Chapter 104
King Tudor III, the Gallows King
“…Senior Haina?” Eivass asked, somewhat surprised. “What a coincidence?”
He knew that Haina came from a small town, and it should be a place where commerce was not well-developed. The best evidence was that she did not wear makeup and basically did not understand skincare or fashion. Haina was entirely reliant on her good natural looks to be pursued by so many classmates. Her usual casual wear was even just a set of light brown shirts paired with a brown leather vest. The only thing that could be called jewelry was a leather wristband embroidered with a rhombic pattern.
—Let alone girls; even boys these days wouldn’t dress like that when going out. It was more like mercenaries or explorers who ventured into remote areas hundreds of years ago.
But he never expected that his biological father, Giulio, also came from that place.
“It’s not a coincidence…” Sherlock’s pupils were unfocused, and his complexion was even a bit pale. He staggered to the table and rummaged through the honey jar by himself. “Where is the honey…?”
“Do you have hypoglycemia, Sherlock?” Madam Mina was the first to react. She poured Sherlock a cup of lukewarm black tea, then added several spoonfuls of honey. Sherlock drank it all in one go, exhaled deeply, and then plopped down into a chair. The others also remained silent, just looking up at him motionlessly and quietly.
After a long while, he finally recovered. Sherlock leaned back slightly and subconsciously reached for the pocket on his chest—where there should have been a pocket containing his cigars or cigarettes. But now he felt nothing.
“Why are you all looking at me like that?” he said coldly, as if to ease the awkwardness. Seeing this familiar attitude, Eivass was sure that he had recovered.
“I think you need some hot brandy, Mr. Sherlock?” Bishop Mathers asked.
“Thank you very much,” said Sherlock, who normally didn’t drink, but surprisingly did not refuse this time. “If possible, please give me some biscuits too.” A cup of honey black tea could only awaken him, but not allow him to enter his usual state of high-intensity thinking.
Madam Mina nodded. “I’ll get them right away.”
“Bishop,” said the man with messy black hair, his voice ethereal and light, like a murmur, “do you smoke?”
“Thank you, I don’t,” Bishop Mathers replied calmly. “And you shouldn’t either. The Illuminate Spell is not without side effects. It burned away your internal injuries, and what filled them was only false light. Your body needs to operate on its own to replenish and recover its depletion.”
“I know, damn it. I mean… forget it…” Sherlock was somewhat annoyed, his language still a bit jumbled. “I can drink alcohol, but I can’t smoke. It doesn’t make sense…”
“Of course,” Bishop Mathers’ voice, rhythmic and modulated like reciting scriptures, rang out. “Actually, the main reason is that I don’t like people smoking. Especially in my house—I’m very sensitive to the smell of smoke, and I sneeze.”
“All right, I respect your habit, Lord Bishop… Thank you, Madam Mina.” Sherlock took the biscuits Madam Mina gave him.
Madam Mina softly explained, her voice gentle, “The wine is heating up. Eat some biscuits to line your stomach first.”
“Thank you,” Sherlock said softly, “It’s fine now. Ingesting too much sugar in a short period can also cause dizziness.”
He chewed the biscuits and slowly explained to Eivass, “I investigated you and Haina before. She came to the Royal Law University to study because she knew your grandfather before. Your grandfather was named Jacob, an unremarkable poet, and also a fairy tale writer and novelist. A long time ago, he was a local reporter for ‘The Cow and the Harbor’ — a newspaper published in Shepherd’s Bay Country. When he was a reporter, Jacob came into contact with many Extraordinarys, and he even personally experienced the establishment of the predecessor of the Noble Red.”
“Noble Red?” Eivass frowned slightly, repeating the familiar term in a low voice.
Sherlock let out a cynical laugh subconsciously. “You might not believe it… The initial Noble Red Society was just an organization for illegal Extraordinarys who had transcended the Path to gather together for warmth. They weren’t called that back then; they were called the ‘Serpent Hand,’ meaning ‘those who wear no armor.’ At that time, Her Majesty Sophia had not yet ascended the throne, and the King was still Tudor III.”
As he spoke, his tone gradually became sharp and clear: “He was known to the people as the ‘Gallows King.’ The most famous product of Tudor III’s reign was the ‘Hanging Square.’ The entire square was filled with people executed by hanging, and there were far more gallows than there are now. Usually, prisoners executed by hanging should be displayed after death, but during the Tudor period, they sometimes didn’t have enough—the prisoners executed that day would be taken down to make way for those who followed. At that time, other types of capital punishment had not yet been abolished; hanging was just one of many capital punishments. According to the laws of Avalon, capital punishment required the signature of the King or Queen. Tudor III’s laws were extremely harsh; a theft of more than fourteen red candles could be sentenced to death—this amount was less than one white crown. Because this standard was too low, many judges would alter the testimonies of the prisoners, changing the stolen amount to 13 red candles and 9 copper hourglasses, to avoid too many people being executed. Ironically, this theft standard would only be punished by ten days of detention. And after the thief’s detention ended, the judge would immediately send them back to prison to make up for the missing theft amount—that is, to split the original stolen amount into multiple detentions.”
“That’s true,” Bishop Mathers nodded. “When I was a child, there was a popular joke: A thief was told by a judge, ‘You will be sentenced to eleven days of detention.’ The thief, weeping, said he didn’t want to die and begged the judge for leniency. The judge asked in confusion, ‘It’s just eleven days of detention; it shouldn’t be that bad, right?'”
“And then?” Eivass asked with interest. By the time he was that age, he no longer heard that joke.
The Bishop smiled and vividly recounted, “The thief said: ‘You must have just taken office. As we all know, our King can only count to ten; anything over ten makes him so anxious that he wants to kill. ‘There was also a joke about a Bishop and the King: The Bishop advised the King, ‘We should befriend our friends and eliminate our enemies.’ The King nodded. ‘Thank you for your teachings, I have always adhered to this, and to this day I have no enemies,’ the King said piously, ‘I have killed them all.'”
“…He sounds like a tyrant,” Eivass commented sharply. This statement actually did not conform to the rules of Avalon. However, among those present, Sherlock, who was the only one who had walked the Path of Authority, did not hold any official title, so no one had any opinion on this.
Sherlock even nodded in agreement. “That’s why we praise Her Majesty Sophia. The many policy reforms she carried out after ascending the throne greatly eased the tense atmosphere in Avalon. Conversely, it was precisely because people disliked the old King that they fervently supported Her Majesty the Queen. Without such a foundation, it would have been difficult for Her Majesty to undertake so many reforms in a short period without facing significant political resistance.”
“But even so,” Bishop Mathers added, “many people still harbored resentment towards the Royal Family.”
“The Noble Red Society was a product of that era,” Sherlock said, reaching out to take the hot wine from Madam Mina.
“I thought you ‘never drank alcohol,’ Sherlock?” Eivass raised an eyebrow.
Sherlock nodded. “I don’t consider alcohol a drink; it only damages my brain. But when I feel unwell, I will have a glass of hot brandy. I consider it a form of medicine.”
“I guess you had a headache when you woke up this morning? It should have a good therapeutic effect. I added a lot of apple juice, as well as cinnamon powder, ginger slices, and lemon zest. Besides refreshing you, it should also help ward off the cold. You were a bit under the weather yesterday…” Madam Mina softly and gently said, “It would have tasted even better if it had been stewed for a longer time, but the taste should be good now.”
“Bless you, Mrs. Mina,” Sherlock bowed his head solemnly in thanks, smiling and flattering her cooking. “I could smell the aroma from afar. The person who marries you must be very lucky.”
“Indeed, I was lucky to be able to pursue Mina,” Bishop Mathers smiled proudly. “Today I am very happy… I wish it could always be like this.”
Eivass pressed on, “Later, Sherlock? How did those spontaneous organizations of civilian Extraordinarys become the Noble Red?”
“It seems you already know that the Star Antimony people are behind the Noble Red Society… and I guess Edward didn’t tell you who the high-ranking members of the Noble Red Society are. So, let me tell you; you should know this now.” Sherlock raised his eyebrows, took a sip of the hot mulled wine, and said softly, “Your grandfather, Jacob, was a Ritual Mage who transcended the Path. He was once a member of the ‘Serpent Hand.'”
“—What?” Eivass’s eyes widened suddenly upon hearing this.
“Is that so?” Bishop Mathers was also very surprised. “Ritual Mage… I haven’t heard of that profession in a long time.”
