Werewolf Hunting Rules.

Chapter 574 One Step at a Time

“It seems we must part ways here,” Angel Redbeard said to Ser Franklin. “While I dislike the Bronzefoot and Firestarter clans, your actions have gone beyond the bounds of law enforcement. I must say, you are a scoundrel!”

Because of a suspicion, Sir Franklin mobilized the local army and sealed off the dwarf community of St. Alwyn for a day and a half.

The soldiers drove all the residents out, then squeezed into the houses and ransacked them, but they couldn't find the Book of the Earth, as if the knight had made a mistake.

However, Franklin didn't believe he had made a mistake, and the dwarves' expressions proved that something was indeed amiss. He decided to continue the blockade. With his power, he could impose a half-month lockdown; the collective lack of food and interruption of income might change the dwarves' minds and force them to hand over the Book of the Land.

Franklin also showed annoyance at Angel Redbeard's criticism, but not for her sake.

The knight understood her feelings, so her dissatisfaction was not unexpected. What he found truly unbearable was that she reminded him of the dire situation the search was in.

He has the right to blockade this dwarf community, but that doesn't mean he can easily bear the consequences. Franklin's claim that he would blockade it for a long time is just a scare tactic. If the dwarves here are really determined to resist, he actually has no way to deal with them.

Dwarves have a low social status, but they almost monopolize miner positions. If things escalate, the miners' association might petition for protest.

Damn politics, it rendered all the knights' courage and privileges useless.

“They left me no choice,” he coldly replied to Angel Redbeard, adding that even if he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t let anyone know he couldn’t.

Are you serious?

"If you have a better idea, then speak up."

The dwarf snorted, her gaze sweeping through the narrow alley. Soldiers were guarding the entrance, preventing even passersby from passing through.

She knew her people very well; there were definitely all sorts of secret passages underground in this community, and the surface blockades wouldn't stop them at all. Doing so would only make them more vigilant.

Whether what Franklin wanted was originally here or not, it is most likely no longer here.

But she didn't want to tell Franklin about it. In the land of the Plainsmen, any construction could only be carried out on their own land, and these underground projects, judging from the map, exceeded the boundaries and were definitely illegal. But for the Moriel people, the above-ground and the underground were two different worlds, and human rights could not overstep their bounds there.

"Go find whoever told you the Book of Earth is in the hands of the Earth Mother Cult."

Franklin sighed, glancing regretfully at the dwarf community. Although he didn't want to do it, it seemed there was no other way.

He just hoped that Clayton Bello would continue to be well-informed.

“Alexander. No, your crotch is empty, perhaps it would be better to call you Alexandro.”

In his backyard, Clayton Bello circled the horse he had taken from the street, trying to give it a beautiful and grand name.

After a night of intense fighting, the stone horse he named Alexandra finally calmed down. Although it was not yet a proper mount, it finally understood that Clayton was also powerful and had no ill intentions, so it stopped trying to bite him. Now it would curiously wander around the boundaries of the mansion, sniffing the servants who passed by, and occasionally breaking a few floorboards under its feet.

It's getting used to it here.

At dawn, Clayton first bathed Alexandra with the gardener's watering can and brush, and then spent half the morning braiding her mane into a series of small braids, making her look very elegant.

The next step is to wax and polish the entire horse, a step that is not usually done on horses.

Clayton Bello did not let the grooms or maids do this work; he preferred to do it himself.

Alessandro's physique resembles that of a warhorse, but because the sculptor who made it wanted it to look more imposing, he made some artistic modifications, increasing its size to that of a heavy draft horse. Its speed is not that of an exceptional steed; given the distance of the Sasha racetrack, it would likely be left behind by the other horses in the race at the start of the third and final lap. However, its stamina is quite good; if the rules were to run ten laps, Alessandro would be in first place.

It took a lot of effort to catch it yesterday. Clayton's strength is equivalent to at least nine average-sized adult men, but before catching it, it still took fifteen minutes to wear it down along with fourteen other very strong men and Julius.

This was not its limit. When Clayton faced it in werewolf form, it unleashed even greater strength and stamina than it had during the day due to fear.

However, Clayton didn't really expect much from its fighting ability. He was content that it could carry him and run without fear of him.

While Clayton was tending to the horses, more guests arrived. Upon hearing their names, he hurriedly instructed his servants to bring the two guests over: "Come and see my new horses!"

Franklin, with his hands behind his back, observed Alexandra with a reserved air: "What a fine horse, it's a pity that few people in our country understand horses."

“Luckily, I saw another one here,” Clayton said cheerfully.

Angel didn't join in the two men's mutual flattery. Like other dwarves, she knew nothing about horses; dwarves were better at riding sheep and pigs than horses. Her pupils widened as she and Clayton recognized each other, but at this moment, they had nothing to say beyond basic greetings.

Clayton and Franklin chatted about horses for a while before the High Rock Knight got to the point—he wanted to know where Clayton Bello had gotten his information about the Earth Mother Cult, and who had told him that the Book of Earth was in their possession.

“Nobody told me anything. If you ask me why I think the book is in the hands of the Earth Mother Cult, I can only say it’s based on some seemingly unrelated details and a bit of deduction,” Clayton said. He told the knight the story of Mr. Ashir being deceived by the followers of the Earth Mother Cult, and also mentioned the Earth Mother Cult’s recent missionary work.

For a long-dormant religious group to revitalize itself, it must attract investors with sufficient financial resources.

The Earth Mother Cult needs to proselytize, and the most important part of proselytizing is demonstrating miracles.

The miracles of the White Church can create light and heal the wounded, and the Earth Mother Church, lacking an equivalent holy order, must possess a wondrous object to demonstrate its doctrines. Coincidentally, the dwarves, the main body of the Earth Mother Church's followers, are also engaged in the business of fetching stolen goods in Saint Alvin. If the drunkard Charlie, who stole the Book of St. Earth, wants to quickly exchange a treasure he cannot control for money, the book is very likely to end up in the hands of the dwarves.

To be honest, the latter half was pretty much what Franklin had imagined. On the one hand, he was impressed by the werewolf's keenness, but on the other hand, he was disappointed that the other party did not have an accurate source of information.

“I previously encountered a female vampire who was also investigating the Book of Earth and knew you.”

Clayton looked at Alexandra with satisfaction, his gaze sweeping from her erect ears to her sturdy hooves. At this moment, he was neither surprised nor flustered by anything; such emotions were superfluous.

"Oh, that lady, I really know her, isn't she very friendly?"

Franklin tried to understand Clayton Bello's languid tone: "As a criminal, she is indeed quite friendly, but I hope she doesn't commit any crimes. Disrupting law enforcement and transferring stolen goods are both illegal."

Clayton nodded repeatedly, absentmindedly: "You're right. I'll bring a few jugs of milk next time and try to persuade her to stop committing crimes."

"Why bring milk?" Franklin asked in surprise.

“Milk and blood have many things in common; milk possesses enough vitality to nourish newborns and can alleviate a vampire’s blood addiction.” However, it’s not as effective on werewolves. “If she’s full, she probably won’t go out.”

"She sounds like a wild animal, but I think there's a big difference between vampires and wild animals. Do you know who she works for?"

"do not know."

"Do you know how to contact her?"

“Not lately, I’ve been trying to contact her, but I can’t find her.” Clayton’s eyes were full of his new mount, and even his “unfortunate” sounded cheerful: “I say, why are you in such a hurry to get to work? The event only lasts a few days. Why don’t you try participating in the horse race? Although the list has been drawn up, I think the City Life Committee would be happy to give you special treatment as a distinguished guest like yourself.”

"It's a pity that the High Rock Knights are all foot knights, and I'm not good at horsemanship either."

Franklin flatly refused, feeling that he had made a wasted trip.

Just as he was about to take his leave, the parish clock began to chime. The chimes echoed through the mansion, striking eleven times in a row. Clayton looked away from his horse and reached for the long-handled warhammer disguised as a cane on the chaise lounge beside him.

Jazz couldn't help but place his hand on the hilt of his sword as well.

“I’m sorry, it’s time. Please forgive my poor hospitality, but I have to go now,” Clayton said, mentioning [The Builder].

Are you going out to run errands now?

"Yes, you have to pick a good time to do things, especially matters of life and death, you have to be careful to get lucky."

Franklin and Angel both thought of the same possibility.

"Are you going to duel someone again?"

Some people choose to duel at noon, when the sun is directly overhead, providing equal lighting for both duelists without favoring either side.

“One of my younger brothers has a grudge against that drunkard Charlie, but he can’t do the job easily on his own, so I have to reluctantly help him out and create a fair environment for them.”

"Do you know where drunk Charlie is?" the jazz priest exclaimed, alert.

Clayton's face showed a strange expression: "I just got a lead not long ago. You know, these career criminals offend a lot of people. Maybe he can't even remember them all, but there are always some people who are willing to keep an eye on his situation, even to the point of being disgustingly detailed."

Franklin hesitated for a moment, then lowered his hand from the hilt of his sword.

“Mr. Bello, there’s no need for farewells. It seems we should go together.”