Cards

Light red wine. Sure enough, someone from a big city... Lumian's gaze finally landed on the glass cup in that lady's hand.

Light red wine was a liquor brewed from sugar and pickled cherries. Its color and taste were very popular with ladies. Of course, other suitable fruits could also replace cherries, and the taste would vary slightly, but not by much.

This was one of the few high-grade wines the old tavern in Cordou Village could produce. The reason they kept it on hand was because Madame Pualis had fallen in love with this light-red-colored wine after going to the provincial capital of Bigos once.

Madame Pualis was the wife of Beaost, the local administrative officer and territorial judge. Her ancestors were nobility who lost their titles during the era of Emperor Roselle.

She was also one of the mistresses of Guillaume Béné, the parish priest. Not many people in the village knew about this, and Lumian was one of them.

Lumian withdrew his gaze and walked toward the bar counter.

Sitting there was a man in his forties wearing only a linen shirt and matching trousers. His brown hair was already sparse and rather messy, and the corners of his eyes, mouth, and forehead had wrinkles from years of toil.

This was precisely Raymond's father, Pierre Krag.

Yet another Pierre.

Therefore, Lumian had joked in front of Lya, Ryan, and the others that if he shouted Pierre in the pub, at least a third of the people would answer.

When the villagers talked about these Pierres and Guillaumes, they would add qualifiers like whose house they belonged to, otherwise it was completely impossible to tell them apart.

In quite a few families, the father and child even had the same name, both called Pierre or Guillaume. Neighbors could only add "Old," "Big," or "Small" to distinguish them.

"Dad, why aren't you going to the village square to chat with the others?" Raymond walked over to his father's side.

The men of the village loved to gather under the elm tree in the square or at someone's house to play dice, cards, and chess, discussing all sorts of rumors-going to the tavern cost money.

Pierre Krag held his cup of red wine, turned his head, and glanced at his second son:

"I'll go after a while. There shouldn't be many people in the square right now."

That's right, where had all those men in the village gone? Lumian was suddenly somewhat puzzled.

Just now in the square, he hadn't seen a single figure.

"Uncle, I'm looking for you to ask about something," Lumian said straightforwardly.

Pierre Krag instantly grew vigilant:

"Another prank?"

The story of The Boy Who Cried Wolf really does have a realistic basis... Lumian turned his head slightly, signaling Raymond to speak.

Raymond gathered his thoughts and said, "Dad, how long ago did the warlock legend you told me about actually happen? The one where it took nine cows to pull the coffin."

Pierre Krag took a gulp of the red wine and said in puzzlement, "Why ask about this?

"This was what your grandfather told me when I was little."

Leston Province, where Cordou Village was located, along with the neighboring Aulay Province and Sushit Province, were all situated in the south of the Republic of Intis. They were famous wine-producing regions, and the wine here, especially the cheap kind, was very inexpensive. In certain years, people could even drink wine like water.

Raymond listened in a wave of disappointment because his grandfather had passed away long ago.

Just at that moment, Pierre Krag added another sentence:

"Your grandfather said he saw it with his own eyes when he was young. Ever since then, he's been afraid of owls, worried that souls would be carried away by such evil creatures."

Lumian and Raymond's eyes lit up at the same time.

There really were clues!

That warlock legend was actually something certain people had experienced firsthand?

"Did Grandpa say where that warlock originally lived and where he was taken to be buried later?" Raymond pursued the question.

Pierre Krag shook his head:

"Who would care about that?"

Seeing that Raymond still wanted to ask something else, Lumian reached out and patted him, saying loudly, "Time to go to the river."

Just as Raymond was about to follow Lumian away, Pierre Krag suddenly remembered something:

"Wait, Raymond, in a couple of days you're going to be a Greenwatcher. I'll tell you some things you need to pay attention to."

A Greenwatcher was responsible for patrolling the plateau pastures and surrounding fields near the village, preventing people from grazing during the closed season or letting livestock destroy the green shoots.

Lumian didn't stay to listen and went to the washroom attached to the tavern.

When he came out, he deliberately passed by the out-of-town lady who was drinking light red wine and whose exact age was impossible to tell.

Although he wouldn't do things like chatting up strangers, he wanted to observe in advance and gather details so that when the time came, this might come in handy-just like how he used Ryan, Lya, and the others to catch the parish priest's illicit affair in the act.

Scanning the corner without leaving a trace, Lumian prepared to bypass it and wait for Raymond at the tavern entrance.

Right at that moment, the lady wearing an orange dress and a lazy disposition raised her head.

The gaze Lumian hadn't managed to retract collided squarely with the other person's line of sight.

For a moment, even with Lumian's thick skin, he felt somewhat awkward.

One thought after another immediately popped into his head:

Should I learn from the parish priest and the administrative officer, smoothly praising her beauty and turning observation into an advance, or show a green, youthful side and hurriedly turn to leave...

Just as he made up his mind, that lady smiled and spoke:

"Have you been having frequent dreams lately?"

With a swish, Lumian felt as if he had been struck by lightning. His entire mind went numb, and all his thoughts froze right there.

It was only a matter of a second or two before he forced a smile and said, "Isn't dreaming a very normal thing?"

That lady cupped her cheek with one hand, looked Lumian up and down, and chuckled softly, "A dream immersed in thick fog."

How did she know... Lumian's pupils instantly dilated, and a hint of terror crept into his expression.

Although he had experienced quite a few things, he was young after all, and for a moment he was somewhat unable to control his facial expressions.

Calm down, calm down... While pacifying himself, Lumian relaxed the muscles on his face and retorted, "Did you listen to the story I told those three outsiders last night?"

Without answering, that lady took a stack of cards out of the orange handbag placed on the chair beside her.

She looked at Lumian again and smiled, "Draw a card. It might help you unlock the secrets hidden in that dream."

This... Lumian was both startled and suspicious.

For a moment, his heart fluttered with excitement while remaining highly vigilant.

He glanced at the deck of cards, frowned slightly, and said, "Tarot?"

That looked like the Tarot cards invented by Emperor Roselle for divination.

The lady lowered her head for a look, chuckled self-deprecatingly, and said, "Sorry, got the wrong one."

She stuffed those twenty-two Tarot cards back into her medium-sized handbag and took out a different deck.

"These are also Tarot, but they belong to the Minor Arcana. You aren't qualified to draw Major Arcana yet, and I'm not qualified to let you draw them either..."

The Minor Arcana consisted of fifty-six cards total, made up of four "suits": Cups, Wands, Swords, and Pentacles.

What on earth is she talking about... Lumian was thoroughly confused.

This lady looked both beautiful and graceful, but her actual behavior was rather abnormal; her mental state seemed a bit problematic.

"Draw one." The lady who seemed to come from the big city shook the Minor Arcana in her hand and said with a smile, "Free of charge. Trying it doesn't cost money, and it might even solve the problem with your dream."

Lumian chuckled and said, "My sister said that whatever is free is the most expensive."

"There is indeed some truth to that statement." The lady thought about it and said.

She placed the Minor Arcana beside the glass cup holding the light red wine, then added, "Yet as long as you refuse to pay no matter what, how could an outsider like me have the ability to force you to pay a fee in Cordou Village?"

That's true... Drawing one won't hurt... It's so hard to come by a hint regarding that dream, how can I be reconciled without trying... But would this involve a warlock's curse? Should I ask Aurora for help? Thoughts raced through Lumian's mind, and for a moment he couldn't make up his mind.

That lady didn't rush him either.

After a dozen seconds, Lumian slowly leaned over, extended his right hand, scattered the stack of Minor Arcana, and drew one from the middle.

"Seven of Wands." The lazy-looking lady glanced at the face of the card.

On that card, a man with a resolute expression, dressed in green clothing, stood on top of a mountain holding a wand, resisting the six wands attacking from the foot of the mountain brought by his enemies.

"What does this represent?" Lumian asked.

The lady smiled:

"Interpret it yourself based on the pattern. Crisis, challenge, confrontation, courage, and so on, and so forth.

"Of course, none of that matters. What matters is that this card is now given to you. When fate arrives, you will discover its true meaning."

"Given to me?" Lumian grew even more puzzled.

This card wouldn't actually be cursed, would it?

The lady packed away the remaining Minor Arcana, picked up her wine glass, and drank down the small amount of light red wine left inside.

Ignoring Lumian's question, she strolled toward the stairs on the side of the old tavern and went up to the second floor.

Clearly, she lived up there.

Lumian originally wanted to chase after her, but only took a single step before stopping, his thoughts fluctuating:

Is this really just an ordinary card?

She gave this card to me, wouldn't that deck always be missing one card and unable to be used?

Aurora should be able to see if there's a problem...

At this moment, Raymond came looking for him:

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. That outsider really is good-looking," Lumian perfunctorily lied.

"I think your sister Aurora is even better-looking," Raymond said, then immediately lowered his voice. "Lumian, what do we do next? My grandfather died a long time ago."

Anxious to go home, Lumian thought for a moment and said, "First, find old folks around your grandfather's age who are still alive, and second, go to the church to check the registry-uh, let's consider this last."

Thinking that he had just ruined the parish priest's good deed, Lumian felt that recently he shouldn't go to the church unless necessary.

In a countryside like Cordou Village where there was only a single church, because the administrative officer's staff was extremely small, the church undertook a portion of governmental functions, such as recording births, deaths, and marriages.

Without waiting for Raymond to ask again, Lumian added, "Let's split up and see which elderly people meet the criteria, and go ask tomorrow."

"Alright." Raymond agreed on the spot.

Inside the semi-subterranean two-story building.

After listening to Lumian's account, Aurora carefully examined the Wands card for a while and said, "It's indeed a very ordinary card. I didn't sense any curses or other anomalous presences."

"Aurora, uh, Sis, what on earth does that outsider want to do? Why does she know I'm having dreams like that?" Lumian asked.

Aurora shook her head:

"Since she's already laid her cards on the table, it's relatively fine.

"These next few days, I'll properly 'observe' her.

"Mhm... Keep this card for now. There might be some changes. Rest assured, I'll be watching."

"Okay." Lumian forced himself to relax a little.

Nighttime.

Lumian tucked the Wands card into the clothes hanging on the back of a chair, got into his bed, closed his eyes, and fell asleep.

I do not know how much time passed when his groggy self seemed to see that gray fog again.

Suddenly, his whole body gave a start, and he "woke up" in the dream.

He felt that he had regained sobriety and recovered his sanity.

Yet the dream permeated with gray fog still existed.