Medieval Reiki Revival

Chapter 60
The dinner went very smoothly. Molière's profound knowledge and natural sense of humor made the local aristocrats of the city think that he was a veritable master of comedy.

At the dinner table, Miss Godiva apologized to the playwright. She thought only her father was in the study, so she broke in without knocking.

"It's okay."

Molière smiled: "It's only interesting when there are accidents."

Miss Godiva's hibiscus-like face made people feel relaxed and happy. When she smiled at the guests across the dining table, many gentlemen were willing to stop for a while to enjoy the rare beauty.

The maid stood behind them, curling her lips in disdain.

Molière put down his fork: "Have you read my comedies?"

"Yes."

Miss Godiva smiled in surprise: "I have watched "The Ridiculous Wit", but the heroine in it is just an actress in a small theater in Norwich, and her acting skills are not outstanding."

"And I really like the lines of the male lead in it. Those two pretending jazz are talking nonsense. Such people are hilarious in that drama. The plot is really interesting. Whenever I participate in the salon, I always look for a hostess like Madelon."

Molière had a very happy chat with the lady. He first said that Godiva had the talent to become a female playwright, and asked the other party that if she had a work in the future, he must let himself read it first.

"How to write a good screenplay, Monsieur Molière, tell us, please?"

"Script is the philosophy of life, everything we see can be a script, but when creating, we must use our brains more, and use the author's own life joy to polish the original ordinary story into a more interesting story. "

"What do you think of Corneille's works?"

"He is an excellent writer who knows how to bury the mystery in the relationship between characters. But to be honest, his biggest shortcoming is that he doesn't know how to show the details, and the observation of life is not enough, so the works always seem empty. "

A guest asked curiously: "How to show the details in the work, do you want to tell the audience all the descriptions in the text?"

Molière pointed to the eyes and ears, and picked out a bean sprout from the salad on the table, showing the white stem at the end: "It's like this is the same as the bean sprouts, the first time I look at it and all the bean sprouts on the plate They are exactly the same, but if you observe carefully, you can find something different."

"For example, when I saw you, I knew you must have lost your temper this morning."

The guest who was named showed a look of surprise, which is a rare thing for an old gentleman with long hair and a bushy beard.

He immediately coughed a few times: "How did you find out, did you hear the rumor from a servant?"

"it's not true."

Molière quickly expressed that he did not intend to offend, and he continued: "I noticed that you are a very serious person, and you are seated so close to Mr. Airt, there must be similarities in your personality."

"Your collars and sleeves are very neat, and your shoes are spotless from the moment they appeared, even if you stepped on the floor, there is no trace of marks, which means that you have dealt with the sludge on the bottom of your feet before you get out of the car. Take care of it For that, you should be very careful."

"But there is a protruding thread behind the shoulder that I can't see--ordinary people may not notice it at all, but it is intolerable to a man who pays great attention to appearance. Your servant should remind you that if you don't If you did, something must have happened, and all I can imagine is that you made such a fuss that no one dared to correct you."

The guest marveled at his powers of observation and couldn't help but marvel at the playwright's strength.

The bystanders couldn't help applauding when they heard this, and for a while, both the host and the guest were happy.

As the host, Mr. Alt did not participate in the discussion. He had an extremely out-of-group expression on his face, his eyes were deeply sunken, and his eyes drifted towards an oil painting outside the corridor, and the oil painting on it was Al The deceased wife.

The next day, Mr. Elter and Molière drove to the Salzburg Mountain.

During the drive, Molière inquired through the window that the outside weather was good, so he happily talked about how beautiful the spring in Bam City was, and nobles on horseback would pass by the stage.

A series of solemn parades became the chassis for people to vent their joy. Comedians rode on horses and dressed up beautifully. They always walked at the end of the procession.

Of course, there is another benefit to such fine weather.

It is not easy to eliminate the clues.

The old nun warmly entertained the two of them. During the discussion, they learned that since the wedding tragedy, not many nobles were willing to come here.

In the past, many wives were happy to come here for outings and prayers, but now there is no news.

Freshly plastered white walls concealed traces of blood.

The central fountain in the vestibule had to be dismantled because carrion blocked the water outlet.

Alt glanced at the stone pillar on the edge of the fence with hatred. The deaths caused there were not as small as the guillotine where a family has been executed for a hundred years.

Molière was full of curiosity about the scene here. He had already learned from the old nun that the vestibule had been cleaned and dealt with a lot, but there were still a lot of traces left due to the lack of money in the monastery.

In those mossy corners there may still be pieces of satin poured with the blood of victims.

He took out a notebook and a graphite block from his pocket.

With this treated graphite block, you can quickly record anytime, anywhere.

"Although the wedding area is small, the layout is very delicate."

"The petals should have rotted in the soil, but now I can still see what's left."

"According to the time calculation, the Marquis Condorcet's wedding must have used a lot of foreign petals, and maybe ice cubes were used to cool them down."

Molière continued to investigate. He was like a playful and curious tourist from other places, with strong curiosity and patience for all the details of buildings or weddings.

He quickly judged the width and length of the red carpet and made a prediction about the number of guests at that time.

Mr. Alter felt that it was difficult to breathe, and he couldn't help leaning against the wall.

He mourned endlessly in his heart, and the water in his tear ducts had drained away when he was alone.

The blue sky seems to be a heavy roof on top of the man's head, and the larks frolicking on the birch trees remind him of his wife's surviving scene.

God!

If you really love Liya, why take her away.

Even if a weak woman is in heaven, she must not be completely happy.

The happiness that exists in the world can only be enjoyed through reunion.

I am willing to use my everything in exchange for meeting again.

Just when Mr. Airt felt sad, Molière suddenly shouted: "Come and see, I found a strange place."

The other party turned his back to him, and he was concentrating on the ground.

Alt had a chance to wipe away his tears, hid his sadness deep in his heart, and walked in the direction where Moriah was.

When he got past Molière's back and saw that what the other party was pointing at was nothing more than a pothole, he couldn't help frowning.

Erte, who was in a bad mood, taunted all of them: "Did you find the baby in this pile of mud?"

Molière was very happy: "There is no treasure in it, but there is something more important than treasure. Listen, at the beginning I heard the story of the ghoul, and I realized that besides ghouls and wizards, there are other things." A very important person is the flame knight you mentioned."

"According to your guess, he is the one who fights against wizards, but in fact, there is only such a possibility. But another thing is certain, this flame knight must know more than I do."

"So instead of looking for the wizard who has never appeared, it is better to look for the trace of this flame knight, at least he has actually appeared."

Alt finally followed his train of thought, touched his chin subconsciously, and actively made associations.

"The shape of this pothole is just an ordinary circle, and it is somewhat similar to the shape of a crescent tooth. If I have to say it, it is a bit like a horse's footprint."

Molière encouraged: "It's very good, and it's not bad at all."

"It's the horseshoe print."

"But it seems to be different from a tell?"

"No, maybe you haven't carefully observed the shape of the horse's hooves. They are actually no different from the seals used in ancient times, and this horse's foot is not an ordinary wild horse. It is a medium horse with noble horseshoes— - There is a thin iron plate with small holes between the shoe and the sole, and it is fixed with pyramid-shaped nails."

Molière's eyes sparkled with excitement: "Ordinary people don't wear noble horseshoes. Although it can effectively prevent stones from wearing down hooves, the price is much more expensive after all."

Alt suddenly realized the problem: "You mean that the flame knight is a nobleman, or at least a rich businessman with a rich family."

His eyes were dazed, thoughtful, but he quickly refuted himself: "Impossible, the flame knight is just a knight, and the reason why he uses the noble horseshoe may be because he needs the mount to serve him better—just like losing Victory only because of the story of a horseshoe nail."

Molière nodded, kept extracting the shape of the soil with his hand, and it is possible that he just replied briefly.

But he quickly brought up another idea: "Then how do you explain the next thing? You see, to go to Salzburg Mountain, you must pass through the southwest area of ​​Luzpitburg. This area happens to be where the ghouls revived." place."

"The investigation by the personnel sent by the city government is enough to show that these corpses should have crawled out of the old cemetery. This means that if the Flame Knight could have arrived at the monastery in time, he must have been able to go to the center street at the same time - the center street There are far more ghouls in the monastery than in the monastery, and far more damage."

"In fact, he gave up Center Street and went straight to the Abbey."

"If Flame Knight was a righteous knight, he would not go up the hill alone regardless of the innocent residents in Central Street; but if he was a selfish person, he would never show up again after saving the mayor and many councilors."

"Aside from all other factors, the most direct and crucial answer is."

"The Flame Knight should be a person who lived in Fort Luz Pitt, and he even had a lot of connections with the nobles who attended the wedding at that time. And I have an amazing guess, that is, the Flame Knight may be a member of the local nobles .”

Mr. Airt looked at Molière talking calmly and nonchalantly. At this moment, he was like an apprentice kneeling at the door of a saint, letting go of all guards in his heart and obeying his advice piously.

It was difficult for Alt to express how he was feeling.

However, after listening to the other party's analysis, the sense of confusion after losing his wife is much less.

He regained his energy and followed Molière to observe this fist-sized pit from a new perspective, as if he wanted to come out from the edge of the pit to observe something new.

Airt murmured: "This time I really showed my feet."

(End of this chapter)