Son, You Must Learn Restraint!

Where had things gone wrong...

Lynn kept pondering. Using his noble status as a calling card and arranging a meeting with Laud through trade had been the quickest and safest method he could think of, yet he had hit a wall at the very first step.

This left Lynn somewhat troubled. He even suspected that Laud might have received some bad news and had deliberately gone into hiding.

If that was true, then things would be troublesome. Finding someone who truly intended to hide was no easy task.

As Lynn was thinking, the dense crowd at the harbor suddenly descended into chaos. Amid wave after wave of screams, an exquisitely decorated carriage sped down the narrow road toward him.

Which noble family was being so overbearing?

Lynn frowned and was about to step aside when the carriage stopped directly before him.

Before long, a tall, thin middle-aged man dressed neatly stepped down from the carriage and gave a deep bow.

"Finally, I have found you, Young Master Lott. Please return with me at once. Lord Pedrol has something very important to discuss with you!"

Faced with the sudden invitation, Lynn nearly failed to react. Fortunately, after recalling Lott's diary, he quickly determined that the man before him was the butler of the Pedrol estate. A bead of cold sweat appeared on Lynn's forehead.

He had only intended to borrow this identity temporarily, using it as a way to enter Harbor Town and arrange a meeting with Lame Laud. Yet the real owner of this identity had come looking for him.

And far sooner than he had expected!

Should he go or not?

Countless possibilities flashed through Lynn's mind. After pausing for a second or two beneath the butler's respectful yet resolute gaze, Lynn nodded, lifted the curtain, and climbed into the carriage.

Clatter, clatter...

The stalled carriage slowly began to move, rolling along the muddy dockside road. Its body swayed constantly, making Lynn feel somewhat uncomfortable.

"Before entering the estate, you would do well to clean yourself up. If Lord Pedrol sees you like this, he will certainly be displeased!" The carriage curtain was lifted again. The tall, thin butler glanced at Lynn's hands and offered a reminder.

Lynn lowered his head and only then noticed that his hands were covered in yellowish-black powder. It must have gotten on him while he had helped the halfling Bill move cargo barrels earlier.

Wait... Lynn suddenly raised his hand and lowered his head to sniff it.

This smell seemed to be...

Sulfur?

Pedrol's estate lay in the northwestern part of Harbor Town, on its busiest street. Its jet-black iron gates stood tall and imposing. Once the carriage slowly passed through them, Lynn quickly noticed what lay beneath the surface.

Fine weeds pushed through the cracks between the paving stones, while the flowerbeds planted on either side of the road had withered by half due to neglect.

Thinking about it, though, that was only natural. The Pedrol estate had not hired a gardener specifically to trim the flowerbeds for a long time.

After a simple wash, Lynn was led by a servant to the estate's front hall. Baron Pedrol was already waiting at the dining table, which was covered with a dark red tablecloth.

Seated at the table was also a brown-haired girl of around sixteen or seventeen. She stared at him with an indescribable look in her eyes. She was probably the younger sister Lott had mentioned, Evina...

Lynn quietly observed her and sat in the only empty seat. Before him sat a steaming steak and two or three leaves of some unknown vegetable. Clearly, this was his dinner for the day.

Compared to gnawing on black bread with water, this was already an extremely lavish meal!

"Where did you go, my son? I intended to see you last night, but you were not in the estate." Once Lynn sat down, Baron Pedrol questioned him with an unhappy expression, though his gaze involuntarily shifted toward the tall, thin butler who had entered alongside him.

"I found the young master at the harbor docks," the butler answered without shifting his gaze.

Baron Pedrol's face immediately darkened, and he said in a low voice, "I should have reminded you, Lott. A little relaxation is fine, but never spend the night in a place filled with such lowborn people, mixing with filthy prostitutes!"

Lynn was utterly speechless. So he thought I had gone whoring?

What made him feel even worse was that he could not exactly refute it. He could hardly say that his son had not returned last night because he had jumped into the sea to kill himself, could he?

Lynn imagined how Lott should react, then lowered his head and remained silent.

"I do not want there to be a next time!" Baron Pedrol's tone was extremely stern. After a pause, he continued.

"Also, for the next few days, all of you must be more alert. Harbor Town has not been peaceful lately."

"I heard that Bishop Antioch took a large force to Ur Town some days ago to capture those Demon's Followers, only to suffer grievous losses. Of a hundred elite guards, only a dozen or so returned alive. Not only that, even Bishop Antioch was severely wounded..."

"Are those wizards really that powerful?" Evina finally moved her gaze away from Lynn and asked in shock.

After all, while the Secas Empire was ostensibly ruled by kings and lords, the ones who truly controlled everything were the Church!

Or rather, the messengers in the mortal realm of the great Lord of Stars, the Goddess of Creation, [Ella].

And an Archbishop like Antioch was undoubtedly the spokesperson of the gods within Nordland Territory. Such a towering figure, someone ordinarily beyond imagination, had actually been defeated while pursuing wizards. The contrast was too much for Evina to accept for the moment.

"These wizards have already been corrupted by demons and command sorcery beyond the imagination of ordinary people. They are not so easy to deal with." At this point, Baron Pedrol could not help but shudder.

A year ago, he had met Bishop Antioch once. The man had looked roughly the same age as him, perhaps even younger. Yet when they met again that night, he had seen an elderly man of eighty or ninety, frail with age. He could not imagine what sort of sorcery could turn a powerful Bishop into such a state.

What Baron Pedrol could imagine even less was that the other protagonist in his story was sitting right beside him, calmly and methodically cutting his steak with knife and fork...

Lynn was also somewhat surprised by the news that Antioch was still alive. He had originally thought that, under those circumstances, Lord Bishop had only three possible fates.

Either he had been poisoned to death, crushed to death by falling rocks, or sacrificed himself to complete that Divine Descent Technique.

Or perhaps that so-called projection of [Ella] had saved him again.

But clearly, the rescue had not been complete. Otherwise, Pedrol would not have said that he had been severely wounded...

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