3 Chapter 3: The Fallen Aristocrat, the Pocket Watch Collector

Chapter 3: The Fallen Aristocrat, the Pocket Watch Collector

The Sunia Sea reflected the azure of the sky, its vast expanse merging with the horizon. A massive ship sailed slowly towards the point where sea and sky became one.

Pirate fleets passing by would surely steer clear of this area.

For this was the Dawn, the ship of the Bernadette Gustav!

In the uppermost room, a lamp with a unique design flickered with a dim glow.

"You're not yourself today."

Bernadette's expression was grave as she spoke, reinforcing the seals to prevent any mishaps.

"Heh, I don't need to explain anything to you unless you're willing to make a wish for it."

"You know that's impossible."

"Then there's nothing more to say."

As the voice of the genie faded, the Wishing Lamp returned to its usual calm.

Inside the Wishing Lamp, the genie pondered the recent events.

It sensed a mysterious presence peering through the seals, as if it could be freed from the Wishing Lamp's confinement with this entity's help.

Tempted by the prospect of freedom, the genie didn't just wait; it traced the gaze back to its source, only to find a barrier of stars blocking its path, preventing any further progress.

During that brief contact, the genie sensed a suppression, one that belonged to higher rules and order!

This was inconceivable! The genie itself was a being of order and rules, and even entities of higher stature couldn't suppress it in this realm!

Could someone be usurping its place?

The genie panicked. If its suspicions were true, it would be far worse than being sealed within the Wishing Lamp.

Usurpation, consumption—it would struggle to reclaim its rightful pathways and essence!

Even the part of itself beyond the stars faced a great calamity.

"Damn that The Celestial Worthy of Heaven and Earth

! If not for it, how could I have fallen to such a state!"

"No, I must find a way to break the seal and regain my freedom!"

"If necessary, I could use Bernadette's power, granting her a wish without any negative repercussions."

The genie was lost in a tirade of curses and thoughts.

...

Cuckoo! Cuckoo!

On the bedside table, a mechanical cuckoo clock made of various parts chimed on time.

"What a refreshing sleep."

Hastur was awakened by the clock's sound, turned over, and stretched out on the bed, hands pushing upwards in a lazy stretch.

From around ten in the morning until three in the afternoon, five hours of sleep had completely dispelled his fatigue, leaving him exceptionally alert.

Thinking of the Hall of Stars from his dreams, Hastur's lips curled slightly. Now he had an ace up his sleeve, giving him confidence in this perilous world.

After lingering in bed for another ten minutes, Hastur rose, tidied the blankets, and went to the mirror to smooth out his clothes and freshen up.

A white shirt, black vest, and trousers—he looked spirited despite his lean figure and straight back.

Even as a fallen aristocrat, he maintained the necessary attire.

Hastur moved to the adjacent dressing room, donned a dark coat, selected a top hat, tied a bow tie, and chose a silver-plated ebony cane from among a dozen.

The cane's handle, crafted from pure silver with intricate carvings, exuded a dignified and elegant air.

Compared to flashy gold canes and those adorned with precious stones, this one suited his taste better.

Subtle yet luxurious, it was a style favored by many Rune aristocrats.

A pocket watch, essential for keeping track of time, was also a must-have for outings. Hastur opened the drawer where his collection of pocket watches lay—about a dozen or so.

Gold-plated, jewel-encrusted, and even luxurious solid gold models, mostly round or oval, were adorned with exquisite patterns.

Each watch here could be considered a small piece of art.

Hastur paused, then opened another drawer filled with an array of pocket watches.

In total, there were five drawers of watches.

He fell into deep silence.

Alright, he admitted to having greatly misunderstood the term "fallen aristocrat."

Even in decline, such a collection could be worth a fortune.

The original owner seemed to be a pocket watch enthusiast who, despite being penniless, chose not to sell his collection.

Risking being dazzled, Hastur finally picked a relatively plain pocket watch, primarily silver with a gold-edged rim and a matching silver chain.

Once ready, he hesitated to leave the house.

If it weren't for these collectibles, he wouldn't mind, but with all the servants gone, the house was unattended.

What if a thief broke in? The loss would be devastating.

Sighing at the burden of possessing valuables, he recognized the pain of such a predicament.

Now was not the time to hire a housekeeper or servants; he could only hope the locks were sturdy and the neighborhood safe.

After locking the door and taking a set of keys, Hastur stepped out onto the street.

The overcast weather was typical of Beckland.

With no money on hand, he had no choice but to walk to Beckland University, taking the opportunity to familiarize himself with the local roads.

The journey from the western district to the university was not short; a carriage or steam train would have been preferable.

But with limited funds, walking was the only option.

Local aristocrats often cast curious glances his way.

The news of the original owner dismissing all his servants had spread throughout the area.

Yet no one approached to mock or scorn; their looks carried a hint of pity instead.

The foolish acts of Voltaire Campbell were no secret among the Rune aristocracy, serving as a cautionary tale for many to discipline themselves and their heirs, lest they become the next prodigal.

In this regard, Voltaire Campbell had made a certain contribution to the Rune aristocratic class.

With a resigned heart but a composed face, Hastur greeted any familiar nobles he encountered.

After a walk of over two hours, he finally arrived at Beckland University.

As a baron, Hastur received a warm welcome from the university and was quickly enrolled in the courses he sought.

The law training class allowed attendance until nine in the evening, and Hastur's request for a flexible schedule was granted.

It was akin to hiring a private tutor, albeit at a higher cost.

As for when to settle the tuition fees, the university was not in a hurry, trusting in a baron's ability to afford such expenses, despite his current financial straits.

This arrangement pleased Hastur.

With his business concluded, dusk was settling in.

Instead of heading home, Hastur detoured to visit a noble with whom he had a decent relationship.

Viscount Glaint.

Since the original owner began pursuing mystical knowledge, he had met Viscount Glaint, a fellow seeker of the mystical arts, and they had exchanged ideas several times, maintaining a decent relationship.

Of course, it was just that—decent. If not for the connection to Audrey, Hugh, and Fols, Hastur would have sought out a closer noble friend.

Viscount Glaint's eyes lit up upon seeing Hastur, and he greeted him with an enthusiastic embrace.

He was one of the few aware of Hastur's upcoming resurrection ritual.

Had Hastur not visited, Glaint would have found an excuse to check on him in a few days.

"My friend, you seem more spirited than ever."

"Yes, thanks to the ritual's blessings and the Goddess's protection."

Hastur wasn't lying; without that ritual, he wouldn't have come to this world.

Glaint's eyes burned with even greater fervor as he led Hastur to a private room. Once seated, he eagerly inquired about the details of the resurrection ritual.

Hastur didn't hold back, explaining that the ritual had failed and describing the process, omitting only the part about replacing the original owner.

Glaint expressed regret: "If only we could witness the miracle of resurrection."

"No, that would not be good at all," Hastur murmured to himself.

Beings capable of true resurrection were incredibly powerful. If Glaint, a mere mortal, witnessed it directly, he would likely go mad or die.

Hastur smiled and said, "The pursuit of such miracles is precisely why we study the mystical arts."

"Indeed."

After some small talk, Hastur revealed the purpose of his visit.

He needed a sum of money to purchase a lawyer's potion formula and the extraordinary materials required, as well as to cover daily expenses until he found a new way to earn money.

Glaint was generous. Hastur had intended to borrow 1,000 pounds for emergencies, but Glaint offered 2,000 pounds without hesitation.

His only condition was that Hastur share any new mystical discoveries with him.

Hastur naturally saw no reason to refuse.

They discussed mystical knowledge, with Hastur selectively sharing some basic insights.

Glaint was captivated, feeling his generous loan was a worthwhile investment.

As their conversation continued, night deepened outside. Caught up in the discussion, Glaint insisted on having Hastur stay for dinner.

This was far better than Hastur returning home to a meal of oat bread.

After dinner, Glaint kept Hastur for a while longer.

Thinking it over, Hastur steered the conversation towards the manuscripts left by Emperor Roselle.

(End of Chapter)