My esoteric uncle Jules

Chapter 147 News of Master Uriel
As the priest and steward had expected, halfway through their meal, they indeed saw the baron swaying as he walked over from a short distance away.

He glanced at everyone, then silently sat down in his seat and began to eat heartily.

After finishing his first few bites of rice, the Baron finally spoke:
"I'm sorry about what happened before."

Jules said calmly:

"Some things cannot be resolved with just an apology."

The baron paused for a moment, then said:
"I know."

Throughout the rest of the meal, there was no further interaction between the group, and Jules simply enjoyed the long-awaited delicious food.

It has to be said, these nobles really know how to enjoy life.

Although traditional London cuisine was unpalatable, it was still enjoyed by many discerning aristocrats.

Baron Bennett clearly belongs to this category—he seems to have specifically hired a chef who knew French cuisine, giving him a completely new culinary experience.

After the meal, Jules exchanged a few casual words with the priest before looking at the Baron.

“Baron, I would like to speak with you alone.”

The baron seemed to have expected this, and nodded without hesitation.

Before long, the two entered a reception room, where a servant who had been waiting for a long time bowed slightly and left the reception room.

Jules grabbed a chair and sat down, laughing:

"Please take a seat."

He said this quite naturally, as if he were the master of the place.

The baron was clearly aware of this, but he didn't say anything more, just gave a wry smile and sat down as well.

Jules spoke first:
"You should have checked on the child's condition, right?"

"Yes, thank you for your help, Mr. Jules," the Baron sighed.

After a long pause, he continued:
"But it seems the poison wasn't completely eradicated..."

Jules smiled:
"It will probably take several more treatments to completely remove it—during this time, you'd better take good care of him to prevent him from dying from excessive blood loss."

He paused at this point, his expression slightly strange.

He suddenly felt that his words made it sound like he was performing some kind of bloodletting therapy.

Although it is correct in principle.

The baron didn't seem to have thought too much about it, and simply said in a deep voice:

"Please feel free to ask for anything you need, as a token of my apology and gratitude."

He knew that Jules was asking him for "compensation".

Jules stared at the Baron for a moment, then suddenly said:

"Do you know a gentleman from London? His name is Uriel."

“Uriel?” The baron frowned and thought for a while, then shook his head.

"I don't know him. What does he do?"

“He claims to serve a high-ranking nobleman in London and has come here in search of an antiquity.” As he spoke, Jules observed the Baron’s reaction.

He saw the Baron's expression change from blank to thoughtful.

"Although I don't know Uriel, I should have come into contact with that so-called noble who seeks out antiquities."

Upon hearing this, Jules's gaze sharpened immediately.

“Tell me more.” He stroked the teacup to hide the trembling of his hands from excitement.

"That happened a while ago, before London was locked down."

The Baron looked up at the ceiling, lost in memories.

"In short, a group of people approached me, asking me to help them find an ancient bronze mirror."

I've never seen an ancient bronze mirror before. I immediately refused them, but they told me it was the will of some great man.

At that time, they also produced an emblem—an emblem I recognized, one related to royalty.

Seeing that the Baron remained silent, Jules raised an eyebrow:
Is that all you know?

“Of course,” the baron shrugged, looking helpless. “I am but a lowly baron. How can I defy the will of the royal family?”

Of course, in the end, since I couldn't be of any help, they lost interest in me and left.

This truly reflects the idea that "as long as I'm useless, no one can take advantage of me"...

Jules' lips twitched. He calmed himself down and said:

"Thank you for your information; it's very important to me."

Although the Baron was curious why Jules was asking this, he knew it was best not to get involved in such matters.

Although Jules never showed any clear inclination, his keen intuition told him that getting involved in this matter would be deadly.

However, after expressing his gratitude, Jules did not leave. Instead, he simply stroked his teacup and said softly:
"Do you have a way to get back to London?"

Although both the priest and Uriel have ways to return to London, they can't put all their eggs in one basket.

Moreover, with the priest's side facing numerous problems, he no longer felt confident that he could return smoothly, and he also didn't want to have too much contact with Uriel.

“Perhaps,” the Baron said, somewhat uncertainly, “but I’m not sure what the situation is like in London right now.”

Jules was silent for a moment, then nodded slightly.

"It's alright. I'll come back to you if I need anything else."

If he can't get through to either the priest or Uriel, he'll come back and try the baron.

The baron bowed slightly and said solemnly:

"Sir, how long will it take to cure my child?"

"It won't be long, at most a week," Jules said casually.

Upon hearing this, the Baron seemed reassured and visibly relaxed.

"Then I'll leave it to you..."

……

Although he didn't get anything substantial from the Baron, Jules was still in a very good mood.

Uriel's so-called "master" has finally revealed the tip of the iceberg.

He wasn't afraid of how strong the mastermind was, even if it was the royal family—no matter how strong they were, could they be stronger than the Red Cup?
He wasn't even afraid of the Red Cup, so why would he be afraid of a mere nobleman?

When the priest saw Jules return, he was even humming a little tune, and he laughed:
"How was the harvest?"

Upon hearing this, the butler, who was standing nearby, also subconsciously turned his gaze to Jules, looking somewhat nervous.

Although he knew his master would definitely not suffer a loss, what if his master lost his mind?

Jules shrugged and said:

"It's alright. I got some of what I wanted. We'll talk about the rest later."

The priest nodded silently and walked out with Jules.

"You two, walk slowly."

With the servants seeing them off, the two quickly left the Baron's manor.

Not long after leaving the manor, the priest suddenly asked:
What are your plans for the future?

"My plan..." Jules glanced at the priest, "is to return to London."

The priest paused for a moment, then said:
“However, I am now powerless to fight against that evil spirit, and the ritual I prepared beforehand can no longer be activated... I'm afraid it will be difficult to enter the Silent Abode.”

"Moreover, I haven't received a single word about the tax collectors these past few days, so I suspect they might not be coming for the time being..."

His expression was somewhat uneasy, clearly fearing that Jules might change his mind.

Jules, naturally sensing the other's hesitation, chuckled and said:
"Don't worry, I'm still very interested in the Silent Housing. Even if I can't use this to return to London, I can still go inside and take a look."

"But that evil spirit... and how will you get back?"

“It’s alright,” Jules shook his head. “I should be able to find someone else to help.” At least for now, he and Uriel maintained a superficial cooperative relationship.

Upon hearing this, the priest could only sigh:
"That's good……"

……

After leaving the baron's manor, the two exchanged some details about their upcoming plans and then went their separate ways.

They all have their own things to do.

As the sun began to set, Jules returned to the familiar cliff where the lighthouse stood.

He carried a gruesome corpse on his shoulder, and all the passersby who saw him avoided him with fear in their eyes.

But his expression remained calm, even showing a hint of anticipation.

"Hopefully, we can get our hands on the black and white paint here..."

He looked up at the sky, reached out, and knocked on the lighthouse door.

The afterglow of the setting sun spilled onto the cliff edge, staining the stone slabs beneath Jules' feet red and making the ghoul corpse on his shoulder appear even more grotesque.

The sea breeze howled, carrying a salty, fishy smell, and ruffled the hem of his clothes. The waves below crashed against the rocks, making a deafening roar.

After knocking for a while, and even when Jules was getting a little impatient, he finally heard footsteps gradually trotting out from inside to open the door.

"coming!"

Hearing the lighthouse keeper's voice, Jules felt a little more at ease.

Thankfully, we were able to find the person!

When the gate opened, the lighthouse keeper's gaze instinctively fell on the ghoul corpse on Jules' shoulder, and he froze.

"You...you really found it?!" His voice trembled slightly.

He certainly remembered Jules—after all, Jules was the only one with whom he had discussed those topics during those days.

Jules said calmly:

"I brought the ghoul corpse with me. Could you use it to cultivate the moths needed to grind black and white pigments?"

The lighthouse keeper paused for a moment, then gestured for Jules to come in and speak.

Carrying the ghoul's corpse, Jules followed the lighthouse keeper up to the top of the lighthouse.

"Now that we have the corpses, we have enough nutrients to cultivate those moths, but we are still missing a key concept."

"Key concepts?"

Jules raised an eyebrow, recalling the lighthouse keeper's earlier words, and said:
"You mean, the death of a living person?"

"……Yes."

The lighthouse keeper walked along, unable to suppress a wry smile:

"He demanded that the person performing the ceremony have personally killed at least one person within a week, a truly..."

He stopped mid-sentence.

Because he saw Jules's expression visibly excited.

"That's all?!" Jules' face lit up with a smile.

The lighthouse keeper was taken aback, then said nervously:

"You, you can't do anything outrageous! I won't allow you to kill innocent people!"

Jules waved his hand and chuckled:

"Don't worry, no need, I've already killed him."

Upon hearing this, the lighthouse keeper was struck dumb, pointing at Jules and stammering, unable to speak.

"you you……"

"Oh, there seems to be some misunderstanding. I killed the thief who had ill intentions towards me three days ago. I am not an innocent civilian, so you can rest assured."

Jules always had a smile on his face.

Seeing that Jules' words did not seem to be a lie, the lighthouse keeper finally lowered his finger, his brow furrowed, and said:

"Where is the High Priest? Aren't you with him?"

Jules then realized that the lighthouse keeper in front of him, due to his isolation from the world, was still unaware that the priest had an accident.

"He was poisoned and almost completely ruined, but thankfully I managed to keep him alive."

After he finished speaking, he added:
"Of course, if you don't believe me, you can go and see for yourself."

Upon hearing this news, the lighthouse keeper seemed to age several years in an instant.

After a long pause, he said somewhat dejectedly:

"Thank goodness, he's not dead..."

When I looked up again, the wariness in the lighthouse keeper's eyes had largely disappeared.

"If you meet the requirements of the ritual, then perhaps you can try to cultivate black and white moths directly."

"Come with me, I'll show you what that ritual looks like, and how it uses death to catalyze the moth's rebirth..."

Soon, the lighthouse keeper pushed open a wooden door and led Jules into a small room inside the tower.

The room was dimly lit, with only a flickering oil lamp casting dappled light and shadow.

The air was filled with a damp, musty smell, mixed with a faint stench of decay.

There were odds and ends piled up in the corner, and an old wooden box sat on the table. The box was covered with intricate patterns, like some kind of ritual object.

Jules placed the ghoul's corpse on the ground and glanced around the room.

After a quick look around, he confirmed that this must be the place where the lighthouse keeper had previously held the ceremony—a lingering sense of "winter" permeated the air.

In layman's terms, it's the stench of a corpse.

The lighthouse keeper crouched down to examine the body, and after confirming that it was correct, he stood up and walked towards the wooden crate.

"The ritual requires a corpse as nourishment, and the concept of death as a starting point."

He opened the wooden box and took out a few dry grass stems and a small bottle of black powder.

"These are auxiliary materials that can awaken the moth's vitality; they also contain insect eggs."

Jules nodded, his tone calm:

"let's start."

The lighthouse keeper nodded, placed the grass stalks next to the corpse, sprinkled them with black powder, and muttered an obscure incantation under his breath.

The incantation was deep and resonant, like waves crashing on the shore, carrying a strange rhythm.

Jules stood to the side, feeling a chill gradually rising in the air, like a cold wind circulating in the room.

The administrator took out a small knife from his pocket, cut his finger, and dripped a few drops of blood onto the corpse.

Blood droplets fell onto the rotting flesh, seeping in quickly and making a soft sizzling sound.

Jules frowned, keenly noticing that the corpse's fingers twitched slightly, as if responding to the force.

“Don’t panic,” the lighthouse keeper said in a low voice, his gaze focused. “The ceremony has already begun.”

He lit a blade of grass, and wisps of smoke rose up, carrying a pungent herbal smell.

Smoke enveloped the corpse, slowly condensing into a blurry shadow.

Jules squinted and saw countless tiny insect shadows wriggling in the shadows, as if struggling to be reborn in the smoke.

Suddenly, the corpse shuddered violently, and a crack appeared in its rotting chest, from which black liquid gushed out, emitting a strong, pungent stench.

The lighthouse keeper remained calm, stuffing the remaining grass stems into the crack, and the chanting grew more urgent.

A faint fluttering sound came from the crack, like countless moths awakening in the darkness.

“Now, only the last step remains.” The lighthouse keeper looked at Jules.

Then, he bowed deeply and said:
"Please use the 'death' you carry within you to truly transform the moth from its cocoon into a butterfly!"

(End of this chapter)