Chapter 96
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 96
“This is all we have of the teacher’s belongings.”
The wolf received a heavy bundle.
“She brought nothing with her from the start, they said. Only the winter clothes she was wearing. We found this beneath the floorboards of the room where she stayed.”
For some reason, Theresia had dug deep into the earth beneath her room to hide the items. If the men hadn't been searching under the floorboards for raiders from the attack on Hoyeonjae, they never would have noticed the freshly disturbed soil. Finding it would have been nearly impossible otherwise.
“We didn’t translate what was written. We haven’t had the time, and I had no desire to pry into her personal records.”
The wolf opened the bundle on the spot. He unfolded a dirt-stained, old notebook. On the first page, written in the Norfolk Common Language, were the words:
It appears that Peter, who survived, stayed here. He used James’s name as an alias.
“Is she indeed your family?”
The wolf looked up from Theresia’s notebook. A cold sweat traced a path down his spine as he spoke.
“Yes… she is.”
At the wolf’s words, the Head of the Han Family’s expression turned sorrowful. He glanced back at Theresia’s grave and asked, “What was your relationship?”
“She was my sister.”
He nodded, his tone becoming more polite.
“Thanks to your sister, many lives were saved. I would like to express my gratitude to you, at the very least. Please, stay here for a while.”
The wolf remained silent. The Head of the Han Family studied the man’s dazed expression for a moment before turning away.
“Then, please take your time. I shall head down first.”
Once the Head of the Han Family left him to his privacy, the wolf hurriedly began flipping through Theresia’s notebook. With every page he turned, his face grew paler.
Written inside was information that absolutely should have been reported.
Peter's daughter is here. Her real name is Han Raon, but she goes by Han Seo-ah.
The wind at his back felt unnaturally cold, sending a shiver down his spine. With trembling hands, he turned a few more pages.
Surveillance is tight. Vigilance against foreigners is extreme, making it difficult to report. A few servants in this household claim to have seen Peter with a golden key. I suspect it is the Pelfe Bank vault key, but I cannot find it. I believe the Head of the Family is keeping it.
Flipping rapidly through the notebook, the wolf let out a sharp gasp, then glared at Theresia’s grave with resentment.
“Senior, why on earth did you…!”
But the dead do not speak.
The wolf stuffed the notebook into his bag and ran down the slope. Catching up to the Head of the Han Family in an instant, he asked urgently, “Could I meet the person my sister taught?”
“I am sorry, but that is out of the question.”
“Just to see her face for a moment…”
“It is out of the question,” the Head of the Han Family repeated, his tone firm.
“Then, would it be possible for me to see where my sister stayed?”
Fortunately, he did not refuse that request.
“It is here.”
Following a servant’s guidance through a wooden gate, he was led to a large house enclosed by high walls. The uniquely styled home carried the distinct chill of a place that had not been lived in for some time. The wolf scanned the interior with sharp eyes, but he could find no traces Theresia had left behind.
He stayed at Hoyeonjae for a few days, hoping to gather information. However, the suspicion surrounding him was so intense that he failed to obtain any clear intelligence. He could only deduce that the woman suspected to be Peter’s daughter was no longer on the estate.
A few days later, he left Hoyeonjae and went to a bustling inn not far away. Sitting quietly and observing the patrons, he called over a young boy who worked there. The boy approached hesitantly and muttered, “I don’t speak the foreigner’s tongue.”
“I can speak your language.”
He covertly revealed a heavy pouch of money. The startled boy’s eyes widened at the sight.
“I have a few questions. Can you tell me what you know?”
The boy glanced nervously at the innkeeper, then subtly used his body to block the money pouch from view.
“What is it?”
“Do you know of the foreign teacher who lived at Hoyeonjae?”
“Ah! The teacher who served the Youngest Miss? Of course! A tall woman with red hair and green eyes.”
“Was there anyone who was close to her?”
“No one I know of. She was serving the Youngest Miss, so it was hard to even see her face outside. Wouldn’t the people close to her be inside that household?”
“Is the Youngest Miss’s name Seo-ah? Or Raon?”
The boy gasped and looked around hurriedly.
“You shouldn’t go around speaking the Youngest Miss’s name so carelessly.”
“Do you happen to know where this Youngest Miss is right now?”
“Where else would she be? She rarely goes outside, so she must be inside the house.”
At the boy’s indifferent reply, the wolf tied the money pouch tight and tucked it back into his coat. Seeing this, the boy swallowed hard and slipped into the seat beside him. Pretending to be busy, he whispered rapidly.
“This is just something I heard, but… you know the day Hoyeonjae caught fire? They say the Youngest Miss disappeared that day, too. Apparently, people are searching all over for her.”
“Is that all?”
“But some people say they saw the Youngest Miss boarding a ship crossing the great sea. She’s quite striking, so she stands out easily.”
The boy looked anxiously at the wolf, who had listened with a blank expression, and begged for at least half the money. The wolf warned him to keep his mouth shut and handed over the pouch as promised.
The Outsider soon stood up. Pulling his hood low, he stepped out of the inn, his expression as dark as a moonless night.
Every second counted. If he wasn’t careful, his own head would roll. The image of Simon von Bernheim back home—that red-eyed devil—loomed in his mind.
‘What were you doing all this time without contacting us? Having fun?’
The thought was chilling.
Heading to the nearest branch, the wolf extracted only the most critical information and encrypted it. He wanted to send Theresia’s entire notebook, but that was impossible; the message had to be small enough to be tied to a sparrowhawk’s leg. Though they lived in an era where goods moved by rail, the fastest way to send news across continents was still by bird.
The sparrowhawk would fly to a designated location and pass the message to another, allowing the information to reach Luxen faster than any other means in existence.
“What is it? Why the rush?” another wolf asked as he released the sparrowhawk.
The first wolf tried to reply but found himself unable to utter a word.
Theresia Wittgenstein betrayed His Excellency.
The information was enough to make his hands shake. The thought that his head might actually roll made his heart nearly stop.
“I’m heading back to the homeland first. Get me the fastest ship available.”
“What’s going on?”
“Don’t ask. Just hurry.”
Sensing his colleague’s urgency, the branch wolf nodded and disappeared. Left alone, the wolf placed a cigarette between his trembling lips and stared in the direction the sparrowhawk had flown.
He felt as if he were standing in the eye of a raging storm, yet the day was clear and sunny.
It was a perfect day for a sparrowhawk to fly. The hawk carrying the information would cut through the clear sky to reach its destination, and from there, another hawk would take to the air.
In this manner, the information would travel along the skyways toward Luxen. Riding the air currents, it would diligently cross rugged mountain ranges and deep, treacherous seas.
Its final destination was Luxen, right into the palm of its master, Oscar.
This was all before the Wolves sent by Oscar had even arrived in Danguk.
* * *
Crazy bastard.
Oscar muttered to himself, his face buried in the back of her rounded head as he tried to catch his breath. It was a phrase he had already whispered dozens of times today, but now, he wanted to say it with particular self-derision.
She had cried out at the peak of her pleasure but now lacked the strength to lift a single finger.
With every breath he took, her distinct scent, mingled with her warmth, filled his lungs. Her skin felt as smooth and delicate as a peeled peach against his palm. He could feel her soft body rising and falling languidly against his own.
He was holding her from behind, her head pillowed on his right arm as she lay on her side. Of course, if he described it that way, Seo-ah would likely make her characteristically embarrassed face. Her watery brown eyes would widen slightly, and her lips would part without a sound.
Just the thought of that face, ridiculously, sent a familiar tingling through his lower abdomen. Blood rushed, and he felt himself stiffen below. Sensing him swell against her, she—who had been lying completely limp, barely breathing—spoke in a flustered tone.
“You said… that was the last time…”
Letting out a dry laugh at his own absurdity, Oscar released his hold on her and propped himself up on his elbow. Their tangled lower halves came into stark, naked view.
Sensory pleasure usually dulled with repetition, but the feeling of being inside her was different. That was why he couldn’t stop.
Remaining on his side, Oscar smoothly pulled his hips back. He felt her tight, delicate muscles contract snugly around his shaft, which had already found release several times over.
The woman, who had no strength left to even moan, merely trembled, but her depths told a different story.
“Ha…”
Oscar let out a languid sigh, staring down at the limp woman who lay with her back to him. It looked as though red flowers had bloomed all over her body—on her prominent shoulder blades, the curve where her neck met her shoulder, and even the rounded earlobe peeking through her disheveled hair.