The door was clearly locked, but when the old man pushed it open by himself.
"Are you a wizard?" Char opened his mouth and followed to look around the room, but before he could see, the old man turned and stared at him fiercely.
Char was stiff and could not move a finger.
"Who ordered you to come, to pry into my privacy?" The old man's voice hit the shire head-on, knocking the shire dizzy brain swelling. His eyes drooped, he had a large white beard, his forehead was wrinkled, and he was bald except for the back of his head.
"I was just passing through." Shire tried to explain.
"Your soul is filthy and tainted with the breath of evil." The old man looked at Shire. "Get away from the child, monster."
He found Graddiu? So soon?
"No, it's not." Char shook his head. "Sir, I'm a demon hunter!"
"Your soul has strange shapes and colors, and I already hate it." The old man complained, "As a result, you are a demon hunter, which makes me doubly disgusted."
'I'm sorry. I shouldn't have wandered outside your room.'
"Do you think apologizing will make it all better? It's not that simple." The old man frowned. "Be honest." Then he turned, took something out of his arms, and put it on the work table.
Shire now had time to look at the room, which was a terrible mess, with things scattered about in a haphazard manner, without any order at all. The shelves where books should have been were cluttered with jars, doodles, and chunks of minerals. In the corners were things like pianos, puppets, and bones. Empty wine bottles, dishes with food scraps, and a few pieces of clothing were stacked. There were several tables, each laden with books and letters, and thick self-bound parchments, and on the stone walls long nails were driven irregularly, and from each nail hung a hat of a different color and pattern.
It's a mess. Charles feels like he can't stay here for a second, that Gladius is fooling him, that this is a garbage room. Char was not in the mood to rummage through the clutter.
"Who are you?" The old man picked up a large piece of bread, leaned back against his workbench, and chewed on the shire, rather noisily as he ate.
"I am Char."
"Where's the Shire?"
"Nowhere. Demon hunters don't say where they came from."
The old man frowned.
"You must be from somewhere."
"From a small village." Charles saw that he persisted, and had to go on, "Charles Graney of Berol."
"Home is the place that will always hold us. You can't turn your back on it." "Said the old man.
Oh, really? If I go back to Berol, I won't know anyone. Shire sighed in his heart. His parents sold him to traffickers, the people in the village just watched, and his playmates were ordinary kids who never wanted to leave Berol.
"I know." Still, on the surface, he had to accommodate.
"I am Draco of the bog."
Just outside the Loman border is the Everglades, a vast expanse of marsh that goes by many names, the home of witches, the land of witchcraft. It goes by a variety of names, but most people call it the White Swamp because of the endless funeral flowers that grow there, a plant that grows on dead bodies, and the endless white flowers that grow on the surface of the lake whenever travelers pass by. The body dump swamp, as the locals call their home, is closer to reality.
"Nice to meet you." Shire is a man of manners.
"Lucky, you're done." Draco was swearing.
Char thought for a moment.
"I can do something for you, Mr. Draco, to make up for the wrong I've done, if you pay me."
"Pay?" Draco was not pleased. "You've been wandering around outside my room, and now you want me to pay?"
"Because I'm desperate for money, and I'll do anything if you'll give me some. A wizard like you must need a lot of help."
This made Draco laugh.
"You? What can you do?"
"I can do a hunter's spell, and I can use a knife." Charles motioned to Draco for his weapon. "A demon hunter can do anything."
"Who taught you your spell?"
"Etienne."
'Oh! Draco nodded with a look of sudden realization. "Etienne... Etienne... Are you his apprentice? What a coincidence."
"You know my master? That's great." At least there's some wiggle room.
"Your master has been working against me for the past few decades." Draco's face fell.
"Huh?"
Draco, as if thinking of something to make him depressed, put the bread in his hand into his mouth, turned away, and poured himself a glass of wine.
'How is he now? Draco turned, taking his glass.
"Died in battle." Charles still felt uncomfortable when he thought of Etienne's death.
"Killed in battle? ... With whom?"
"Blade Demon." Shire sighed long and hard.
"Can such people also have an end?" Draco's voice sounded lost. "He's been running around like a wild dragon or a rabid dog for decades, attacking the strongpoints of demon worshipers and killing them."
"I've never heard of it." Charles was surprised that Etienne had so little to say about him.
"Of course, the psycho has hurt him. How could he even think of bragging about his accomplishments?" Draco let out a cold, cloudy snort from his nasal cavity. "... But I thought he wouldn't die, that the witches took care of him, gave him the best potions, kept him alive from all kinds of wounds, and survived the battle. What nonsense..."
It's the purple ointment... A rare drug? Shire a little surprised, really good to keep, can not mess with.
Draco looked carefully at Shire again.
"Your soul is still strong, though not pure in color and stained with demonic curses, but at least it is alive." Etienne's soul was riddled early on."
"Not so much anymore." Charles said, "I have inherited the work of Maester Etienne, and will end up like him."
"Follow his path, maybe. Become like him? No way." Draco shook his head. "Etienne, when he was your age, didn't say 'sorry,' 'nice to meet you,' 'you,' 'Sir'... He's rude, he's biting, he's aggressive, he thinks there's nothing in the world that can cure him. He was a man of martial arts, a master of various spells, and handsome, and I envied him to death. At the age of twenty, he had seen half the world, measured the size of the continent with his feet, and was rich and favored by beautiful women. And I lived in poverty in a small room, dreaming of the outside world. Until now, I don't know who got it right." He looked at the small room.
"Are you the count's wizard?"
"Wizard, of course, I work for the Count and explain a lot of things for him. The stars, the signs, whether the woman will have a boy or a girl..." Draco said disdainfully. "Things that don't apply to me."
"You must be very good at something." Shire felt that the other party like to listen to polite words, so the tone as modest and polite as possible.
"It is not a good habit to flatter others. It will only make me think less of you."
"You hire me to do something, I get the money, you get the results, and then you won't think less of me." Shire was still thinking of the gold coin.
"So polite, are you really Etienne's apprentice? There is no proof."
Charles took Etienne's magic rope from his knapsack.
"Take away, take away." Draco waved his hand. "Get angry when you see it. Now I know why you're hanging around my tower."
'Why? Because I was tricked by the devil.
"Because you've inherited Etienne's trait, curiosity."
"Shifu is not a curious man."
"When he contracted Psycho, he wasn't him anymore. You, too, will change your personality, so protect your soul, do not let the devil affect it, I see you have been very contaminated... Better be careful."
Is there any way to treat it? Nooooo. Impossible, Charles dismissed the idea of inquiring, as long as Graddius remained in my soul, I could never restore it to its pure state.
"I do need you to do something for me." Draco twirled his beard. "And not in a good way. If you inherit all Etienne's guts, you should have the guts to risk it."
"The money..."
"Pay, pay, of course there is a pay." Draco pulled open a drawer in a cabinet.
Graddiu let out a scream of surprise and madness in Charles's heart.
Draco seemed to sense something and turned his head. Charles looked over Draco's rough arm and saw that the chest was full of gold and silver jewels and necklaces and other treasures. In the corner of the chest, there loomed a round amber ball, about the size of a hand, and shiny, something like glass.
"What are you looking at? Draco pushed the cabinet back. "Don't get your head wrong."
"It's nothing." Char shook his head. "I noticed a large round ball with a beautiful color."
"It's just a soul stone." Draco explained. "I'm not giving you that. It's valuable."
"Gold and silver are enough for me. What's the mission?"
"The local temple and we have not dealt with..." Draco mused. "The present divine officer is an extremely fanatical bastard who is so hostile to us' inhabitants of the Everglades' that I must replace him."
"' Replace 'the divine officer?" Char is a little confused.
"What do you think of the magistrates' attitude towards us witch people dumping bodies in the swamp?"
"Well... Not much?"
"Yes, and since they don't like me, I don't like them. If you want to help me, help me kill him, find evidence of blasphemy, find a way to make it impossible for him to stay here... Anything, anything you can do to get rid of the clergy, I'll be very grateful if you just get rid of him." Draco narrowed his eyes.
"I am not an assassin." Char wiped his sweat, "but I'll think of something."
"You can do it. I'm not a vicious person, and I fully understand that there are bound to be differences between communities, but this guy's presence only intensifies the conflict, and for the sake of the peaceful coexistence of the majority, he needs to move his ass, preferably into the grave." Draco sounded fierce.
"It takes time."
"Well, I won't let you do it alone, and I'll keep an eye out for opportunities." I'll come and sit in your chapel sometime."
"I am master of the Church now."
"Well, you'll have to clean that place up. I guess it'll take a long time."
'What? Shire was stunned.
"It is strange that none of the hunters remain in the Chapel. So a bunch of thieves just ransacked your sanctuary, and now there's probably nothing left."