Sangfroid had been growing anxious ever since Vladstin stopped personally visiting the survivor's camp. It has been 5 days since then, and days seem to be slower and draining somehow now that Vladstin wasn't around.
The next three lines he got was:
'Despite being banished and stripped of my royal rights, my father let me keep the Amulet of the Dracon, the symbol of the Ilvedian king, my birthright. The one who wears it shall always be, according to the laws of both old and new, the rightful heir to the throne. He told me that the royals believed a curse will be put to the kingdom if the amulet went into the wrong hands, and so I entrust it to you, my dear Gaug'in.'
Sangfroid cannot discern what this amulet has to do with everything. The 'curse', maybe? Was the 'wrong hands' referring to King Casserome? But the downfall of Ilvedia is a direct result of his wrongdoings, not some 'curse'.
He really can't understand what this parchment had to do with anything at all. It's unfortunate that the true king, this man who's writing to Gaug'in, was replaced and none of this could have happened. But then again, even if they had a benevolent king, would he have been able to meet Leron? King Casserome would not be betrothed to the third princess of Faldenhorf, and so... Leron wouldn't be born at all.
This line of thinking is just adding to his headache, and he decided to focus his mind on finding solutions to the problems in the survivor's camp. They're getting closer to the ruins of Crescentia, but the living conditions are just getting worst. The people's morale is low and many distractions are slowing down their travels. Every day, someone dies and has to be given a proper burial.
In this busy state, Sangfroid barely came back to his tent at all. He did not check the glass again knowing Vladstin would not hurt Leron. He doesn't have a drop of Vladstin's blood to make it work anyway, and he's too ashamed to ask for some when Elenore delivers the next line of the passage.
Another thing that has been burdening his mind is his secret about where to find the missing pages of the Book of Xendros.
"Can't we just try all sorts of weapons and holy objects onto the damn monster!?" He overheard one of the Huntsmen say as they did their morning hunt.
The other Huntsman smacked him on the head. "If you want to risk everyone's life, sure! It's too risky, that monster is too powerful! If those methods fail, we'll just aggravate him and he'll kill us all!"
"I know that! But if we continue like this too, nothing will happen! We'll keep living in fear until all of us die from diseases or grief!" The Huntsmen sighed. "If only we know more information about him or vampire lords."
"It's too bad that Father has to die so soon. He could have asked the Holy Mothers to give us a vision that may help."
At the mention of the Bishop, Sangfroid's heart grows heavier. He convinced himself that the Bishop was not against his decisions anyway, and understand why he had to keep things to himself. He steered his horse to another direction from the two Huntsmen and went back to look for a deer to shoot.
"Howdy, Chief." A voice greeted him out of nowhere.
Sangfroid looked down and it was actually Zenon, one of the loudest and rowdiest bunch of the Noble Huntsmen. Sangfroid vaguely remembers that Zenon was the one who asked him what he will do once he get to see the Hermit.
Zenon was 4 years older than Sangfroid. He was no higher than 5 feet and a half, but he was densely built that his Huntsman uniform was almost threatening to burst from his rippling muscles. He had a mole on the outer corner of his eye and wavy hair that he personally styled to be wild and unruly. He walked with a swagger, whistling with his arms on the back of his head.
"Where's your horse?" Sangfroid asked.
"Daisy's not feeling well today, I gave her some time to rest up. I can handle myself, my legs may not be the longest in the group but I have the will to run fast if I want to." Zenon stretched his arms and yawned. "Man, the early morning is really cold, Chief. I barely got enough sleep, I'm still feeling pretty sluggish and I haven't had breakfast yet."
"I agree." That was all Sangfroid could say. He wasn't really good at small talk.
"So, what you lookin' for today?" Zenon asked.
"A stag. I saw one for a brief moment but it run away."
Suddenly, they finally saw a stag rushing through a clearing, and Sangfroid prepared to shoot. But as he did so....
The frantic stag made an abrupt turn and is threatening to impale Zenon with its large antlers!
"Watch out!" Sangfroid yelled to him.
Zenon heard this and sidestepped. But it was too late. The branch-like horns still managed to graze him by the waist!
"Urk!" The formerly laidback Huntsman fell to the side, clutching the wide gash on his shirt and flesh.
"Zenon!" Asver saw what happened and rushed with his chestnut mare towards them. Sangfroid immediately dismounted from his horse and tore a piece of his own clothes to stop the bleeding on Zenon's side. "Is he going to be alright, Chief?"
Sangfroid applied a small amount of pressure and waited for a few moments. Zenon gave a colorful array of curses to his attacker and the deer just jogged away without any care, vanishing into the thick trees of the forest. "I love all creatures of God, but that dog-shit son of a demon---"
"Don't move too much." Sangfroid reminded him. "The bleeding isn't stopping."
"We don't have any medical expert with us. I can't see the others." Asver looked around with a worried frown. "Will he make it?"
Zenon groaned but still managed to act stubborn. "Of course, I'll make it! This is nothing, really! Help me up so I can chase that horned little devil myself!"
"Those are called antlers, Zenon. And you're not looking well to be chasing anything soon. Your lips are pale." Asver said, the hood blown by the strong gust of wind revealing his rat-nest red hair.
"I don't care what they called, and I don't care what you say! I WILL kill that bast---ARGH!" Zenon curled up from the pain.
"Do not move." Sangfroid reminded again, this time his tone was firmer. Zenon finally relented and stayed still. Sangfroid looked with his one eye towards Asver and said: "In my tent, there are herb potions there to stop immense bleeding of wounds. Please fetch it for me."
"Yes, Chief! I'll get it right away, just you wait, Zenon! Don't die!" He galloped with his mare back to their current settlement location.
"The hell I won't---FUCK!" Zenon whined, almost tearing up. "Hey, Chief.... Ain't those the herb potions made by the bloodsucking pest---I mean, the Vampire Lord? Can I trust it?"
"It cured me when I had scurvy, so I believe it would." Sangfroid assured him. "I hope Asver will find it fast. May the Dragon Lord guide him so there will be no further incidents on this day."
--------------------
Of course, there was another incident that day. That incident being the child with the weasel stuff toy, Asvian.
Asvian was playing around when they saw Asver with his horse almost zooming right into one of the tents. Asver clumsily pulled the reins. "Easy, girl!"
He got down and hastily tied the mare to a post, then continued to run. The unseen Asvian followed him. "Where are you going, Uncle Asver?"
"I need to get to the Chief's tent and find some medicine for our injured comrade." Asver explained to them, wind running on his auburn hair.
"But I want to play house with you and Auntie Lillian." Asvian pouted, easily running past him. He spread his arms and said. "Weasely need the secret password for you to pass!"
Asver gently pushed the kid away. "I'll play with you later, Asvian. Just not now. This is important. I'm not good at finding things, so it might take a while for me to look for the potion and I really need it fast."
"Then I'll join you!" Asvian's flipped the braid that Lilian made for them to the other side while jogging gleefully. "I'm good at finding things!"
"Ok, ok! Just don't get me into trouble." Asver soon reached Sangfroid's tent with a huff and opened the partition. "Now where should we start...."
Asver soon opened all the drawers and closets to look for the herbal potion. He was really bad at this, because Sangfroid's things are already few in numbers yet he still can't find the damn thing.
Meanwhile, Asvian made the stuff weasel 'sniff' around like some kind of missing object sensor, and finally said. "Look, I found something!"
"What is it?" Asver's eyes widened and he turned to see what Asvian is holding.
"It's Uncle Sangfroid's used socks." Asvian took a sniff. "His feet smell a whole lot better than yours, like lavenders."
"Don't meddle with his private stuff, Asvian." Asver was disappointed and continued rummaging through drawers. "What we need to find are the herbs."
"Hmm, I think I found it." Asvian said and showed him the small tin case. "Here."
Asver opened the can and it really was the potion. "Ah, so you really are good at scouting after all!"
"I also found this strange book under the bed." Asvian showed the big locked vellum book out of nowhere.
"Hey, why did you take that!? That's Sangfroid's diary!"Asver took the book from the fast-handed child and it sprung open! "You unlocked it!?"
"Yeah, I used the pin you gave me to fix my bowtie." Asvian admitted, not thinking they did anything wrong at all.
"Ugh, I should have never taught you lockpicking!" Asver scratched his head. "We can't just invade the Chief's privacy like this."
"But aren't you curious? I'm pretty curious about the kind of things the Chief will write in this book. I never even thought the Chief writes." Asvian flipped several pages.
"Hey, stop that---" Asver scolded them, but his eyes fell on a certain phrase.
'...vampire lords' graves, which may reveal some truth about their existence, strengths, and weaknesses....."
"What is it? Did you find something cool?" Asvian took a peek.
Despite all his respect for the Chief, Asver's curiosity overpowered him and he started reading that certain page from start to finish.
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