I will be crowned king

Chapter 103 Good Girl

When Anson left from the side door of Clovis Cathedral, snow began to fall in the night sky shrouded in dark clouds, with gray-white goose feathers flying all over the sky, and the dim gas lamp became the only star in the night.

A smiling Angelica stood beside a carriage on the street waiting for him. In just a short while, there was already some snow on her head and shoulders.

"The carriage has been prepared for you, His Excellency Anson Bach." Seeing Anson walking quickly, the little maid with a sweet smile saluted: "Things have been rushed, and the reception this time is not good. Please be considerate."

"Ah...it's nothing. I should be the one who should say I'm sorry." Anson waved his hand and said:

"That, Sophia Franz..."

"The young lady has gone back first." The little maid blinked: "And you don't have to worry. Although she looks a little arrogant and has a strong self-esteem, she rarely holds grudges against others, let alone retaliates afterwards."

After a few words of relief, Angelica suddenly covered her mouth and chuckled.

"What's wrong?"

Anson was a little confused.

"Oh! It's nothing, Angelica is just a little...somewhat..." The little maid tried her best to hold back the corners of her mouth that wanted to raise, but the more she held back, the more she wanted to laugh:

"Let's put it this way, so far, you are probably the first person to make her feel so frustrated - or the first person to dare to do this - so it is possible that she is thinking about how to get revenge on you now. !”

"...Then why are you laughing?"

"Because it's interesting."

The little maid covered her mouth as a matter of course: "The grudge between the Archbishop's daughter and the young officer, this is a plot that only happens in the "Clovis Truth"; you can read it without spending a copper. Really, isn’t it interesting enough—ah, sorry, I’m rude!”

The little maid who wanted to laugh more and more hurriedly saluted, held up her skirt and ran all the way back to the cathedral, leaving the embarrassed Anson standing there alone, and boarded the carriage.

The city of Clovis is far more elegant at night than during the day. There is no lifeless fog, no muddy dirt on the streets, no noisy noises, and overcrowded carriages and pedestrians.

There was just a quiet city and thousands of lights decorating her gorgeous clothes like jewels.

Leaning against the carriage, Anson finally took a breath and panted slightly.

It was only then that he finally dared to relax a little and no longer tense his heartstrings.

Well, I’m too tired today, so I’ll put the diary and other things into tomorrow.

Relaxing his tired body, Anson slumped on the carriage seat and smiled lazily, while various flashbacks of this "wonderful day" kept flashing in his mind.

The intelligence and information obtained today are very large and complex, but every one of them is important.

Judging from various experiences in the "Secret Club", the Old God Sect organization of the Black Mage - Professor Mace Honnard - is very influential, but its scale is not large, because even within the royal capital there are still There are many "Old Gods" who are not organized and may not even be spellcasters.

This basically corresponds to Anson's earliest guess, that is, the so-called Old God Sect is just a nickname, symbolizing all the Old God believers, spellcasters and dark creatures. The whole is almost a mess, and there is no strict organization that can fight against the church.

Despite this, it is still very unrealistic to break away from this underground evil organization in the short term; not to mention that I am now a conjurer, and I want to obtain more and more practical magic, as well as all kinds of common sense and the best knowledge among spell casters. Basic knowledge is only possible now by relying on a black mage.

After all, a rare gathering like today only happens once a month, and even for "useless spells" like [Rui Feng], a magic book can be sold for a high price of two gold coins.

Anson couldn't imagine what a sky-high price it would be if he came across a truly "practical and powerful" magic book, and even if he did get it, what kind of trouble it would bring to him.

If you continue to stay in the Black Mage's organization, you will still be afraid of the risk of being knocked on the door by the Judgment Knights or the Inquisition; but within the "Old God Sect Group", your safety is guaranteed to a certain extent.

As for Archbishop Luther... Anson is still a little hesitant, but even if he really wants to accept his job, it's not a bad idea.

Anyway, in the eyes of the army, he was already a "traitor who had taken refuge in the church", and he would not be able to get a good job if he continued to wait. Instead, he might as well just decisively join the Franz family and find a better future in the church camp.

With his background in the Army and his talent, he might be able to enter the Judgment Knights or the Inquisition with good luck. Who would have guessed that he, a close aide of the Archbishop, would be a genuine spellcaster?

Moreover, with an official status on the surface, his position in the black mage's underground evil organization is more special and valuable; he will not be randomly assigned tasks that could lead to death just because he is a newcomer.

The carriage stopped outside the door of No. 55 Brayman Street. Anson, who was relieved, got out of the carriage and walked to the door. He took out his pocket watch while taking out the keys. He was slightly shocked when he saw that it was almost twelve o'clock.

It was 8:30 when I entered Archbishop Luther's study. The slowest trip from Red Brick Street to Boleman Street was no more than fifteen minutes... so I stayed with the old man in the study for three hours. above? !

But why does it feel like less than an hour has passed? !

Anson, who couldn't understand it at all, shook his head, gently opened the door, and walked up the stairs.

At this time, the apartment was completely dark, not to mention the gas lamp, even the fireplace in the living room had been extinguished.

Well, that's right. At this time, Lisa and Mrs. Bognar should have finished dinner and gone to bed... Anson quietly walked into the living room with his feet on his feet, took off his coat in the darkness, and slowly hung it on the hanger. .

"Gu."

A familiar voice sounded in the living room behind him, causing Anson to stop what he was doing.

After a second, he turned his head stiffly and looked in the direction of the sound; he saw a petite figure curled up on the sofa in front of the fireplace, hugging his calves and staring motionlessly at him.

"Lisa?"

"Anson..." Probably because she was hungry, Lisa's voice was a little soft, with a hint of crying.

Anson looked at her, then at the vegetable soup and bread that seemed to have gone cold on the table: "You didn't eat?"

Lisa seemed to hesitate for a moment, then nodded slightly.

"Why?"

"Because Anson hasn't come back yet." Lisa whispered, the crying tone in her nasal voice more obvious than before:

"Mrs. Bogner said that Anson is the head of the family, and if Lisa wants to be a good girl, she has to wait for the head of the family to come back before having dinner."

"Lisa, Lisa doesn't know what a good girl is..." she muttered, shrinking like a ragdoll cat: "But Lisa is willing to wait for Anson to come back."

What kind of crappy thinking is this? Anson simply doesn’t know what to say.

He sighed: "Are you hungry?"

Lisa wiped her face and nodded desperately.

"Then just be patient for a little while, and I'll heat up the stove." Anson patted her little head: "I'm just heating up the cold food, it'll be quick."

"But it's very late now." Lisa raised her head and looked at him: "Mrs. Bognar has gone to bed. She also said that a good girl shouldn't come back so late..."

"Tonight is a special case!" Anson emphasized:

"A good girl also needs to eat, and Lisa is already a good girl!"

"real?!"

"Of course it's true. Think about it, have I deceived you?" Anson's face turned red and his heart stopped beating, and he patted the hesitating little head again:

"Go and set the tableware. Dinner will be served in thirty minutes."

"Um!"

Looking at the cheerful figure running towards the kitchen, an idea suddenly popped into Anson's mind.

Should we send Lisa to a missionary college?

If she continues like this, God knows what Mrs. Bogner will teach her; but if she is sent to a missionary college, she may learn more "dross ideas"...

The hesitant Anson shook his head, rolled up his sleeves and walked towards the kitchen.

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