High School of Demon Hunting
Chapter 1182 - 244 Sepulano’s Arrangement

Chapter 1182: Chapter 244 Sepulano’s Arrangement

"Speak of the devil, and he shall appear."

Just as the two young members of the Karen family from the Blood Race were discussing Mike Gold Cypress Plano in the rest room, Matthew stepped out of the room and instantly spotted the hefty Wizard standing at the end of the corridor.

Considering his own status, Matthew Karen resolved to ignore the portly Wizard.

But Sir Friedman seemed to have a different view:

"If you’re to face an opponent far stronger than yourself, you first need to let them know you respect them. That way, even if you can’t reach an agreement, you have a great chance of getting away unscathed."

"In private, you can quietly consider which type of curse to use on him that won’t leave any trace. Outwardly, you should embrace like old friends."

"So, now, say hello to him, cousin."

...

...

Sepulano was not alone.

Beside him stood a similarly built young Wizard, slightly shorter and without the fancy trim on his robe. It was Andrew Taylor from Quebec. This young Wizard’s ten fingers were adorned with colorful magic rings, and his face bore a defiant expression, showing little respect even when looking at Sir Friedman.

Compared to him, Sepulano was much more cautious.

"Good evening, Mike," Sir Friedman nodded slightly, greeting the passing fat Wizard.

"Evening, Sir," Sepulano tugged at the flesh by his jowls, laboriously returning the greeting.

Sir Friedman stepped aside slightly, and Matthew Karen stepped forward, one hand on his stomach, bowing slightly: "May Merlin bless you, sir."

Sepulano’s face remained expressionless, just giving a slight nod.

Throughout the encounter, Andrew Taylor had been lurking in the shadows of the far corner, as if hoping to render himself invisible. And, including Sepulano, nobody disturbed the young werewolf.

Only when the two members of the Blood Race vanished around the corner at the end of the corridor did the young werewolf quietly step out and join Sepulano.

"He must be plotting something, my lord," Andrew Taylor whispered into Sepulano’s ear, timely: "From a distance, I could smell the rich scent of Machiavelli on those two vampires."

Machiavelli was a famous Black Wizard in Wizard history, known for his mastery of conspiracy and deceit.

The Fat Wizard dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

"People always overestimate Machiavelli," he said, a mocking smile on his lips: "Conspirators are conspirators because they lack the power to scheme openly. If Sir Friedman gave off an air of Louis XIV, then I might indeed be worried."

"Stay in this academy long enough, and you will comprehend that ’action and ambition are what bring success, not lineage.’ Ancient heritages come and go, the lucky ones are many, but those who truly act are few."

"Look at the castle."

"Those who walk with their chins raised, stepping squarely, as if they were drakes, the heirs of great families, they look neither left nor right, not even knowing the difference between belief and honor."

"Then, look at the enthusiastic companions around us."

"What else do you have to worry about?"

Andrew Taylor bowed his head submissively, listening to Sepulano’s teaching, repeatedly agreeing. It was as if what he heard were the profound truths of life. On his wrist, a colorful ouroboros tattoo quietly slithered to the base of his thumb, its head resting on the thumb, seemingly listening to the Fat Wizard’s instruction as well.

After the moment of reflection, Sepulano changed the subject, "Do you know why I called you here today?"

"To follow your instructions, Your Excellency." Andrew Taylor immediately responded with utmost respect. It was as if this phrase had been hiding in his throat for a long time, just waiting to take a stroll.

The Fat Wizard rarely smiled:

"You don’t look like a wolf, rather like a hunting dog wagging its tail."

There was not the slightest hint of offense on Andrew Taylor’s face; instead, he replied with serious earnestness, "Loyalty and protection are the precepts of the Taylor family, and that is one of the reasons why other werewolf tribes see us as heretics."

Sepulano nodded slightly.

"Very well," the Fat Wizard said as he turned the corner with Andrew, entering a plainly decorated lounge. As they walked, he whispered, "Recently, the Wandering Wizard will be selling ’the flesh and blood of those descendants in the Deeps of Starry Sky’ at the Wandering Bar... Naturally, as always, the origins of these items are not exactly legal."

As he spoke, Sepulano pulled off a grey velvet cloth covering a painting on the wall.

"To be precise, those ’goods’ have been diverted from legitimate institutions." A somewhat slick voice came from behind the velvet cloth, "The order constructed by the Mage Alliance runs smoothly because it can cover all places, both under sunlight and shadow."

The Fat Wizard tilted his head slightly towards the painting, "Good night, Mr. Wandering Wizard."

"Good night, the hope of Alpha Academy." The Wandering Wizard replied with a compliment, and then rambled on, "Just like I previously told you, that flesh and blood are excellent catalysts and foundations for Array, many obscure branches of magic use them as primary materials... Even if you have no need for them yourself, the Elders of the Fishman Tribe would definitely be willing to spend a hefty sum of gold to buy them from you."

Hearing this, Andrew Taylor, who had been standing with his hands dangling behind, felt a sudden realization and grasped a bit of the background of this conversation.

The Wandering Wizard had got his hands on a batch of contraband from somewhere and wanted to sell it to Sepulano, or rather, sell it at a high price to the Fishman Tribe by Lake Lin Zhong through Sepulano—it was well known that Sepulano now held the only channel for illegal trade with the Fishman Tribe.

But why had His Excellency called him here?

Sepulano all but at the same time unraveled the puzzle in his heart.

"His name is Andrew, Andrew Taylor, and he will represent me at the secret auction at the Wandering Bar on Monday night." The Fat Wizard introduced the young werewolf behind him to the painting on the wall, while explaining to the Wandering Wizard’s portrait, "The Blood Comrades have an important meeting on Monday night, and I cannot be absent."

"Very interesting." The Wandering Wizard tugged at the brim of his hat, greeting Andrew, "Taylor, Taylor, ah, the Taylor family of Midas Edmonton?"

The young werewolf’s mouth twitched slightly.

Some people always confused his surname with that of the ancient English magical family.

"No, it’s the Taylor family from Quebec, the Family Under the Moon," Andrew Taylor corrected stiffly.

"Oh yes, Quebec Taylor, right, right, the Taylor family are the door watchers." The Wandering Wizard, true to his vast knowledge, immediately confirmed Andrew’s background, and politely invited him, "Then, Monday night at eight-thirty, the Wandering Bar, we await your esteemed presence."

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