Before the guards could come up with a better solution, Cesare carefully carried Closia behind his back. "Don't be afraid of Closia... I am here. As if hearing her brother's voice, Closia's expression of pain stretched slightly, but the girl's arm began to seep blood, and blood mixed with black slime soaked the clothes on Cesare's back. Cesare then tentatively walked past the guards, and while no one stopped him from leaving, no one took the initiative to get out of the way. The guards simply stood still, like statues of silence, watching Cesare leave with his sister on his back. The sun was shining, but it was so dazzling, Cesare walked out of the gate of the church hospital and onto the gray street, and the passers-by saw Cesare carrying his sister on his back, some of them avoided him, some of them cast distressed glances, but without exception did not choose to help. Cesare's injuries from the fall from the carriage had not healed, and since the money on his body had been used to heal his sister's wounds, his own injuries had not been treated until no. At this moment, the wound, which was barely self-healing, cracked again, and the boy's blood was running down the leg of his trousers, forming an ascetic's thorny path in the street. The pain didn't stop Cesare, and the pressure of time even quickened his pace, heading for a place he wasn't sure existed. Through the streets and a few alleys, Cesare came to the Old Town, a slum area hidden beneath Karl's glossy façade, which Cesare had visited when he had been at auction not long ago. As then, the whole area is gray, the old buildings are twisted and erected to form a labyrinth of obstacles, which seem to be in danger of collapsing at any moment, black birds hovering in the sky, and the sand and dust seem to freeze time, making it impossible for the poor here to escape the fate of life. Beggars and unemployed workers lay on the side of the road, some of them seeming to smell of decay, their eyes looking at Cesare and the girl on his back like vultures, and speculating on their thoughts only adds to the inner turmoil. Circling around and around, Cesare searched for targets in the rotten houses on both sides of the path, bypassing the homeless men with suspicious purposes in front of him, staying awake from the cries of children and the cursing of squirting, and finally Cesare stood in front of a dilapidated wooden door. A rudimentary cross sign is carved on the door, and the entire house is no longer marked with any information. Cesare adjusted his sister's posture and opened his free hand to gently tap the wooden door, but there was no response from inside. Cesare, unwilling to give up, knocked on the door again, this time with a stronger force and louder than the last time, at first there was no response, but then the sound of some glass bottles colliding with each other came from inside the door, which instantly made Cesare see hope, so he knocked harder. The door was slowly opened from the inside, and there was no light source in the dark room, and an iron chain was faintly visible tied to the door lock to prevent anyone from forcibly entering. The smell of inferior alcohol rushed out of it, almost so smoke that Cesare couldn't help but retreat, and only when he got used to it did he look carefully inside the crack in the door. An old face was looking up and down at the sudden visitor...... The old castle was filled with visitors, who gathered in the hall to discuss something for a sudden situation, and the sound of quarrels and stamping of feet was incessant. The young boy stood outside the door of the hall, beside a guard wearing a black veil guarding the doorway, and the guard did not choose to drive away or even act as if he did not see the little boy's approach. The little boy wanted to peek through the crack in the door to see what was happening in the hall, but when he looked up at the guard, and saw that the other party had no intention of organizing, he carefully pushed the door open a gap and put his eyes on it. There were no seats for everyone in the hall, some were sitting, some were standing, some were leaning against the wall, and the people were dressed in different ways, from the luxurious fabrics of the nobility to the coarse rags of the common people, and the completely different levels of status did not affect the distance and posture between them. Even more exaggerated, there was an old man with pale hair and beard slumped on the ground, taking out his own wine bottle and getting drunk alone, and everyone present was participating in it in the most comfortable way possible, and it was more like a strange private party than a solemn meeting. The Count stood in the middle of the hall pacing back and forth, and on one side of the hall could be seen the figures of Arnos and Garbel, exchanging things with the people around them, with serious expressions and sometimes loud arguments. The whole hall was utterly chaotic in the boy's eyes, and everyone was talking to themselves, and it was not clear what they were arguing about, when the Earl, who was in the middle, suddenly stood on his heels, and he tried to straighten up his hunched figure and struck the ground with his cane to attract everyone's attention. "That's enough, all be quiet." The Count looked around at the crowd, and seemed to pay attention to it as he looked at the doorway. "Mr. Ander, you said you didn't agree to treat the girl... Tell me why. "With all due respect, I think it would be superfluous to explain in this matter, but if anyone doesn't even want to understand something as simple as that, I don't mind repeating my point of view." A tall, well-dressed gentleman stepped forward, bowing to the crowd before speaking firmly. "First of all, this herb is not a curative herb, we need more experiments and research to understand it, and now this plant is not only scarce but also difficult to keep fresh and stored, and even our laboratory lacks fresh samples of this plant, it is obvious that this waste is extremely unwise!" The tall gentleman had just finished speaking, when a dark-skinned man dressed as a peasant at the other end of the hall stood up again, pointing at the tall gentleman's nose and shouting accusations. "Do you think it's a waste to save a child's life! Is human life more important or is your broken grass more important!? If it were your child, would you be able to say such things too! "You're obscuring the essence of the problem, shifting the focus." The gentleman furrowed his eyebrows in displeasure. "Besides, at the beginning of this meeting, I have already stated very seriously that the ability of this herb to cure the infection is only theoretically feasible, in fact, from experiments and real examples, the toxins of this plant itself have a certain chance of accelerating the spread of infection, and even distort the infection, producing unpredictable results, is this ethical?" However, the dark-skinned man did not seem to give up, and he still retorted. "If we don't do anything, the girl will die too, and since we have a cure for her, why not give it a try? Even if it sounds ugly, once this success is achieved, maybe it will be a milestone for our crow flock for so many years, and it is not possible to treat it as an experiment to cure a child? The man's words sparked a discussion again, and the entire hall was slowly covered with the sound of people arguing. The little boy behind the door realized that the girl they were talking about was probably the silver-haired girl that Yanos had brought before, and that their discussion would decide whether the girl would live or die...... The hall did not regain calm until the Count struck the ground again. "It sounds ugly to treat that girl as an experiment, but Mr. Indel, do you think it's possible?" The Count looked at the tall gentleman. Andel rubbed his jaw and hesitated for a moment, then spread his hands. "Personally, I still don't recommend depleting the reserves of Forgetfulness for this kind of thing, but if you insist on doing so, then there is only one problem left." Ander's eyes swept left and right, then shrugged helplessly. "The girl's surname is not Hunyadi. Najib is a good man, we all know it, but he and his family are not part of the crows, and we have never experimented on the lives of outsiders since ancient times, and even if we really cure that little girl, what about keeping it secret? Do you want to keep her in a dungeon for the rest of your life to ensure that she doesn't leave the county? I don't mind. "And what if you take her into the family?" A voice in the crowd spoke, and the little boy followed the voice and saw Janos's serious expression. "Then you need a reasonable reason, and joining the crows is not a joke. Everyone here should know very well that we are in this line of work...... To put it bluntly, it's better to die. There was silence in the hall for a long time, and then they discussed it for a while, but they did not get an accurate answer. People obviously don't have an endless amount of time to spend here, and it wasn't long before someone offered to leave. Seeing that the meeting was about to end, the little boy hurriedly left the door and hid in the nearest corner. Strange people walked out of the hall one after another, some with solemn expressions and some with nonchalant expressions. The boy watched everyone walk past him, including the gentleman named Andre, the dark-skinned peasant, Arnos and Garber, and when at last the crowd had dispersed and the sick Count was walking towards him with his cane, the little boy suddenly jumped out and stood in front of the Count. "It's you, why are you in this place?" The earl was very puzzled, but his expression was a little surprised, but he quickly showed a kind smile. "I guess... Is it that all the books are finished, or is there a place on the top of the bookshelf that is out of reach? The boy looked up at the Count and said something, then lowered his head with some hesitation. "It's okay, just say what you want, as long as you mention it, I will try my best to do it." "I think—" The boy looked up again, and finally spoke under the Count's encouraging gaze. "I want to save her......" "Oh?" The Count's eyes narrowed into slits, shining eerily in the afterglow of the setting sun. "You want to save that girl's life? So much better. The candles on the brass candlesticks on the side were extinguished in a cold wind, and at the end of the corridor there was a faint musty smell of Ali, and the mural of crows hanging on the wall seemed to stare at the two men, and at this time, a flock of crows chirped outside the castle.

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