Chapter 349: 349. Dreams, Puppets, Elder
Gascogne left, along the uncovered, railing-less canal outside his house window.
The sunshine is nice today, but it seems that the traces of last night’s hunt have yet to be cleaned up, so the Yan Nan people walking on the road are few and far between.
And even among these sparse few, they carry an indelible restlessness and panic on their faces.
They carry newly bought daily necessities and incense in their arms, then hurriedly rush to their next destination.
Lann took one last look at the scene on the street through the slowly closing door.
The tense and panicked atmosphere in the city has become so thick it’s exhausting, utterly impossible to hide.
"Lann, you’ve worked hard, you can go rest now."
Holding a duster, Lady Viola, who had just finished dusting, smiled at Lann.
"If anything happens, I will call you. Rest assured, Gascogne always sleeps and rests in the morning after the night of the hunt, and the children and I will stay quiet. You will sleep well."
As a hunter’s wife, Lady Viola’s family had already adjusted their routine for this job.
Lann glanced at the two little girls who were quietly playing at the side, then gently nodded.
"I will go to rest, Lady Viola. Please wake me when Gascogne returns, no matter what happens."
"Of course, you both agreed on that, didn’t you?"
Lady Viola agreed lightly.
Lann turned and entered the guest room, leaning the Lady of the Lake’s Sword against the head of the bed, then lay down on the bed.
On linens that exuded the reassuring scent of soap, drowsiness began to envelop him.
"This... doesn’t feel right, Mentos? I... tire so quickly..."
"Sir? I can’t find anything, this..."
The intelligent voice of the biological brain faded farther in his mind.
Lann’s consciousness sunk deeply into sleep, as if plunging into the deep sea.
He didn’t know how much time passed before a faint floral fragrance lingered at the tip of his nose.
He woke up groggily.
The first sensation was not the sheets smelling of soap but rather the hard stone bricks.
Cautiously, Lann propped himself up from the ground, somewhat dazedly looking at the scene before him.
This was not the guest room in Gascogne’s house; it was a... garden in front of a small chapel? Or a cemetery?
There were some unknown white flowers scattered on the ground, and at the corners of the small courtyard stood variously styled tombstones.
Lann couldn’t quite confirm if the only building in sight was a chapel; it did resemble a small chapel from the outside.
But peering inside from the opening outside, it lacked any prayer instruments and looked more like a workshop.
The moon above was as bright and close as it was during the hunt night. The moon phase appeared very unusual.
Is someone watching me?
The sudden feeling made Lann frown.
But when he followed that feeling to a side, what he saw was... a doll?
A doll that resembled a young girl.
Lann felt the scene grew stranger.
Why do I feel like a doll is watching me?
Even though the doll was incredibly lifelike.
She sat under the steps of the small chapel, slender and pale.
She wore a Victorian-era maid-like attire, with white lace-cuffed sleeves, a cape-like shawl, and a long dress extending to her ankles in layers, with small leather boots underneath.
A maid’s cap for work also adorned her pale hair.
However, unlike a maid’s black-and-white attire, her clothes were colored blood red and brown-black.
Lann paced over, nearing the doll for a closer look.
In appearance, she’s almost a real person, even down to the eyelids.
Only the exposed fingers preserved the traditional doll craftsmanship, adopting ball joints.
Lann felt that if not deliberately differentiating, the dollmaker could have made the fingers as realistic as a human’s.
If not for Lann’s remarkably detailed observation skills, he might have approached, trying to converse with the doll.
The doll’s creator must have poured an almost obsessive belief into it.
After only a brief observation, Lann directly headed towards the little chapel.
The scene here is indeed consistent with Lann’s observations; rather than a chapel, it was more of a workshop with a chapel exterior.
It looked as if there lay heavy chests, with several tables and tools involving various crafts arranged around.
Using his card-playing experiences with Fergus and Yuna, Lann successfully recognized some tools used to enhance weapons, but the rest puzzled him greatly.
"How did you appear?"
Lann, who was examining those tools, suddenly asked, abruptly setting down what he held and turning toward another door in the room.
"Not long ago, I was sure there was no other living person here besides me. I’m fairly confident in my sense."
A sudden squeak of wheelchair wheels came from the door Lann faced.
Very abruptly, not from afar to near, but as if it simply appeared at the doorway.
Sitting in the wheelchair was an old man in an outdated formal suit, with an equally aged top hat with frayed edges.
One of his feet was gone, replaced with a wooden prosthetic to maintain equal leg length.
"How did I appear? Such a strange question." The old man said in a low and slow voice, with his head lowered.
"You’ve trespassed into the garden I guard, yet you ask how I appear."
"The garden you guard? Pardon me, are you a Mage or Wizard of some sort?"
Lann leaned against the workbench, calmly questioning.
He had read about an Illusion Technique creating a vast fairy tale amusement park; was this space a similar magic product?
"If I have troubled you, I can state plainly that I will leave soon. Once I exit this illusion, I will depart Yan’an too."
"Illusion? Dream? Something of the sort, if that’s what you think, then nothing wrong with it."
The old man said, leaning on a cane in the wheelchair.
"But leaving Yan’an? Why would you think that having intruded into someone else’s garden and giving them a fright can be settled simply by leaving?"
Lann frowned, "So... you want ’compensation’?"
"Not much, not much, hehe..." The old man laughed heartily, continuing.
With his head lowered, the brim of his top hat obscured his expression from Lann.
"You are a Hunter, aren’t you, young man? How nice, full of energy, skillful. If you could join the night of the hunt, that would be ’compensation,’ wouldn’t it?"
"The hunt night just passed, last night."
"Passed? Haha, it will come again; it will always come again... Yan’an always needs a hunt night."
"As long as you participate in the hunt night as a Yan Nan Person, you can use anything in this workshop at will, including that doll by the door."
The old man’s slow, deep voice carried a hint of temptation.
"Life isn’t easy for an outsider in Yan’an, but just a bit of blood. Just a tiny bit of blood into your body, and we can make a contract, and you become a genuine Yan Nan Person."
"Sounds tempting." Lann tilted his head, looking at the old man in the wheelchair.
"But listen, buddy, I neither want to become a Yan Nan Person, nor am I interested in the doll, so..."
Lann left his sentence incomplete, merely spreading his hands.
The old man sighed accordingly. "So, you refuse compensation?"
"Oh, that is really... such a pity."
"Yes, I think it’s a pity too."
Lann’s posture sank slightly, his heart began to race, and his body temperature started to rise.
Those cat-like eyes fixed intently on the seemingly sleeping old man.