Chapter 1449 - 1412: Old-Fashioned

"This is also Lann’s friend, why are you nervous?"

Ged spoke casually, but Shilton shrank his neck, carefully glancing at Gascogne standing on one side, and whispered.

"But I feel something’s off! Even for a portal, it doesn’t look like this! I’ve seen plenty of portals!"

"And just look at him... He’s surrounded by a green glow! Isn’t that a demon spirit?"

Gascogne indeed had a layer of green glow around him, which was quite peculiar, as if slight reflections were cast upon him from the external sinister green light source.

Deep and gloomy.

But now the moon had already moved halfway across the sky, surrounded by either night or blazing red light, where could a green light source possibly come from?

At first glance, Gascogne appeared normal aside from his peculiar outfit, but upon closer inspection, he gave an inexplicable chill.

Shilton considered himself well-traveled, and though he had conversed with Gascogne, he still suspected him of being a demon spirit, just one that was special enough to communicate.

"A demon spirit!" exclaimed the Red-bearded Dwarf, whose bell continued shaking endlessly, his face alarmed, "This bell must be a magical artifact to restrain him! I dare not stop!"

"And look at him savoring the expression!"

Gascogne’s eyes were still covered with gauze, yet on the streets freshly splashed with blood, he instinctively inhaled deeply, as if savoring the scent of blood.

In the nostrils of Yan Nan People, this unusually sweet scent swirled through his chest before being long exhaled.

The scent of blood activated the body of the Yan Nan Hunter, and Gascogne’s breath visible as white vapor in this autumn night.

Belengar’s mouth twitched, but he still explained to the distrustful Shilton.

"No, he’s not a demon spirit, this is at most... a spirit projection? Demon spirits don’t have this kind; there’s no such category."

"The item you hold should just be a magical item capable of mutual resonance, not a magical artifact to bind demon spirits."

"Uh... Are you sure?" Shilton showed an expression of doubt, only stopping the bell shaking after Belengar nodded again.

"Hmm, that’s much better, the sound of the summoning bell was continuously ringing in my heart, listening for so long becomes irritating."

Gascogne sighed in relief.

"I saw you seemed to enjoy the scent of blood earlier?" Ged asked suspiciously, "Could it be you’re also a vampire? Another vampire friend of Lann’s?"

"Vampire? Are you referring to the Blood Race? No, I’m not." Gascogne tried to grasp the meaning, shaking his head, "But the scent of blood is indeed unusually sweet to my nose... It’s a dangerous habit I’m trying to overcome."

"Wishing you success in advance, Gascogne."

Belengar said, while tentatively trying to move the leg that was shot earlier.

The old Demon Hunter had long since divided his Valyrian steel shares with Lann, and he spent far less money than young people did.

Thus, his equipment was the best and top-tier, with the most expensive alchemy bombs, sword oils, and magic potions.

The Advanced Swallow, after being ingested just a moment ago, rapidly healed the thigh muscle where the arrowhead was forcibly removed from, thus stopping the bleeding and not affecting movement.

This was why Ged dared to pull the arrow directly from him earlier – knowing that this old wolf only had quality goods on him.

"There are still several important places in the Workshop District we need to oversee, and these craftsmen need to be settled first."

Belengar organized the situation item by item, causing Shilton and Ged to nod repeatedly.

After speaking, he also patted his injured leg, stating gravely, "And the most crucial... they tried to capture me alive, you should know what this means."

"They want all the secrets of Valyrian steel," Shilton frowned, "So we must rigorously protect you."

"Not only protecting you amidst open blades and shots, but also from the intangible magic that may attempt to extract your knowledge!"

"There’s no need to worry about that." Belengar waved his hand, a mysterious expression on his face.

"Mental magic cannot bewilder demon hunters for long, and I’m an old hand, knowing how to handle such measures as long as I’m not captured alive, I won’t leak..."

"Don’t say such careless words!"

Before Belengar could finish his ambiguous sentence, Ged interrupted with a stern face.

"Their numbers don’t seem vast, and the terrain here isn’t complex." Gascogne chimed in nearby, "I should be able to stay for a few more hours, by that time Lann should be finished with what he’s doing now?"

"Thank you." After a brief silence, Belengar smiled at the summoned ally, saying, "Once this is over, we could enjoy a drink together."

"Perhaps, I could gift you a trendy hat with that, yours is awfully old-fashioned."

"Old-fashioned... is it?"

Gascogne muttered this word, recalling his first encounter with Henrik and Lann.

He lifted his hand to adjust his wide-brimed hat, and under the blindfold, a smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"I’m looking forward to seeing what kind of hats are popular here."

-----------------

It was already three or four in the morning, but the banquet in the hall of Airetusa had not yet ended.

However, the banquet’s style had shifted toward tradition, and the atmosphere relaxed considerably. People moved long tables away, brought in long benches and armchairs, and started playing some vulgar and decadent games.

Many people sat around a whole barrel of wine, drinking and chatting, occasionally bursting into loud laughter.

Just a while ago, they solemnly listed a series of banquet etiquettes, repeatedly reminding and setting examples for others, casting disdainful glances at those lacking manners. But now, they were directly picking up lamb chops and pig feet with their hands, eating heartily.

A few folks gathered together to play cards, while someone slept nearby.

A few couples were passionately kissing and exploring in the corners of the banquet hall, and from the heated atmosphere, mere kissing certainly wouldn’t satisfy them.

Dikoschek and the Redania soldiers he brought were quietly moving in the shadows of Airetusa, heading out of the academy.

Dikoschek almost fainted with anger about the false list situation.

This time, their presence was to support Philippa; on one hand, they indeed needed to clean out the traitors among the warlocks.

On the other hand, they hoped to pull out the weeds and reveal a list of people associated or colluding with these warlock traitors.

It was best to identify them before the upcoming war erupted, clearing and preparing in advance.

But what use was an unreliable list? Worse still, just having seen this list and its leak already caused trouble for him, Vizimir, and the Redania Kingdom!

The spy network would be under threat, and in future operations, credibility and reliability would suffer greatly!

The only solace for Dikoschek was that before they could act upon the list, Lann had already identified it as problematic.

Fortunately, he hadn’t had the chance to use this list yet; otherwise, he might’ve found himself facing execution!

Yet it was Lann, the Demon Hunter among them, who let Dikoschek’s desire to personally interrogate and examine fade away.

The king’s lackey had already pushed the boundaries today; in any case, they could not continue staying within Airetusa.

Even Philippa agreed on this point.

Even if she hadn’t seen Lann, she would have asked them to leave once she confirmed Dikoschek had completed his task.

After all, she was still a Wizard.

Damaging the independent status of Wizards in the North also harmed herself.

"Look at these people, my lord."

Dikoschek glanced back at the brightly lit banquet hall from the shadows.

"How happily they play, like a bunch of children. Meanwhile, as they frolicked, the supposedly loyal Warlock Supreme Council nearly captured all identified traitors and detained those with suspected ties.

"Soon, those people will be thoroughly investigated, then tried for treason and collusion with the Niflgaard people."

"Look at those pairs of wild lovers; before they finish their little business below the belt, Viggo Fortez will have already been hanged. Tsk tsk tsk, what a strange world, isn’t it?"

The Warlock Supreme Council was originally one of the two institutions where warlocks were meant to self-govern.

But times changed, and kings inevitably infiltrated it with pervasive political influence.

Was this penetration initiated by ambitious kings, or was it power itself blending into it? It’s unclear now.

Currently, all five members of the Warlock Supreme Council bear the title of ’Royal Advisor’ from various countries.

It seemingly became the confluence between warlocks and kings’ power.

Those warlocks who acted this time, indeed, were led by several Great Mages from the Warlock Supreme Council.

"Quiet, Dikoschek."

Lann merely said this.

"You’d better hope your entrance into Airetusa can be concealed. I’m sincerely advising you. You’ve slapped the warlocks in the face; though they’re now too self-occupied, you’d better not publicly boast about this slap."

"Otherwise, you never know when you’ll be found dead in your own bed, with hair grown on your lungs only visible during an autopsy, and Vizimir will surely choose to keep the peace."

Airetusa at three or four in the morning was silent and dimly lit.

Due to the emphasis on secret arrests, the fifty soldiers Dikoschek brought wore soft-soled shoes, making no significant noise on the marble floor.

In the long dark corridor and lofty luxurious vaults, only the soldiers’ silent footsteps and the two men’s whispered conversation could be heard.

They then exited the building, as chilly winds blew from the dark sea, and the group finally no longer needed to tread lightly.