whether they are real humans.
"What are they?" Arnold asked hesitantly.
Murphy turned around, and Arnold turned to look at him: "Murphy, where are you going?"
The boy kept walking: "It's a blizzard outside. If you show up, you're just going to die. You might as well keep sleeping."
Arnold: "..."
The door on the first floor was still open. He didn't know what had caused the running sound earlier, or what those people wanted to break into the hotel for. Arnold frowned slightly and decided to go downstairs to close the door first.
As the oldest member of the team, Allen chose to accompany Arnold.
They went down to the first floor and smelled an extremely strong, fishy smell of the sea.
Allen's face grew increasingly serious. Districts 9 and 8 are located inside the continent, so how could they have such a strong ocean smell? It was different from the fishy smell of seafood he had seen at Mercury Market. The smell on the first floor was lighter and not as fishy.
Arnold crouched down, channeling light magic into his hands, and carefully stared at the ground. Then he stood up, walked around the area, and whispered to Allen, "There are a lot of water stains on the ground."
When the two arrived at the hotel, it was almost pitch black outside. The moonlight barely reached the ground through the thick snow and wind, and the hazy light seemed to come from nowhere. The strange people disappeared into the snow and wind outside.
Allen pushed the door shut with all his might, and just as it was about to close, something suddenly got stuck inside.
A muffled voice came from outside the door: "Wait, wait, I haven't gone in yet."
The two were startled. Arnold instinctively reached for his sword, only to find it still upstairs.
Allen hesitated for a moment, then loosened his grip, and the door was pulled open again, revealing the person outside to the two of them.
Amidst the swirling snow, the young man wore a felt hat and a cloak covered in snow. His pale face was bloodless, yet he appeared much more vibrant than the black-robed figures Arnold and the others had just seen. His handsome features were gentle, and the corners of his mouth unconsciously curved upwards.
Veris blinked: "Hmm? So it's you guys."
Arnold's eyes widened: "Veris, how could you—" His raised voice was quickly covered by Allen.
The young man in the felt hat slipped inside and then casually closed the door. The door was incredibly obedient in his hands, fitting perfectly against the other door after it was closed.
He turned around to fasten the latch, only to find that it was broken.
Allen looked at him, and although he was surprised, he felt inexplicably relieved when he saw this person.
With this person here, I doubt anything serious will happen to him...
Veris took off his felt hat and held it in his hand. He looked at the two boys and said cheerfully, "Now that you're here, I'm relieved."
He made no attempt to lower his voice, strode to the table and chairs on the left, unloaded the backpack from his back, placed it on the ground, and then found a chair to sit down.
Arnold couldn't wait to ask, "Veris, what brings you in so late?"
Allen frowned. His relaxation just moments before had been brief. Now, he looked at Veris with wariness in his eyes, wondering if a magical beast skilled in disguise or illusion might invade.
"I was performing at the tavern in the back, and the owner tried to deduct my wages. I argued with him for a long time, and by the time we came to our senses, it was already snowing heavily outside, and the wind was very strong."
Veris said with a smile.
"When you came back, did you see a group of people dressed in black?" Allen asked.
"Yes, the hotel door was opened by those people just now. They all look exactly alike, it's so strange. They can even deal with Murphy's magic circle, but they left without doing anything." Arnold spilled the beans.
Veris stroked his chin: "That's strange, but I didn't see anything suspicious when I came back."
Arnold looked somewhat disappointed; he hadn't expected those people to disappear so quickly.
Just as he was about to ask Veris when he arrived, footsteps came from upstairs. A young mage wrapped in a coat stood on the stairs, holding a magic wand almost as tall as himself. Beneath his fine black hair, a pair of pure white eyes stared intently at the poet sitting in the chair.
Allen's expression hardened, and he abruptly pulled Arnold over.
A magic circle was raised, a burst of white light erupted, and Murphy's cold voice rang out: "Break—"
The beam of light flew towards the young man, instantly piercing through his body. When it hit the hotel wall, it seemed to strike something soft, causing ripples to spread outwards.
Arnold's expression darkened, and he and Allen retreated to Murphy's side. When he turned his head again, he found that the men in black were still standing upright in the hall, and the water stains he had noticed on the ground had spread and flooded, submerging the soles of his boots.
"Are you... also going to fight for the Divine Key?"
The leader of the men in black spoke, his voice hoarse and unpleasant, with a strange accent that sounded similar to that of Amberley, but also somewhat different.
The Divine Key? What's that?
Just as Arnold was wondering what was going on, he heard a heavy thud, and he looked up sharply in that direction.
The second-floor corridor is directly above the hotel counter. The hotel's layout is similar to a "U" shape. The stairs are next to the counter. Just now, someone fell from the second floor and landed right on the counter.
Then he slid to the ground, and the water on the ground was instantly stained red with blood. The smell of blood wafted over, stimulating his brain.
—It's the man with the big hat they saw tonight.
-----------------------
Author's Note: [Seven Mysteries, Part 13]
Veris was once severely injured by Yannis and fled from the Sky Palace back to the mainland to hide and recuperate.
Believing his friend had been stolen, Sylvain forcibly awakened and, with his half-human body, clashed head-on with Yannis, destroying half of the Sky Palace.
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