Right now, Bologue is sitting in the dining room within the Celestial Do Castle, a table full of local delicacies, the aroma is enticing, but Bologue shows no intention of tasting them.
Seated beside the long table are Aimou, Church, and Palr, along with a few others Bologue doesn’t recognize. Altogether, compared to the spacious dining room, it still feels sowhat lonely with just these few people.
Of course, it’s visually lonely; the atmosphere in the dining room is actually quite lively. Church wears a serious expression, unlike the others who are there for sightseeing; he has a task to maintain a serious work attitude.
Aimou is very interested in Leica. It’s normal for children to like furry things. When she tastes sothing delicious, she calls Leica, hiding in the corner, to secretly co over, and feeds it a bit.
Through the bribery of food, Aimou, the new friend, has already gained almost full favor in Leica’s eyes.
Palr appears sowhat reserved; clearly, he has returned to his own ho, he should be relaxed, but this guy is currently filled with tension... Bologue doesn’t think this tension stems from the castle’s owner. The castle owner doesn’t even pay attention to Palr.
"You must be the famous Bologue Lazarus!"
The castle owner, Palr’s father, now the Patriarch of the Clarks—bearing nurous respected titles—the man is smiling as he toasts to Bologue.
Bologue can’t refuse and drinks with him. The man looks very young, probably due to his youthful mindset, only showing slight wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, indicating the passage of ti.
The other lets out a hearty drinking sound, laughing wildly as he pats Bologue on the shoulder, complinting him, saying that Bologue is indeed worthy of being an Undead, with a remarkable build.
Bologue, in turn, puts on a false smile, echoing the man’s words.
Having worked for so long, Bologue always thought he wouldn’t encounter "sales" type of work, but now he feels he very much resembles a salesman, singing and dancing with clients at a drinking party.
Bologue can no longer understand whether this is a tour or work, and he can’t even tell when he stepped into such a bizarre quagmire.
Clearly, he’s arrived in the Wind Source Highlands for only a few hours, but he feels as if he’s spent several weeks here, his sense of ti being infinitely stretched.
The castle owner beside him is still slinging an arm around his shoulder. From a certain angle, he and Palr truly are a father and son, Bologue feels he’s facing a middle-aged version of Palr.
Then Bologue profoundly realizes one thing: the construction of an individual’s personality is intricately linked to their growth environnt.
Bologue’s past experiences are full of hardships, facing too many cruel things, thus sculpting Bologue into a cold, efficient expert figure, while Aimou believes in Teda’s crazy fantasies, becoming sowhat stubborn. Luckily, Aimou is still a child and has ti to reshape, whereas Palr...
No wonder Palr is like this; this cannot be blad on him. After all, anyone with this kind of father would have a hard ti growing up healthy.
With his gaze lowered, staring at the swaying wine glass, Bologue recalls the first eting with the castle owner a few hours earlier.
Given Bologue’s current vocabulary, it’s hard to evaluate the scene of their first eting. If he must make a comparison, it’s only safe to say it was very Palr-like, or rather, very Clarks family style.
After petting Leica, the group prepares to enter the Fortress of the Morning Wind to ask soone about things, when the castle owner descends from the sky on a gust of wind.
Like Palr, he’s dressed in luxurious traditional clothing but much more flamboyant than Palr, with a golden ribbon trailing behind him, like the King of the Wind.
The castle owner elegantly lands, his gaze sweeping across the faces of the few, finally pausing on Palr’s face.
Bologue was still unclear about the other’s identity at the ti, but from the resemblance in facial features, Bologue could recognize the similarity with Palr.
Bologue held his breath, rembering Palr’s terrible relationship with his family. If the castle owner were to hit Palr next, Bologue wouldn’t be able to stop it, but then sothing odd happened.
It’s as if the world’s storyline took a detour. Even Bologue finds it hard to comprehend the ensuing conversation.
"Hmm... Young man, you look quite decent."
First, the castle owner makes a remark about Palr’s appearance.
"Speaking of which, my son looks quite similar to you."
Next, the castle owner pats Palr on the shoulder, showing appreciation.
"Right, what’s your na? Let’s give you two a chance to et."
Finally, the castle owner extends a hand, as a gesture of goodwill.
Palr extends his hand, managing to keep a straight face, but Bologue believes he’s nearly biting through his molars.
"Palr Clarks."
Palr reports his na.
In an instant, the castle owner, like a seasoned actor, shifts his expression from gentle friendliness to surprise, with a hint of panic mixed in, but fortunately, he quickly cos up with a solution, his face brimming with a kindly smile, joy about to overflow.
The expression change was fantastic, without the slightest delay. Bologue really wishes he had a cara to record the whole thing.
"Palr!"
The castle owner seizes Palr’s hand, vigorously slapping the back, raising an eyebrow as he defends, "How’s that for a joke?"
The eting between the castle owner and Palr is just like a philanderer in a bar encountering his grown-up illegitimate child.
Before Palr can respond, the castle owner opens an embrace of love, treating him like a child several years of age.
"Co to Papa."
Bologue guessed that Palr must be missing Oubos in Oath City right now, even though they had only left less than an hour ago.
...
After this disastrous eting, an awkward atmosphere erged between Palr and the castle’s master, causing Bologue to attract unwanted attention for Palr during the welcoming banquet.
"How is it being Palr’s partner?"
"Do you encounter any difficulties in your usual work?"
"Oh? You two are roomies too, is anyone good at cooking?"
Stripped of their lofty identities, the castle’s master was no different than a regular parent, and the questions he asked were things heard countless tis before.
Bologue answered patiently, noticing that the more powerful these people were, the less pretentious they seed, whether it was Nesanel, Serey, or the man in front of him.
And yes... also those Devils.
"By the way, how is Serey doing? You’re a mber of the Undying Club, right?"
Suddenly, the castle’s master asked Bologue an unexpected question.
Bologue wondered if he heard it wrong, "Serey?"
"Don’t be nervous, Serey Villeries, I know him."
ntioning Serey, the castle’s master grew excited, "I worked at the Order Bureau when I was younger, and I often went to the Undying Club to drink Serey’s wine for free."
You should have seen that display case, right? Third shelf, there’s a disposable paper cup that’s mine. If you turn the cup upside down, you’ll see my signature."
Bologue was stunned, his expression uncontrollably shocked, "So it was you!"
"Yes, it’s !"
My goodness, everything connected.
"Ah... Serey helped a lot back then, during the ti I worked at the Order Bureau, I used to hang out and revel with those people at the Undying Club," the castle’s master reminisced, "How is Sai Zong? Still a dog?"
"No, Sai Zong left the Undying Club not long ago and hasn’t returned."
As Sai Zong was ntioned, Bologue’s expression beca serious once more. In his exchanges with Serey, Bologue faintly sensed sothing strange about Sai Zong.
He is the oldest mber of the Undying Club, though Serey didn’t speak directly, Bologue could infer the underlying aning of Serey’s words.
Serey suspected Sai Zong to be the founder of the Undying Club. Even if not the founder, he must be intricately connected with that mysterious founder.
"Is that so?"
Upon hearing these words, the castle’s master revealed a aningful expression.
"But... since you know Serey," Bologue couldn’t help but say, "weren’t both parties quite disappointed with each other?"
The mighty Night Race Lord, in such a manner?
The famous Clarks heir, just like that?
Bologue could already envision the inner thoughts of both individuals during their eting many years ago.
The castle’s master fully understood Bologue’s point, bursting into laughter, "Disappointed? It’s more like eting late!"
As expected!
Bologue tried hard to forget this absurdity, his mind still troubled. Ever since coming to Wind Source Highlands, knowing the events occurring here, and "Dawn Oath", this question had incessantly lingered in his heart.
"Historically, the Clarks should be mortal enemies with the Night Race, so why would you be friendly with a Night Race Lord?"
The castle’s master replied with a smile, "Not all Night Race mbers are enemies, like Serey."
Bologue’s confusion remained unresolved, and the castle’s master also realized the problem, he chuckled while touching his head.
"Sorry, I forgot this matter hasn’t been publicly disclosed."
Collecting his composure, the castle’s master instantly seed to transform into Fuen Clarks, radiating so essence of the Clarks’ Patriarch.
"Serey Villeries is our absolutely trusted ally, yet he is also a sinner of the Villeries, a rebel Lord of the Eternal Night Empire, a son both hated and cherished by the Night King.
It was him who personally ended the Dawn War."
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