Chapter 358 A Series of Trivial Matters

The most important festival of the year was perfectly spent.

That night, Clayton gave his niece a sharp dagger, and the return gift was an unfinished thing, which was a script tailored for him by Donna. It was a magnificent masterpiece that a talented girl like her might spend a month to complete.

When they said goodbye to each other before going to bed, Donna asked Clayton again if he could not go to school. She quietly told him that she was avoiding school not because she was afraid of studying, but because she had a very important reason. But when Clayton mentioned it, she said that this reason was protected by the guardian spell and could not be mentioned by her initiative.

"When you become like me, you will know why I don't want to go to school." She was full of emotion like an old man.

Clayton looked at this beautiful 15-year-old girl, shook his head and rejected her as a matter of course, and decided to record this unsolved mystery in his life in his biography.

The next day, they went to Pero's funeral without Cuitius.

The body of old Pero spent the last festival with his family, lying in the coffin looking particularly peaceful.

Barbara didn't seem angry with Clayton. She greeted him warmly, took the initiative to admit her fault, and asked her children, big and small, to call him uncle. Donna also became the sister of these children.

The Presbyterian Church helped Barbara's family solve many life problems, but Clayton found that she still seemed to be worried about something and would be absent-minded from time to time at the funeral.

Julius also attended the funeral. He had a bandage on his nose, his clothes were full of pockets, and he was holding a birdcage in his hand. His weird hairstyle and style were out of tune with the funeral scene.

The pastor who presided over the funeral was very young. He was dressed in black, his back was straight, and his voice was loud and firm when he prayed for the old man. Clayton couldn't help but think that he might not know the identities of the guests at the funeral, otherwise he wouldn't be so confident.

After Pero's eldest son shoveled the last shovel of soil, the children sank the coffin to the bottom of the pit and then covered it with soil.

After that, Pero's family stayed to continue mourning, and the guests gradually left here.

Julius found Clayton and stuffed the birdcage into Clayton's hands, but Clayton returned it.

"She hasn't left yet." The antique dealer told him seriously, and then left with his niece.

What he didn't know was that after he left, Julius stood there for a long time with the birdcage in his hand.

The wizard looked at the birdcage sadly, and there was a chirping sound from it again.

She hasn't left yet.

In the early morning of the second day after the funeral, Cuitisi disappeared in the new house of Bello.

She concealed the time of departure from Donna and chose to leave when her daughter was asleep. It was Clayton who sent her to the train station. This was to avoid the sadness of parting.

At 5:30 in the morning, the train was lying on the track like a giant python, but the steam boiler had not yet boiled, and there were only a few people on the platform, basically railway company employees wearing gray-brown uniforms. The large clock hands on the load-bearing columns were ticking, which was distracting.

Cuititis dragged her suitcase into the platform, and Clayton stood behind her, intending to wait until she got on the train.

If things didn't go well, this might be their last meeting.

Cuititis took a few steps toward the train and turned to look at Clayton.

For a moment, he thought she was going to change her mind and stay, but she didn't. She just asked him a question.

"Clayton, do you still have Ulen in your heart?"

This question was simply inexplicable.

But Clayton still answered: "I always have him in my heart."

He remembered every family member in his heart.

But Cuititis shook her head without showing any expression: "You don't look like you have Ulen in your heart, but you have one in your stomach."

After saying that, she turned and walked into the belly of the steam python, leaving Clayton in shock.

It wasn't until he reached the door of his house that he realized that Cuititis was telling a joke about his swelling body.

"What a jerk!" He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Donna had already gotten up. Clayton waited in the restaurant to tell her that Cuitisi had left. She cried for a while, but after breakfast, she was happy as if nothing had happened and went to class with the tutor.

Clayton liked this kind of personality. There was no such option as "heartbreak" in the death of people like her.

Calculating the time, he should also find his own happiness.

Just when he was about to go out again and get drunk in the pub, someone suddenly came to visit again.

"Mr. Belleau, there are some things you need to deal with about Gevaux."

This stranger looked sneaky, carrying weapons, and talking from a distance. Clayton almost wanted to shoot him, but fortunately he proved in time that he belonged to the Presbyterian Church.

"Are you afraid of me?" Clayton asked.

The messenger of the Presbyterian Church stammered and denied it, but refused to sit in the same carriage with him.

Fifteen minutes later, their carriage stopped at a Presbyterian stronghold, and the messenger led him in.

This place is a very large warehouse, with many empty bottles of Senweit beer packed in boxes, stacked up layer by layer, forming many impenetrable high walls. And in the open space in the center of the maze of high walls formed by these boxes, is where the Darkborn, church members, and government employees gather.

A dozen people are standing here in a scattered manner, and you can tell which faction they belong to just by looking at their clothes.

The low-level clergy of the church wear black and white clothing according to the doctrine, government employees only wear formal clothes, and there are only two of them, while the Presbyterians all wear loose coats in order to cover up the traces of alienation on their bodies.

There are no chairs here, and the only person sitting is Chud Osmar. He has his hands tied behind his back, sitting on a pile of wooden boxes and gasping weakly, with blood flowing from his maroon temples.

A government employee looked down at Osmar: "He still dares to make conditions with us."

"Here comes the man," his companion reminded him.

Clayton walked closer under the gaze of these people, and the black coat on his body blended well into the other members of the Presbyterian Church.

"Is this Mr. Bello?" The government employee stepped forward to shake hands with him: "Actually, we have asked almost everything from this prisoner, but there are some things that he is still unwilling to reveal and insists on asking first. I can’t speak until I see you.”

He let go of his hand and took a book from the box next to him: "Look at this testimony record. If it is true, then sign your name below."

Clayton's pupils slid from left to right in his eye sockets, and he did not see the figure of Priest Lewis, while the other members of the Presbyterian Church did not show any abnormalities. So he lowered his head to look at the testimony record, wrote his name after confirming it was correct, and handed the notebook back to the government employee.

The government employee nodded with satisfaction, put the notebook under his arm, and looked at Osmar again.

"Is it time for you to speak now? Where did you get that land deed? It was recovered by the late king a long time ago and is a state-owned asset. And you should not get it."

The red-headed man slowly raised his head, raised his split lips, and showed a ferocious smile to the inquirer. Blood had covered his gums. It seemed that he had not been having a good time during this period.

"A good man gave me that, and he wore the same clothes as you."

The Presbyterians laughed, and the churchmen glared at the government employees.

However, this clerk seemed to be used to this kind of look. He just sighed: "Ah - our good colleague", and then continued to wait for Osmar to spit out more information.

"Name, I want a name."

"This is the second request."

Osmar's answer was obviously unsatisfactory. The clerk kicked him hard in the abdomen. He began to vomit blood and his eyes rolled up. The priest next to him immediately rushed to cure him with medicine and miracles.

When the treatment was complete, the priest looked at the clerk seriously.

"I don't recommend to torture him anymore. His physical condition is already very bad."

"Great." The clerk said to Osmar: "Did you hear it? Tell me your request. If I am free later, I can bring you a pacifier."

The red-headed man who just woke up looked at Clayton with a thought-provoking look: "I want to talk to Clayton Bello alone."

Now everyone was looking at Clayton.

The werewolf frowned: "I don't think I have anything to talk to you about."

"Indeed, but they will make you agree to talk to me." Chud Osmar coughed up blood and glanced at the government employee. "You need me now."

The government employees looked ugly.

The loss of land deeds is no small matter, even though the land is just a useless swamp, but it is no small matter when it comes to the embezzlement of state-owned assets.

"Don't do it," he told Clayton, and he and the others left the clearing.

Clayton's ears moved. Those people didn't go far at all. They only took a few steps and were now standing behind a high wall made of empty boxes, listening to the conversation here.

He spoke to Osmar: "I'm curious about what you are going to do. Our hatred seems to be greater than others."

"I don't care about those. What I want to say to you is just a common request - please collect the body for Kuok." Before Osmar could finish speaking, he was interrupted by Clayton.

"I think you know very well that he didn't have a body and you did it yourself."

"Then bury him with the last clothes he wore, cremate him, and put the last ashes into an altar."

This is the burial method of a saint, but it is not a difficult matter.

"that's all?"

"That's it, but they still refuse to satisfy me." Osmar said calmly: "Actually, I mentioned this to them before, but the clergy did not agree to this exchange because they thought it was heretical behavior and decided to No compromise. A group of unbelievers, even the dark descendants, actually agree with them. But I believe you won’t care about this.”

Clayton couldn't help but laugh: "I don't care, but what happened to you? You were about to die before you realized your conscience?"

He had just read the testimony, and it turned out that Osmar's plan was all his own. Kuok, who came from the Doomsday Seeker sect, had actually stopped Osmar's evil deeds several times. Although they finally came together, But it cannot be said that it is not funny when this happens.

The red-headed man shook his head and licked the blood from his lips: "I do regret this, but if I succeeded, this is what I would have done. My mind has never changed. As long as your situation is the same as mine, You will understand my motivation."

Clayton smiled even wider, beginning to think that this was a better place to entertain people than a tavern.

"Same situation? Do you mean that you have the power to change luck, but you can still mess everything up? I really can't do that."

His words angered Osmar, and the red-headed man stared sinisterly into his face.

"You have to agree to my request before I will agree to the requests of those humans. If they can't get what they want, they will come to you."

"Okay." Clayton said indifferently.

"Swear by your name."

The effect of a name is sacred and solemn. There have been rumors among the people that violating an oath sworn by name may lead to misfortune. Even for honor, Clayton hates the act of breaking the promise after swearing by name, but he didn't intend to break the promise in the first place. Osmar's obsession is not difficult for him.

He is a dealer of antiques and has a private collection of altars in his warehouse. As long as he gets Kok's clothes, he can fulfill his promise.

After hearing Clayton's oath, Chude Osmar was reassured.

"How straightforward. If I didn't need you to be a sacrifice, maybe we could communicate in a friendly way, and you would agree with my approach."

Clayton sneered at his statement, but he still talked on his own.

"Tell me, Clayton Bello, do you worship your ancestors?"

"Which one?"

Clayton's question stunned Osmar.

"Among my ancestors there are both poor slaves and vicious slave owners; there are both high-ranking nobles and fugitives hiding their heads and tails. The blood of nobles and despicable people coexists in my veins. Which one of them are you asking about?"