Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

Chapter 1025: Chapter 63 Vortex (Part 5)

[The White Eagle’s Reception·Late Night]

[South City District·Rose Hotel]

Elder Aide’s nose was perched with a pair of glasses, as he held the Uzi steel dagger gifted to Winters by Schmid, closely examining the knife’s unique patterning, he couldn’t help but click his tongue in admiration.

The door was silently pushed open, with Winters tiptoeing back to the parlor holding a clay pot and cups.

“When Rhodes Island hadn’t fallen, the knight orders seized a fair number of Saracens’ Uzi steel scimitars every year,” Aide put the dagger back into the wooden box, his eyes gleamed with memories: “But such a beautiful and exquisite pattern… this is my first time seeing one.”

Caman shifted uneasily in his seat: “Knight orders?”

“The Order of Divine Grace.” Carlo Aide’s tone turned colder, clearly not wanting to elaborate.

Anna had gone directly back to the hotel from the Este estate and was already asleep. In the small parlor now, only Winters, Father Caman, and Elder Carlo Aide remained.

“If you like it, it’s yours; it would only be used to cut paper if it stayed with me,” Winters said in a lowered voice.

He first set up a cup for Elder Aide, filled it with hot milk, poured a little for Caman, and for himself… he went straight for the clay pot.

Drinking hot milk was a habit Winters had brought back from the wilderness. Without Xial present, he had to serve the wine and pour the milk himself.

Winters didn’t have servants, and even Anna’s current maid was sent by Mr. Ed because he disliked treating his subordinates as slaves. But he wasn’t so affected as to insist on being self-sufficient in every aspect of life, like clothing, food, housing, and transport. He had Service Soldiers; he could be lazy too. It’s just that when it was time to do daily chores, he didn’t find it embarrassing.

Carlo Aide witnessed everything and shook his head with a smile: “I’m a businessman; bloodshed is bad for business, [Gold will steer clear of blood].”

Winters sat back in the armchair, holding the warm pot of milk, and pondered: “Perhaps [Blood could make Gold walk] is more accurate.”

“So…” Aide removed his glasses, reverting to his usual no-nonsense demeanor, continuing the earlier conversation, he asked: “Did the Schmids agree to your offer?”