Baal came to the manor shortly after the butler’s departure.
“I sent someone to ask for the biggest-a*s scholar they can find. But nobody can tell us anything about that ‘Pocratee’ place. Not even the seasoned professors in those academies.
“But sir, I wouldn’t have come here empty-handed, heh heh. One of my men saw this snake thing somewhere the other day, so he told me. Following his lead, I finally got someone.”
Baal boasted his little merit and continued his story.
The lackey he mentioned saw the exact “serpent on rod” picture from somewhere… or at least, a very similar picture.
After proceeding from there, Baal found a certain woman. The woman had a small clinic whose flag showed that emblem on it. According to her, it was her grandfather who saw the emblem from an ancient book in the central library. It seemed that the emblem often appeared in medicine-related files, probably because there were doctors who considered it as certain totem of belief. The old man found it interesting and decided to keep the emblem, which was somehow passed down.
“Too bad her old man kicked it some years ago, and she can’t remember which book has that emblem. I’ve sent my men to the library, sir, and they didn’t find anything like that yet. Trust me; we’ve gone through every medical book. I think it’s either lost or sealed away inside the secured section for the really old tomes,” Baal said as he rubbed his chin. “It’s probably the latter. I mean, who the heck wants to steal a medical book?”
“What old section?” Angor noticed something interesting.
“It’s a locked chamber where they preserved the old books, located under the central library. No one gets inside without the director’s approval,” Baal said. He shook his head. “F*ck those old nutheads. I tried, sir, and they just wouldn’t let me in.”
Angor nodded. He understood that old scholars tended to insist on certain disciplines. It was a stubborn but effective method in the preservation of human wisdom.
“I see. You can leave this matter,” Angor said, and he decided to look into this matter by himself later. “Ahem, another question. Do you know any famous teachers that teach young children in Water Grasse?”
Baal couldn’t answer him right away. Water Grasse was a giant city with tons of different professionals, and teachers for children were usually seen as someone insignificant, so Baal never paid attention to them.
“I’ll go ask around right away, sir.”
…
Baal was pretty fast. Soon enough, he returned again and handed Angor a small booklet, which contained the names of all the teachers of several famous elementary schools in the city.
Angor opened it and noticed there were even retired teachers in the book.
He asked Baal to leave so that he could carefully look through the names.
Most schools were still in sessions, and he didn’t want to interrupt anyone, so he chose to search among the retired ones.
After checking their career reviews, he shortlisted a number of names as well as their addresses. He then left Bay District.
When the dusk arrived, Angor returned to the mansion with a gentle-tempered old lady, who was wearing a pale blue skirt.
Her name was Trusan. Angor chose her after careful comparison, and he found her to be a kind-natured and neutral-minded woman with a regular lifestyle. She was also the only former teacher who was willing to accept a full-time job currently.
After arranging Trusan’s lodging, Angor took her to Dodoro.
“As I said, Dodoro has forgotten almost everything. Common knowledge, how to communicate… Nothing’s left. Apart from looking and walking like a man, he’s basically a newborn kid. So… please.”
Trusan looked at Dodoro, who was bigger than herself. She then put up a worried look. She was too old to restrict the behaviors of a naughty kid.
However, she gradually relaxed when she noticed the innocent gaze that came from Dodoro’s eyes.
She had educated too many children in her lifetime. Children with various characters. She knew how to read them through their eyes and apply her tactic accordingly.
Yet she never saw such a pair of innocuous and untainted eyes. Just watching Dodoro’s expression made her feel safe and calm.
It would be a great pity if such a “clean” soul remained uneducated.
“Rest assured. I’ll do my best,” Trusan said as she smiled sincerely.
Angor nodded. “I will not interfere with your sessions. You may tell him, but do not force him to learn some of the extreme concepts, and don’t trigger his forgotten memory, as it might cause him secondary trauma. As for the rest, you’re free to do whatever you find proper.
“How to paint this fresh paper is up to you.”
…
Trusan never held any fixed classes. Instead, she took Dodoro out, and they did many different things, such as sightseeing in the wilderness, embracing nature, and having picnics. In the meantime, she also taught Dodoro the necessary knowledge along the way.
She occasionally brought Dodoro into the bustling city and told him about the stories of mankind and their daily lives. Even though Dodoro never showed many reactions, Trusan kept telling her stories as if she were Dodoro’s true grandmother who never got tired. The stories sounded redundant sometimes, but they did a perfect job in teaching Dodoro how to use words correctly.
Once, Angor followed behind Trusan for an entire day while using Infinite Reticence. He was content with her means of teaching, so he decided to leave the pair be. He would only talk with Trusan about her progress during dinner.
The day grew darker.
Inside a large manor located at the outskirts of Water Grasse, Leonrick paced back and forth anxiously. He would sip some wine every now and then before he started to pace around again.
His daughter, Margot, sat in front of the table while she held her chin, seemingly thinking about something.
This was what the mistress of the count’s manor, Cyndia, saw when she came to the great hall.
She looked at the butler who was in charge of serving wine. “How long have they been like this?”
The butler lifted two fingers and whispered, “Two hours, my lady.”
Cyndia scoffed at Margot and joined Leonrick. “What are you worrying about? He accepted your letter. Whether he comes or not, we’ve sent our regard. Besides, it’s not time yet.”
Leonrick moaned. “You don’t understand. If he’s really a wizard, the whole Zeal Dominion won’t stop him from doing something terrible.”
“He didn’t do anything, right? You worry yourself,” Cyndia said as she dragged Leonrick to a seat. “Stop thinking nonsense and wait. We can’t let that mister see you drinking while walking around like a fool.”
Leonrick nodded. He surely didn’t want to smell like alcohol in front of a great being.
But he couldn’t help it!
A standing clock announced that it was 8 o’clock in the evening, which meant it was half an hour away from the time indicated on the invitation letter. According to conventions, guests would usually arrive at such a time.
That sir is probably on his way… if he means to come. Leonrick thought.
A manor guard entered through the wooden door of the hall.
“My lord, the guest is here.”
“He is?”
“He is!”
Leonrick and his daughter exclaimed at the same time, but with different emotions—surprise and joy.
Cyndia and Leonrick stared at Margot.
“I-I-I just—”
“Stop,” Leonrick interrupted his daughter. “Once you apologize to our guest properly, get back to your room and stay inside.”
Margot looked about to cry. “But father! What do you mean? It’s not polite to leave in the middle of dinner!” She winked at Cyndia while complaining.
Usually, Cyndia would help her daughter in different situations. Today, however, she chose to side with her husband.
Margot’s intention was so obvious in the eyes of this couple. It was natural for a young girl to pursue a companion. But… this was not a proper companion!
She had spent a week “muted”, and she still hadn’t learned how to read the situation!
Before Margot could protest further, they heard footsteps approaching.
A team of knights walked inside, and they split into two lines. They placed their spears down on the floor in unison, removed their helmets, and went down on one knee.
As a visitor walked into the hall, they bowed down their heads one after the other.
A way of salutation that was only meant for honored guests.
Between the two lines of knights, a young man with black-and-white checkered overcoat walked in with steady steps.