Chapter Seventy-Eight: Everyone is Here
“To be precise, it’s a defective product left behind by Master Dee. The finished product was taken back to Solonika by him long ago. This defective product is now in the possession of a pitiable Dwarf, who should be one of Master Dee’s experimental subjects from his early research phase.”
The person who spoke later said.
“Who would have thought that Oles Dee could actually succeed. The Black Dragon in this region is the last Scale Stone species created by the Hermes Crimson Sacred Rite Society. Before Oles, everyone thought there were no more traces of Scale Stone species in the Mortal Realm.”
That person clearly had no interest in discussing this topic. “Whether Master Dee’s crimes or merits should be known to the world.”
“The Secret Church will not allow you to say that,” Li Lin smiled.
“Is that alright? How much longer does your clone’s duration last?”
Li Lin carefully put the blood-red gem into a rune-engraved box while replying to that person.
“There are still 27 minutes left, which is enough.”
The person nodded, pondered for a moment, and then said, “What should we do with that Wilson? Do you need me to do it?”
Wilson?
Li Lin chuckled, shaking his head repeatedly.
“No, there’s no need for that for now. That fool is too arrogant and cannot see the flaws in the ritual he is performing. Dark Dawn and the Great Rite are not things to be trifled with. Even if he could complete the ritual, what would emerge from his skin would not be a deified him.”
*
Harik was on pins and needles. Just a quarter of an hour ago, he followed Moria into the mansion. Wilson’s butler received them coldly and said that Lord Wilson had prepared a dinner for them.
Then their group was led to this hall and seated at the long table.
The long table was filled with exquisite delicacies, all of which he had never heard of, but Harik had no appetite to enjoy them.
At the end of the long table, at the head seat, sat a meatball in luxurious clothing, so obese it could be considered bloated. He was so ugly it was nauseating, like a flattened toad after being infected with sores.
“Welcome, you are the first guests,” he said with a smile.
Moria looked at him, “Are you Viscount Wilson?”
“I am.” Wilson’s attitude was docile. If it weren’t for his horrific appearance, he would likely have been a polite Gentleman. “The invited guests have not all arrived, please forgive me for not being able to entertain you yet.”
Guests?
Harik didn’t think he was qualified to sit in that position. He believed that this Lord Wilson had likely misunderstood something, otherwise, why would he be so amiable towards them.
“I am Moria, and I wish to borrow a carriage from Lord Wilson to go to Leicester. Afterwards, I will compensate you with double the value of the carriage.”
This explanation sounded exactly like a low-class swindler to Harik’s ears. Harik was dumbfounded and wished he could grab Moria and talk to the Lord himself.
He gestured to Moria sitting beside him, but Moria remained oblivious.
“Ah, of course, there is no problem with that, but this matter will have to wait until after the dinner. At that time, everything will be as you wish.”
Wilson’s speaking rhythm was like reciting poetry or singing; anyone could tell he was in a very good mood.
At this moment, the hall door was opened, and two young people, a man and a woman, entered.
Harik glanced at them and was startled. The young man was wearing a Mage robe, complete with an insignia certified by the Magic Committee.
This was a legal, orthodox, and respectable Mage! Even more terrifying was that this Mage nodded friendly at him.
As a Wild Mage, Harik wished he could pull Nasha under the table. People like them were not qualified to sit at the same long table with such a distinguished Mage.
“Should we make a move now?”
He heard the Mage’s female companion say so casually.
Make a move? To deal with Wild Mages?
“Let’s wait until everyone is here,”
The Mage said the same thing as Wilson. Harik had a premonition that something would happen once all seventeen seats were filled.
After the two took their seats, Wilson grinned.
“Another two guests. Now the missionary, painter, heretic, hat maker, and gladiator are all seated. Twelve more are needed.”
Missionary? Painter?
These seemed to be identities, and judging by the number, they were referring to the people present. But Harik felt he didn’t fit any of these descriptions.
Afterward, another group entered. This group was clearly with the previous Mage, and upon meeting, they communicated in a tongue Harik couldn’t understand.
These people looked as if they had just returned from the battlefield, covered in blood and wounds. When they saw Viscount Wilson, they all took out their weapons. Just as a bloody conflict was about to erupt, they inexplicably put away their weapons and sat down obediently.
It was truly strange, Harik felt increasingly uneasy.
He glanced at Moria, wanting to gain some morale from the Knight. But Moria’s gaze was calm and fixed, as if lost in thought, or perhaps waiting for something.
His companion Nasha was even more so. Ever since she accidentally performed a divination, she had been inattentive, as if her soul had been taken away.
At this point, eleven people were seated at the long table.
The Mage’s female companion was complaining. She was probably the most restless of the group, her gaze constantly shifting to Wilson, like a cold and cruel Hunter watching its prey. Their group seemed to be there to cause trouble for Wilson.
But Wilson just smiled throughout. When people spoke to him, he would only say he was waiting for everyone to arrive.
Amidst this uneasy atmosphere, the last group, consisting of more than two people, appeared.
They were all in black trench coats, solemn as if they were priests praying for the dead.
Investigators from the Kingdom’s Disciplinary Bureau! Arrick smelled their peculiar scent from afar, a smell that could make any illegal Transcendent tremble with fear.
“Wilson! You dare to use the entire town’s residents as sacrifices! You deserve to die!”
As the investigators entered, the leader’s hand flashed with light, as if about to cast a spell.
But the next moment, his face turned pale, and he spat out a mouthful of black blood.
“Lackeys, watch your tone!” Wilson narrowed his eyes, his tone cold and cruel. “This is my territory!”
This wasn’t right? The Kingdom’s Disciplinary Bureau investigators were fighting with a noble sanctioned by the Kingdom?
Just as the conflict was about to erupt, the lead investigator snorted and sat down with the others.
Now, only one empty seat remained at the long table.
Harik swallowed hard. He tried to get up but found he couldn’t. The chair seemed to possess a magical force; once seated, one could not leave.
The door was pushed open again, and the last person walked in slowly and with difficulty.
This was a very old Duwei person, whose face was covered in wrinkles and strange patterns painted on it.
His gaze swept over everyone present, finally landing on Wilson.
“The last guest has also arrived,” Wilson grinned, revealing a mouth full of sharp teeth. “Now… the dinner can begin.”
