This Will Be My Territory

Chapter 4

Gordon had expected Raven to take him to the study, but after several twists and turns, they somehow ended up in the kitchen.

As a castle with quite a long history, Eagle Fortress's kitchen was not small. In the middle stood an island nearly five meters long, formed by two wooden tables pushed together. Against the wall on the right was a massive oven, large enough to fit an entire pig.

Behind the island was a stove with three fire pits and six burners. Its surface had long been blackened by smoke and flame. Hams and cured meat of unknown age hung above it, while a few embers still glowed in the middle fire pit.

Raven's gaze swept around before landing on the rack at the far right, where three long loaves of bread had already been baked.

Each loaf was nearly a meter long and as thick as a forearm. They were hard as rocks when tapped, practically a substitute for crowbars.

Looking at their reddish-brown crusts and feeling their weight in his hand, Raven exclaimed, "The cook here must have been a blacksmith!"

Gordon was somewhat puzzled. "My lord, you are...?"

"Hungry," Raven said. "Would you like something to eat too?"

A noble needed to maintain an untouchable image before commoners in order to establish authority, but there was no need to do so before Gordon.

He was the Griffith Family's Butler. After forty years, he had long become inseparable from the family. Their fortunes rose and fell together, and he would never make a choice that harmed the family's reputation or interests.

Gordon shook his head. "No, Lord Raven."

"Then you'll regret it for a while." Smiling, Raven placed the bread on the island, poked apart the ashes in the stove, and stuffed in straw and firewood.

The fire began to burn. Raven found two onions beneath the island and started preparing them methodically. "Mr. Gordon, tell me about Denise."

Gordon considered his wording before saying, "Denise is currently thirty-four years old. At twenty, she married Fedro, a wealthy merchant from Monen City. At twenty-one, she gave birth to a son named Weston."

"At twenty-six, Fedro died of illness. Denise inherited all of his estate and ownership of his businesses."

"At thirty, four years ago, she married Lord Donald as his second wife, bringing two thousand gold coins as her dowry. In exchange, Donald acknowledged Weston as his stepson and granted him inheritance rights to the Griffith Family."

By then, Raven had finished chopping the onions and was working on fresh mushrooms. "Mr. Gordon, it seems your introduction omitted part of the story."

"I only stated the facts I know," Gordon said politely. "As for my personal impression of her, it would only affect your judgment of the situation."

Raven nodded in satisfaction. He placed an iron pot over a heated burner, cut off a piece of butter, and tossed it in. "Pedro Commerce. I've heard that name before. I heard it mainly dealt in grain trade. I didn't expect it to be run by a woman."

"For her to marry into a wealthy merchant family as the principal wife at twenty, she must be very beautiful."

"In times like these, it is difficult for a woman to inherit an estate, but very easy for her to become part of one. For her to take over all of Fedro's inheritance, she must be exceptionally shrewd and capable."

"And by marrying Uncle Donald, she was willing to pay the enormous sum of two thousand gold coins just so her son could inherit the Nobility Title. That shows she has a clear mind and a definite goal."

A rich mushroom fragrance had begun to rise from the pot. Raven inhaled deeply in satisfaction and poured in some flour. "If I'm not mistaken, Denise probably hasn't shared a bed with Uncle Donald since marrying into the family, has she?"

Gordon chose his words carefully. "Since marrying in, she has indeed rarely returned to Eagle Town. However, she has maintained a schedule of once every three months, staying only three days each time."

Raven slowly added milk to the pot, and an increasingly clear image of Denise formed in his mind.

A beautiful wealthy woman. A shrewd merchant.

Merchants always valued profit and excelled at weighing gains and losses. Shrewd merchants especially so.

Raven was gradually beginning to form a plan for dealing with this step-aunt he had never met.

"When will she return next?"

Gordon took out a notebook and adjusted his Monocle. "...At least two days. At most four."

"I understand."

The soup began to thicken, releasing the rich blended aroma of milk and mushrooms that made one's mouth water.

As he stirred the pot with a ladle, Raven asked, "What about Weston? What kind of person is this cousin of mine?"

"He is tall and strong," Gordon said. "At the beginning of this year, he was expelled from Asbel Academy for injuring a classmate. Since then, he has remained at home under the instruction of private tutors."

Raven nodded slowly.

Asbel Academy was a famous noble school in Monen City. Education was secondary; most nobles sent their children there to expand their connections. Enrollment was restricted to children between seven and twelve.

Weston was already thirteen and had still been at the academy, which meant a considerable amount of money must have been spent to keep him there. That alone showed Denise's indulgence. Yet despite all that money, he had still been expelled. He must have caused enough trouble to offend someone he should not have.

A spoiled, foolish rich brat.

A weakness of Denise's that could be exploited.

With a final pinch of salt, the pot of creamy mushroom soup was complete.

"Want some?" Raven served himself a large bowl first, then looked at Gordon.

Gordon swallowed. He was tempted, but he still observed the etiquette expected of a servant and shook his head in refusal.

Raven did not press him. He sat by the island, scooped up a small spoonful of soup, and put it in his mouth. His eyes immediately narrowed as he gave a satisfied hum.

The aromas of butter, mushrooms, milk, and toasted flour blended perfectly together. The flavor was thick and rich. The moment it entered his mouth, it filled the exhausted Raven with strength.

Confucius once said: "One should never tire of refined food, nor of finely prepared meat."

This was the one matter in which Raven strictly followed the old master's teachings.

He could make do in every other aspect of life, but he would never mistreat his stomach. That was why, in his previous life, even with a post-tax monthly salary of only seven thousand, he had still rented an apartment that cost two thousand five hundred a month.

There was no other reason: it had a kitchen, so he could cook for himself!

He soaked pieces of bread in the soup, then waited until they had absorbed their fill before scooping them into his mouth. The pure fragrance of wheat mingled with the rich soup. The once rock-hard crust softened from the soaking while retaining its chewiness. One bite was a double delight for both texture and taste!

Watching Raven enjoy his meal, Gordon could not help but sigh inwardly. This young master Raven really had changed.

Although his appearance had not changed, when he had first arrived at Eagle Fortress, his eyes had been restless and unfocused. He had clearly not been prepared to inherit the Nobility Title. Even the way he spoke and acted carried the shrewd, worldly air of the marketplace, without a trace of the restraint or bearing expected of a noble.

But Raven's performance today had made Gordon see him in a new light. His way of tying Eric to his own chariot had been mature and decisive. It seemed reckless, but was in fact extremely cautious. Though he had used threats, he had not left Eric overly resentful, displaying remarkably mature methods.

Furthermore, he had shown neither prejudice nor contempt toward Denise. Instead, he regarded her as an opponent who had to be taken seriously, revealing a highly seasoned way of thinking.

Having served the Griffith Family for forty years, Gordon knew everything about the family, including the secret Donald believed he had hidden flawlessly.

Out of loyalty to the Griffith Family, he had not chosen to expose it. He had merely kept it all silently in his heart. Thus, Donald's death had not stirred much emotion in him, and he had held no particular preference toward Raven either.

But now things were different.

He saw hope for the Griffith Family's revival in Raven. Naturally, he wanted to help him inherit the Nobility Title rather than let the descendant of a merchant with no Griffith blood tarnish that name.

Perhaps Lord Raven had seen this very point, which was why he had focused on Eric instead of an old man like himself. That, too, reflected his exceptional insight.

"What is it, Mr. Gordon? Is there something on my face?" Raven had already finished his portion.

"No, my lord." Gordon withdrew his gaze. "It is only that when one gets old, one's thoughts tend to wander."

"Then you should get some rest early. I should head back as well." Raven stood and walked over to him. "You worked hard tonight. Rest well. Tomorrow, we can discuss how to handle Uncle Donald's funeral."

Gordon nodded. "As you command, my lord."

Following his memories, Raven found the baron's bedroom. He had barely kicked off his shoes and did not even have time to take off his clothes before plunging face-first onto the bed, overwhelmed by the exhaustion of someone who had worked overtime for a week straight just to meet a deadline.

Vaguely, he seemed to hear King Yama complaining.

This sleep was especially comfortable. His entire body felt incomparably relaxed, brimming with fresh vitality, as if he had returned to the age of twenty.

That only made Raven panic.

Whenever he slept this comfortably in the past, it usually meant only one thing—he was going to be late.

He jerked upright in bed. Seeing the bright sunlight outside the window, Raven's heart abruptly relaxed. A smile curled across his lips. "I am Raven Griffith.

"The Griffith Family's first heir."

That was right. He had already transmigrated. He was no longer that office drone who spent every day traveling between two points. This body was truly only twenty years old—a vibrant twenty-year-old body!

That was why he could enjoy all of this: leisurely, undisturbed sleep without having to worry about anyone interrupting him; a bedroom broad enough to run wild in.

And an entire castle!

Eagle Fortress was built against a mountain and covered roughly five thousand square meters. Aside from the walls and courtyard, the castle's main structure occupied about a quarter of the area.

The castle's main structure stood seventeen meters tall and had four floors. It possessed everything a baronial castle should have, and even things it should not.

A hall, armory, Prayer Room, conference room, reception room, study, kitchen, and latrine.

Naturally, there were also bedrooms for the master, guests, and servants, numbering no fewer than forty in total.

On his first day here, Raven had done nothing but walk around, and that alone had taken nearly half a day.

In his previous life, the place he rented was called an apartment, but it was actually a civilian home partitioned by its owner into tiny rooms. It was barely over twenty square meters. If he made even a little too much noise, complaints would come from neighbors on every side.

But now, he could do whatever he pleased within this castle without restraint, never needing to worry about anyone's judgment.

"Ah—" Raven shouted as he stretched lazily, then rolled out of the bed covered in smooth silk. Barefoot, he stepped onto the soft carpet and slowly walked to the window. His hands rested on the hard, cold black Granite Marble windowsill, yet his heart grew hotter and hotter.

This was the highest point of the entire castle, and the place with the broadest view.

To the south stretched an endless green plain. Eagle Town sat amid it, wisps of cooking smoke drifting over the town like morning mist, dreamlike yet full of the warmth of daily life.

West of the town lay hundreds of acres of cultivated fertile farmland. Some of the territory's people were already working there, while more carried hoes and led plow oxen to join them. The scene was full of life.

The Golden Sand River, like a golden ribbon, cut across the land from northeast to southwest, dividing it into two.

Farmland lay on this side of the river, while the scenery on the other side was far more varied.

At the far east was a forest extending into the mountains. It not only produced pinewood for fuel, but also vast stretches of high-quality beech trees, the finest material for making sturdy bows.

Directly south was a quarry built against the mountains. The Granite Marble produced there was of excellent quality and sold well. More than three hundred miners worked within it, and Eagle Fortress itself had been built from the stone produced there.

The mountain range stretching southwest of the quarry was Eagle Mountain. Beyond Eagle Mountain lay the Bloody Highlands, a paradise for scum, a breeding ground for crime, the most notorious lawless land on the entire continent and the source of all unrest in the surrounding region.

At the far west stood an even larger town—Shining Gold Town.

One road ran east, connecting the quarry and Eagle Town. Another extended south, then curved sharply farther south to connect with Viscount Walton's Territory. Following that road for more than ten days would bring one to the pearl of the Cairns Empire's northwest—Monen City.

Because of its excellent location, Shining Gold Town had become the most prosperous trade center within a hundred miles. Both its permanent population and tax revenue far exceeded those of Eagle Town, which relied mainly on agriculture.

On both sides of the river, as far as the eye could see, lay Griffith Family land.

A spark called ambition began to blaze fiercely within Raven's heart.

In his previous life, he had merely been an office drone. His 996 workdays were spent buried in PowerPoints, summaries, and reports. On the rare occasions he rested, a good night's sleep alone consumed most of his time. Before he could recover properly, he had to throw himself back into work. He had no ambition, let alone dreams.

But now, things were different.

He was Raven.

Raven Griffith.

As long as he inherited the Nobility Title, he could add the word "Ota" to his name and officially become a noble.

Raven's gaze roamed across the land, greedily taking in everything before him. He slowly clenched his fist, as if he could grasp all of it in his hand.

"This will be my territory!"

No matter who came, no one would take it from him!