The Prelude to the Storm

A month passed, and the time came to July, the hottest season.

The trees outside Eagle Fortress had long been felled, so there was no annoying cicada chirping, but under the prolonged scorching sun, the castle was as hot as a steamer.

"Ugh..."

Lady Denise brushed a slightly damp strand of hair behind her ear and let out a stifled breath of hot air, but the expression on her face revealed her cheerful mood.

Through Raven's marketing and her own superb business acumen, Angel's Tear had sold at a high price of one gold coin and seventy silver coins per bottle.

Although Raven had given away over sixty bottles for free to promote it, and the first batch sold to nobles came with discounts, they still managed to sell a total of three hundred and seventy-six bottles. After deducting all costs, they had earned a profit of three hundred and thirty-six gold coins and fifty-five silver coins in just the first month.

Of course, seventy percent of that belonged to Raven, but even so, Fedro Commerce still pocketed a hundred gold coins.

The nobles wouldn't buy in bulk again anytime soon, but they could serve as a powerful demonstration effect. As long as it became fashionable, sales shouldn't drop too much for at least the next year.

This was indeed a suitable business.

Within less than a year, her initial investment would be fully recouped, and all subsequent income would be pure profit. Even if sales declined later, her annual share of the dividends shouldn't be less than five hundred gold coins.

Five hundred gold coins!

That was almost equivalent to a Shining Gold Town—Fedro Commerce's entire annual net profit was just that much!

And all of this stemmed from one of Raven's inventions, which had taken only three days from start to finish.

Denise felt she could no longer see through this man. Was he really just a lowborn thug?

Knock, knock, knock.

A knock sounded: "Lady Denise, your iced Angel's Tear is here."

"Come in." Denise leaned back in her chair, ready to enjoy a rare moment of leisure in the summer heat.

The door opened, and the maid was about to bring the tray in when she suddenly noticed a large hand supporting it from underneath. Startled, she was about to cry out, but then she saw Raven's face.

He raised a finger to his lips, signaling her to be quiet, then tilted his head slightly.

The maid understood and quietly slipped away.

Raven carried the tray into the room and gently closed the door.

In this sweltering summer day, Denise was dressed very lightly, wearing only a thin, pale purple silk dress.

Dampened by sweat, that thin layer of silk clung softly to her tender skin, making it hard to tell whether the silk made her skin look firmer, or her skin made the silk feel smoother.

She sat with her eyes closed, leaning back in her chair, her black hair cascading down. Her full, red lips were strikingly eye-catching, and her slender, long neck exuded a sensual, alluring, moist sheen.

Below that was her voluptuous figure, showing no signs of sagging, pushing the fabric into a seductive curve.

Nothing underneath.

Beneath the silk dress, her knees pressed together, her legs slightly apart, and her ten toes playfully spread out, resting on the soft carpet, each one painted a fresh, bright red.

Raven couldn't bear to disturb this beautiful sight. He tiptoed forward, set the tray on the table, quietly poured a glass of wine, and handed it to Denise.

Her hand touched the glass, and her index finger landed on the back of Raven's hand. Suddenly, she opened her eyes: "What are you doing here!?"

She tried to stand up, but the position of her legs made it hard to get leverage. She had barely risen halfway when she collapsed back down with a muffled grunt.

Ripples stirred.

"This is my castle, I can be wherever I want," Raven said. "And I'd advise you not to move too much. The more you move, the clearer I can see."

"You scoundrel!" Denise shot him a fierce glare, slammed the glass onto the table, ignored his advice, and stood up. She swayed her slender waist as she walked gracefully to the wardrobe, pulled out a thick nightgown, and wrapped herself in it. "What do you want now?"

Denise was tall and curvaceous, and the sight of her walking to the wardrobe in that thin silk dress was so dazzling that it made one want to rush over and take that beautiful view into their arms.

Raven adjusted his posture so as not to wrong his little brother, and said with a smile: "I'm here to collect the rest of my payment, Aunt. You still owe me seven hundred gold coins."

"When the funds come in, I'll give it to you, of course," Denise said. "Business is about cooperation and mutual benefit. If I go bankrupt, it won't do you any good."

"I know that," Raven said, his gaze falling on her neck, which was slick with sweat from the heat. "But I need a sum of money urgently. Can't you push a little harder?"

"Impossible." Denise resented Raven's stare, but she couldn't cover up any more—it was simply too hot.

This stifling heat only made her angrier: "Last time, to pay you your three hundred gold coins, I had to divert the funds meant for buying autumn grain. This time's profits have to go right back to fill that gap."

"If you want quick money, then hand over the formula for that wondrous liquid used to make Angel's Tear!"

Raven shook his head. "You know that's impossible."

"Then please be patient," Denise said, pointing at the door. "Now, I need to plan the next phase of the business. I want you to leave my room immediately, right now!"

Raven spread his hands. "Can't you go back to Monen City and take out a loan in Fedro Commerce's name..."

Before he could finish, a pillow came flying straight at his head.

Thump. Raven caught the pillow steadily, buried his face in it, and took a deep sniff. "Mm... smells nice. Is this the rouge from [Elegant Lady]?"

Denise was both embarrassed and furious: "Raven!!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down, Aunt Denise. A calm mind cools the body—you're only this hot because you're thinking too much." Raven slowly backed away. "Since you won't agree, Aunt, I'll take my leave."

He stepped back step by step, and just as he was about to leave, he turned his head back: "Oh, by the way, I still prefer the purple one."

Denise froze for a moment, then looked down at her toes. For a second, she didn't know how to react.

Raven closed the door and shook his head lightly.

He hadn't come here just to tease Denise—though that was certainly entertaining enough.

He was worried about something else.

Back in the meeting room, Old Gordon was already waiting: "Lord Raven, everything has been arranged as you instructed, no omissions."

"Weston didn't cause any trouble?" Raven asked.

A hint of a smile crept onto Gordon's face: "No, young master Weston heard it was something you ordered and didn't even dare come near."

"But is this really wise, Lord Raven? After all, this is Eagle Fortress..."

"Precisely because it's Eagle Fortress, I have to do this." Raven said firmly. "Starting tonight, you and Bolo will go stay at Eric's house. Remember, don't tell anyone else."

"Your decisions are always wise." Gordon bowed. "As you command, my lord."

Hurried footsteps approached, and a maid reported anxiously: "My lord, it's bad! Master Bolo is injured!"

Raven immediately grew alert. Bolo held the key to the saponification reaction, so he couldn't afford to take this lightly: "Calm down, tell me the details."

"Master Bolo is hurt, badly hurt! His right hand is burned over a large area—it looks, it looks like moldy rotten meat!" The maid's face was twisted with fear and panic.

Her account was chaotic, but Raven gathered that Bolo wasn't in mortal danger: "Where is he? Take me there."

"Yes, yes!" The maid didn't even bother to bow properly, turning and leading the way.

Raven sighed quietly to himself. This maid's quality was truly worrying.

But there was no helping it.

This world had professions like maids and servants, but the bonds of personal dependency were strong. They were usually sent to noble estates at a very young age, subjected to harsh training, and worked there for life.

To cut down on castle expenses and reduce the chance of his secrets being discovered, Donald had fired all the trained maids and manservants. The ones at the ceremony a month ago had been rented at high cost from Shining Gold Town by Gordon.

Now that Eagle Fortress's finances were gradually easing, the castle had gained three rough maids, but they were all commoners by birth, with no training at all. There was no one else to choose, so they had to make do.

Arriving at the sickroom, the moment he stepped inside, Raven caught a salty, foul smell—clearly the odor of sodium hydroxide solution.

Bolo was lying on the sickbed, clutching his hand, drenched in sweat. A maid was frantically trying to bandage his hand with gauze, but with little effect; blood was seeping through the cotton.

"My lord, why have you come?" Bolo sat straight up in bed and glared at the maid. "Didn't I tell you not to disturb the lord?!"

"I came on my own." Raven sighed helplessly and said coldly, "You two, go out and attend to your duties. I'll handle this."

The maid in charge of bandaging flinched: "But my lord..."

"Out!" Raven's tone sharpened, and the two maids quickly bowed and turned to leave.

Peeling back the gauze bit by bit, Bolo clenched his teeth tightly.

Though he had anticipated it, Raven still couldn't help but suck in a sharp breath when he saw the wound.

On that fleshy palm, the skin was burned into twisted, coarse ridges, like a tightened fishing net, with tender flesh exposed beneath, resembling a sausage burst from roasting, blood oozing out in streams.

"How did it get this bad?" Raven asked. "Didn't I tell you to always wear gloves when handling caustic soda?!"

"My lord, the weather is just too hot. Wearing gloves all day gave me heat rash all over both hands..." Bolo muttered, head down. "And I didn't think it would suddenly burst when heated..."

Raven asked: "You used an iron pot!?"

Bolo's face flushed red: "Yes... yes, we ran out of wooden barrels at the time..."

"You really, really don't know when to quit!" Raven was almost amused despite himself. "Did you think the rules I set for you were a joke?!"

Sodium hydroxide and iron react under high heat to produce water, iron oxide, and hydrogen. The first two were harmless, but the third was a deadly thing!

It was lucky it had burst right in the pot. If it had reacted a little longer, the whole kitchen might have been wrecked.

Grabbing a basin of clean water, Raven pressed Bolo's hand into it, then turned around and poured half of the self-replenishing Healing Potion into a water bowl, handing it to Bolo: "Drink this."

Bolo nodded and drank the potion, then let out an exclamation: "Heavens, it's incredible!"

The wound on his hand began to close at an astonishing speed. The bleeding stopped immediately. Though it wasn't fully healed, he'd be able to move it again in at most half a month.

"Take half a month off to rest at home." Raven said. "For the next while, I'll hire someone from Shining Gold Town to handle the meals."

Bolo didn't want to lose this well-paying job: "But Lord Raven..."

"Don't worry, no one will take your place." Raven said with a smile. "Once your injury heals, if you don't want to keep working on improving the Angel's Tear, you can just focus on your original duties."

"I do want to, my lord!" Bolo nodded vigorously. "I swear, next time I won't disobey your orders!"

"Mm, I believe you." Raven patted his shoulder and turned to leave.

For a lord, the cook and the personal guard were the two most important positions. No matter who you clashed with, you couldn't afford to fall out with these two. Even if you couldn't keep them on, you had to pacify them before replacing them.

Because their duties directly concerned the lord's safety.

Raven had grown up reading Romance of the Three Kingdoms in his past life, and he had no intention of repeating the fate of that fellow with the leopard's head and round eyes who wielded the eight-span serpent spear.

"Talents are hard to come by!" Walking through the castle, Raven let out a quiet sigh.

Bolo had made a serious mistake, but Raven couldn't replace him yet.

After all, no one else could handle the task of preparing glycerin.

Though the technique wasn't difficult, it required precision in operation, and it involved the secret of the Angel's Tear. Only someone absolutely loyal could be trusted with it.

Most of the commoners were loyal enough, but they weren't clever. Teaching them would take who knows how long.

And with more people knowing, word was bound to leak sooner or later.

"Lord Raven!" Eric's figure appeared at the end of the corridor. "I heard you were looking for me?"

"How did the equipment procurement go?" Raven asked.

"Not optimistic," Eric said. "The best bows nearby mostly come from the Thousand Needle Pine Forest, and that's now in the hands of the Worton Family. They're asking five gold coins for a bow worth three—far too expensive. I've already sent someone to Monen City to find other contacts."

Raven wasn't surprised by this outcome.

A month ago, after returning to Ironforge Castle, Anger woke up and gave Judra a thorough scolding, publicly declaring that Judra's promises were completely invalid and that the Worton Family would never hand over the interests rightfully theirs.

This naturally violated noble honor, but aside from a few lukewarm criticisms, no one stepped forward to uphold justice or restore order.

After all, without any stake in the conflict, who would wade into such muddy waters for no reason?

Raven asked, "We still have some good beechwood in the warehouse. Can't we make our own bows?"

"Not that simple," Eric said with a bitter smile. "I've seen the process for making a strong bow before. It's complicated—dozens of steps, a long workflow. It takes at least three years to finish one, and the yield rate is very low. Otherwise, the price wouldn't be so high."

Raven had only asked casually. Hearing this, he could only sigh again. "Talented people are hard to come by!"

"There is a way, actually," Eric said. "But it's not exactly... honorable."

Raven's eyes lit up. He looked at his retainer with some surprise, never expecting that Eric—with his thick brows, small eyes, and honest face—would say something like this. "What's not honorable? Spill it."

"You know, the Continental Convention from two hundred and thirty years ago explicitly banned the slave trade," Eric said, a little embarrassed but still lowering his voice. "But the Bloody Highlands doesn't care about that. I've heard there's often slave trading there, including skilled dwarves, grey dwarves, and gnomes."

Raven grew interested. "What about the others?"

"Elves, catgirls, foxgirls, drow—are there any?!"

"Presumably so..." Eric said.

Raven pressed on. "What about the prices?!"

"Well, I've never been there myself, so I don't know much," Eric said. "But back when I served Lord Donald, I heard some things. They say an elf can cost tens of thousands of gold coins. As for dwarves and grey dwarves, the price ranges from a few hundred to over a thousand gold coins. If they have Transcendent power, the price goes even higher."

A look of eager anticipation spread across Raven's face. He didn't have enough money now, but sooner or later he would. He was already looking forward to that scene...

Suddenly, hurried footsteps sounded. Gaul burst in, drenched in sweat.

"Lord Raven! Just as you predicted, traces of bandits have been found near Eagle Beak Mountain!"

At the same time, inside the Eagle's Wing Inn in Shining Gold Town.

A man draped in a brown cloak knelt on one knee. "Lord Hyde, I've just received word. They've arrived!"

Hyde asked, "How strong are they?"

The man replied, "Two First-tier Transcendents, six First-tier Magic Beast mounts, and sixteen seasoned killers. Last year, Viscount John's twenty-man squad, led by a Second-tier Knight, was wiped out by them while transporting goods."

"Good." A cold smile crept across Hyde's face. "Tell them not to hold back. Just leave Raven alive."

"Raven, since you refuse to take these five thousand gold coins, I'll use them to beat you into submission!"