Chapter 1276: Section 1277: Night Crisis
The old scholar, Parsha, was leaning by the window, holding a tobacco pipe and puffing away. He had quit his smoking habit a long time ago, but because of the recent refugee crisis, in which many things were stolen and he lived every day in fear and anxiety, he had taken up smoking once again.
Recently, the war had temporarily ceased. The refugees had been sent back, and his mood had brightened considerably. His anxiety was gone, but the addiction to smoking had not.
In the past, his old friend Dim would nag him to quit smoking, but after the last event… when Young Master Pat created that magical rain of light, almost all the ailments of the people in Gru Town were cured, Dim had also picked up smoking again.
So now, neither of them advised the other.
Feeling the warmth from the fireplace and exhaling a thick puff of smoke, Parsha displayed a contented expression.
In the depths of winter, this is how one should enjoy life!
...
While Parsha was enjoying his leisure, his gaze suddenly shifted to the window.
The room was filled with smoke and dust and snow swirled outside. He couldn’t see very clearly, but from the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a line of people?
Parsha furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “George has warned so many times, why are there still people out so late? And after dark, with the cold weather, who would be wandering the streets?”
With his curiosity, Parsha set down his pipe, breathed on the foggy window, and then wiped it with his old sleeve.
When he looked through the now relatively clear glass, a flicker of puzzlement crossed his eyes.
Outside, three figures passed by, each emanating a strange aura. Amidst the falling snow, they had a strong presence.
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“One of them looks a bit like Young Master Pat,” Parsha stood up, opened his front door, and looked towards the street.
But when he stuck his head out to take a closer look, he found that the three figures had already reached the end of the street, leaving only vague shadows in the snowstorm.
“Did I see wrong?” Parsha rubbed his temples, picked up the oil lamp on the nightstand, and prepared to go outside for a check.
However, just as Parsha was about to leave, a tiny figure suddenly jumped down from the ceiling, kicked off the wall, and with the rebound, landed atop another table.
“Old Parsha, smoking inside the house is bad enough since we’ve planted trees that absorb the smoke, but opening the door in the middle of the night, are you trying to freeze us to death?” complained a dainty voice discontentedly.
Parsha turned around irritably, “Goldie, how many times have I told you not to imitate Dim? Call me Grandpa, understand? You really have no manners.”
Although his words contained reproach, Parsha’s eyes softened as he looked towards the small girl on the table, no bigger than a palm, dressed in a flower-patterned dress.
Parsha glanced outside to make sure no one noticed the situation indoors before closing the door, “Quickly, go up to the attic. It’s so cold down here, aren’t you afraid of catching a chill?”
Faced with Parsha’s concern, Goldie felt too embarrassed to continue making a fuss, “I was asking why you opened the door and took the oil lamp. Are you planning to go out? Chief Kulamiao of the Kulakuka Tribe warned you, didn’t she? She said it’s dangerous to go out at night, why don’t you believe it?”
“I know, I know,” Parsha locked the door as he spoke, “You all keep saying it’s dangerous outside, but what exactly is the danger?”
Chief Kulamiao was the leader of the group who called themselves the Kulakuka Tribe, brought to the town half a month ago by Viscount Lyon himself. They lived in two batches in the attics of Sheriff George and Parsha’s.
During these half a month of living together, Parsha grew very fond of these “fairies in the attic”. Perhaps because he had lived alone all his life, now old, having companions, even just to talk to, made him very happy. Moreover, these attic fairies were very understanding and even helped with domestic affairs, proving to be very trustworthy friends.
However, Parsha had a few puzzles regarding these new friends; first, they seemed to have been brought by Young Master Pat and now, for some reason, Viscount Lyon had sent them away from Pat Manor; second, Chief Kulamiao often warned him not to go out at night because of the danger. Even Sheriff George patrolled the streets every day, telling the townspeople not to go out at night; why was that?
These questions Parsha had asked several times but never received a response.
Each time he asked, all the Kulakuka Tribe showed looks of terror and kept silent.
Now, as he asked again, Goldie’s response was the same. With a distant look in her eyes, she merely said, “You should leave that matter alone, curiosity killed the cat.”
After speaking, Goldie prepared to head upstairs.
However, Parsha sighed, “Didn’t you just ask me why I opened the door? I thought I saw Young Master Pat returning from the window just now, so I wanted to go out and confirm.”
“Young Master Pat?” Goldie suddenly halted, turned her head sharply towards Parsha, and anxiously asked, “Are you sure it’s Young Master Pat? Which way did he go?”
“I’m not sure, but there were indeed three people who passed by outside. One of them looked very much like Young Master Pat,” recalled Parsha. “Looking at the direction they were heading, it seemed as if they were walking towards the manor.”
“Young Master Pat, the manor, at night… Oh no!” Goldie muttered to herself, then leapt from the stairs to Parsha’s shoulder, “Quick, open the door, we’ve got to stop Young Master Pat!”
Parsha looked confused, “What exactly happened?”
Goldie hesitated for a moment, but then said, “The manor is very unsafe right now.”
…
Angel and his companions stopped a few dozen meters outside the manor, where the boundary of bloody light lay ahead. For mortals, this layer of blood light was invisible, but they could feel it vividly.
“Is that our destination ahead? It seems rather dim,” White Bear knew he was about to meet his kin and was much more composed than before.
From his perspective, there seemed to be the shadows of buildings within Pat Manor, but no lights, in contrast to the well-lit Gru Town behind them.
Angel could confirm that at least when he departed, the manor under the night sky in Pat Manor was the brightest place in Gru Town, because of the family motto “Lionheart’s Flame, never extinguished.” Thus, all the lamps in the manor were lit throughout the night. If any went out, servants would relight them immediately.
Now, the manor was pitch-black, obviously very abnormal.
Angel looked at Sanders.
Sanders’s expression was calm at the moment, only his brows slightly furrowed, his deep eyes staring ahead as if he was gazing at a giant beast lurking in the darkness.
“Mentor, have you discovered something?” Angel asked.
Sanders didn’t immediately reply but pressed down on the brim of his hat, his gaze directed toward a certain spot in front of them.
Angel’s eyes followed suit, and he saw a small tree beyond the manor, now covered with heavy snow and seemingly insignificant… but then, a gust of wind blew over, shaking off some of the snow from the tree, revealing its trunk was pitch-black.
“A withered tree that has been burned?” Angel felt for a moment, it seemed it wasn’t a natural fire. Some fluctuations of fire energy remained on the withered tree.