Steampunk: Sixth Era Epic-Chapter 579 - Priests Last Words

Chapter 579: Chapter 579: Priest’s Last Words Chapter 579: Chapter 579: Priest’s Last Words And so, the Outlander had genuinely attained the title of “1853 Big City Player: King of Roder Card” on this autumn night, after experiencing a splendid card game.

After the game ended, the formal award ceremony was conducted as per the procedure. Reflecting on the event later, Shard barely remembered how many people he had shaken hands with; he only remembered people cheering and clapping for him, holding the golden trophy inscribed with “1853 Big City Player: King of Roder Card” and shaking hands with the vice president of the Prophet’s Society, then receiving a 3000-pound bank draft and that special rule Roder card, “Big City Player: 1853 Tobesk Champion.”

Other rewards sponsored by local clubs and shops required Shard to visit the association within a week to sign some documents to claim them. As for the trophy, Shard planned to place it in his living room for every visitor and client to see.

As for the special card, all “Big City Player Champion” series card rules were the same, allowing the holder to inspect one of the opponent’s unrevealed hole cards when drawn, a rule jestingly called “The Champion’s Privilege” by card players.

While not as renowned as the “Genesis” series, compared to the other bizarre rules Shard had encountered, the “Big City Player Champion” rules were indeed quite simple and useful.

Moreover, the significance of this card lay not only in its value but also in its honor. And if Shard were willing to sell this card, the selling price would undoubtedly exceed the prize money.

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After all, each “Big City Player Champion” series of Roder cards was truly, in every sense, a Roder card that would never be reissued.

The only surprise during the award process was that the association traditionally took a solo photo of Shard to hang in a private room at the headquarters of the Prophet’s Society, alongside photos of other former champions. Although Shard was reluctant to have his image too widely shown to strangers, once he heard the photo would be placed in a private room, not open to all visitors, he agreed.

This was, after all, a sense of ceremony and also the most profound mark the Outlander had left in this world thus far.

Relieved at the end of the match, Shard, accompanied by his cat and Miss Maid, then attended the subsequent dinner.

Although Tifa often accompanied Miss Galina to various banquets, most of the time she appeared as a maid; hence opportunities like now, to attend the banquet as a participant, were very rare.

Both enjoyed the banquet immensely until after the last dance, when they left together.

Miss Galina arranged a carriage parked at Saint Delan Square to take Tifa back, so they walked together towards Saint Delan Square under the night sky.

But as soon as they entered the square, they saw two carriages stopped in front of the Shard’s house. The smoking coachmen were chatting together, while Director Anlos looked up at the lighting of the surrounding buildings in Saint Delan Square.

“Shard!”

He waved to Shard, and when they approached, he cautiously greeted Tifa:

“Miss Servit, it’s a pleasure to see you here.”

“Good evening, Sir Anlos.”

Tifa politely responded, handing the coat she had draped over her shoulders to Shard. Blinking, she kissed his cheek:

“Tonight has been delightful. Good night, Shard. Sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams!”

Shard and Tifa waved goodbye, and Tifa even reached to pat Shard’s shoulder where Mia was perched, but Mia blocked her with a little paw.

Miss Maid boarded the carriage, bade farewell to Shard once more from the carriage window, and then the carriage carried her away from Saint Delan Square. During this time, Chief Dark Anlos stood quietly behind Shard, not making any comments.

“I remember, your neighbor on this side is Mr. Smith?”

After Tifa left, the gentleman’s first comment seemed casual.

“Yes, I remember he used to be a secretary at the Kingdom Treasury Department.”

Shard said, pulling out his keys to open the door, but Director Anlos stopped him:

“I won’t go up. Congratulations, Shard, the game was spectacular.”

He clearly hadn’t been to the Prophet’s Society, yet it was as if he knew everything.

“Thank you.”

“So, has Vigil Cameron shown any unusual movements? He has bought a train ticket for tomorrow morning, returning to the Duchy of Seth. If nothing unusual happens tonight, there may not be another chance.”

It was a critical question, yet Director Anlos managed to mention it in a very steady tone.

The two stood between the carriage and the doorway, the shadow of the carriage concealing them, Shard cautious:

“Apart from me, Vigil Cameron had no contact with anyone else during the competition. Of course, that’s just my observation; perhaps the other side has some special method.”

He spoke frankly, then added:

“If the Grey Hawk really appeared, it must have been while I closed my eyes, that Cameron exchanged information.”

“Closed your eyes” here was a metaphor, meaning Shard wasn’t paying attention.

“As expected, the other side is, after all, an ace spy.”

Director Anlos said softly.

“But, it’s not without any gains.”

Shard hesitated for a moment before speaking:

“I made a brief contact with Vigil Cameron during the card game. When chatting about Midshire Fort City, he seemed a bit off…”

Thus, Shard recounted the fabricated story he had prepared, detailing Mr. Cameron’s unusual reaction upon hearing “Midshire Fort City.”

As Director Anlos listened, he frowned, and eventually, narrowing his eyes, he nodded:

“Midshire Fort, huh? That city is close to the Duchy of Seth… I see, this is very useful.”

He did not reveal to Shard MI6’s stance on this piece of information:

“However, you should not take such risks in the future. If something happened to you, I would have no way to explain it to Miss Galina.”

“Since I am a man of MI6, it is only natural that I work for MI6.”

Shard stated seriously, a remark that brought a smile to Director Anlos:

“If only all my subordinates were like you, that would be splendid.”

“Like me…”

Although Shard’s expression didn’t change, the woman beside him had already started to chuckle lightly.

“Well then, Shard, I must be leaving as well. Remember, this matter doesn’t concern you; do not get involved.”

Director Anlos patted Shard on the shoulder:

“Regarding your pay raise, someone will notify you in a few days. Impressive, champion of the 1853 Big City Player.”

He nodded with a smile and then departed from Saint Delan Square in a carriage.

With hands clasped behind his back, Shard, carrying a cat, watched from his doorway under a street lamp as Director Anlos’s carriage disappeared at the corner of the square.

He did not immediately return home but instead squinted and looked up at the moon:

“Is my identity becoming more complex?”

“Outlander, as you wander this world and witness these stories, the direction of fate is your own choice.”

“Yes.”

Shard sniffed and then noticed that the cat on his shoulder was batting at his collar. Surprised, he reached out and pulled a black strand of hair from inside his collar. Shard knew only one girl with black hair, so this hair definitely belonged to Tifa.

He hesitated and sniffed it; indeed, it carried the distinct scent of that special perfume, “Witch’s Scent.”

“This action makes me look like a pervert… but indeed, it’s an interesting souvenir.”

He shook his head and opened the door.

Shard shoved the hair and a 3000-pound bank draft into his study’s drawer, placed the trophy on the living room cabinet, set the special coin he had “bought” from Mr. Cameron in the gift box in the basement, and decided to deliver the fountain pen with the information tomorrow.

After everything was arranged, Shard stood in the living room and took a deep breath. He planned to give himself the night off, not to read until dawn, but to go to bed early instead. When the sun rose again from the east, he would plan out the next half a week’s schedule.

He had plenty to do; the 3014 key had already been delayed three days, and by now Priest Augustus should have reached Midshire Fort; he was still waiting to receive a postcard from the priest.

“Tonight, nothing can spoil my good mood.”

As Shard brushed his teeth in the washroom, facing the mirror in his pajamas, he thought happily to himself.

“Really?”

She sighed softly in his ear:

“Do you feel that a similar conversation has taken place before?”

With a toothbrush in his mouth, Shard looked at the mirror before him where no one appeared behind him:

“Of course I remember, a similar conversation occurred before the second coming of the Lord of the Blood Feast. But tonight, an Evil God couldn’t possibly appear; there are no signs of it. So even if I have a nightmare later after falling asleep about ‘Shard dying in a fight with Mia,’ it won’t affect my mood.”

He thought cheerfully.

After washing up, he checked the doors and windows at home, turned off the gas lamp in the bedroom, drew the curtains tight, then climbed into the soft bed. Mia had already jumped on the bed and was walking around the pillow, looking for the softest spot.

Shard, sitting on the bed, waved toward the desk in the bedroom where a stack of 54 Roder cards flew over and lined up in four rows in front of Shard. Each row had 13 cards, with the King and Queen floating aside.

Mia, standing by the pillow, looked up at the floating cards as Shard lightly touched each special card:

“Really nice.”

With a wave of his hand, the cards flew back to the nightstand, stacking up neatly. Shard snuggled into the bed, laughing as he pet Mia by the pillow, bidding the cat goodnight. He extinguished the gas lamp on the nightstand, patted the pillow, lay down, and closed his eyes, soon drifting into a peaceful sleep amidst the darkness.

As his consciousness slipped into a drowsy blur within the safety of his home, even a vigilant outlander could enjoy the sleep. Yet, in the dream, a low, ethereal, hollow, and raspy voice repeatedly murmured, gradually arising:

“Shard Hamilton, open your eyes, I am Lat August. This is my final message to you from the world of the deceased.”