The letter

Ryan shook his head.

"The letter contained only two sentences, and the contents were very simple. It looked like someone in desperate straits was asking us for help."

"Did it say what sort of trouble they were in?" Lumian secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

Neither the letters Aurora wrote to her pen pals nor the replies they sent her could possibly contain only two sentences.

"No." Ryan sighed softly.

You came all this way over a plea for help that told you nothing? Weren't you worried it was just a prank? Even the Tribunal's people aren't this eager. Aren't you a little too kind, too charitable, too devoted to your mission? Lumian mocked them inwardly.

Normally, he would have said all that aloud, but he still needed to pry information out of them. He couldn't anger them and cut the conversation short, so he forced himself to hold back.

Still, Lumian knew Ryan wouldn't tell him everything. They must have had other considerations-or reasons-for coming to Cordou Village to find someone on the strength of such a vague plea for help.

"Uh..." Lumian rubbed his chin and made a suggestion, figuring he had nothing to lose by trying. "How about letting me see the letter? Maybe I can tell who wrote it from the handwriting."

Valentine, whose hair was dusted with powder, gave him a look that said, "Do you take us for fools?"

Lya smiled instead. "You know how to identify handwriting?"

"More or less." Lumian wore an earnest expression.

He then added inwardly:

Being able to recognize Aurora's handwriting and my own counts.

"It's no use." Ryan shook his head again. "Every word in that letter came from the Little Blue Book. The sentences were pieced together from strips of paper cut out of it."

Very cautious... Why does that method sound familiar? Have I heard too many of Aurora's stories?... If they were asking for help, why hide their identity like that? Were they afraid the letter would be intercepted and they'd face retaliation? Or did they have something to hide themselves and want to stay out of sight? Lumian tried to analyze the writer's state of mind.

He deliberately put on a look of realization. "Most households in the village have a Little Blue Book. Are you chatting with people to find out whether their copies have been damaged like that?

"But that person could easily have bought another Little Blue Book without anyone knowing and thrown it away after using it."

"That's just one avenue we're pursuing," Ryan said calmly.

"There are other avenues?" Lumian didn't act like an outsider at all.

Ryan thought for a moment. "If someone is asking for help, someone must be harming them. Something must be happening, and that's bound to leave traces."

"That makes sense." Lumian looked troubled on their behalf, as though he shared their difficulties personally.

He solemnly promised, "My cabbages, I'll keep an eye out for you. Hopefully, I can find some clues."

"Thank you," Ryan replied politely.

Lya had already regained her composure. She asked, "Since we're friends, there's something I'd like to ask you."

"Go ahead." Lumian gestured with a smile.

"Why did the villagers in the tavern laugh when you called us cabbages?" Lya was quite curious about this.

The term was embarrassing, but he had said it was common local slang. Logically, it shouldn't have made anyone laugh.

Lumian answered sincerely:

"In slang, cabbage means cutie or darling. 'My cabbage' or 'little cabbage' is mainly used in two situations: between intimate friends, or by elders addressing younger people. 'My rabbit' and 'my chick' are much the same."

He stressed the word "intimate."

Then he added with an innocent expression:

"I just wanted us to become intimate friends."

He looked utterly pure, as though he had no idea that "intimate" could carry any hidden meaning.

I think you wanted to make yourself our elder... Lya finally understood why the villagers had laughed.

Although Lumian's explanation wasn't necessarily true, she at least found its logic convincing.

Ryan nodded along.

"Anything else?"

"No." Lumian didn't want to seem too eager either, lest they suspect something was wrong and investigate him and Aurora.

My sister couldn't stand up to an investigation!

After watching Lya and the others walk away amid the tinkling of bells, Lumian sat down at the entrance to the old tavern and waited for the lady of mysterious origins and unknown intentions to get up.

After a while, his friend Raymond Klegg came looking for him.

"Lumian, have you decided which legend to investigate next?" Raymond asked as soon as they met.

Over the past two days, he had been even more enthusiastic about this than Lumian. After all, he didn't have that strange dream or another way to obtain treasure.

"Not yet." That owl had come right to his door. Until he understood the situation, how could Lumian dare investigate the truth behind the legends?

He casually found an excuse:

"The Lent Festival is only a few days away. Let's enjoy the festival first and think about it afterward."

"Mm." Raymond thought that made sense. "That means I don't have to go be the Greenwatcher just yet either. I'll go after the Lent Festival. Even if someone grazes their animals over the next few days, they won't do much damage."

"So you don't need to leave the village for the next few days?" Lumian asked.

When Raymond nodded, he smiled and said, "What a coincidence. I can't leave the village for the next few days either."

"Why?" Raymond asked in confusion.

Lumian lowered his voice, his expression solemn.

"This morning, I ran into that owl-the owl from the Warlock legend. It said that if there weren't a church in the village, with God watching over it, it would take my soul away at once and cast it into the abyss..."

Raymond listened in shock and terror.

He began trembling all over.

"Really?

"I told you we shouldn't mess with evil creatures like that..."

As he muttered this, he suddenly noticed a hint of a smile on Lumian's face.

"..." Only then did Raymond remember his good friend's true nature.

"You're playing another prank? Lying to me again?" He was both angry and flustered.

He was angry with himself. He knew perfectly well what Lumian was like, and he had been tricked so many times. Why did he still keep falling for it?

"You actually believed something that ridiculous?" Lumian chuckled.

That's the real lie, so you don't crack under the pressure and go straight to the church to confess... he silently added.

"Phew..." Raymond relaxed.

Lumian then cautioned him, "Although that story was made up, I also wanted to tell you that investigating the truth behind the legends might be dangerous. Try not to leave the village and the church's protection unless you have to."

After saying that, he grumbled silently to himself:

That's true enough. Most of that story was made up, and only a little of it was true... If I didn't need a helper for so many things later, I wouldn't bother warning you or passing on Aurora's advice in another form. What do I care whether other people live or die...

Remembering the fear he had felt a moment ago, Raymond nodded in understanding.

"Okay!"

He stopped discussing the legends and asked instead, "Who will you vote for when they choose the Spring Spirit?"

The Spring Spirit was the central figure in the Lent Festival celebrations and a symbol of spring. In the Dalege Region, the entire village usually voted to choose a pretty, unmarried girl for the role.

"Ava, I suppose," Lumian answered casually. "Hasn't she always wanted to be the Spring Spirit at least once?"

"I'll vote for her too." Raymond secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

Yesterday, Ava had hinted that she wanted him to vote for her, so he felt he ought to help her secure more votes.

Outside a house not far from the old tavern.

Ryan, Lya, and Valentine were in no hurry to find someone to "chat" with.

"Was it really all right to tell that fellow so much?" Valentine asked, raising a hand to cover his nose and mouth.

A faint smell of poultry droppings hung in the air.

Lya fiddled with one of the silver bells on her head. "I don't know whether it was all right. There's only one thing I can confirm: my divination told me he's one of the people who can help us."

"When an investigation is stalled, letting a little information slip so that those involved act out of fear is a very effective method," Ryan explained his intentions. "Next, we'll watch him more closely and see what he does, or whom he seeks out."

After Raymond left, Lumian entered the old tavern and saw that the lady who had given him the Tarot card was back in her usual seat.

Today, she wore a white blouse with a pair of loose-legged, light-colored trousers. Beside her lay a round straw hat adorned with several small yellow flowers.

She really has a lot of clothes in her suitcase. She changes every day, unlike Lya and the others, who look so shabby... Musing over this, Lumian approached and sat down across from her.

As he did so, he casually glanced at her breakfast:

A plump meat-filled pie with a thin sauce inside;

Several small ring-shaped cream pastries;

Seasonal fruit cut into pieces;

A glass of pale, clear liquid with a few flecks floating in it.

None of that is anything the old tavern can serve... Lumian pointed at the drink and asked with easy familiarity, "What's that? It doesn't look like alcohol."

"A special drink called Venus Holy Oil," the lady replied casually. "It's made by mixing Cinnamon Water infused with sugar and vanilla with poppy flowers. A bar in Trier invented it."

The word "Venus" came from Emperor Roselle. In one of his stories, he had mentioned a woman whose beauty rivaled that of a goddess.

"Where did you get it? Did you make it yourself?" Lumian doubted even Dalege, the nearest city, could offer anything like it.

The lady smiled.

"As a traveler, obtaining the right things at the right time is a professional instinct."

"I don't understand," Lumian said honestly.

He changed the subject. "I dealt with that monster from before. This time, I ran into two more dangerous kinds..."

He described the three-faced monster and the monster carrying a hunting shotgun, then concluded, "I feel like they both have strength beyond that of ordinary humans. I can't handle them. Is there any way to deal with them?"

The lady took a bite of a small ring-shaped cream pastry. Her eyes shifted slightly, and she smiled. "I can't say about the three-faced monster, but you can deal with the one carrying the hunting shotgun entirely on your own, as long as you make good use of what's special about you."

"What's special about me... What's special about me?" Lumian was both surprised and bewildered.

Even I don't know!

The lady looked at him with a smile. "It's your dream. As its owner, you naturally enjoy certain special privileges. You simply haven't discovered them yet."