Chapter 280 Meeting
As spring turned to summer, the rain in Port-Maurice was even more intense than in White Tower. Under the veil of rain, two visitors from White Tower University made their way to the address Nova had given to Rabelais.
"That kid actually managed to take over such a large territory." Along the way, Owl couldn't help but sigh in amazement: "This student of yours is really promising."
Rabelais did not respond, his face looking gray and gloomy. Because of the fatigue from the journey, and even more because since he learned the identity of the "person" beside his beloved disciple, the old man had hardly slept a full night.
They finally stopped in front of a nondescript building, and several dark figures immediately emerged from the shadows. One of them stepped forward, his gaze pausing hesitantly between Owl, leaning on his cane, and Delses Rabelais, standing behind him in a waterproof cloak. He then lowered his head to compare the portraits, then nodded solemnly. "Mr. Rabelais, and Mr. Owl, please follow me."
The interior of the small building was much more spacious than it appeared from the outside. The young man in charge of security led the way while explaining to Rabelais with some embarrassment, "The Chief has been very busy these past few days and is still in a meeting. He told us that if we see you, we will obey your orders..."
"I can wait." Rabelais snorted coldly: "Take me to his study."
The young man paused and looked at the owl hesitantly. The implication of his words annoyed the owl, who had rarely been treated so coldly. "What? Do you think I'm going to blow up that kid's study?"
As the president of the Oakensele Society, a powerful man at the level of Lord Prayer, few people dare to ignore him like this - but he has to ask for help from others. Owl thought a little sourly that the brat and his subordinates are so hypocritical. They just "do whatever you say" to their own teacher, but "and Mr. Owl" to him, the boss of the society.
Finally, I stepped into the ghost's territory. The owl stood by the window, hands clasped behind its back, silently gazing at its hazy reflection in the glass. The seminary's dean, lost in thought, also didn't touch the papers piled on his desk. Instead, he sat motionless in his chair, lost in thought as he gazed at the books and specimens the study's owner had arranged on the shelves.
There were light footsteps outside the door, and the next second, the doorknob turned. The owner of the study came back, and judging by the noise, there was more than one person.
Owl turned around and let out a deep breath, beginning to feel nervous for a rare moment. Even through the thin wooden door, he could still clearly sense the undisguised, terrifying pressure that gave him goosebumps. It was obvious that the other party had already noticed his presence.
...God. He now faced a deity walking the mortal world, the very being he had been searching for his entire life.
He saw that familiar yet strange, intimidatingly beautiful face. His figure had lost almost all of the youthful frailty he'd experienced when he'd first met him. The blond young god was clutching a stack of documents. He considerately pushed open the wooden door, his eyes fixed intently on another person, and he was speaking gently.
As for the man next to him, he was still as tall and thin as before, pale as a ghost, and his smoky gray eyes hidden behind the lenses seemed to be able to dig out a person's soul. When he saw Rabelais, he immediately revealed a slight surprise and undisguised joy.
"Teacher?" The young man's eyes widened. "You arrived earlier than I expected."
Rabelais stood up suddenly and strode forward. The worry and anger that he had been suppressing all the way made him raise his palms high to the crowd - then hugged his student tightly.
"...You've lost weight again." He pinched his beloved disciple's shoulders, looking her up and down carefully, his voice hoarse and trembling: "Why have you lost so much weight? Are you not eating well again?"
The young man's overly pale skin made any dark circles under his eyes invisible, making him look tired. Only his eyes were surprisingly bright.
"...I haven't lost weight." The other person let him look at him with a stern face, and muttered uncomfortably, "I've gained a lot of weight since our last meeting at Baita University."
Noticing that the old man's eyes seemed a little red, he stiffened and subconsciously looked at the people around him for help: "Really, Azuka can prove it."
With his partner taking care of him, his lifestyle had become much better than when he was single. At least coffee was limited, his meals were regular, and he got enough sleep – and every now and then, he had a sex life that relaxed his body and mind and completely drained his energy.
Rabelais: “…”
—You stupid kid! You're bringing up all sorts of issues!
"You had just been released from prison and had suffered a lot. How can you compare to that time?!" He said with a sullen face, poking the student's forehead hard, causing him to stumble. "Look, look! A grown man's body is not as strong as an old bone like mine!"
Receiving the distress signal from his nemesis, Azuka stepped forward with amusement and helplessness, changing the subject: "It's raining heavily outside, isn't it? Why don't you take off your cloak first, and we can sit down, drink a cup of hot tea to warm ourselves up, and then slowly talk."
The old man glanced at him and nodded reluctantly, but the next second he used his body to separate him from his students without hesitation.
The savior narrowed his eyes calmly. For some reason, the other party seemed more respectful toward him, but also more wary—as if they had witnessed a monster licking its tongue and smacking its lips, coveting a precious cub.
Nova was completely unaware of this. He found the teacups for guests, asked his mentor to change his rain-soaked coat quickly, and then rummaged around for a dry towel to wipe his hair to prevent him from catching a cold.
The owl's mouth twitched as he watched his once promising student being courteous to his teacher and completely ignoring his existence.
He finally couldn't help but cough lightly, indicating to the three happy people that there was a fourth living person in the room.
This time the black-haired young man finally looked at him straight in the eye.
"Long time no see, Mr. Owl." The other party nodded at him coldly.
—Then he began to ask Delses Rabelais if he had eaten and if he would like anything to eat first.
owl:"……"
Why does he feel so upset?
The owl had never suffered such an injustice before. When he saw that the cup in front of Rabelais was already filled with steaming hot tea, while the cup in front of him was still empty, he finally couldn't bear it anymore and knocked on the table in front of him, angrily reminding him, "Dear Mr. Ghost, have you forgotten that there is a guest here?"
"I haven't forgotten, but how can you drink tea with a hood on?" The other party gave him a puzzled look and said, "Besides, the teacher has come a long way and is old, so I naturally have to take care of him first."
…As much as he hated to admit it, he was an old man, considering his age! What? Warlocks don't have human rights?!
Owl snatched the cup in frustration, poured himself a cup of tea, and then took off his mask in front of everyone - now everyone finally focused their attention on him.
Nova stared at the hideous and strange face and blinked slowly. He could clearly hear the teacher's gasp. It was obvious that the teacher had not expected that the famous owl would have such a dignified look.
——Sure enough, he guessed right, the black-haired young man thought calmly, the disfigurement forced this strong and proud man to wear a disguise.
Owl forced himself to ignore the surprised glances—those looks of fear, wonder, mockery, or pity that always stirred a wave of violence in him. Oliver, the genius, the arrogant Oliver, the Oliver who tried to become a god, was doomed to end his short life under a painful curse, reduced to a state neither human nor ghost.
It was his best friend Gibson Wyatt who pulled him along, tolerated his bad temper, told him not to give up, and found the Weaver to save him...
The owl's facial muscles couldn't help but twist for a moment. In order to cover it up, he lowered his head expressionlessly, turned his face to the side, and slowly drank tea with his mouth tilted to his cheek.
——So how should he hate his loyal and brave lifelong friend? And how should he face the traitor who destroyed his ideals and trust?
The owl ran away, he chose to escape.
"Look, look openly." The old man, horribly and twisted like a creature from a nightmare, sneered, "This is the curse of the goddess of fate."
The black-haired young man stared at him for a moment, then suddenly asked without warning, "Who asked you to come?"
"A madman," said the Owl coldly.
"Magnus?" The other man studied his face without any courtesy and speculated with certainty, "You were imprisoned by the Weavers. Did they send you to Azuka to break the curse?"
——So what was the curse cast on the Bourne family before, a test?
"...You're very smart." The owl stared at him for a moment, then suddenly smiled, a smile that seemed distorted no matter how you looked at it. "Really, very smart."
He stood up and turned to look at the blond young man beside him, bowing his head. "Your Excellency... Your Excellency, how should I address you?"
"You know my name," Azuka said calmly and coolly.
Before the owl could answer, the professor suddenly asked, "Did Magnus also tell you that Azuka is a god?"
"Yes." Owl said straightforwardly. Seeing that the man seemed to know the crazy charlatan, he did not hide it anymore and simply sold the man out.
"...He then suggested I seek the help of this gentleman, and told me that you two were lovers." This bird of prey was rarely polite. "So I took the liberty of asking Mr. Rabelais for help. I hope you will understand this."
"—What lover?" Dels Rabelais, standing beside them with a serious expression, suddenly interrupted them. His gaze froze for a moment on the faces of his beloved disciple and the thing beside him, then he turned his head and glared fiercely at the owl, slamming his hand on the table, causing the teacup to clang.
"You bastard! What are you talking about?!" The old man's eyes widened, his face flushed red, and he pointed his trembling finger at the owl's nose: "What do you mean by 'lover'? Explain it to me now, or I will never let you go!"
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