The Witcher’s Nightmare Wagon

Chapter 167 Onila's Death Diary

June 1, 1777.

Times have been terrible, and the publisher is pushing me to deliver again, but now every time I pick up a pen, those names flash through my mind.

Nat Mitodella, Bertie Hoult, and Madeleine Martin, they all died because of me.

It’s ironic that I’m afraid to write anything right now, as a writer I never imagined that what I wrote in my notes would one day become reality.

When did things start?

Early May or mid-May?

I just wrote a name randomly. I never thought that this name would appear in a real newspaper one day, and the tragic experience that happened to this child was exactly the same as the record in my book.

Maybe it's just a coincidence, I can only comfort myself.

But there are more and more weird dreams. Many times I would pick up the pen unconsciously. When I came back to my senses, I had already written a long paragraph in the diary.

They usually don't have names, just a simple scene, a sentence, many things can't be proved true or false, until one day a familiar person appeared for the first time in my diary.

terrible.

Is this just a nightmare of mine, or is it a real future?

I don't know, but he is my friend and I will not allow such a tragedy to happen to him.

Drive out of town.

But when I got there, thick smoke engulfed the barn. It was a fire like never before, and spread to the surrounding farmland. None of the 12 people who escaped in time were spared.

I didn't see the doctor's report, but I know he died of suffocation and not fire, because that's how it was described in my diary.

Is this some kind of demonic curse?

This quirky pen from the Southern Isles, or the journal wrapped in gray goatskin on the desk?

No, neither.

After replacing a dozen pens and throwing away a thick stack of diaries, I was finally convinced that something was wrong with me.

I don’t dare to read any newspapers now, and even let the maids force me to tie me to the bed when I’m resting, but I can’t help it, and the hallucinations still accompany me all the time.

Finally, in a deep sleep, I picked up a pen and wrote down a somewhat strange and familiar name.

Lawrence Skinner.

who is he?

Yes, I remembered, it was a boy I met by accident when I went to my aunt’s country manor for vacation 10 years ago. He was the same age as me at that time, about seventeen or eighteen years old.

Shy and handsome.

By the way, there is another person, Louis, his brother.

A calm young man full of eccentric charm.

Weird, why have I never thought of him before?

Obviously in my memory, Luis is so outstanding, special, and unforgettable at first sight.

But it was as if the man had never existed until I thought of Lawrence.

"In the lighthouse on the east coast, Onila Tares and Mr. Skinde found a letter addressed to themselves."

Looking at the handwriting on the note, I couldn't breathe with fear. This is the first time that my name appeared in the words I wrote.

Skinder, I must find both brothers.

…………

After buying some food, Sigmund returned to their old house in Liam City. The sun was just right in the afternoon. Although the weather was a bit hot, Sigmon saw Lawrence in front of the door from a distance. Busy figure.

This house is not big. The downstairs is a simple living room and kitchen. There are only two rooms above. The paint on the door is peeling off. When Sigmund returned, Lawrence was painting it with a brush. .

After leaving Liam City to visit Teresa, Lawrence seemed to be in a much better mood when he came back. The two exchanged a few words and put away their things. Sigmon rolled up his sleeves and helped Lawrence paint together.

After being busy until the evening, Lawrence returned to the kitchen to prepare dinner. After washing up, Sigmund sat on the steps in front of the door, feeling the long-lost peace.

This is ordinary life without superhuman intervention.

This is the lower part of Liam City. The houses are next to each other. As the sun is about to set, the busy workers rush home to eat, and the streets are extremely lively.

At this moment, someone rang a bell in the distance, and a black horse dragged a luxurious carriage with a golden top and white border into the street.

The carriage stopped for a while on the street, then started again, and came straight to Sigmund. The door opened, and a figure dressed as a maid jumped out of the carriage.

"Good evening, sir. Is this Mr. Skind's house?"

Sigmund looked the maid up and down. The standard maid decoration was made of high-quality materials. The price of this dress was more than half a year's income of an ordinary worker.

Looking into the carriage, Sigmund smiled.

"Lawrence, someone is looking for you!" He shouted casually.

With a handsome and vicissitudes of face, Lawrence is indeed easy to become the favorite of many noble ladies.

Haha, maybe there will be a good show in a while.

"who is it?"

Lawrence walked out of the room while wiping his hands. At this moment, he received positive news. The maid opened the carriage and led a woman in a white floral dress down.

The woman wore a white silk hat on her head, and a thin gauze covered her face. Judging from the exposed skin on her neck and palms, she was no more than 30 years old at most.

"I'm Lawrence Skind, may I ask..." Lawrence looked puzzled.

The woman lifted the veil, revealing a delicate and thin face. She looked extremely tired. When Lawrence looked at her, she was also looking at Lawrence carefully.

"Lawrence Skinner?"

"Yes, it's me." Lawrence nodded.

"You have changed so much. It's only been 10 years, and I almost don't recognize you anymore." The woman sighed, and stretched out her right hand generously.

"Onila Tares, remember me?"

"Ten years ago, I lived in the Vitas Manor in the small town of Vincennes for a while, and I often met you during that time."

"Vincent town."

Lawrence recalled, and seemed to think of something after a while, "I remember, the Vitas manor you mentioned is the place where Ms. Sophia lives. She is a good person and often helps people in the town."

"And you, of course, Miss Tares."

"You can just call me Onela." The woman chuckled, and then turned her gaze to Sigmund who was standing aside.

"Who is this……"

"He is Sigmund, my son." Lawrence introduced.

"This Miss Thales was my childhood friend."

"Wait, what did you say?!" Onila's eyes widened.

"Is he your son? Stop joking, Lawrence."

"Although I don't know why only 10 years have passed, you look so much older, but your son?!" Onila covered her mouth and chuckled.

"Unless you have a baby when you're 9, 10 years isn't enough time to raise a baby this big!"

After hearing what Onila said, Lawrence looked astonished, but Sigmund's expression immediately became serious.

At this moment, Onila frowned and seemed to think of something, "I see, you are joking."

She smiled slightly.