The Shepherds Are Dense-Chapter 43: The White Fox Arrives, and the Nation Prospers

Chapter 43: The White Fox Arrives, and the Nation Prospers
Although they deduced that the enemy was likely the Hook Demon, inherited by Jack the Ripper, Aiwass, the other two, and the child didn’t let down their guard.
Just in case, they continued hiding in the abandoned chemical factory, secretly watching the only entrance.
Aiwass couldn’t reveal his powers beyond the Path, so he couldn’t draw anti-demon magic circles or explain the Hook Demon’s habits and weaknesses.
Since there was nothing else to do, he simply sat down with Lulu upstairs and chatted.
They talked about music, poetry, and philosophy.
About that imaginary “I have a friend.”
He told her about secrets from across the continent and vulgar urban legends that never made it into the halls of academia.
Time passed quickly.
They even had time to hum a lullaby again for little Aiwass, just to make sure he wouldn’t panic if he woke up.
It was then that they realized neither they nor the child had eaten breakfast.
It was just past ten, and hunger was already setting in.
Luckily, little Aiwass was already four years old and long weaned.
If he were still an infant and started crying from hunger, Aiwass would have had to excuse himself politely.
A four-year-old skipping two meals wasn’t really a big deal.
That was Aiwass’s own judgment.
He said it was fine.
After all, in the original history, little Aiwass would be sent to an orphanage in a few days.
At that point, hunger would become part of daily life.
But in this artificial timeline, Julio and Annie clearly didn’t have to die.
Little Aiwass would likely grow up with his birth parents.
Of course, that kind of future only existed in their idle conversation.
This dream world felt very real, with all kinds of sensations and even hunger.
But it was undoubtedly fabricated.
Its details were filled with inconsistencies that constantly reminded the ritual participants that this was nothing but a temporary fictional world.
As if by doing so, people would see the events of this ritual as illusions too.
Lulu, being inexperienced, took the world more seriously.
She eagerly discussed its future with Aiwass and tried to guess why they were facing such circumstances.
She was still speculating that Aiwass Moriarty’s real parents were killed by the Hook Demon...
But she couldn’t figure out how little Aiwass had survived.
Then she started enthusiastically listing possible attack scenarios with him.
Sherlock had mentioned once, “The events of this world might not match reality,” but Lulu clearly hadn’t taken it to heart.
He didn’t say it again.
He didn’t care to listen either.
So he turned around to explore the chemical factory, satisfying his curiosity and thirst for knowledge.
It did yield a little something.
In the abandoned lab, Sherlock found two bottles of purified water and a bottle of concentrated sulfuric acid.
They could be used for spellcasting.
After that, Sherlock started flipping through the factory’s leftover documents.
He read through the scattered files with intense focus.
Like a detective invited to investigate an abandoned chemical plant, earnestly piecing together the incident.
As a follower of the Path of Wisdom, he definitely had a reading addiction.
Compared to chatting, reading was a more satisfying pastime.
"I think I get why this factory was abandoned..."
Sherlock returned, looking quite pleased and smiling with satisfaction.
He was just about to share his deductions with Aiwass when he saw the two of them still sitting there chatting.
They had started with art, gone full circle, and returned to art.
The newsboy, covered in dust, raised an eyebrow and twisted the sulfuric acid bottle in his hand.
"You’re still not done talking?"
"Conversation is a communion of the soul."
Aiwass turned back with a cheerful smile.
"How could anyone ever finish talking?
"Family, life, dreams, what we read, what we do, what we think... two hearts unlike each other, two souls yet to overlap, like two finely cut gems.
"When aligned and rotated in sunlight, they cast thousands of rays on the wall—those are the sparks of differing thoughts.
"I call that conversation.
"And if, by chance, one angle produces a dazzling brilliance that moves the heart and is remembered for a lifetime—then that is the focus of the soul.
"I call that love."
"I used to think you might be from the harbor district, involved with the gangs."
Sherlock replied coldly.
"But now I’m sure—you’re a rich playboy.
"Smooth-talking, silver-tongued, always ready with a charming phrase.
"Did you read all those books just to impress girls?"
He had been eavesdropping while reading the ledgers.
In this deathly quiet factory, it was impossible not to hear Aiwass’s voice.
This was clearly a well-read, well-mannered man.
Maybe not as young as he looked, perhaps using a potion like ‘basil’ to maintain youth...
Or maybe he really was a well-bred middle-aged man, just like the pastor Julio he played.
But Aiwass’s glibness confirmed to Sherlock that he was young.
There was a hint of arrogance, childishness, and flamboyance in that eloquence.
Of course, he had earned the right to be proud.
To have such mature thoughts and deep knowledge at his age meant he far surpassed his brainless peers.
The “Fox” was indeed impressive.
But not quite at the level of Aiwass Moriarty.
Sherlock had only met the real Aiwass once.
That young man, now confined to a wheelchair with permanent injuries even healing spells couldn’t fix, was truly intelligent, polite, and humble.
Sherlock held him in high regard.
Had he not been so busy advancing, he might have spent more time with him.
"Is wisdom not wisdom if spoken aloud?
"Is truth no longer truth when shared with others?"
Aiwass retorted.
"I read so I can speak to others—doesn’t that count as a form of giving?
"There are always people who can’t read.
"But that doesn’t make them abandoned by the sages.
"They are like the blind without eyes, the lame without legs, the deaf without ears.
"They lack the organs needed for reading.
"But they are still mature souls, deserving of light and truth."
The black-haired, blue-eyed young cleric narrowed his eyes.
His mature and handsome face broke into a sly fox-like smile.
Sherlock raised an eyebrow and stayed silent.
It still sounded like sophistry… but it didn’t sound bad.
Then Sherlock realized—Aiwass was just switching to statements he knew would please him.
"No wonder they call you the ‘Fox.’"
Sherlock gave a half-hearted jab.
"I’ve heard that in the distant Eastern Empire, there’s a saying about ‘fox charm.’
"Silver-tongued foxes seducing rulers."
"Then you probably don’t know enough."
Aiwass immediately countered with equal eloquence.
"In the same empire, from the Path of Wisdom, the fox is said to ‘reach heaven at a thousand years.’
"In the stargazing arts of the Path of Adaptation, it represents the ‘Ninth Tail Star,’ symbolizing many children and good fortune.
"In the Path of Authority, there’s a saying: ‘When the white fox arrives, the nation prospers; when it doesn’t, the rulers grow arrogant.’
"From the Path of Love: ‘If the ruler resists beauty and governs diligently, the fox will appear.’
"Doesn’t my presence mean that Avalon is at its height of prosperity?"
...Do you even believe what you’re saying?
Sherlock was left speechless by Aiwass’s words.
Especially now that he knew Lulu was actually Princess Isabel.
He didn’t dare speak recklessly.
Lulu clearly liked the Fox more than him…
If she went back and said something, he could get in trouble for nothing.
As expected, the “Fox” had figured out who Lulu was.
That’s why he deliberately said that.
And that’s why he got close to Lulu on purpose…
Sherlock had originally approached to stop the naive princess from being charmed by the Fox.
But the Fox’s erudition exceeded his imagination.
He’d even read ancient texts from across the sea.
Maybe the stories he told earlier weren’t all made up…
Thinking that, Sherlock found himself admiring the Fox a little.
That was how the Path of Wisdom worked.
They pursued mystery and truth—not to pass it on or teach others.
Learning alone brought them joy.
Seeking truth was enough meaning for a lifetime.
From that angle, if the Fox was truly walking the Path of Wisdom, he might even be considered Sherlock’s senior.
Sherlock raised an eyebrow, but his tone softened.
"I’m starting to wonder—are you the third Dual-Path practitioner?
"Your knowledge and intellect already surpass most fools who claim to follow the Path of Wisdom.
"If you’re not, would you be interested in becoming a mage?
"If you’re willing, come find me.
"You know where I am.
"I can help you walk the Path of Wisdom."
"Ah, no thanks."
Aiwass shook his head.
"I read very pragmatically.
"If you expect me to read just for the sake of reading, I don’t think I’d have the patience."
"Now that’s rare.
"A follower of the Path of Devotion calling himself pragmatic."
"There’s no contradiction.
"My goal is to save all living beings."
He smiled.
"You might not believe it now.
"But one day, I will save Avalon…
"And even this world, from catastrophe."
"...No, I believe you."
Sherlock paused, then answered quietly.
Because when the Fox said those words, that usual sly smile of his faded slightly.
He looked more serious.
In that moment, Sherlock felt the Fox was telling the truth.
Perhaps the sly Fox lied with every word…
But maybe this one sentence was the only truth.
Seeing the sudden silence between Aiwass and Sherlock, Lulu began to panic.
She had gotten tired of holding little Aiwass, so she’d laid his head on her lap, letting him sleep on the chair.
Lulu didn’t really understand what the two were talking about.
Aiwass had spoken a bunch of foreign words she couldn’t follow.
But she instinctively felt like they might be arguing.
And it could be because of her.
Worried that she had done something wrong, her expression grew tense.
And whenever she got nervous, she stood up to speak.
That’s what she’d learned from Isabel’s etiquette lessons—that it was the polite thing to do when protected by others.
But as she pushed up to stand, she nearly dropped the sleeping child.
Luckily, Sherlock reacted quickly and caught the boy’s head before it hit the ground.
After a brief panic, they somehow managed not to wake little Aiwass.
"...You need to take better care of the kid."
Aiwass sighed.
"Want me to do it?"
Sherlock sighed and said nothing.
Meanwhile, Lulu had forgotten why she had stood up in the first place.
She awkwardly brushed a lock of hair behind her ear.
"I was just trying to remember what I wanted to say…"
But at that moment, her expression changed.
"…Ugh!"
A searing pain twisted through Lulu’s abdomen.
It was like her period cramps magnified three or four times.
Her face turned pale, legs buckled, and her whole body trembled.
She staggered forward a few steps.
Just as Aiwass caught her, Lulu vomited a mouthful of dark blood onto the ground, then began coughing violently.
The dark red blood was mixed with black jelly-like clots.
(End of Chapter)