A brave man may not live, but he cannot die

Chapter 156 The Pizza Girl's Arcane Festival Dream (2)

"Will you win?"

Quinn asked expectantly.

"It will win."

Ankuya nodded calmly: "After today, the Demon Clan will rule the world, and you can go back to your hometown to get married—"

“No, buddy—” Quinn’s expression changed drastically, and he pointed at someone like a husky: “You can’t say that, you know.”

Why?

“In my hometown, saying ‘getting married back home’ is like planting a flag; saying it is basically the end of your life,” Quinn corrected. “I’ll teach you a more trendy way.”

"?"

Quinn held out his palm, gesturing for him to extend his as well. Ankuya hesitated for a moment, but ultimately chose to comply.

Then, guided by Quinn, the two clasped hands, rubbed their hands together, bumped fists, elbowed each other, and finally clasped hands and bumped fists again.

They have a great sense of tacit understanding.

"Great!" Quinn nodded in satisfaction. It was impressive that he could be so fluent on his first try. This fancy fist bump routine would usually take most people a while to learn.

“What does this mean?” Ankuya asked.

“The best partners’ fist bump, huh? In my hometown, there’s a superhero called Spider-Man. He and his roommate bump fists like that.” Quinn paused for a moment, a strange emptiness welling up inside him. Was it because mentioning 'Spider-Man' reminded him of that mysterious fellow townsman?
"interesting."

Ankua commented that this shady guy was too sensitive to refuse and wouldn't touch her a second time.

After having breakfast, the two left the mansion one after the other.

After assassinating the hero, once the academy has truly identified the suspect, this house will likely become one of the few remaining clues—Ankuya made no preparations to say goodbye to his old colleagues, and the life of this highly anticipated elite of the school administration will come to an abrupt end.

In his words, the next time they meet will be on the battlefield.

Ankuya headed towards Seville, while Quinn took the sheet music to the station. Apart from his evening mission, his only plan for the day was to accompany Celia around.

The reason he said he "had work at the academy" was that he didn't want to mention Celia in front of Ankuya. As the Child of Prophecy, Celia would definitely have someone protecting her if she wandered around the city, which would make him a target as well—but Quinn didn't care, his Grindelwald wizard robes would save him a lot of trouble.

Does Celia actually know her true identity?

How did Aqua discover the girl's true identity? Was it through the academy?
"Newspapers for sale! -- Newspapers for sale!! -- The Eswell and The Times --"

As the morning light bathed the streets, the energetic shouts of newsboys echoed from the roadside. The streets were exceptionally lively today. Children wore new clothes, shop windows were adorned with colorful lights, and the flags of the Arcane Association of Eswell and Tamulan fluttered in the streets and alleys. Quinn bought a newspaper for sixpence and read it as he walked.

The headline was naturally the Arcane Festival, a major holiday in Axwell, but there were also many other big news stories: Just last night, King Aaron of Britain denounced Duke Lawrence for deceiving the king, forming cliques, and associating with wanted former officials. He has now ordered the lords' armies in Lawrence Province to assemble on the spot, and Lawrence himself to go to the capital, Lontinium, immediately to attend a hearing in the Royal Court.

The British national newspaper, The Times, only mentioned the matter on the last page, as if it were just a minor political change, while the headline still called on all eligible citizens to go to the ruins of the old royal city to pull out the holy sword.

However, the Eswell newspaper, which was not under the control of the British government, bluntly pointed out that the Duke of Lawrence could not possibly accept the order, and that given King Aaron's recent mad temper, a civil war in Britain was imminent if he refused to obey.

In addition, there are some unsubstantiated world news stories, such as refugees claiming to have witnessed a Philippine Empire warship on the western continent battlefield; the disappearance of Reg, the vice president of the Adventurers' Guild, with the guild posting a missing person notice, and his last known location being a small town on the western continent coast; and the suspected invasion of the powerful northern continent nation of Letania, with refugees breaking through the Misty Sea blockade.
Quinn initially developed the habit of reading newspapers because of the Holy See, but later he began to pay attention to news about heroes—once the Holy See found a hero, they would immediately publish the news to the world. Unfortunately, those who followed the newspapers because of the hero probably wouldn't live to see his arrival.

He brushed past a couple who looked like siblings or lovers. The girl was about the same height as Lin, but not nearly as pretty as the little girl. However, the smile on her face, as she enjoyed the festival, was very genuine. Lin probably couldn't express such emotions.

Looking back now, it's only been a little over two months since I first met Lin and our relationship gradually improved.

During this period, he was initially surprised that there could be such a strange person with this personality. To put it nicely, she was a girl with no desires; to put it bluntly, she had a mental illness. She cared about nothing except eating, was without desires, and had no expression, as if human desires did not exist in her.

But Quinn gradually got used to it. Perhaps it was because he entered society too early. Even though he was not keen on social interaction, he had the ability to get along with all kinds of people. After realizing that the other party was a hero, his doubts about his personality turned into thinking - why would a transmigrator have this kind of personality?

It wasn't until yesterday's conversation that Quinn realized he had been limited by the stereotypes created by Earth's works—that a time traveler is not necessarily a shrewd and successful person, but could also be an old man, a student, or even an infant in swaddling clothes.

Lin likely belongs to the latter category. She must have transmigrated at a very young age, and her memories of Earth are just a vague past. Perhaps it was the transmigration that affected her young soul. Coupled with her childhood living in an environment like Grindelwald, it is quite reasonable that there would be such a strange and lonely witch in that desolate mansion hidden in the forest mist.

The inscription on Merlin's tombstone suggests that the heroes of history likely knew each other and had connections on Earth, perhaps as friends, relatives, or something else. Nalin, as a hero summoned by nature, may have been the same, but she was too young before she traveled through time, so even if she knew them, she probably wouldn't remember anything. The clue ends there.

From the very beginning, when Quinn met the Demon King and was forced to take on this inexplicable mission, he wondered if he would ever actually kill the hero. At that time, Quinn had no aversion to killing a stranger from another world. In his mind, it was no different from killing a chicken with a stranger's soul. But as he integrated into this world, Quinn felt more and more that the people of Temuran were no different from Earthlings.

They are all human beings.

Even if the people in this world possess extraordinary powers, and some have animal ears or furry tails, they are still human beings, eating, sleeping, and struggling to make a living just like Quinn. Thus, the act of "killing" becomes more tangible.

Even though it wasn't the first time he'd done something like this, he still felt a pang of pity for the little girl he'd been living peacefully with for over two months. If he set aside his obsession with returning to Earth, Quinn had no reason to kill Lin. He was in the Demon King's camp against his will, and he had no affection for the Demon King who viewed humans as pigs. On the contrary, Quinn was eager to see how the Demon King would die by the hero's sword.

But
Regardless of the gold used as an excuse, and regardless of the choice he was forced to make, from the moment he saw that ambiguous soul in the abyss, Quinn made up his mind to go back.

If he could travel back in time, he would still do it.

However, the approach will be somewhat different.

No longer so obsessed with hatred.

He was never a good person; he was just repeating what he had done in the past. Ankuya was right; it was nothing more than a pointless emotional outburst.

This time, however, Quinn couldn't help but wonder if, if he had a future, he would regret this friendship that lasted only a little over two months and could hardly be called a friendship.

He walked past a square church. In a city full of ornate European architecture, this gray cement box-like building, devoid of any ornamentation, seemed quite out of place. Yet, a sense of asceticism and seclusion emanated from the gaps in the exterior walls through which light filtered in. A huge ancient dragon totem was carved on the roof, and a bronze bell hung at the entrance—it was the church of the dragon of eternity and time.

There were no fences, no lights, no signs. The believers who passed by were as poor as beggars, yet as devout as the wealthy. At ten o'clock in the morning, the ten chimes of the bell, which no one shook, spread like waves, filling the city's world.

The church was bizarre, like a postmodern architectural style. At first glance, it was square, but in reality, it was divided into different facets by slits used to let in light. Through the slits, Quinn saw someone he had seen last night—Celia's adoptive father, the bookish middle-aged tavern owner.

He stood with an old priest in a long robe, under the light and shadow of the dragon totem, calmly conversing. The next instant, the tavern owner's gaze moved like a hawk, meeting Quinn's eyes as he passed by outside the church.

Quinn nodded slightly, treating it as a chance encounter and a greeting, and then left as if nothing had happened.

Inside the church, the old priest noticed that his words had stopped, so he looked out the window, but found nothing. The city outside was brightly lit and bustling with people, so it was normal for someone to be spying on the church.

As the bishop of the city church, he was naturally a clergyman blessed by the Dragon Lord. However, clergymen are different from superhumans. Most of the time, they are no different from ordinary people, lacking the powerful physique and keen senses of superhumans.

On the contrary, the stronger the mental power of an arcanist, the stronger their so-called sixth sense will be, enabling them to react to malicious spying like a superhuman.

"Horus, what's wrong?"

“Just now, Celia’s teacher passed by.”

Anyone who follows British politics, or is familiar with the older generation of prominent figures in the arcane world, will certainly be familiar with the name "Horus"—one of the three prodigies of Grindelwald's generation, and currently the most wanted man on the British government's wanted list, Horus, the former chief arcane mage of the British court, known by the Arcane Association as the "Sage of the Dragon"!

No one has called him by that name for many years.

The priest nodded.

"Grindelwald's teacher? You know him?"

"No, I don't know him."

Sunlight filtering through the cracks in the dragon lord's totem fell on Horus's face, making his gaze somewhat profound. "It's quite rare; someone not trained by the academy itself. Yet, he just so happens to be Celia's teacher."

"That class division system?" The priest realized what he was talking about. "Isn't class division determined by that label? Is there something wrong with this person?"

"That hat isn't fair, but very few people can communicate with it." Horus shook his head. "He was the one who saved Celia when she was almost corrupted by the abyss. I asked many old friends about him, and it seems that he was someone who got in through the school administration. Principal Hermes takes good care of him."

"Isn't that a good thing? Grindelwald rarely thinks highly of outsider arcanists. Could he become an asset to His Highness?"

“No.” Horus’s tone was somewhat confused. “This person gives me the feeling of…a superhuman. As for helping Celia, forget about it. You know the Academy doesn’t interfere in politics.”

"But the academy has still protected you and His Highness all these years, hasn't it?" The old priest gently closed his eyes and entered a state of reverie and prayer.

"This is the will of the Dragon Lord. Grindelwald's mages may not believe in God, but they still cannot defy the manipulation of time."

Horus withdrew his gaze from the outside world; Quinn was already far away. Today was the Arcane Festival, so it wasn't unusual for academy teachers to be out in the open.

"Perhaps. The year I graduated, Harry had just enrolled. We weren't really close. I was just trying it out back then, and I even planned to run away to Fairford if the house didn't approve. I didn't expect him to actually agree, and he wasn't surprised at all that I brought Celia to him."

"Heh." The bishop opened his eyes and said, as if joking but also warning, "You always call him by his first name. Don't forget that he is the monarch you will serve and kneel before in the future. You must not lose your sense of awe."

"To you, she is the child of prophecy," Horus retorted with a grin. "But to me, she is the daughter I took in and raised from a baby. She hasn't even accomplished her great ambitions yet, and she's already trying to intimidate me into recognizing my place?"

"Of course not."

The priest bowed slightly as an apology.

"Your merits will be remembered by the sect. No matter how His Highness treats you, a hundred years from now, you will be a saint recorded in the scriptures and enshrined in eternity."

"Thank you very much," Horus said coldly.

The priest, unwilling to clash with Horus, steered the conversation back to the main topic.

"Did you tell His Highness the truth?"

“I told her last night before going to bed.”

"What was His Highness's reaction?"

"She thought I was joking." Horus covered his head with his hands, mimicking the bewildered expression of a girl lying in bed: "'Me? The Child of Prophecy? How could that be? Did the Dragon Lord choose the wrong person? Haha—haa? Father, don't be silent. Don't scare me!'"

The priest commented, "A very optimistic attitude; he's capable of great things."

"She probably didn't sleep a wink all night," Horus sighed softly. "I didn't want to hide it from her for so many years, but Aaron's power is too strange. I'm afraid the wizards of the North are helping him. In the field of divination, even 'cognition' can become an anchor point for searching destiny."

“It’s alright, no rush. There are still a few months for her to accept and understand this.” The priest was also optimistic. “When she understands and accepts hatred, the key to the new era will be in our hands. This time, the hero will no longer belong to the Church of Light.”

"I hope so."

"What is Your Highness doing now? Knowing the truth about her origins, has it motivated her to study arcane arts even harder?"

"Um, it looked like she was learning how to do makeup before I left?"

".?"

(End of this chapter)