Refusal

The next morning, Renard tiptoed and closed the bedroom door. After instructing the servants not to disturb Selina, he quickly left the castle and headed towards the town center.

Before leaving Saint Brieuc Fortress, he wanted to greet Baron Hamilton first. Besides ensuring he wouldn't be forgotten by the baron, he also wanted to see if he could squeeze a little more out of the stingy old man.

Baron Hamilton usually worked in his villa in the town center, only summoning his subordinates to the castle for important matters.

About ten minutes later, Renard arrived in front of the two-story building.

Unlike the surrounding brick and stone buildings, this small building was entirely constructed of stone blocks, appearing sturdy and grand, fully reflecting the lord's status and authority.

However, the moment Renard stepped into the villa, he almost suffered a heart attack from the luxurious furnishings.

Perhaps to display his wealth, or perhaps due to his poor taste, the villa was filled with dazzling gold and vibrant red colors that made it hard to open his eyes.

The walls were painted golden yellow, the floors were paved with golden yellow tiles, and a thick, reddish-brown carpet covered the ground. The tables, chairs, chandeliers, and ceiling were all a mix of gold and red, and even the candle holders were golden.

The vases placed around were also uniformly ornate, dazzling Renard and causing his heart to twitch slightly. He secretly mused, The old guy has a peculiar preference for gold and reddish-brown.

This was Renard's misunderstanding. In fact, the most popular decoration style among nobles in the Kingdom of Arthur was like this; he was merely following the trend.

Of course, while others would decorate castles and palaces in this style, a villa built like this was probably unique.

He passed through the almost ostentatious living room and went up to the second floor. The decoration here was relatively normal, with nothing particularly striking.

Entering the office, Renard finally saw Baron Hamilton enjoying a meal.

The lord's face was beaming with a smile, as if something happy had happened. However, upon seeing him, the smile rapidly vanished, and his amiable demeanor disappeared completely.

If a metaphor were needed, "face-changing" would be most appropriate.

Baron Hamilton coughed lightly, signaling a servant to clear the tableware, and then stared intently at the uninvited guest.

Renard paid no mind to the man's unpleasant attitude. He walked to the dining table and respectfully bowed, "Good afternoon, Father."

"En, is there something?" Baron Hamilton asked calmly, wiping the grease from the corner of his mouth with a napkin. The action seemed rather incongruous with his burly physique.

The baron was somewhat curious. In his memory, his son had never visited this villa before, as it was where he kept his mistress. Why the exception today?

Renard didn't care about the baron's thoughts and spoke directly, "Father, I wish to travel and then go to Constantinople to continue my martial arts studies."

"That's a good idea." Baron Hamilton didn't refuse, but he didn't directly agree either, which was thought-provoking.

"You think so too?" Renard's tone was calm. He didn't think the baron would refuse him; after all, he was the scourge of Saint Brieuc Fortress. If he left, the baron would probably be happy.

However, to his surprise, Baron Hamilton suddenly frowned, as if the matter were difficult to decide.

After a long silence, the baron took a deep breath and then shook his head slightly, "No."

Renard couldn't help but widen his mouth. Was this the father from his memories who couldn't wait to get rid of him?

He wanted to say more, but the baron waved him off, "I know what you're thinking."

Baron Hamilton looked deeply at his son and added, "Regarding the academy, although it wasn't your fault, if you want to go back for revenge, then it is your fault. You know, if you were to succeed in revenge, how much trouble it would bring to the Duncan Family."

Renard remained silent. He was very dissatisfied with this answer, but he couldn't deny the fact. After all, Scum Renard had made enemies who were too powerful, so powerful that even the Duncan Family feared them.

However, he had no choice. What a joke, if he didn't go to Constantinople, the baron would be mourning his son in two years.

So Renard bravely took two steps forward and said forcefully, "I want to go back. Of course, I can promise not to seek revenge, as I only want to complete my studies smoothly."

"Do you think your words are trustworthy? You've caused me enough trouble over the years!" Baron Hamilton's expression suddenly turned sharp.

He then impatiently slammed the napkin onto the table and reprimanded, "I don't want to hear any more news about Constantinople Academy. This matter ends here."

In the past, the baron would indeed have been happy to get rid of this troublemaker. But after experiencing the pain of almost losing him, he was now very afraid of losing his son, and even more afraid of him causing immense trouble.

Thinking of his wife's earnest instructions before she left to take good care of their son, Baron Hamilton felt a pang of heartache for no reason. He said gravely, "I've been too indulgent with you in the past. From now on, you will stay home and study honestly."

Looking at his stern-faced father, Renard pursed his lips unwillingly. Recalling the baron's overbearing style, he knew he couldn't force the issue. Finally, he could only sigh in disappointment and turn to leave the villa.

Watching his son's dejected back, Baron Hamilton didn't know how he felt. He had observed his son's every move for the past two months; he seemed like a different person.

If he hadn't subtly asked a few very private questions and the other party had answered them all fluently, he would have suspected it wasn't his son.

Could this incident have affected him so deeply?

Baron Hamilton shook his head vigorously, casting aside unrealistic thoughts. His son was famously a scumbag and a degenerate, with a thicker skin than a city wall. How could he be affected? At most, he was just momentarily displeased.

The baron thought he understood his son, but he didn't realize that everyone had their limits, especially someone with an extreme personality like Scum Renard, whose tolerance was even lower than that of an ordinary person.

Imagine, a pampered rich young master being falsely accused of peeping, then being beaten to the ground in front of many classmates, and finally being stripped and paraded through the streets. Could he endure such humiliation?

And he had no recourse, with even his tutor believing it was his fault. Such a grievance couldn't be described in words.

Renard walked on the road, his heart burning with rage. He had to vent this anger; he wanted to let those people know the consequences of angering him.

At some point, the shut-in Renard had deeply immersed himself in the role of Scum Renard.