The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 1098 Ch.1097 Stubbornness
In the world of ritual practitioners, there is a common understanding regarding wondrous objects:

The price paid by the body is far less than that paid by the soul and spirit; the price paid by the soul and spirit is far less than that paid by fate.

meaning is.

They believe that the least costly are those that are 'visible and tangible':
For example, it might require consuming something difficult to swallow, or something that harms the body, or even causes more serious consequences—like exchanging candy with an unfamiliar and innocent child.

They are far more sincere than businessmen.

These kinds of wondrous objects are the most outstanding, the most ingenious, and the most favored by ritual practitioners.

Second.

It refers to the soul and spirit.

Some artifacts require the user's soul to be sacrificed, or their spirit to be damaged.

Reversible.

But often by the time the holder realizes it, it's too late.

This type usually requires extreme caution.

At last.

It is a strange object involving fate and cause and effect.

Generally speaking, these kinds of strange objects don't give too many scary 'warnings'—at least they seem much safer than the previous two types.

Just like the one Horn took from Florian.

It will only bring a minor disaster.

That's all the problem.

What kind of disaster could jeopardize an octagon?
Yes.

There was a guy named Jiu Huan who thought the same way.

Sean Westwick, Florian's ancestor, once possessed that artifact.

"...I met little Charles before I came in."

Theodore had no idea what Florian was thinking, and seeing him hanging his head and remaining silent, he lowered his voice.

"...He still misses the days when the three of us lived together."

Little Charles was 'picked up' by Theodore.

He found it during the days he led Florian around.

He still remembers that the child was huddled in a crimson swaddling cloth, barely able to cry.

During that time, Theodore had to be the uncle and father of a rebellious boy, and also temporarily act as the mother of a baby who cried incessantly all day long.

He was annoyed by it at the time, but now when he thinks about it, it makes him feel warm and fuzzy.

Everyone needs some happy memories.

Six years, or was it seven years?

Theodore thought.

As Florian grew older, he went from being a talkative and annoying person to becoming increasingly silent and gloomy.

Little Charles, on the other hand, was cheerful every day, as if nothing could make him turn down at the corners of his mouth.

He said he had saved up some money, enough for three boat tickets…

Theodore couldn't continue.

His feeble, helpless ramblings circled the walnut round table in the room a few times, like its owner, unable to find an exit in this labyrinth where there is always an ideal—whether it is yearning for nature or cruelty.

He usually led Florian like his real 'father,' always upright, brave, and shrewd, and wherever he went, Theodore always had endless good and bad stories about the destination.

But today.

He became 'Florian'.

Florian became him.

It seems that the descendants of Westevik no longer need anyone to guide them.

“I will talk to Horn.”

Theodore said.

He didn't think he was as 'naive' as Florian claimed—the Mother Tree and the Beast Teeth were indeed fighting over something that seemed utterly boring to him.

However, since Florian Westwick's ritual failed, many of the ritual practitioners who used the beast teeth lost their "qualifications"...

Theodore believed the fighting should end. No one in the "Great Vortex" could threaten Horn anymore. He couldn't, and Florian was even less likely to.

Maybe.

He could pay a price, or keep it a secret—whatever Horn wanted.

Pay some price.

In exchange, they would gain the freedom of Ms. Fonseca and Florian: and, incidentally, little Charles. The boy had little "aptitude," and rather than remain in the whirlpool, it would be better to take his ticket and return with him and Florian to their familiar port…

Theodore had thought about it.

If he were Horn, he would certainly agree to the request: Florian, as the last ritual officiant of the Westwick family, is clearly more influential than Horn himself in some respects.

Keeping Florian far away is a decision that benefits both sides.

Theodore believed that…

Logically, it's still correct, right?

As for 'illustrious blood'—it doesn't necessarily have to be Florian's.

In mysticism, the meaning of prominence is not static. Even someone as seemingly insignificant as Horn could come up with many ways to achieve it.

He said this to Florian, but only received a stranger look in return: mockery, and... jealousy?
"You are still 'immaculate,' aren't you, Mr. Thackeray?"

The sudden change of topic startled Theodore. Then, the phrase 'Immaculate Body' completely overturned his rationality—a term rarely used in the Great Vortex.

It describes a saint.

'Immaculate'—Theodore knew the literal meaning.

“…You’re insane, Florian.” The blond man finally snapped. “What are we even talking about?”

“Speaking of my father, Mr. Thackeray,” Florian rose and went to Theodore’s side, opening the window, “you may have had doubts. We both understand that feelings without true ‘contact’ are like planting a tree in the air—”

"Some people are too cowardly to face the obvious truth: what is the truth, Mr. Thackeray, my uncle, you know it perfectly well..."

“My father is different from you. He doesn’t have your forbidden, distorted emotions, twisted personality, and blasphemous soul.”

“He’s a normal, shrewd, responsible, normal, shrewd, and responsible…” Florianto held the white-feathered sparrow and sent it out the window.

After a few breaths.

They fluttered away into the distance.

"...a liar."

He turned around and faced the man with a gloomy expression.

"It's precisely because you're a pretentious girl beneath that skin that you fell for such a fool, Mr. Thackeray. You're disgusting, and you don't deserve anyone's pity. This is the fate of those with warped souls—you think you're taking care of your lover's son out of consideration for the feelings of the previous generation...you think this is some kind of noble act?"

Florian's expression was sarcastic:

"Who is your lover? Mr. Deformed Child?"

"To soothe your cowardice, you beg a little sweet water, a little love, a little 'forgiveness' from someone who despises you, like a cook tending the stove fire, hoping for dawn after dawn outside the window—emotion... or something else?"

"The current owner of this house is Mr. Horn Thackeray."

Theodore had no idea that Florian had so many 'complaints' about him.

He deliberately avoided Florian's father, avoided the 'feelings' he never wanted to talk about, and headed towards the door with his head down.

“…Horn has no reason to hurt you. As for Lady Fonseca… as long as… as long as I speak with him. Florian, I’ll be back soon. Take little Charles with me, we…”

He spoke in a muffled voice, and it was unclear whether he even believed what he was saying.

But people always have to pay the price for their arrogance—if there is no arrogance, there is only foolishness and stubbornness.

He fled in a disheveled state, fearing that Florian would reveal more about his father's past.

Foolish and utterly undeserving pitiful people...

The room was empty; even the birds that used to keep him company had flown away.

Florian stood by the window and looked down for a long time.

I'm sorry, Uncle.

He watched Theodore's figure disappear at the end of the forest path, and saw the boy in the oversized priest's robe looking up and waving at him.

Feel sorry…

Little Charles.

(End of this chapter)