Stown University…
"Miss Smin, what exactly is this notebook?"
"We don't know exactly. We only know it's from the Twenty-Year War and is part of Associate Professor Michel's collection. One important characteristic is that the patterns on the cover faintly form a giant dragon." Smin didn't conceal anything and completely disclosed all the information she had.
Audrey listened quietly. While restraining her chestnut mare, she was already contemplating in her mind how to accomplish this mission: "Visiting Associate Professor Michel to view his collection and offering to buy one of the items isn't too difficult of a task.
"Although I hate to admit it, from whatever angle you look at it, the chance of him refusing me isn't too high. Hmm, Audrey, don't rely too much on this…
"The biggest problem with this approach is how abrupt it is. I don't even know Associate Professor Michel, so it would be hard to explain why I suddenly want to visit him. Moreover, I don't know what that notebook means to him. Making a rash request to purchase it might bring me suspicion and caution.
"…Jane's brother studies at Stown University. At the last gathering, he showed a tendency for liking to talk and discuss. If I invite the siblings for afternoon tea again and steer the conversation toward history, archaeology, and collecting, he should bring up Associate Professor Michel. Hmm, a university probably doesn't have too many people who can be called collectors.
"With such a prelude, I can send someone to visit Associate Professor Michel and request to see his collection. Then, on the first visit, I'll do my best not to reveal my needs, observe the host's attitude, and guide him to reveal his true stance. This will help me convey the right request in the right way at the right time…"
Having decided on a course of action, Audrey nodded to the female priest Smin and smiled slightly: "I'll do my best, but I can't guarantee success."
As soon as she finished speaking, she tightened her legs and squeezed the horse, shooting out like an arrow, charging towards a reddish-brown fox that was nimbly dodging and weaving within the hunting circle.
................
On the turbulent sea, the "Blue Avenger" was like a leaf swept into midair by a fierce wind, sometimes flung up, sometimes falling, yet maintaining an astonishing balance without any sign of capsizing.
Inside the captain's quarters,
After an unknown amount of time, he descended, his feet landing on the carpet.
'"Wind-blessed" really is a Sequence that can be acted upon simply based on its name. The only problem is that occasionally I have to make myself irritable to match the characteristics of a gale…' Alger sighed in his heart without much joy.
Over the past two months, he had failed to obtain the formula for "Ocean Songster" through his own channels or trades within the
Normally, joining the corresponding church or organization was the most effective way to obtain such a formula. However, Alger, a bishop of the Church of Storms, couldn't rely on this path. Due to certain secrets, he had to conceal his true strength in exchange for freedom of action and loose surveillance, so that he could go to a certain place and accomplish a long-awaited goal when he was confident enough.
What pleased him was that he hadn't wasted these two months. At the very least, the digestion of the "Wind-blessed" potion was progressing well.
'"Wind-blessed" is simple, but "Ocean Songster" is said to have considerable difficulties… Does that mean I have to sing often?' Alger couldn't help turning his head to look towards the deck.
Although separated by several rooms, he could still hear the ecstatic singing of a drunken sailor, creating a noise that could rival the sound of the storm.
Alger unconsciously furrowed his brow.
................
"Miss, aren't you a magician? Why are you dressed like that?" a young boy asked with confusion, looking at the woman before him who wore a pitch-black pointed hat and a dress of the same color.
I don't know why I dress like this either. Maybe that very first time, my head was frozen stiff by the cold weather, and it just became a style… Fors touched her face, smeared with red and yellow greasepaint, and smiled in response: "In ancient times, tricks were often mistaken for witchcraft."
But this has nothing to do with why I dress like this… She picked up one of the three large ceramic cups in front of her and upturned the white ball underneath it.
Then, rapidly exchanging the positions of the cups, she smiled at the boy who had just questioned her.
"Guess which cup the ball is in?"
"Isn't this one of the gambling methods invented by Emperor Roselle?" the boy said with interest. "But you're not a dealer, you're the circus's trick master. So, I bet you've already switched the ball, and all the cups are empty!"
Fors smiled.
"Congratulations, you're wrong."
She abruptly picked up the middle cup. A white figure suddenly burst out from inside it.
It was a pigeon!
And the original ball lay exactly where the pigeon had been!
"Oh!"
"By the gods!"
"What a beautiful trick!"