The Legend of Fatality

"Then I will just say it." Ren said, holding the lantern high. Looked over the rows of books in the library. "Calder tells you not to go to Crawford-Ton-Brahch."

"In a sense, yes." Eichmann said while sitting down. Looking at the bundle of parchment on the narrow writing desk in front of him. The library is small and crowded, and it seems to fill every empty space with moldy old books.

"Are you ignoring him?"

"I've never ignored Fernandes-Calder's words. As I often tell you, hierarchy is very important." Eichmann said without even looking up.

"So you still ignored his orders, which is why I am confused."

Eichmann did not answer, but continued to rummage through the parchment. They were scattered on the table, tied with twine, and some were scattered on the wooden floor like autumn leaves. The night had long fallen, and only candles were lit in the damp library. The shelves are arranged along the wall, and each shelf is stuffed with more parchment paper. The low ceiling makes it dark and scary.

"Calder doesn't want to make a big fuss at Rilmas." Eichmann said. "I can understand. But, as you may remember, when Jerome was with us, he didn't talk about Realmas. He was talking about the western island with a black tower on it. So I started thinking. "

He turned page after page, looking down at the rows of small, rough writing. Some have faded in the manuscript and are difficult to read under candlelight. Echmann narrowed his eyes and felt a headache hit.

A few yards away, the only guard in the library moaned softly, shaking his head listlessly, eyes half open. He curled up beside the door frame, his hands were tied tightly, and his mouth was stuffed with cloth. Rennes strode to his feet, withdrew the sledgehammer, and beat him hard. There was a muffled noise and the guard's head hit his chest.

"I hope you didn't kill him." Eichenman frowned.

"Maybe not." Ryan glanced at him roughly, holding the lantern and walking back to Eichmann. "But I still don't understand what you mean."

Acherman's fingers crossed a long list of names, the parchment was dry and crisp, and the fragments scattered down his fingertips.

"Black Tower. This is what Gerald said. We can spend our whole life running to the sea to find an island with a Black Tower, but we can never find it. But someone at Realmas knows where it is."

Acherman licked his fingers, turned the pages of the book, and squinted at the information between the lines in the dense words.

"If I manage an association that I want to keep secret, I will put it firmly in a place completely controlled by me. If I am the kind of person who owns a large estate, in a quiet corner of the country, away from people, away The Templar Knights, who are nosy, I would prefer to do so. "

Ryan looked down at the text in Eichmann's hand and failed to understand anything. Although he has learned a lot in his colorful and lucky life, reading has never made him useful, and even his relationship with Eichmann has not changed this idea.

"Like Crawford-Don-Braht." Ren said, he finally caught up with Eichmann's ideas.

"Very good." Eichmann nodded and said. "This location may not be publicly listed, but if you look carefully, you will always find some information. I just found out shortly after I arrived here that Realmas was surprisingly keen to record their business transactions in triplicate .May be related to the climate here. "

A glimpse of joy arising from understanding flashed across Ryan's face, followed by a worried frown.

"He will not leave a written record."

Acherman paused, revealing a trace of anger.

"Yes, he won't leave a record. That's why we are not in the Crawford-Town-Brahch archive room, and strictly speaking, we have not violated any of the esteemed officers published in the temple Order. If you pay attention to the coat of arms on the door of this house, you will know that we are in the archive of the legal adviser of the Yurbino family. "

At this time, Ren seemed very confused.

"I was busy at the time," he muttered, remembering the heads he had slammed them together so that he could enter the sewer of this building. "To be honest, I started to get confused about these names."

Eichmann did not answer.

"Hah, but it's funny." He raised his eyes and looked at a fuzzy scribble on the parchment in front.

"Come on, Rennes, please."

Ryan put the lantern close to the table, letting the light shine on the parchment that seemed to be shattered.

"Yes." Eichmann said. "interesting."

Acherman took a knife from his belt, cut the parchment horizontally, and pulled a sheet out of something like an account book. The name is written in one of the columns, with numbers and official seals next to it. He waved parchment in front of Rennes with a rare expression of victory on his face.

"Katra Zhabha! It can't be more clear ~ www.wuxiaspot.com ~ Hm? Black Tower, let's take a look: The Black Tower is considered to have been destroyed and has only nominal value. It was Yulbin centuries ago. The Nuo people took it. The ownership was acquired by the Earl of Reynal-Urbino through the eldest son's inheritance, and was inherited by his niece Alida-Urbino in 1410, thirty years ago, without any records since. "

Eichmann was very satisfied. He rolled the parchment and stuffed it into the pocket in the fur coat. He stood up from the table, took the hat tightly on his head, and adjusted the brim.

"That's it, Ren. This is where we are going. You should be happy-there are many opportunities to smash some heads, and as long as we are out of town, no one can stop you."

Acherman left the room and walked out the way they came. Ryan followed him, kicking the parchment to the side while walking.

"Sounds interesting." He said honestly. "But what does this have to do with Crawford-Don Brahe?"

Achermann turned around and looked at Rennes slightly angrily.

"I told you, Ren. Alida-Urbino, Kaitraza Castle belongs to her."

Ren was still blank.

"Over the past two decades," Eichmann said slowly. "The Countess Alida-Yulbinno has always been Lady Alida-Don Brahe. That is to say, according to the law and all the practices, Kaitrazaborg also belongs to him."

Eichmann's eyes shone under the candlelight, and he seemed more enthusiastic about his work than a few days ago.

"‘ There ’is where he can manipulate," he said. "Trust me, my most dangerous and useful friend, that's where the secret lies."