Steampunk: Sixth Era Epic-Chapter 691 - Oil Painting and Metal Coffin

The “History of New World Exploration” series of cards were issued about half a century ago and were reprinted every five years, but each reprint featured a different Special Card, hence they were also known as “History of New World Exploration I”, “History of New World Exploration II”, and so forth. The series was created to commemorate the discovery of the New World. The initial fifteen Special Cards were not sold but gifted to the fleet that discovered the New World many years ago.

And the Queen’s Suit that Shard was looking at now would definitely fetch a price well above 80 pounds due to its commemorative significance. Since it is a charity auction, most starting prices are inflated; the current base price is marked at 85 pounds and 12 shillings. However, it was quite evident that even if the final price exceeded three digits, it would still be possible.

“That’s really nice.”

Shard squinted slightly as he looked at the silhouette of ships coming and going in Dagon Harbor on the face of the card. He had always been economical, never having spent over 100 pounds at once on anything not related to Circle Sorcery. But this card looked very tempting…

[So, are you going to buy it? Indulge for once?]

A whisper arose beside his ear, her tone very gentle.

“No.”

It took at least three seconds before Shard firmly shook his head:

“One must control one’s desires. Even though I have a lot of savings recently because of the Difference Engine designs from the spy case, there are still significant expenses in the future, and I can’t just spend money recklessly.”

Although he said this, he continued to look down at the card.

[Is this some kind of asceticism?]

“No, it’s just planning for the future. And look, when have you ever seen me spend money on pleasures? Oh, the money spent on Mia doesn’t count, that’s Miss Gawder’s remittance.”

He glanced again at the card and then turned to walk away. Not to leave the room, but to stay and see what the final hammer price would be.

There were fifteen minutes remaining before the start of the auction near here. A few people had already taken their seats on the foldable chairs, while Shard had strolled over to the easels at the southeastern corner of the room. Under the bright light of the specially erected floor gas lamps, the artworks all looked quite impressive.

These were not antique paintings but donations from locally somewhat famous artists. The base price for each was 10 pounds, and whether they were worth that price, only the buyers themselves would know.

Shard paused in front of the easels, noticing that the paintings depicted heroic epics and mythological themes. The three closest to him were titled “The Hero Slaying the Demon,” “The Maiden Holding Fire,” and “The Phoenix in the Sky.”

All three paintings employed large swaths of red as their background colors—only the first was dark red, the second a mix of red and black, and the third a striking crimson.

“How do they look?”

A voice came from beside him, and Shard turned slightly to see a short, thin man with a red beret and a small mustache.

“They capture the epic nature very well, but I’m somewhat perplexed. That one narrates a legend of a hero defeating a demon, and the other one is related to the local fire-worship tradition. So, what is the meaning of this one in the middle?”

The middle painting was “The Maiden Holding Fire.” It depicted a little girl with grayish-white hair, dressed in a white robe, sitting barefoot beside a bonfire, her head tilted and eyes closed, cradling a slender flame in her burned hands. The background was a very abstract mix of red and black, and Shard could not discern the meaning of the painting.

“This is a tale I heard from a friend who is a professor of folklore, The Fire of the Primordial. It’s the mythical flame said to be the first to have existed after the creation of the world, whose prosperity symbolizes the world’s prosperity. An intriguing story, isn’t it?”

The man in the red hat held his chest with his right hand and touched his chin with his left.

“Sir, are you the artist who created this painting?”

Shard asked, and the other controlled his proud expression as he nodded:

“Yes, so I came here specifically to see who will ultimately appreciate my artistic talent.”

“But according to the locals, the tradition of fire worship here is related to the Phoenix, is this tale of The Primordial Flame also associated with fire worship?”

Shard was fairly certain that the “Fire of the Primordial” mentioned by the other was the same flame in the hands of Sister Delphine.

“No, no, the rumor of the Phoenix is the origin of a local custom, while The Fire of the Primordial is an ancient myth that circulates around the whole world.”

The artist spoke at length:

“I’ve also traveled around the Old Continent for inspiration and have heard many interesting stories. In regions with traditions of fire worship, you can often hear ancient myths about ‘The Fire of the Primordial.’ In Midshire Fort, it’s rather difficult to hear such tales because the custom of worshiping the Phoenix has overshadowed the myth of The Primordial Flame. It could be said that folklore has triumphed over mythology.”

Shard nodded, his eyes fixed on the slender flame in the hand of the little girl in the painting. If “The Fire of the Primordial” was truly the so-called first flame, then this Relic could also be considered a relic from the First Era.

In the end, the “History of New World Exploration: Winds of Exploration,” which Shard had his eye on, was bought by a Carsonrickian merchant for the steep sum of 132 pounds, causing Shard to completely give up hope.

After the auction ended, he thought about going to find a Roder Card game and playing cards with the local card players. But as soon as he left the second floor of the castle for the first floor, he was called away by Miss Aphrola’s maid.

It was still in the parlor they had met in a few hours earlier, with both Witches also present. Upon seeing Shard walk in, they signaled for him to sit down and talk:

“Have the people from the Truth Society appeared here?”

The Old Witch spoke out immediately.

“Hmm? Oh, the Church discovered it, right?”

Shard wasn’t surprised at all.

“Yes, but that’s not important. Let the True God Church handle that sort of matter.”

Miss Aphrola said:

“The reason I called you here is because of another matter. About twenty minutes ago, in auction hall number one, someone paid a high price for an antique.”

Granny Cassandra handed Shard a black and white photograph; it was actually a metal coffin, its surface covered with patterns of branches and vines, and at the very center of the coffin’s lid was a silver cross.

“According to the information provided by the seller, this is an antique that was unearthed in the year 1054 of the Common Era Calendar, from the northern side of the Cameron Mountain Range, now the location of the Duchy of Seth. It has now been put up for auction by that foreign antique dealer, with a starting bid of 1,200 pounds. Then, it was bought by someone who directly increased the bid to 6,000 pounds.”

“6,000?”

Shard was genuinely astonished; he had just been reluctant to buy a Roder Card for a little over 100 pounds:

“Is there a problem with this transaction?”

“I checked all the antiques at the auction in advance, and this is not a Relic.”

The Old Witch said with certainty:

“After that transaction was completed, I smelled a strange scent on the buyer; he doesn’t seem to be human.”

Miss Galina had said that Granny Cassandra was an expert on demons and Exotic Species, so it was normal for her to detect this.

“Galina said that you have a perception of Relics that goes beyond a normal Circle Sorcerer. The coffin has not yet been delivered, and we hope you can take a look.”

Miss Aphrola looked at Shard:

“Although this does not concern the Council, any anomalies in Midshire Fort are worth noting, especially an item like a coffin, which is deeply linked to death.”

“No problem, I’ll go right now. But who is the buyer? To be able to bring out 6,000 pounds in one go, his status must be quite distinguished, right? Moreover, the money must have been prepared in advance.”

Shard asked again.

“He’s not a local; he’s a Viscount from Carsonrick. He’s a distant relative of the Anjou family, the Carsonrick Royalty, very distant. Famous for his family’s vineyard and red wine estate in the south, he is also in Draleon for the red wine business.”

Granny Cassandra said.

Shard nodded, then suddenly looked up:

“Wait? A Carsonrickian? Red wine? Is the wealthy man who bought the coffin named Armand Bernhardt?”

“Yes, Viscount Bernhardt.”

Miss Aphrola nodded in surprise:

“Detective, do you know him?”

“I…”

He was about to say he knew him but then remembered he had attributed the red anomaly in the sky when entering the Interstice to the Vampire Kind and had said he had only seen them from a distance, without knowing the names.

“After that, I might have met him once…”

He then remembered encountering the uncle and nephew at the Sicarl Inn, but that involved the Grey Hawk matter.

So he immediately shook his head:

“I don’t know him; I’ve just come across the gentleman in town while mingling and helping people resolve troubles.”

“It seems you’ve had a very fulfilling autumn here locally.”

Miss Aphrola said with a smile:

“Galina also said you’ve been working hard.”

“Then I’ll go take a look at that coffin. As for Bernhardt, we’ll discuss him later.”

He stood up, hesitated, and then asked:

“What’s the reputation of Viscount Armand Bernhardt in Carsonrick?”

“A very fine gentleman of high society.”

Miss Aphrola said.

“I understand.”

Shard walked out the door, while the conversation between the two witches continued:

“I’ve encountered Mr. Bernhardt in Carsonrick as well. He rented my ship to transport wine to the New World. He’s also a pitiful man, orphaned at a young age. Despite inheriting the title, he doesn’t have many he can trust. I heard he was married once, but his wife died early.”

“Are there no other members in the Bernhardt family?”

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The Old Witch asked curiously; the young witch with curly hair recalled:

“The Bernhardt family has never been prolific. In modern times, aside from two uncles and a niece who is not yet of age, Armand Bernhardt practically has no other relatives of the same surname.”