Chapter 68 - Druid? (2/2)
The iron-headed Rebecca had a bump when she crashed headfirst into Gawain, let alone the non-iron-headed Amber. The half-elf was disoriented from the collision. After leaving the shadow state, she held her head and made two circles on the spot before stopping after feeling her ears back in Gawain’s grip. She immediately shouted, “Hey, hey, hey! It hurts, it hurts! Let go, let go, let go…”
“What’s with the ‘antique from seven hundred years ago’?!” Gawain glared at this ultimate disgrace. “Where is the druid that I tasked you to find?!”
“He is the druid! How would I know about any antique appraisal?!” Amber felt extremely wronged. She desperately tried to break out of Gawain’s grip while shouting noisily, “I did casually mention that I’d dug out an ancient from seven hundred years ago, but I didn’t think he had actually misunderstood!”
The old man was dumbstruck as he watched the farce before him. At this point, he vaguely came to his senses, “Wait a minute, the antique from seven hundred years ago was Duke Gawain Cecil?”
“Stop mentioning ‘antique’! He’s about to kill with this grip!” Amber screamed. “Haven’t I told you! Gawain Cecil resurrected! He was personally awakened by me! But I did not ask for you to appraise him. I thought you understood me!”
The little old man stared. “I thought you had also robbed his tomb after awakening this ancient hero! I even wondered how you managed to bluff him into allowing someone to appraise the antiques after you’d robbed his tomb…”
Gawain: “…”
After going through every great name in history that he knew in his last life, Gawain finally suppressed the urge to throw Amber out. He looked at the little old man before him, at a loss of whether to laugh or to cry. “So… you’re not a druid then?”
Unexpectedly, the little old man stroked his beard after hearing this question and straightened his tattered gray robes before speaking in an inexplicable tone, “This would depend on the specific situation and your needs. If your terms here are suitable, I can also be a druid…”
Gawain was taken aback. “There is a ‘can be’ for druids?”
“Then are you a druid or not?” Gawain frowned. “I need a druid to support the construction of the territory’s agriculture, and I do not wish for any problems to surface in this project, so your answer had best be prudent.”
After the farce, he now had serious misgivings towards this little old man with the aura of a hermit.
Yet he saw the little old man crack a smile; then he took out an ordinary-looking seed. He casually threw the seed onto the ground, then picked up a glass from the table at the side, and poured some water on it. Following that, he muttered some incantations, and moments later, a speck of green began to glow from where the seed had been dropped.
The seed sprouted at a speed visible to the naked eye. Although it was a really tiny sprout, it was a great eye-opener for Gawain.
“Look, look! He is a druid!” Amber made a fuss at once. “Quickly release me! It hurts like hell!”
Gawain let go of the half-elf’s ears with a dumbfounded look and then stared oddly at the little old man. “So you really are a druid… but what’s with being an antique appraiser too?”
“I was a druid in my earlier years in the true Forest Heart faction.” The little old man stuck his chest out slightly and proudly spoke, “But an antique appraiser is also my occupation. You could say that there are barely any antique appraisers better than me in the entire southern borders.”
Gawain was puzzled. “A druid who studies flowers, birds, fishes, and insects and an appraiser who studies antique. How did you put these two unrelated professions together?”
“Mainly because I had no money.” The little old man shrugged, “I was too poor being a druid, so I started an avocation. And let me tell you, that’s not all I can do. If you’re short of a chef here, I also have some grilling and soup-making skills…”
It wasn’t just the corner of his mouth that trembled; even Gawain’s forehead throbbed for a moment. “As long as the price is right, you can even do fortune-telling. Am I right?”
The little old man held his beard. “That depends on how much you’re paying. If the price is suitable, I can learn it right away.”
Gawain looked up to the sky and sighed. He thought, this was indeed a person brought back by Amber; such a development was truly logical and expected. He had not underestimated Amber’s morals; neither had he overestimated her virtue. This ‘agriculture expert’ perfectly fulfilled Amber’s standards.
An utterly unreliable fellow, yet he really was a druid.
“Um… are you okay?” Amber watched Gawain’s reaction cautiously and only dared to speak up after some time. “At least he’s a real druid.”
“Well, it’s better than having none.” Gawain sighed and then lowered his head to look at the little old man. “Then from today onwards, you are the druid of the Cecil territory. I will give you a suitable remuneration… your grade?”
“Grade three druid from the Forest Heart faction. At the same time, also a grade three magic spell herbalist,” the little old man said smilingly. “And also a pretty good griller. Are you really not going to consider?”
Gawain quirked up the corners of his mouth. “No, I have a maidservant who cooks quite well. I will pay you according to the standards of hiring an official grade three spellcaster, but the premise is you have to refine a batch of drugs that boosts growth to prove yourself. We will provide the materials and tools.”
The little old man nodded heavily in satisfaction. “Of course, of course.”