Black Iron’s Glory

Chapter XVI Accidents

Unexpected by Claude, it was almost nine o'clock when he got home, but there were several carriages parked in front of the big red brick house, and it appeared that several guests had not left.

“No way, it's so late. Why haven't you left yet?” At first glance, the restaurant had no guests, the mother was mopping the floor with a mop, and the smell of alcohol and vomit was hidden in the air.

In this age of no air fresheners, all mothers can do is open the windows and doors and expect the wind to bring fresh air at night.

When she saw her second son enter the door, her mother stood up and asked, “Why are you back so late? Have you eaten? ”

“I've eaten.” Claude nodded: “Eating at Ike's, he said Father had dinner, so I didn't come back. ”

Put the bag down, Claude went up and picked up the mop: "Mother, I'll do it. Are there any guests? ”

“Well," the mother said upstairs: “They were in the study, and your father seemed to be talking to them about the investment, and there was a lot of fighting. There's no need to drag it. I've already dragged it. ”

“By the way, where's Anna and Little Booker? ”

“Little Booker was taking a nap, and I asked Anna to take him to the third floor to sleep first. With so many guests today, Little Booker was very excited and noisy all night, and now it's finally quiet. ”

Mother sat on the chair and seemed tired enough tonight.

“By the way, Claude, you want some more food? Tonight the chef is Piedad, who made a lot of good food. I left you a copy in the kitchen. I'll bring it to you if you want...”

“No, Mother, I have plenty to eat at night. Father, when do they end? ”

“What's the matter? You want to talk to your father? ”

“No, I want to go to the study to get the Gouhez dictionary, I need it for class tomorrow. ”

“Later, then. I think they're almost done. Why don't you go upstairs and wait for your father to drop off the guests before you come down and get them. ”

“Well, the floor is ready, I'll go upstairs first. ”

Returning to his little attic, he endured the excitement of his heart, lit the oil lights, shut the door, and Claude jumped at his schoolbag.

Silver hair cards for my sister and little pirate figures for my brother, they can be given to them in the morning and put aside first. Claude shuddered to pull the magic recipe out of the bag, flipped it open, and focused his attention on the brown and yellow pages with the light of the oil lamp. Soon, the pages began to change again, and the dark blue lines of Gukherz text appeared on the ivory white pages.

Claude was reluctant to take a knife down to get rid of all the guests in the study and bring up the Gouhez dictionary. With that dictionary in hand, it's easy to decipher such a dark blue Gukherz text. Even if there is a grammatical error, a word translation is roughly understood.

But now Claude has to hold on to his impatience and wait patiently for the Guest to leave. It's been a long time, I don't care to wait a little longer, even if it's like countless ants climbing in my heart, this time it has to be tolerable.

But maybe I can do something else during this waiting period. Claude suddenly remembers, is this the only magic recipe that has these dark blue Gukherz texts on it, or would other pages do the same? Try it yourself...

The recipe consists of seventeen pages, each containing the practice of a dish. Page 1, page 2, page 3… page 5… page 8… page 10, each page shows those dark blue fonts.

Claude was getting excited, and it was obvious that the recipe must have been a disguise, and the dark blue fonts it hid were the real focus. If this recipe has only one page of these blue Gukherz texts, then perhaps it's just a clue, as the legendary novels describe, that a treasure map is hidden in a book.

But this recipe has only seventeen pages, and now it's turned to page ten, and each page changes to reveal these dark blue fonts, which means that the recipe itself is a magic book, and the recipe only serves as a cover.

Like Ike, Boa and them, and the new owner of the old Monk grocery store, Wakuri, in their eyes, this is a recipe, the only thing worth mentioning is that this recipe is made of veterinary leather paper, it's a little old, it's kind of an antique, it's worth a little money...

If it weren't for the bad light, I wouldn't have stared at it, then maybe I wouldn't have discovered the secret of the recipe. Perhaps I could just flip it a few times and put it back on the wooden lattice so I could lose my arm with this magic book...

Claude turned the eleventh page with emotion, closed his thoughts and continued to stare at the pages, ready to see if the seven pages behind also had dark blue Gouhez script.

It just didn't occur to Claude that when the page began to change, the original brown yellow color retreated around, revealing the middle ivory white page and a line of dark blue fonts, Claude suddenly had a black in front of him, and it felt like he was in the dark all of a sudden, or the kind of black that he couldn't reach out to...

Claude was shocked and wanted to get up, but found himself limb weak, unable to move at all, and seemed unable to control his own body as usual. I can't hear anything. I feel like I'm dying. I can't even breathe on my own. Even if I keep my big mouth open, I still feel holding my breath and panic...

What's going on here? In a brief moment, countless thoughts pass through Claude's mind, evil magic? Or does this recipe cover up the magic book itself with a curse? Am I winning? Am I going to die? Are you blind or deaf now? Can I still make a sound...

Calm down, I have to calm down, but the panic is spreading...

After a long time, it was a long time in Claude's senses, and he finally heard a voice, "Boom, boom, boom..." continuously.

This is his own heartbeat, and Claude seems to feel his heart beating vigorously, seeming to see the blood vessels around his heart pumping blood to his heart constantly. Then the ears began to return to normal and slowly heard the conversation between father and guest coming from the second floor study...

A blurry light gradually appeared in front of me. It was the oil lamp on the table. Although the outline was not clear, I could still feel the heat and light coming from the flame...

The limbs are also starting to regain consciousness and the body can move. Claude, close your eyes hard, open them again, close them again, open them again...

Finally, Claude was able to see clearly, stood up and started to move, feeling that apart from a little dizziness in his head and a little soreness in the temples on both sides, he could confirm that his body was not unusual, and then discovered that even a few minutes had passed, as can be seen from the time scale on the hourglass on the table.

But what happened to the dark and the uncontrolled? Is this really the magic recipe on the table?

Claude came to the table and gazed again at the magic recipe.

It's just that this time the pages haven't even started to change, and Claude feels like it's dark again. However, this time, there is no feeling of falling into darkness, you can still feel the brightness of the oil lamp, and the body can still move, which is that the temples on both sides are more painful...

Got it... Claude planted his head in his bed and scared himself for half a day, actually using up all his mental strength. It took me more than half an hour to focus all my attention on that magic recipe, just like the characters in the computers in my past life, I also had a mental limitation, and of course I would feel unusual if I ran out of it.

Raise your head, blow out the oil lamp, and let yourself lie down for a while. It seems that even if you look at this magic recipe in the future, you should be careful not to accidentally repeat it again.

Claude thought, watching the silver moonlight fall from the sky, projecting through open windows onto the table, and on the bed, leaving Claude covered in silver all over her upper body.

The moonlight is like water... No, Claude, how can you feel refreshed and moist? The moonlight shined on his head, as if there was a kind of silk cooling to moisturize his skin, as if the spring rain had fallen on dry land, even the dizziness in his head and the rising pain in the temple areas on both sides were obviously a little relaxed...

This is not a delusion! Could the moonlight still heal the trauma? Or can you speed up your mental response?

Looking up at the silver moon like the disc hanging high in the sky, and thinking about it as a magical world, then as a traveler, you should remain calm, not surprised, about these irrational things.

Don't you think you can just try and find out?

Claude climbed out of bed, took off his linen socks, put his barefoot on the table, drilled out of the attic window, and stood on the roof.

Well, go a little further, so it won't be blocked by the windows, and it won't be covered by the shadows of the attic, and unless the clouds cover the moon, the moonlight will shine on itself.

Claude lay down in the middle of two lofts, this is the roof, covered with wood tiles and not much inclination, so it felt good to lay flat. Just be careful, don't lie comfortable falling asleep and rolling down is no big deal...

It is certain that the moonlight really helps to soothe the depleted mental power. Claude only laid on the roof for about half an hour and felt his head start to sober, the temples on both sides no longer hurt, and there was no such illusion as a sudden rise and contraction.

Bathed in a silver moonlight, his mood gradually calmed down and a comfortable atmosphere overflowing his side made Claude feel lazy and unwilling to climb back into the attic. Hearing began to recover, and even so far away, he could still hear the conversation coming from the study on the second floor, but he couldn't hear clearly, but his father seemed to be delivering guests.

How come there's a big brother's voice mixed with a woman's voice, and Father invited a female guest to the party tonight? No, it's unlikely, let alone this late. Please go to the study.

No, it's coming from this side. Claude grunted up and looked to the attic on the left. The attic was also rented out in memory, and the tenant was a young woman, as if she were twenty-six or seven years old, whose mother had gossiped to her father at dinner before, what was her name, Miss Christina, saying that she did not speak and behave like a decent woman.

But the father said that Miss Christina was a financial officer of a certain business in town, which she forgot herself, but the father confirmed that she was the director of that business before renting it. She had a serious job and told her mother not to comment behind her back...

It doesn't matter, the question is, why is it that at this time my brother, Albert, who is very wrong with himself, will be in this loft rented by Miss Christina...