The Laws of Werewolf Hunting

Chapter 545 The Heartless

The circles of nobles were very small, and socializing with their peers was the most important way for them to maintain their reputation.

To maintain a respectable image, nobles had to maintain a considerable expenditure: fine clothing, jewelry, houses, servants, snacks, wine reserves, children's education, horses, and dogs.
The vast majority of nobles sought advancement only in the court; they looked down on other professions. Even if they lacked funds and had to sell their ancestral property and assets, they insisted on remaining in the social circles of the nobility, hoping for their own opportunity to arrive.

The man who came to buy and sell his ancestral property in the form of rusted silver coins is a typical loser.

In Sasha, the most prestigious aristocratic social circle is right around Sir Jonard. This lord is happy to mentor ambitious young people, especially nobles. Nobles who can't make it in his court can only be considered useless.

But this worthless person is still a descendant of the strong.

Among the antiques he had given away, which were full of rusted silver coins, the three of them found the rare object they had been longing for.

It was a complete enamel tea set, including six cups and a teapot.

Through testing, they discovered that when cold water was poured into these containers, the water temperature gradually rose to a pleasant level, similar to that of a summer stream.

It's completely useless.

It's very valuable.

Completely aristocratic luxury goods.

“This tea set alone could buy a pharmacy,” Clayton said confidently, based on an estimate he had read about in the past.

"Wait." Charlotte's voice trembled, and her expression suddenly became extremely excited. She left the two of them and rushed downstairs alone. Clayton and Julius were both confused by her actions. In less than half a minute, she rushed back with several newspapers, pointing to the news on them and asking them questions.

"These are real too?!"

Clayton and Julius exchanged a glance. Although Clayton had warned her to be careful more than once before, they were no longer going to hide it from her. The return of the Dark Moon was a foregone conclusion, and it was time for those close to them to know the inside story as soon as possible.

“It’s true. Right now, there are only some changes with limited threat, but who knows what the future holds.” Clayton toyed with his teacup. “I suggest you don’t go out tonight; the next wave of menopausal symptoms…”

Charlotte interrupted him: "Mr. Bello, I would like to borrow five hundred, no, eight hundred pounds from you!"

Now it was Clayton's turn to be surprised.

It wasn't because yet another person had asked him for eight hundred pounds, but because Miss Charlotte's situation was unprecedented.

"Miss Charlotte, what do you need so much money for?"

"Look!" Charlotte excitedly spread out the newspaper for him to see: "Aren't the escaped stone horse, the biting pot, and the moving steps also strange things?"

“Only useful things are called rare items; useless or even harmful things are generally classified as cursed items,” Julius said.

“But aren’t antiques just useless things?” the assistant retorted, then picked up the cup she had just inspected: “It can heat up cold water a little, but what’s the use of that?”

Clayton's expression was strange: "You want to capture wild exotic creatures?"

She was just a moment ago someone who knew nothing about the real world, and now she's catching cursed items to sell for money; the speed at which her thinking has progressed is astonishing.

Charlotte nodded readily, though she was seeking Clayton's help, she revealed a resolute attitude that refused to give up.

"I always thought you would stick to working in your field of study."

“It is now too.” Charlotte, like a child grasping a snowflake for the first time, stared intently at the cup in her hand with wonder and innocence: “This is the blank space left in the book by true history!”

As he left the rusted silver coin, Julius couldn't help but look back one last time.

“You might find it a little funny that she’s so easily captivated and smitten by the world you take for granted. But not everyone has what you have.” Clayton spoke up for Charlotte beside him.

Julius turned around: "I don't look down on her because of this; I respect her."

"That's unexpected."

"Perhaps you have never been moved by a moment when you gained knowledge and your understanding of the world was further enhanced."

Clayton sighed, leaning on his cane, "It happened before, but I can hardly remember the moment."

"pity."

"It's a pity, but thankfully you can still feel it."

Julius fell silent. He didn't know how to respond to such an old man's words; even Groene had never said anything like that.

Clayton added, "Charlotte has always had a good eye for business, and I relied on her a lot in my previous business."

“If she were to condescend to borrow money from me, I would find no reason to refuse,” the wizard said.

Clayton nodded in satisfaction.

He had complete confidence in Charlotte's mind; as long as she spoke, even the most useless things would become valuable and meaningful. Fortunately, she had principles, and fortunately, this was the antique industry, which the poor couldn't afford.

Julius brought up another matter: "Your injuries have healed, when do you plan to hold the curse-binding ritual?"

"Actually, I'm a little hesitant now."

"for what?"

“I’m worried I won’t be able to control my appetite and my reproductive urges,” Clayton admitted.

The former is easy to understand, but the latter requires some explanation.

The reproduction he referred to was not just natural reproduction, but also the spread of wolfsbane. The desire to contract wolfsbane was more unbearable than the lack of women.

In the past, werewolves without clans would kidnap children from villages and towns to their dens to satisfy their reproductive desires, then pass on their wolf blood to these children. Those who survived became offspring, while those who didn't became food.

Drawing upon the power of his ancestors will inevitably intensify these desires, making him even more dangerous—not just to outsiders. Moreover, with the return of the Dark Moon, the symptoms of his loss of control are bound to worsen.

“There’s a cursed doll called Vahtu that might help you,” Julius said. “Vahtu means ‘disappearance.’ It sucks away appetite and fertility and is considered a form of magic created by demons. Some wizards make Vahtu to harm their enemies. When these enemies are possessed by Vahtu, their life-sustaining desires leak out through the openings in their souls created by the Vahtu. If they cannot obtain the wizard’s forgiveness, they will soon weaken and die.”

"However, while its power is lethal to ordinary people, it can actually be an asset to you."

“I need one,” Clayton said.

"I can't make this kind of thing, but I know who can."

"Who?"

Elder Cheryl.

Clayton looked troubled.

You probably don't know her, do you?

“I don’t know her. My parents just taught me not to disturb people who are reading, and Elder Cheryl seems to have been reading the whole time.” Many things can be considered important, but in Clayton’s eyes, reading is the most important of all.

A strong gust of wind blew in their face, and Julius raised his hand to press down on his hat: "I'll deal with her. If you want to see her in the future, just visit her directly. Immortals don't care about wasting time."

"She's immortal?" Clayton raised an eyebrow in surprise. There were such rumors in the Elder Council, but he thought it was just an exaggeration.

"She is a figure from at least a thousand years ago, who was once watched by the Green Man's god with all three pairs of eyes at the same time, and the trajectory of time in her life became disordered ever since. One second she may be a young girl, and the next she may be an old woman. Even if you pierce her heart with a sword, the time period in which she is killed will soon be replaced by another time period."

"Will this alien god never reappear?" Clayton asked cautiously.

“Oh, I hope He can sleep for a few more centuries.” Julius shrugged. “Don’t worry about that. There’s more than one other god. ‘Entities should not be multiplied unnecessarily.’ Since they no longer appear, just pretend they don’t exist.”

He continued to explain to Clayton, “Elder Cheryl’s immortality certainly comes at a price. She cannot control the power. Apart from immortality, she is just an ordinary person and suffers from intermittent amnesia. To treat her amnesia, she reads constantly, hoping that when she draws cards during her amnesia, she will only draw irrelevant information.”

"So she was able to become an elder entirely because of her knowledge?"

Julius confirmed this. "Pretty much, most of the time, what she remembers is correct, but you know, even writers can't guarantee their work is error-free, and amnesia sometimes extracts parts of it, making the knowledge incomplete."

“Then I really need to pray for her, and for myself,” Clayton said.

They walked to where the horses were tied and prepared to ride away. Clayton's purpose in going out today was not only to help Charlotte, but also to fulfill the memory-selling job that Julius had previously introduced.

But Franklin, the High Rock Knight whom Clayton had met in a duel, was now riding towards him.

This chance encounter was unexpected. When the knight saw him, he greeted him and then continued riding toward the rusted silver coin.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Clayton said. Instead of untying his horse, he turned and walked back, with Julius following him.

When they returned to the store, Franklin was showing Charlotte his warrant, and from behind, the spurs on his boots gleamed.

“Mr. Franklin, I’m the manager here. What’s going on?” Clayton asked, and Charlotte looked over gratefully from behind the counter.

Hearing the familiar voice, Knight Highrock turned around: "Yesterday, a nobleman, Sir Penson, came here to pawn his ancestral property. After that, he died. His throat was slit not far away, and all his belongings were looted. At the same time, an important item that the Penson family had kept for generations in this land has gone missing. He was last seen here, so I came to investigate whether he left that item here."

"I thought you were here to investigate the Rogue Knight."

Franklin's tone was somewhat helpless: "Indeed, but your mayor, Mr. Kunti, considers this matter to be of great importance, and the Knight of High Rock has an obligation to assist him in recovering that important item, so I had no choice but to stay."

Clayton tapped the ground with the Builder: "We just sorted through what he sent, and if that important thing is with us, I'd be happy to hand it over."

“That’s a book,” the knight said.

Clayton glanced at Charlotte, who looked blank, and then looked away.

"Unfortunately, Sir Pence left behind many things, but not a single book."

Franklin looked into the werewolf's eyes and nodded. "Based on the thorough preparations you made for the duel last time, I believe you are not lying to me."

Without hesitation, he folded the warrant and carefully stuffed it into the small bag hanging at his waist, looking as if he was about to leave.

"However, you should be careful, there may be people who don't think that way."

“What do you mean by that?” Clayton asked.

"I have caught the murderer of Sir Penson; he is a professional hitman. Through some means, he told me that a mysterious person hired him to find the book. Sir Penson was determined to leave the city, and he had left all his luggage at the hotel. The murderer checked the luggage first and, finding no book, chose to rob Sir Penson directly, but Sir Penson did not have the book on him either."

Sir Franklin spoke slowly and deliberately, as if he were recounting a story he had heard from someone else.

“When I caught him, he had already handed over all the information he had gathered to that mysterious employer, so…” He didn’t continue.

“I don’t mind getting a little more blood on my hands,” Clayton said coldly.

"That's perfect."

Sir Franklin was about to leave when Clayton called him back.

"Sir Franklin, did you find a heart among Sir Penson's belongings?"

Franklin's usually calm tone finally betrayed a hint of surprise:

"heart?"

Charlotte realized as well: "We have a heart box here that doesn't have a heart inside."

“Interesting.” After a moment of thought, Franklin gave a genuine smile. “I will focus my investigation on this.”