Chapter Fifty-Six: Sleep, sleep, my precious little darling... hmm hmm hmm

“Let me show you around—some of my little secrets!” Harold said, rubbing his hands nervously. He took Louis by the hand, and together they soared upward.

At this moment, Harold seemed to regard Louis as a teacher. Up on the celestial ceiling, countless clouds took on myriad shapes; these clouds were busily crafting gifts. Dream-thieving birds fluttered among them, snatching up the presents and delivering them to the Muggle children lost in slumber.

“I often perform around the globe in the Muggle world, teaching those children who long to become magicians—children blessed with talent, ability, and desire. Yet the Ministry forbids them to learn magic... They don’t even know magic or wizards exist in this world.”

Harold, it turned out, had once been a Muggle, but a true genius, far more remarkable than any pureblood wizard. Yet no one would teach a Muggle magic; he had no way to reach the world of magic or wizards.

Until the day Harold met a magician.

No one could have imagined that Harold’s first mentor was a Muggle wild wizard, the very sort most despised and rejected by wizards—a street magician, performing sleight of hand for passersby.

But this wild wizard was a genuine scholar: a “bookworm” rooted in academic research, laughed at by every wizard because he possessed no magical power.

Yet it was this bookworm who gave the world a terrifying grand magician.

The scholar’s many magical theories were once mere speculation, but each was gradually proven by his disciple. And so, the scholar’s dream of wizardry was realized in his pupil.

Louis, hearing this tale, sighed in admiration.

If Anthony was the “Laozi” who opened the Way—the true gates to the magical world—then this scholar surely deserved the title “Aristotle.”

Before him, knowledge was but a matter of experiential theories and “I suppose” conjectures. This scholar, though, established true logical thought.

Such scholarship should have kindled the first torch of truth and illuminated the darkness. Yet, amid the anti-intellectual arrogance and prejudice of the pureblood wizards, the scholar faded into obscurity, and his sole disciple became a fugitive, forced to secretly spread those theories.

Had things developed differently, perhaps one day this world would have founded a forbidden sanctuary dedicated to nurturing magical gods. But now, it was too late.

Still, if a forbidden grand scholar were to emerge now and teach diligently, perhaps after another few millennia, such a magical sanctuary might arise in this world.

As for the scholar, history would surely remember him as “God of Magic.”

[Or perhaps as “Child of the God of War”—for, in Osyclis’s fantasy, the noble foreign prince Louis VI was destined to be the son of the war god.]

“Stop fooling around,” Louis murmured, half-awake. Suddenly, he realized his surroundings were turning into his own bedroom.

“Sister, sister, the potion wasn’t strong enough! He’s waking up!”

Warm lips pressed hurriedly against Louis’s ear.

“Sleep, sleep—you won’t notice me cleaning your feet (‘Sister reminds the naughty Louis to sweep the floor tomorrow and wash Helen’s socks’), don’t forget to sweep tomorrow, and wash Helen’s socks... Oh, and mine as well!” she added, threateningly.

Harold suddenly noticed that, in the midst of their engrossing conversation, Louis—with a bewildered look—was being forcibly pulled out of the dream by some unseen force.

As he sensed himself about to awaken, Louis tried to shake off the voice, but then realized his head was held firmly in place. Warm lips gently kissed his forehead, and the voice continued by his ear.

“Little darling, be good, go to sleep... hehehehe (Osyclis’s mischievous chuckle)…”

In the end, Osyclis succeeded in waking Louis.

Seeing Louis’s dazed expression, Osyclis nodded in satisfaction and pride, set down an ancient tome from her arms, and flashed a triumphant V-sign to her sister Helen on the other side of the bed.

Helen happily bounced on the bed.

“Come on, Helen, bring the foot basin—one foot each!” Osyclis, smugly grabbing a damp towel, hummed a cheerful tune as she got out of bed.

[Clearly, I am the best.]

[This book seems to be accurate. I’ll have to read it carefully and see if I can further develop Louis... hehehehe.]

Louis: “……”

“Sis-sister, he—he’s got his eyes open.”

“Ah, as I said before, that’s normal. Look, his eyes are vacant.” Osyclis grinned triumphantly.

She climbed onto the bed, flipped through the book resting on Louis’s chest, leaned over him, and pointed earnestly to a page: “See here? ‘Under this type of hypnosis, the subject may occasionally open their eyes and display habitual, subconscious actions—even sleepwalking. Of course, it’s also possible he’s awake.’”

At this, the two sisters froze momentarily.

Then, Osyclis tugged on her camisole, propped her chin, and smiled confidently at Louis. “Let’s test it: if he’s hypnotized, he’ll nod.”

“Oh, oh, Louis, Louis, have you been hypnotized by your sister and forgotten everything that happened tonight?”

Louis nodded.

Their eyes lit up. Osyclis pressed further, “Will you sweep the floor tomorrow and wash mine and Helen’s socks? (‘Too lenient, sister! You should punish the rascal. You washed his underwear today—he should… why are you hitting me?’)”

Osyclis blushed and bit her lip. Her foolish sister—how could she let Louis wash such things?

“Helen, let’s have him clean our shoes instead—Louis, don’t forget to polish Helen’s and my shoes tomorrow.” She pinched Louis’s cheek and smiled, “You must squat down and clean them carefully for us—when you see us putting on shoes at the door, hurry over, little darling.”

Louis squinted and nodded deeply.

“Perfect!”

The sisters clapped their hands in celebration, giggling wickedly.

Soon, Helen brought a steaming foot basin. Osyclis tiptoed to Louis’s ear and whispered in her magical voice, “Time to wash your feet.”

Seeing the expectant looks in the sisters’ eyes, Louis obediently sat at the bedside and placed his feet in the basin. The sisters exchanged smiles and cheerfully took one foot each, washing them together.

Now, both had their share, and neither felt left out. Their hearts were content. Most importantly, they no longer had to squabble in secret over who washed feet on odd or even days. All that remained was the occasional argument sparked by the magical contract—Osyclis blaming Helen for writing so many terms, Helen blaming her sister for the mischievous tricks.

Whatever the case, the sisters now appeared quite content. Louis, too, felt content, keeping his head down and smiling as he watched the two sisters, busy and chatting, noticing Helen’s studies had slipped lately, and Osyclis still carried herself like a cheeky underachiever.

“Helen, I hear someone’s been causing trouble at the office lately?” the elder sister asked, puzzled.

“N-no… (‘Don’t lie! Or is it that you haven’t been to work?’) Oh, oh, I think Lilith and her friends have been dropping by to play with me…”

Listening to their conversation, Louis raised an eyebrow.

He had indeed spotted some threat letters and warnings slipped under the office door recently. He’d also seen some wandering Fox street punks and tough girls loitering outside.

He hadn’t paid much attention—after all, thanks to his efforts, most shops in Blackhorn Alley that could close had done so lately, like the Red Fox Den.

So there were plenty of idlers nowadays.

“Really? I heard Foxes have been ‘collecting debts’ everywhere…” Osyclis said anxiously. “Is the office dealing with the Foxes?”

From Osyclis’s nervous expression at the mention of Foxes, Louis realized things weren’t so simple.

The Foxes in the academy were a notorious foreign group. The white wizards didn’t dare cross these Foxes from Blackhorn Alley.

Many professors were even frightened of their own students.

The so-called “debt collection” and business dealings were, of course, dubious—some professors had borrowed usurious loans, others bought goods from Foxes.

They spent lab funds lavishly, purchasing junk from the Foxes.

Some professors acted willingly, others were forced by circumstance.

The Foxes used to be more restrained, since some professors also came from Blackhorn Alley. But ever since Sakura Bell claimed her backing was the Faceless One a few weeks ago, the true Blackhorn Alley dark wizards began treating the Foxes as goddesses.

This spoiled the Foxes and made the little foxes even more arrogant.

The young Foxes extorted, lent at high interest, and the academy had sunk into chaos these past two weeks.

Thus, Osyclis worried that the Foxes would cause trouble and questioned Helen to see if she needed to inform Sakura Bell.

Sakura Bell, in fact, was Osyclis’s big sister figure. Her younger sister Lilith was Helen’s own big sister figure.

Both sisters came from noble Fox families; Sakura Bell herself was a countess.

Though her rank fell short of princess, her family’s history was long and their connections deep among the Ministry and wizard nobility. The family was a force even the Witch Queen respected.

As for the Ministry, they had direct dealings with Sakura Bell—she laundered money for politicians. The true dark wizards, like Sakura Bell, were secretly supported by the Ministry.

Thus, Sakura Bell now counted as the big sister figure to fallen princess Osyclis, and Lilith, the debt-collecting gangster, was Helen’s big sister—even many professors feared Lilith as a troublemaker.

Lilith had been frightened by Stuart some days back and behaved herself for quite a while.

But now, her anxieties gone and the Faceless One backing her, she was eager to stir up mischief—she’d recently led the young Foxes around Dream Tower, vowing to catch and punish the evil spirit.

No luck so far.

Recently, her sidekick Helen complained about being bullied, so more fun was on the horizon.

Who knows if the bookworm had heard of the Faceless One, but that wasn’t important.

Lilith felt her own reputation was enough to intimidate Louis.

After all, she and her sisters styled themselves as dark wizards.

Osyclis, knowing the Foxes’ notorious reputation, felt uneasy after hearing all this.

“Should I tell Sakura Bell?” Osyclis bit her lip. Though they got along well, she still felt intimidated by the lady gangster.

“No need, sister, they’re just here to play with me, really.” Helen replied quickly.

Then she turned and wickedly grinned at Louis: [Just wait, Louis—watch how my big sister puts you in your place! Hmph, hmph.]

“That’s good. Don’t let them bully Louis, I hear they love to make people dance and play tricks.”

“Don’t worry, sister, I’ll protect Louis.” Helen patted her chest.

Clearly, those tough girls were summoned by Helen herself.

The maid outfit and stockings were already bought for Louis.

[Hmph, you started this, Louis. Now you’ll see how formidable I am.] The tough girl Helen grinned mischievously.