Chapter 57: The Beautiful Serpent

At the same time, in Hearthfire Bay, Blackwater Town.

Horn waited anxiously in front of the town. A full day had passed since the upheaval in the imperial capital. By rights, he should have been sent to the gallows by the enraged head of his household by now. However, following a vote by the Council of Seven, the council had reached a decision: to dispatch someone to negotiate with Heisenberg, and he, quite naturally, had become the representative of the empire.

The situation had long since slipped beyond his control.

Yet Heisenberg had not shown up yesterday; he had waited the entire night at the entrance of Blackwater Town, only to return empty-handed in the end. Tonight, however, he finally caught sight of that figure clad in the worn-out robes of an elemental mage.

"Oh, you're still alive! Grandfather, who loves frequenting houses of ill repute!"

Catching sight of the old steward, Ethan waved at him from afar. "Well, are you satisfied with the magic scroll I sold you?"

Upon hearing this, Horn's anger flared up instantly, and he blurted out, "A freezing slide, a frost forest, and a giant frozen bird—is this what you call a Frost Arrow?!"

He still felt a lingering fear just thinking about it, especially the second magic scroll torn open by Miss Anna, which had frozen an entire neighborhood solid. The Silver Fox was still lying in the hospital; aside from his physical injuries, high-tier physicians believed that the frost element had disrupted the mana pathways in his body, and repairing them would likely take several months of recuperation, with complete recovery remaining an uncertainty.

Horn gripped Ethan's arm emotionally and shook it. "Your spells are simply too dangerous! Do you have any idea what would happen if something went wrong and made the young lady a murderer? The entire family would be implicated in the end!"

It was precisely the absence of any casualties that led the council to believe further engagement with Heisenberg was possible, though Horn found it hard to imagine how a spell encompassing an entire neighborhood managed to avoid harming the citizens of the imperial capital at all.

As a result, Miss Anna had been grounded. Because of the commotion kicked off at the barracks, Isok was reconsidering the engagement, and the master of the house was so consumed with rage over the matter that he couldn't sleep, smashing things around the residence and completely losing the decorum expected of a nobleman.

Yet, in Horn's view, this might not necessarily be a bad thing.

"That's impossible. If I went around getting clients killed, how would I stay in business?"

He shook off Horn's grip and said, "That being said, your young lady should have already used the scroll. Let me guess... that 'evil mages' was severely injured and won't be able to return for at least several months. Aside from that, not a single unrelated resident was injured by my spell."

Ethan was a professional magic scroll crafter who fulfilled orders based on the identity and requests of his clients. What that young lady had received was the Frost Arrow (Fairytale Special Edition), and large-scale casualties clearly did not align with the theme of a "fairytale."

Horn froze.

Even the recovery time of the Silver Fox was within the other party's calculations.

"As long as the client strictly follows my instructions, unexpected situations will never occur. Elements are far more trustworthy than humans."

This was why Ethan had written nine Frost Arrow scrolls. He naturally took into account the client's age and level of understanding regarding magic, so upon the three foundational concepts of "leaving home," "combat," and "escape," he had detailed his requirements as exhaustively as possible.

"No wonder, no wonder..."

Horn muttered to himself. Several years ago, he had also been fortunate enough to witness that existence whose name must not be spoken. When Miss Anna had curiously inquired about knowledge pertaining to elemental conjurers, that person had once uttered the exact same words.

No wonder the council attached such great importance to Heisenberg. In fact, if the person standing before him were not a man, he would almost have believed the folk rumors that the witches were still alive.

Pulling himself together, Horn produced the prepared letter of invitation. "As agreed, this is your compensation."

The invitation was edged with gold, and its cover featured a soaring griffin—this rare magical beast served as the totem of the Rofick Consortium.

"Though theoretically I shouldn't pry into a client's privacy, if possible, I'd like to know more about that expeditionary force. You mentioned last time that they were assigned a suicide mission."

Ethan said, "I can pay you intelligence fees at Hearthfire Bay's market rate, but I don't have much money on me, so I hope to use magic scrolls as payment instead."

"No, that is not what I said."

Horn's expression shifted slightly as he instantly grew alert. He stared hard at Ethan, correcting him, "I said, 'that child is most likely not coming back.'"

This was entirely different from the expeditionary force having been given a suicide mission. Although the nobility involved in the matter all knew what was truly going on, speaking of it so nakedly to an outsider was an entirely different story.

Sending the Empire's Knight-Commander and the Kingdom Army's elite to their deaths—if that charge were ever substantiated, no one could weather the consequences.

On the surface, a crisis had arisen on the imperial border, and it was entirely reasonable for the Knight-Commander of the Empire to lead troops to investigate. Even if envoys from the Nhaseril Sanctuary were to arrive, they would find no flaws in the protocol.

What terrified him even more upon deep reflection was: why did Heisenberg suddenly want to inquire about this matter?

"Mr. Heisenberg, whatever your purpose might be, please heed my advice and stop investigating further. This is for your own good."

Horn's tone was earnest.

"If it's inconvenient, never mind then."

Ethan waved a hand. "Since the transaction is complete, let us part ways here."

Perhaps he could gather some information in Blackwater Town itself.

Horn wanted to say something more, yet found himself at a loss for how to phrase it.

And he, acting as a puppet manipulated by the council, could not reveal too much to the other party. Every piece of information concerning the empire had to be reported upward. The Pope had summoned him personally, leaving a certain mark upon him and offering the subtle warning that in future dealings, he would do well to become a puppet manipulated by the empire, casting his personal will entirely behind him.

Perhaps maintaining a certain distance from Heisenberg was the best outcome for both parties.

Meanwhile, almost the moment Ethan stepped through the gates of Blackwater Town, he was met with a warm welcome.

"Mr. Heisenberg, your reputation precedes you."

Approaching him was a woman clad in black leather. The leather wrapped tightly around her skin, leaving no inch exposed while simultaneously accentuating her graceful curves. Fully aware of her assets, the woman made no effort to conceal her stunning figure. She wore a red masquerade mask and possessed a pair of alluring, vertical purple pupils.

A lamia.

The three words formed in Ethan's mind almost instantly.

She issued an invitation to him. "It's your first time here, isn't it? Let me show you around the town."

"No, thanks. I'm broke."

Ethan immediately stated his stance. Besides, he had pressing matters to attend to and had no wish to wander into some bizarre establishments by accident. His partner, the Shepherd, had mentioned more than once that the waters in this town ran deep, brimming with illegal transactions within the empire and plenty of "lively" entertainment.

The lamia was momentarily startled before she smiled. "You certainly know how to joke. When a distinguished guest like you arrives in Blackwater Town, we naturally wish to treat you properly. You may call me 'Rattle.' Besides, you seem rather interested in that imperial expeditionary force, don't you?"