Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 68 - Druid?

Chapter 68: Druid?

Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios

Returning after leaving for a few days, Amber, as expected, found that the scale of this camp was now bigger than before. There were now many houses constructed from wooden planks between the tents, and some drying yards, work sheds, and warehouses distributed around various areas of the camp. A new sawmill had been built by the White River, close to the simple temporary pier. Firm roads connected the camp to the various facilities along its perimeter; this place had taken on the form of a permanent residence, beginning the transformation from camp to territory.

The labor system that fellow had come up with turned out to be very effective.

That muddle-headed little maidservant had dashed off to inform her master. Meanwhile, Amber was in an idle daze in Gawain’s big tent, and beside her stood an old man dressed in dirty gray robes and a beret overflowing with messy hair and beard.

This old man, who looked as if he’d been dug out from the slums, was the ‘professional’ that Amber had found. At present, he was standing in the middle of the tent, carefully keeping a distance from all the items around. However, his eyes wandered, just like an unscrupulous merchant in a lord’s castle. Whereas Amber looked around at this tent that had stood up for a good half month and muttered, “Even the masons and carpenters have started living in wooden houses, yet he’s still in a tent. I really don’t know what he’s thinking…”

“Aye, aye,” the little old man beside her suddenly spoke then. “Was what you said true? Is he really the Gawain Cecil from seven hundred years ago? The one who the south has been abuzz with talk of?”

“Of course, it’s true.” Amber rolled her eyes at the little old man. “Could it be false when I was the one to personally dig him out? Let me tell you, the Cecil Clan may be this poor now, but their Ancestor is really impressive. His entire being is a portable treasure house…”

The little old man touched his matted beard. “As long as it’s true. Let me tell you, little girl. In the profession of antique appraisal, my capabilities are…”

Amber was stunned after listening to just half of what he had to say. “Eh? Wait a minute! Aren’t you a druid?!”

The old man immediately froze in the action of twiddling his beard. He looked at Amber with his mouth agape. “I—”

He’d just said the word “I” when the tent’s thick portiere was lifted. Bright light cast in then was immediately blocked by Gawain’s almost two-meter tall sturdy build. The little old man and Amber were startled at the same time.

Meanwhile, Gawain had noticed the stranger the moment he stepped in. He was dressed in a dirty robe that was an odd garb in between a tunic and a long robe, where almost all of the edges were frizzy. He also wore a beret of an irksome gray; there were even a number of holes on it. His hair and beard were matted; God knows how long he hadn’t washed them for. His person was old and shriveled, but his eyes were bright…

That’s right. —Insert ‘The True Style Of A Hermit.jpg’.

Gawain silently formed a judgment: this little old man almost perfectly fit his image of a druid living a sequestered life in the forests, with tons of ancient knowledge in grasp. Though if he’d seen him on another occasion, he would have taken him for a beggar in the slums. But Amber had said she was leaving to look for a druid, so what was before him must be a druid’s style.

A certain disgrace to the elves had really brought a druid back (or at the very least, he looked very similar to one). It seemed he had slightly misjudged Amber previously.

After apologizing to Amber internally, Gawain greeted the little old man on wide steps, “Welcome, in the name of the Cecil Clan. This land has been waiting for a true learned man for a very long time. I’m Gawain Cecil. You should have heard of my name.”

The little old man sobered from his temporary daze. An especially bright smile presently appeared on his face; the smile was so radiant that he became totally unlike a hermit. “Ah, your name is known to all on the continent. I am very pleased to be able to serve you and your territory.”

The old man continued, “May I know where the antiques to be appraised are—”

Gawain spoke simultaneously, “The arrival of a druid would definitely bring to this land—”

“Antique?” “Druid?”

The two people questioned each other in sync, with puzzled faces.

“Did I hear wrongly?” Gawain said, bewildered. “You mentioned antique appraisal? What I sent Amber to find was a druid…”

“Druid? Not an antique appraiser?!” The little old man was shocked as well. “I thought I was here to appraise antiques!”

The corners of Gawain’s mouth instantly twitched as his gaze involuntarily flickered to the half-elf girl at the side who was desperately trying to shrink her head into her abdomen. “How did this ‘Miss Half-Elf’ put it across to you?”

The little old man casually replied, “She said that she had dug up an old antique with seven hundred years of history. I rushed over without asking for the details…”

Gawain grabbed Amber’s pointed ears once he reached out; the latter immediately cried out, then instantly wormed out of Gawain’s hand, and disappeared into the ubiquitous shadows.

However, someone reacted even more quickly. Before this bandit could completely enter the shadow realm, Gawain shifted his steps and blocked Amber’s escape route, at the same time activating his knight protective aura. As the shapeless ring of light spread, Amber deliriously left her shadow state in an instant and crashed onto Gawain’s chest. She howled in pain then and there.

The camp’s defenses were inadequate; in order to respond to emergencies at any time, Gawain’s armor never left his body.

The iron-headed Rebecca had a bump when she crashed headfirst into Gawain, let alone the non-iron-headed Amber. The half-elf was disoriented from the collision. After leaving the shadow state, she held her head and made two circles on the spot before stopping after feeling her ears back in Gawain’s grip. She immediately shouted, “Hey, hey, hey! It hurts, it hurts! Let go, let go, let go…”

“What’s with the ‘antique from seven hundred years ago’?!” Gawain glared at this ultimate disgrace. “Where is the druid that I tasked you to find?!”

“He is the druid! How would I know about any antique appraisal?!” Amber felt extremely wronged. She desperately tried to break out of Gawain’s grip while shouting noisily, “I did casually mention that I’d dug out an ancient from seven hundred years ago, but I didn’t think he had actually misunderstood!”

The old man was dumbstruck as he watched the farce before him. At this point, he vaguely came to his senses, “Wait a minute, the antique from seven hundred years ago was Duke Gawain Cecil?”

“Stop mentioning ‘antique’! He’s about to kill with this grip!” Amber screamed. “Haven’t I told you! Gawain Cecil resurrected! He was personally awakened by me! But I did not ask for you to appraise him. I thought you understood me!”

The little old man stared. “I thought you had also robbed his tomb after awakening this ancient hero! I even wondered how you managed to bluff him into allowing someone to appraise the antiques after you’d robbed his tomb…”

Gawain: “…”

After going through every great name in history that he knew in his last life, Gawain finally suppressed the urge to throw Amber out. He looked at the little old man before him, at a loss of whether to laugh or to cry. “So… you’re not a druid then?”

Unexpectedly, the little old man stroked his beard after hearing this question and straightened his tattered gray robes before speaking in an inexplicable tone, “This would depend on the specific situation and your needs. If your terms here are suitable, I can also be a druid…”

Gawain was taken aback. “There is a ‘can be’ for druids?”

“Then are you a druid or not?” Gawain frowned. “I need a druid to support the construction of the territory’s agriculture, and I do not wish for any problems to surface in this project, so your answer had best be prudent.”

After the farce, he now had serious misgivings towards this little old man with the aura of a hermit.

Yet he saw the little old man crack a smile; then he took out an ordinary-looking seed. He casually threw the seed onto the ground, then picked up a glass from the table at the side, and poured some water on it. Following that, he muttered some incantations, and moments later, a speck of green began to glow from where the seed had been dropped.

The seed sprouted at a speed visible to the naked eye. Although it was a really tiny sprout, it was a great eye-opener for Gawain.

“Look, look! He is a druid!” Amber made a fuss at once. “Quickly release me! It hurts like hell!”

Gawain let go of the half-elf’s ears with a dumbfounded look and then stared oddly at the little old man. “So you really are a druid… but what’s with being an antique appraiser too?”

“I was a druid in my earlier years in the true Forest Heart faction.” The little old man stuck his chest out slightly and proudly spoke, “But an antique appraiser is also my occupation. You could say that there are barely any antique appraisers better than me in the entire southern borders.”

Gawain was puzzled. “A druid who studies flowers, birds, fishes, and insects and an appraiser who studies antique. How did you put these two unrelated professions together?”

“Mainly because I had no money.” The little old man shrugged, “I was too poor being a druid, so I started an avocation. And let me tell you, that’s not all I can do. If you’re short of a chef here, I also have some grilling and soup-making skills…”

It wasn’t just the corner of his mouth that trembled; even Gawain’s forehead throbbed for a moment. “As long as the price is right, you can even do fortune-telling. Am I right?”

The little old man held his beard. “That depends on how much you’re paying. If the price is suitable, I can learn it right away.”

Gawain looked up to the sky and sighed. He thought, this was indeed a person brought back by Amber; such a development was truly logical and expected. He had not underestimated Amber’s morals; neither had he overestimated her virtue. This ‘agriculture expert’ perfectly fulfilled Amber’s standards.

An utterly unreliable fellow, yet he really was a druid.

“Um… are you okay?” Amber watched Gawain’s reaction cautiously and only dared to speak up after some time. “At least he’s a real druid.”

“Well, it’s better than having none.” Gawain sighed and then lowered his head to look at the little old man. “Then from today onwards, you are the druid of the Cecil territory. I will give you a suitable remuneration… your grade?”

“Grade three druid from the Forest Heart faction. At the same time, also a grade three magic spell herbalist,” the little old man said smilingly. “And also a pretty good griller. Are you really not going to consider?”

Gawain quirked up the corners of his mouth. “No, I have a maidservant who cooks quite well. I will pay you according to the standards of hiring an official grade three spellcaster, but the premise is you have to refine a batch of drugs that boosts growth to prove yourself. We will provide the materials and tools.”

The little old man nodded heavily in satisfaction. “Of course, of course.”