Wizards: Starting with Fairy Crests

065: The Earl's Decision

"You...you should quickly go and beg the wizard in the manor to help you this once."

"Only he... might be able to save the Thornflower Clan and save Armor Rock City."

Chris's Adam's apple bobbed almost imperceptibly as he uttered the word "wizard."

As a young knight who believes in traditional chivalry and is instinctively wary and somewhat repulsed by supernatural forces, it takes a huge psychological hurdle to take the initiative to seek help from a mysterious wizard.

But he saw a complex light suddenly appear in his father's eyes, which then quickly dimmed.

The Celtic count's lips moved, but he did not speak immediately.

How could he not have thought of the reclusive Lord Lin Qi, whom he respectfully enshrined in the Qingkong Manor? That mysterious being, whose flick of the finger caused ice crystals to fly and easily frightened away dozens of thugs, undoubtedly possessed power far beyond the imagination of ordinary people.

but……

"Chris..." The Count's voice was dry and hoarse, "He's a wizard. We know very little about him. His agreement to stay temporarily and accept offerings is already a rare act of 'goodwill.' What right do we have to ask him to intervene in mortal wars and offend his purity?"

He shook his head, a deep sense of helplessness on his face: "Besides, the price a wizard pays... is often beyond imagination. We might not be able to afford it."

"But we have no other choice!" Chris's voice rose slightly, tinged with suppressed excitement. "Father, look outside! The walls are about to fall! The next attack will bring the Grayrock Fortress army in!"

"At that time, the Thornflower family's centuries-old heritage, the countless commoners in Armor Rock City, and my mother and sister... everything will be over!"

The Celtic Earl slumped into his chair, his hands covering his face, the skin peeking out between his fingers pale and bloodless.

He wasn't unaware of his predicament, nor was he entirely afraid to bow to the mysterious and unpredictable wizard. What truly made him hesitate and his mind in turmoil was the unfathomable "price."

Wizards' help is never a free lunch.

The stories passed down in aristocratic secrets and ancient ballads all warn of the dangers of making deals with supernatural beings.

They might demand rare treasures, require the sacrifice of lives, brand an inescapable contract, or even covet the soul itself.

The fear of the unknown cost weighed heavily on his heart, almost suffocating him.

"Father!" Chris stepped forward anxiously when he saw that his father was still silent, wanting to persuade him again.

Just then—

"Bang!"

The heavy oak doors of the council chamber were flung open, and a terrified old servant stumbled in, not even bothering to bow, his hoarse voice trembling with tears:

"Master! Master! Something terrible has happened! Miss Eleanor's carriage...the carriage was ambushed near Oak Bridge, five miles outside the city! The guards...the guards are all dead! The coachman fought his way back to report...Miss...Miss is missing!"

"What?!" Chris was struck dumb, turning around abruptly, his azure eyes instantly filled with shock and rage.

The Celtic Earl seemed to have been struck hard by an invisible hammer; his hands, which had been covering his face, slipped down, revealing a face that had instantly lost all color.

His eyes were wide open, but his pupils were contracting violently, and his body trembled slightly uncontrollably.

"Ellie...No?" he murmured the name, his voice so soft it was almost inaudible. But then it rose sharply, with an unbelievable shrillness:

"Eleanor?! How could this be... Shouldn't she have left safely by now?! I paid the ransom! A full thirty thousand gold coins! Raymond personally promised to let her carriage pass safely through his lines to White Harbor for refuge!"

Eleanor, though not his biological daughter, was his most beloved and cherished youngest daughter, whom he treated as his own.

Her father was Celt's most loyal partner and subordinate. Eight years ago, during an assassination attempt against him, he shielded him from a deadly poisoned arrow, but died from the poison himself, leaving behind this orphaned infant.

Therefore, even when Armor Rock was on the verge of collapse, the Celts still immediately requested a noble war treaty from Raymond and paid a huge ransom to send her away.

"How could he... how could he do this!" Celtic suddenly stood up from his chair, but his vision blurred due to the rush of blood and extreme anger and grief. He swayed and was caught by Chris, who reacted quickly.

Eleanor wasn't even of the Thornflower bloodline and had no right to the inheritance, posing no real threat to Raymond's ambitions.

She was just an eight-year-old orphan who had lost her biological parents!

"Raymond!" Chris gritted his teeth, both out of concern for his sister's safety and because of a chilling feeling that Raymond had not only betrayed his oath but also started a war.

Now even the most basic rules of war concerning the safety of noblewomen and children are being trampled upon! This goes beyond the scope of power struggles; it is naked barbarity and utterly unscrupulous brutality!

"He promised...he accepted the gold coins...he was just a child...just a child!"

Celt gripped Chris's arm tightly, his nails digging almost into his son's nails. His eyes were unfocused, and he muttered repeatedly, as if he couldn't accept the fact.

The old servant knelt on the ground, touched his head to the ground, and wept uncontrollably.

Inside the council chamber, only the Earl's heavy, painful breathing, Chris's suppressed groans, and the old servant's desperate sobs remained.

Suddenly, Celt stopped muttering to himself.

He slowly raised his head.

Those eyes, which were originally bloodshot and filled with exhaustion and struggle, were now replaced by a cold, piercing light that was almost tangible.

All hesitation, fear, and consideration of the consequences were completely overwhelmed and crushed the moment they learned of Eleanor's whereabouts, by a more primal and violent hatred and a do-or-die determination.

He abruptly pushed away Chris's hand that was supporting him and straightened up. Although he was still slightly swaying, the fierce aura that belonged to the lord, to his father, and that had erupted from being driven to the brink of despair, returned to him.

"Chris." His voice was hoarse, yet exceptionally clear and firm, each word like an icicle hitting the ground.

"Father!" Chris replied immediately. Seeing the familiar yet unfamiliar cold light in his father's eyes, he knew that the indecisive count had disappeared.

Celtic's gaze swept over the kneeling old servant, over the outline of the dilapidated city wall in the twilight outside the window, and finally settled on his son's young and resolute face.

"We really...can't delay any longer."

Some bottom lines, once crossed, offer no turning back.

"Prepare the horses!" Count Celt whirled around, his voice booming through the heavy hall doors. "No...bring me my sword and cloak! I'll go myself!"

Since it's hell either way...

So...

Let's die together!