Chapter 577
Yunus: Your necklace looks familiar.
“Then I’ll give you a gift later too!”
Nilim said seriously, “I’ll remember that, my human friend!”
“My name is Eivass, don’t call me human. Just like I won’t call you Fey, okay?”
Eivass raised his palm and said earnestly to her.
Nilim flew over, hugged Eivass’s nose, and kissed him—but Eivass didn’t feel anything at all, it was even like being bitten by a mosquito.
“Mmm! Eivass!”
She said happily, “My friend, Eivass!”
But Nilim quickly reacted, “Eivass, what are you doing here?”
“—He’s here to find me, Miss Nilim.”
A somewhat tired but still steady voice echoed from within.
A cane tapped on the soft mud, boots brushed across fallen leaves, and Sherlock walked out slowly.
At that moment, Nilim bristled.
With a whoosh, she disappeared from her spot and reappeared behind Eivass. Her wings flapped noisily, and she reached out to grab a lock of Eivass’s hair, shouting loudly, “It’s a bad guy! Bad guy Sherlock!”
Eivass subtly extended a finger, gently tapping Nilim’s head as if to pat her, and asked Sherlock, “How did you upset her?”
Sherlock shook his head, “It’s nothing, I misspoke—we were chatting quite happily, and then I said the wrong thing.”
Eivass suddenly understood.
Sherlock must have forgotten Fey’s taboo and called her a “Fey.” It’s impossible to change this kind of thing; if “Happy Spirit” were designated as the scientific name for Fey, then the name Fey hated would be “Happy Spirit.” They simply hated being defined or studied. This was probably the fundamental conflict between the Path of Wisdom and the Path of Beauty.
“Don’t play with bad guys, Eivass! I don’t want to play with bad guys!”
Nilim pouted, holding Eivass’s hair and trying her best to pull him away. But even with all her strength, she could only make Eivass feel an extremely slight tug—it wasn’t even as strong as the wind blowing.
After pulling twice and seeing that Eivass didn’t move, Nilim huffed and turned into a gust of wind, drilling into the gaps of Eivass’s hair.
“Allow me to introduce Eivass.”
Sherlock said, stepping aside slightly to reveal the person behind him, “This is Mr. Yunus, my client. I’m here to help him solve some problems—and I’ve invited you because this matter may require a priest.”
It was a man Eivass had never seen before.
He had an incredibly shiny, smooth, bald head like a hard-boiled egg, fair skin, slightly plump cheeks that gave him a non-threatening appearance, and large, round, bright black eyes like a child’s. His face had a lively, cheerful, and carefree look of optimism. His most striking feature was a pair of black, upward-curling mustaches resembling a cat’s mouth. He was a full head shorter than Sherlock, looking like a small potato.
The moment Lily saw him, she felt a strong hesitation and shock.
She already knew from Eivass that “Yunus’s” true identity was Prince Albert, Isabel’s father. But this man, who looked so comical as if he had stepped out of a circus, made it impossible for her to connect him with the delicate and beautiful Isabel.
Eivass, however, had no reaction.
Because he knew that this was “Yunus’s” face. Albert had used illusion to hide his true appearance, transforming himself to look like his friend Yunus. He used this method to avoid fear and escape responsibility.
“Ha, ha, ha!”
Yunus let out a rhythmic laugh, his dark eyes seemed to sparkle. He skillfully strummed the musical instrument in his hand, easily playing a cheerful and vibrant melody.
“I am Yunus, the happy Yunus; Respected Bishop, no, Archbishop, I have heard of your name for a long time!”
Yunus’s tone of speaking was strange. It wasn’t like normal speech, but it wasn’t singing or reciting poetry either. Although it sometimes missed the rhythm and didn’t rhyme, it inexplicably felt like “an archaic version of rap,” like the spoken lines in a musical, full of emotion.
“A good person who sings well!”
Hearing his voice, Nilim immediately emerged from Eivass’s hair, poking out a small head, “I can hear you singing from home sometimes! So I came to find you!”
“Ha, ha, ha!”
Yunus responded with a rhythmic three-part laugh, “You flatter me, making me blush; thank you for your praise, little lady, I didn’t expect my singing to reach the Land of Joy.”
“It’s nice—and you should respectfully call me Madam Nilim, I’m almost an adult!”
Nilim argued, then began to sing.
It was a beautiful voice, as clear as flowing water—so pure that it could cleanse the soul if it were a holy song, and evoke the carefree sunshine of the countryside if it were a folk song. Eivass and the others fell silent, listening to her sing.
However, contrary to her clear tone, the song was somewhat melancholic, a song of a lonely traveler. It was completely at odds with the name “Happy Yunus.” The lyrics told of a wanderer who could not return home, seeing the moon in a foreign land and thinking of his homeland’s moon.
But Yunus did not let his smile fade. He accompanied her by playing the modified instrument in his hands, which was actually a “guitar,” letting out a melancholic and quiet melody.
At some point, the surrounding chestnut trees began to bloom. The strong fragrance of chestnut flowers permeated the sunlight, then the light gradually faded. The sky turned into a night sky, and the sun became the cold moonlight.
Soon, Yunus, echoing Nilim’s song, played his instrument and hummed in a low voice. His lyrics were simple, repeating “I saw the moon, just like the one at home” every other line. In between, he described the trivialities of his life and observations as a traveler—”I bought another pancake today, but the filling isn’t as good as Mom’s”; “I dreamed of playing chess with my father, maybe he’s a bit lonely in the Dream Realm”; “I walked ten hours in the wilderness today and still haven’t found a place to stay.” These were all poignant yet ordinary sentences, unadorned, even somewhat crude, but they were incredibly captivating.
Even though Nilim and Yunus had no prior coordination, Nilim seamlessly transitioned into a harmony, handing the lead vocals to Yunus. Yunus quickly finished the song and then happily bowed to everyone again.
Eivass was the first to applaud, followed by the Fey Nilim’s excited cheers. Then came Lily, and finally, a rather reluctant Sherlock. Eivass knew that Sherlock couldn’t quite appreciate this style of folk music. He preferred the elegant melodies of the violin, which evoked moonlight, flowing water, lakes, and swans, or the intense, fiery music that symbolized unyielding spirit.
At this moment, the moon in the sky turned back into the sun, and the night sky reverted to daytime. But a circle of chestnut trees, about twenty meters in radius, had bloomed.
“Can I have some wine, Bishop?”
Yunus looked at Eivass with his sparkling eyes—or rather, at the necklace Eivass wore around his neck—and respectfully and earnestly invited, “Although we are meeting for the first time, I feel as if we are meeting from a past life! I want to have dinner with you, lunch is fine too. Such a young Archbishop, I want to hear your story!”
“Of course, Mr. Yunus.”
Eivass bowed slightly and greeted him, “My name is Eivass Moriarty.”
“So you are that Moriarty—I’ve heard your story, the brave battle against demons is in the newspapers; but I’ve never heard it from the person involved. Perhaps I’ll be fortunate enough to write a song for you?”
Yunus enthusiastically moved closer to Eivass, bowed slightly, and clasped Eivass’s hands. Eivass clasped Yunus’s hands in return, responding gently and earnestly, “You are a renowned righteous hero, Mr. Yunus. I will tell you all I know.”
His reaction… he must have recognized the necklace Isabel gave me, right? Eivass’s heart trembled.
(End of Chapter)
