LMRF 08

Episode 08

The Owl

Lumian had merely had a flash of inspiration; he truly hadn’t thought of actually finding that owl.
It was such an old matter, and an owl’s lifespan was far shorter than a human’s, so the owl that flew over when the warlock died had likely long rotted away to nothing. Even if that owl were still alive, the chance of successfully finding a specific owl on that mountain was zero.
Because there were too many.
And it wasn’t as if that owl had any distinctive features… No, wait, the rumor gave no description of the owl. Narcaa hadn’t mentioned what it looked like either. Should’ve asked in more detail…

Coming to his senses, Lumian smiled at Raymond and said,

“If it’s an owl related to a warlock, it might live a hundred years.”
He comforted Raymond, who seemed more frightened than before.
“Don’t worry. That’s the last resort. I don’t want to face a monster either. Let’s find other elders to ask first. Maybe there are important clues Narcaa missed.”

Lumian coaxed him with an enticing tone.

“If I were a warlock, I would absolutely not keep all my treasures nearby or at home. I’d prepare another space to store a portion separately. That way, even if I had to flee suddenly from a surprise Inquisition raid without time to grab anything, I could rely on that to get back on my feet.”

An important duty of the Ever-Burning Sun Church’s Inquisition was to eradicate all warlocks and witches, publicizing their great achievements in the countryside.

“Right!”

Raymond became excited again, his face filled with anticipation.

“Too bad it’s such an old event. The wealth the church seized back then has surely been spent already.”
“Hey, that kind of thinking is dangerous.”

Lumian retorted teasingly.

The two continued to visit elders like old Pierre Mori and Napoleania.
Their answers were similar to Narcaa’s, but the experienced Lumian and Raymond managed to glean quite a few details.
For example: That owl, belonging to the medium-to-large category, basically resembled its kin with a pointed beak, cat-like facial shape, brown feathers, spotted patterns, tawny cornea, and black pupils.
However, its physique was larger than other owls of its kind, and its eyes, though seemingly movable, were a bit stiff and vacant-looking, unlike a typical owl.
Such descriptions made the owl seem more malevolent.

“Doesn’t seem like particularly useful clues.”

On the road leading to the village square, Lumian said to Raymond.

“Looks like we should focus on other rumors.”
“Alright.”

Raymond was no longer as frustrated as before.

“Which ones?”

This guy’s gotten quite proactive and diligent.
Praising him inwardly, Lumian prepared to reward Raymond.
He nodded.

“Let me go back and think it over carefully, discuss it again tomorrow.
In the afternoon, I’ll teach you some combat techniques.”
“Great!”

Raymond was very pleased with this unexpected schedule.
Aurore was an excellent fighter. Otherwise, she couldn’t handle the village’s rough, wild men. Her brother must be the same.

After bidding farewell to Raymond Craig, Lumian took a small path toward his home.

Having walked for quite a while, several men approached from the opposite direction.
Leading them was a middle-aged man. Short, under 170 centimeters, wearing a white robe, he had sparse remnants of black hair on his head.
His well-proportioned features exuded a solemn air, and the tip of his nose was slightly hooked. His dark blue eyes aimed at Lumian held undisguised disgust and malice.
He was Guillaume Bene, parish priest of the Church of the Ever-Burning Sun in Cordu.

“Been waiting for you a while.”

Guillaume Bene said in a weighty voice.

“You deliberately brought those outsiders to the church hall, didn’t you?”
“I thought you were resting inside, Father.”

Lumian tried to excuse himself while secretly retreating backward.
He had spotted Guillaume Bene’s brother, Pons Bene, standing beside him. In his thirties, he was robust and had a violent temperament, enjoying bullying the villagers.
Surrounding them were bodyguards who followed him and the parish priest.

Seeing Lumian retreating, Guillaume Bene signaled to Pons with a glance.
Pons Bene then stepped forward with a vicious smile.

“You son of a bitch, let me teach you a lesson about Pons’s might!”

As soon as his words fell, he charged at Lumian. The surrounding bodyguards did the same.

In a country village like Cordu, reasoning wouldn’t get you an apology. Only direct, forceful action could earn others’ awe. Well aware of this, Parish Priest Guillaume Bene was also accustomed to handling matters this way. The moment he confirmed it was Lumian who had brought the outsiders into the church hall, he decided to catch him and give him a thorough beating. Only by putting him in bed for about a month could he feel compensated for the humiliation and insult he had suffered.
Of course, Aurore had to be avoided.
Regarding the law, a word to the Administrator and Fief Magistrate, Beost, would suffice. City constables wouldn’t bother coming to a remote village to investigate such a small matter.
Moreover, since Beost was from outside, unless immense benefits were at stake, he absolutely wouldn’t risk angering the locally born and raised priest.
For Guillaume Bene, it was fortunate that the outsiders who witnessed his affair with Madame Poiris, the Administrator’s wife, hadn’t spread it around, so Beost was still unaware of the fact.

They were fast, but Lumian was faster. The moment Pons spoke, Lumian turned and started running like mad.
He had a considerable grasp of the parish priest’s habits and behaviour.
Once, a villager had reported to the city’s Ever-Burning Sun church that Guillaume Bene had not only kept several mistresses unbecoming of a clergyman but also embezzled tithes offered by believers to the Ever-Burning Sun and arbitrarily bullied villagers. But one afternoon, he somehow fell from a height and lost his life.

Thud-thud-thud!
Lumian ran as if wind had risen beneath his feet.

“Stop!”

Pons, shouting loudly as he chased, wasn’t slow either. The bodyguards were also pursuing Lumian.
Exiting the small path, Lumian didn’t dash onto the main road but instead barged directly into a nearby house.
The homeowner, preparing lunch in the combined living room and kitchen, was suddenly confronted by Lumian rushing into his house.
Lumian passed them by and slipped out through the window at the back of the kitchen.

However, when Pons and the others gave chase, the homeowner, having regained his senses, stood up and blocked them, asking,

“What are you doing? I said, what are you doing?!”
“Old man, get lost!”

Pons shoved the male homeowner aside, but in doing so, lost time.
By the time they chased to the window and climbed over it, Lumian had already entered another small path.
After pursuing for a while longer, they ultimately lost Lumian’s trail.

“Damn bastard!”

Pons spat a gob of phlegm onto the roadside.

✧ ✧ ✧

Outside the semi-basement two-story house.

Catching his breath, Lumian opened the door and entered his home as if nothing had happened.

“One, two, three, four; two, two, three, four…”

A regular chant reached his ears.

Heading to the space beside the kitchen, Lumian saw Aurore, her blonde hair tied up in a bun, wearing a linen shirt, tight-fitting white long pants, and dark-colored shoes made of lambskin, bouncing up and down there. Her forehead was drenched in sweat.
In Cordu village, most of the first-floor area was typically used as the kitchen. This space, the heart of the home, was where cooking, dining, and meeting guests took place.
And also physical training…

Already accustomed to such sights, Lumian wasn’t the least bit surprised.
Aurore often did such strange things and never explained why when asked.
Training stamina is a good thing. Looks good too…
Approaching her, Lumian quietly began to watch.

A while later, Aurore stopped moving, bent over, and turned off a black battery-operated tape recorder.
Then, taking the white towel Lumian handed over, she wiped the sweat from her forehead and said,

“You remember we scheduled combat training for this afternoon, right?”
“You tell me to study, and you tell me to do combat training. Aren’t you asking too much of me?”

Lumian complained casually.
Aurore glanced at him and laughed.

“You mustn’t forget our goal is to develop comprehensively in morality, intellect, physique, aesthetics, and labor!”

Her voice grew brighter as she spoke, as if recalling some beautiful memory or interesting event.

I’m already a lost cause in the morality department.
Lumian muttered inwardly.

He asked,

“What kind of combat training is it?”

He simply couldn’t understand how Aurore, who seemed endlessly fragile on the surface, was a combat master proficient in various fighting schools. No matter how hard he tried, he could never beat her.

Thinking seriously for a moment, Aurore leaned forward slightly, raised her head, and stared directly into Lumian’s eyes.
Then, grinning broadly, she announced loudly,

“Self-defense techniques!”
“What?”

Lumian was puzzled.

“Isn’t that what girls learn?”

Straightening up, Aurore shook her head with a solemn face and said meaningfully,

“Boys also need to know how to protect themselves outside. Who says men won’t encounter perverts?”
The smile at the corner of her mouth deepened.
Unable to tell if his sister was joking or serious, Lumian silently took the white towel and headed for the stairs.

Just then, his foot caught on something, and he pitched forward.
The moment he floated into the air, Lumian urgently tightened his abs, stretched out his arms, grabbed the chair placed nearby, and, with a twist of his body, managed to land stably with difficulty.
Aurore retracted the foot she had stretched out and laughed.

“One of the basics of combat is that you must constantly observe your surroundings. You can’t let your guard down for a single moment. Remember that, my greenhorn brother?”

She had just reached out with her right hand to grab Lumian’s back but withdrew it upon seeing him regain his balance.

“That’s just because I trust you that much…”

Lumian muttered.
But upon careful thought, he realized such trust was meaningless, because the number of times he’d been tricked by Aurore was countless.

Aurore cleared her throat once, then composed her expression.

“How did the conversation with that woman go?”

Lumian summarized the conversation, then added,

“I plan to think about exploring the dream after your friends’ replies arrive.”
“A wise choice.”

Aurore nodded with satisfaction.

Lumian changed the subject.

“What’s for lunch?”
“There’s still some toast made this morning. I’ll grill four more lamb chops for you.”

Aurore answered after a moment’s thought.

“What about you?”

When Lumian pressed, Aurore answered casually,

“I’ll have finely chopped truffle chicken congee with cheese onion soup. I tried it once before, quite…”
Her words suddenly cut off as she froze. The next moment, she raised both hands as if to cover her ears. The muscles on her face gradually began to twitch.
Consequently, the beautiful woman’s appearance became grotesquely distorted.
Lumian watched her silently with an expression of worry and concern.

A moment later, Aurore let out a long sigh and returned to normal.
Her forehead was again drenched in sweat.