Naroka

After leaving the old tavern, Lumian stood on the packed-earth road, hesitating over where to go.

The morning sunlight spilled down, carrying a slight chill.

Just then, Raymond Klegg approached from the side.

"I was just about to look for you."

"Is something wrong?" Lumian had returned to normal and asked deliberately.

Raymond looked surprised.

"Did you forget? Today we were going to find the old people who are still alive and around my grandfather's age, and ask them about the Warlock legend."

Lumian pressed a hand to his head, looking pained.

"Were we? Why don't I remember? Or were you hallucinating?"

Startled and frightened, Raymond was about to recall the details to confirm whether he had imagined yesterday's events when he suddenly saw a smile appear on Lumian's face.

"You bastard! You're playing pranks again!" Raymond couldn't help cursing.

"That was a pretty weak insult." Lumian clicked his tongue. "Even Ava is better at swearing than you."

Ava Lizier was a pretty girl from Cordou Village who now worked as a gooseherd.

Her father, Guillaume Lizier, was a cobbler skilled at making leather shoes from the hides supplied by shepherds. He was fairly well known in the surrounding villages.

"Ava..." Raymond's expression changed.

He then looked at Lumian.

"Ava is our friend, right?"

"Yes." Lumian nodded with a smile.

The two of them, along with Ava, Guillaume from the Berri Family, and Ava's younger cousin Azema Lizier, were a group of young people who often spent time together.

"Why don't we let Ava join our investigation into the truth behind the legend?" Raymond suggested. "You know, her father is always saying, 'Why must a woman be given a share of the property when she marries? So many decent families have fallen into ruin that way.' It makes her very uneasy. If we could get some treasure or a reward from the investigation, she'd probably feel a lot more reassured."

"I've heard the men in charge of several village households say similar things, including the parish priest. They'd like their brothers to stay home forever, even after marriage, instead of setting up households of their own, since that would mean giving them their rightful share of the property." Lumian glanced at Raymond with a smile and said, feigning casualness, "That's why many families prefer to send one of their children off to be a shepherd. That way, he's unlikely to marry, and he'll have an income that lets him support himself most of the time."

Raymond's face gradually darkened.

He really had never considered that.

This was also why he liked hanging around Lumian. Although most people in the village said this fellow had a nasty disposition and liked lying and playing pranks, his knowledge really did surpass that of everyone their age. Unlike Raymond, who knew little, drifted through his days, and could only follow his family's arrangements.

As long as you understand... Lumian silently remarked, steering the conversation back on track.

"It's too late now. We need to hurry and ask people. We'll find Ava tomorrow. Hmm, we can also get Little Guillaume and Azéma involved later. Besides potentially yielding something, this will be an interesting activity that helps us develop our abilities."

"Let Little Guillaume and Azéma join too?" Raymond was somewhat reluctant.

The more people sharing the reward, the less he would get.

More importantly, that would leave him with no chance to win Ava's favor.

Lumian looked at him with a little more kindness and pity in his eyes.

Silly boy, do you think Ava would take a fancy to you? She has high standards and only wants to marry into a good family. She clearly has some affection for a "bad guy" like me, yet she can still keep herself in check...

In the local expressions of the Dalege region, "high eyebrows" meant having high standards and looking down on ordinary people.

"My sister said there's strength in numbers," Lumian briefly explained. "Which old people do we need to visit?"

"You didn't look into it?" Raymond asked in surprise.

After what happened with that Wands card, how could I have had the energy to ask around... Lumian smiled. "Of course I did. I just want to test your ability to gather information."

Raymond didn't suspect anything.

"There are nine old people still alive in the village who are around my grandfather's age or a little older. They are..."

Six women and three men. Women really do live longer... Lumian listened quietly, then thought for a moment and said, "We don't need to visit the last two. They're from other villages and married into this one.

"Uh... let's ask Naroka first. She's the oldest, and she was probably already an adult when the Warlock incident happened."

Naroka wasn't her actual name. It was an honorific.

In Leston Province, married women from distinguished families or those who were the actual heads of their households were entitled to the title of "Madame." Specifically, an "a" was added to the end of their names to indicate femininity, while "Na," meaning "Madame" or "mistress of the household," was placed before their names.

Madame Pualis's family had long since fallen into decline, and at home she had to obey the administrator, Beaost. Thus, she couldn't have "Na" prefixed and "a" appended to her name, and could only be addressed using the separate word "Madame."

Naroka's husband had died young, leaving her to shoulder the entire household. Even after her two sons had grown up, married, and had children, and she herself had grown old, she still held control over the family's finances.

This was quite rare in Cordou Village. In the vast majority of cases, men were in charge. In a household without a father, once a child reached adulthood, he would naturally take back the authority to manage the entire family from his mother.

"All right." Raymond had no objections.

After passing a few buildings, Lumian saw four old women sitting in front of a two-story house, basking in the sun and chatting idly.

Sitting close together, they were also picking lice off one another, looking quite relaxed.

In the countryside of the Republic of Intis, picking lice off one another was a recreational activity that fostered closeness and expressed affection.

"Should we ask now?" Raymond hesitated.

He was afraid word would spread that the two of them were searching for the truth behind the legend.

"Let's wait a little longer." Lumian nodded solemnly.

As far as he knew, many rumors in the village originated at gatherings like this and spread from person to person.

After quite a while, the other three old women left one after another, as they still had chores to do at home.

"Good morning, Naroka." Lumian immediately walked over.

Naroka's hair was already white, and her eyes were slightly clouded. She wore a dark dress made of coarse cloth. Her hands looked as if they were covered in chicken skin, and prominent age spots marked her face.

"When will Aurora come out to join us? A lot of people in the village miss her." Naroka looked at Lumian and asked with a smile.

A lot of men, you mean? Lumian proceeded to ignore her question and ask his own, looking curious. "Naroka, I heard you saw a real Warlock? The one whose coffin even nine oxen couldn't pull."

Naroka's expression changed slightly.

"Who told you that?"

"His grandfather came back at night and told him." Lumian began making things up.

Naroka froze for a moment.

"Can souls really come home...?"

"My father told me. Grandfather talked about it when he was alive." Raymond couldn't stand watching Lumian deceive an old woman.

Naroka actually seemed a little disappointed. After a long while, she said, "Before that man died, none of us knew he was a Warlock. He behaved quite normally."

Just as you don't know Aurora is a Warlock... Lumian replied inwardly.

"Until he suddenly died, and that owl flew over..." Naroka sank into her memories.

The rest of her account was essentially the same as the legend.

Lumian pressed further. "Where did that Warlock live?"

Naroka glanced at him.

"Right where you and Aurora live now.

"After that Warlock was buried, the parish priest at the time took a few people with him to remove the valuables and burn down the house. For twenty or thirty years, no one dared go near the place. Later, people gradually forgot about it. Then Aurora came, bought the land, and built a new house."

Our home? Lumian's heart jolted.

That answer was completely unexpected!

In an instant, he thought of several questions he usually overlooked.

With Aurora's ability to make money and her hidden supernatural abilities, why had she settled in a rural place like Cordou Village?

Whether it was the provincial capital, Bigos, the textile center, Susie, or the capital, Trier, all were better choices. Even if she wanted somewhere with pleasant surroundings and good air, those major cities had suitable neighborhoods to choose from.

Aurora once said the best place to hide was in a big city... Lumian's thoughts churned, refusing to settle.

Only today had he learned that the plot Aurora had chosen, the land on which she had built their house, had once belonged to a Warlock...

"Where was that Warlock buried?" Raymond, standing beside him, couldn't help asking.

There was no hope of finding any valuables from the house. All that remained was to see whether there was anything special about the Warlock's remains.

Naroka said with amusement, "Something that serious was bound to draw the parish priest's attention.

"Back then, everyone used nine oxen to pull the coffin into the cemetery beside the church. The parish priest performed a ritual to purify it. In the end, they burned the body to ashes and dug a hole to bury them."

"Oh..." Raymond couldn't hide his disappointment.

"Why are you asking about all this?" Naroka studied his expression for a while before asking.

Lumian chuckled and told a truth that sounded more like a lie.

"We want to find the Warlock's treasure."

"Young people shouldn't spend all their time fantasizing," Naroka admonished.

"All right." Lumian behaved very obediently.

He and Raymond said goodbye to Naroka and took the road toward the village square.

"There's no hope, Lumian. There's no hope of getting anything out of this." After they rounded a building, Raymond spoke dejectedly.

"True. Everything that could be burned was burned, and everything that could be taken away was taken decades ago." Lumian nodded.

Since an opportunity had arisen regarding his dream, he was relatively less disappointed.

Raymond agreed. "Yes. The only thing in the whole legend that wasn't destroyed was that owl."

"The owl..." Lumian's eyes lit up, and he turned his gaze toward the wooded mountains outside the village.

Raymond shuddered and hurriedly added, "But after all these years, it must have died long ago."

He was deeply afraid of coming into contact with an evil creature like an owl.

In southern Intis, owls, nightingales, and crows were all considered ominous, evil creatures that served the devil, often carrying away human souls or bringing misfortune.