Mr. Leonardo Michelangelo

After Yveta and the others left the castle, they asked a few farmers for information. Everyone told them the lord had only one son and no daughters.

Yveta was starting to think the whole quest was a practical joke.

Or perhaps he had misunderstood Old Druid earlier, and the blacksmith-recruitment quest on the last board really was the one from the prophecy!

He hoped they could still take that quest if they went back now.

Even so, they had wasted a pile of supplies and the eight-penny fee.

The sky was growing dim. It was time to decide whether to leave.

Black Wolf said that staying overnight in this strange place was a bad idea, especially since its owner didn't welcome them.

He'd rather sleep out in the wilderness than stay here.

In a rare turn, Old Witch agreed with him and advised that they leave at once.

Yveta also realized that Baron Moro was very concerned about people learning of his son's situation. What if he decided to kill them to keep them quiet?

The odds were low, but they couldn't afford to let their guard down.

So they climbed into the carriage, hitched up the ox again, and left the Moro Baron Territory.

Alicia's child had been very well-behaved. He seemed to understand his mother's difficulties, and despite all the traveling, he didn't make a sound.

He simply slept soundly.

After Yveta let the child sleep inside the carriage, Alicia looked very grateful.

Night had fully fallen, and they were about to leave the Moro Baron Territory when something suddenly stirred in the bushes by the road.

Black Wolf reacted quickly. He snatched the Short Crossbow from his back, leaped out of the carriage, and aimed at the bushes. "Who's there?"

Old Witch's tightly shut eyes snapped open, a glint of cold light showing in them.

Yveta also touched the Gryare Eye Ring, ready to use the Lightning Curse it held at any moment.

Had the Boar Knight Order caught up with them, or was it an assassin from the Little Brotherhood of Faith?

"Wait, it's...it's me..."

A head poked out from the bushes. It was none other than Branton, Baron Moro's eldest son.

Branton looked at the crossbow in Black Wolf's hands with a grave expression and hurriedly waved his hands. "Don't, don't...it's me."

Black Wolf put away the Short Crossbow and frowned. "Your father drove us away, and now you've stopped us."

"What's the meaning of this?"

"No one in the Moro family knows how to treat guests."

Branton said anxiously, "Everyone, I swear to God, I had absolutely no intention of making fools of you warriors."

"I posted the quest because I really do have a younger sister, and she was taken by an ogre."

Yveta stepped out of the carriage. "But your father said you don't have a sister, and everyone living nearby says your father has no daughter."

"One person can lie, but could everyone be lying?"

"How do you explain that?"

Branton flushed red and pulled out half of a painting. It showed Baron Moro holding the hands of a girl and a boy.

The boy looked a lot like Branton, only younger.

"Look, this is a famous painting I secretly kept."

"This is the work of Mr. Leonardo Michelangelo, an art master from Ambrose. His signature is in the corner. You don't have to believe me, but surely you can believe the master."

Yveta walked over and accepted the painting, half-convinced.

Sure enough, the artist's name was inscribed at the bottom, along with a short blessing—

[For Baron Moro and his happy family. May you be blessed with a clever son and a lovely daughter.]

Black Wolf leaned over to look at the painting, then looked up at Branton in disbelief. He said to Yveta, "If the signature isn't fake, then we can trust the master's word."

"Is Mr. Leonardo Michelangelo really that famous?" Old Witch said scornfully. "Couldn't this baron's son have threatened that little painter into forging it?"

Black Wolf and Leili stared at Old Witch, speechless.

Branton was utterly stunned. He stared at the Hearthstone Great Witch in shock. "You called him a little painter?"

"Do you know what standing he has in Ambrose?"

Old Witch had never cared much for things among mortals that had nothing to do with money.

Leili coughed and reminded her, "Mr. Leonardo Michelangelo is one of Ambrose's most prestigious painters. It's said the mayor of Pavela once paid him 3,600 gold pounds to paint a representative mural on one wall of the city's landmark church."

"He wanted the painting and the church to become a source of pride for the city of Pavela."

"But halfway through the work, Mr. Leonardo Michelangelo suddenly decided that 3,600 gold pounds wasn't enough to pay for his masterful art."

"So Mr. Leonardo Michelangelo painted only half the mural before leaving. He then declared that a painting large enough to cover one wall of a church was worth at least 7,200 gold pounds."

"The mayor of Pavela was furious, but the incident became the very thing that established Mr. Leonardo Michelangelo's reputation."

Only then did Old Witch understand that he wasn't some little painter, but a master renowned throughout the Viscount Country.

She snorted.

Yveta felt the situation growing stranger by the moment. Judging by how things were going, this quest really might be the one from the prophecy.

He looked at Branton. "But how did you get this painting? You shouldn't have been able to afford such a high fee."

He'd asked the people around them about a few things and combined that with what he knew from his memories. A small barony usually brought in only seven hundred to a little over a thousand gold pounds a year.

In a particularly poor place, it might bring in even less.

Branton began to feel that something was off. The people before him didn't seem like ordinary adventurers.

Ordinary adventurers weren't very educated and were easy to fool.

But everyone in this group spoke with refinement and had extensive knowledge.

Talking with them even made him feel as if he were speaking with a group of nobles.

This made Branton instinctively lower his expectations. He said, "It came about through a series of coincidences. My grandfather was acquainted with the master, so he painted this for us. But this is the only painting."

"I don't know what happened to make everyone forget my sister, but fortunately, there's still this painting the master left behind."

"Though it's the only evidence I have."

Yveta frowned and looked down at the painting.

"But if we help you find your sister—or at least her body—how much will you pay us?"

Branton had originally planned to try a trick, perhaps taking advantage of the adventurers' lack of experience to push the fee down.

But now he'd changed his mind. He was afraid of angering Yveta and the others and making them leave.

The situation was now in Yveta's hands.

Branton thought for a moment, then named a huge sum. "Seventy-five pounds!"

"It's everything I've managed to save."

"Will that do?"

Yveta thought about it. That was already dozens of times more than a normal quest would pay.

If Branton weren't in such a special situation and so worried about his sister, he'd never have offered such an outrageous sum.

In other words, he could offer so much because this was the money that might save his sister's life.

And they were Branton's only hope, the only mercenaries he could possibly hire.

But this wasn't what Yveta wanted.

He wanted something other than money.

Still, he'd observe the situation first.

"120 gold pounds," Yveta said. "We can't take less than that."

"And if something new comes up and we decide the fee needs to go up, we'll have to raise it."

"You..." Branton gritted his teeth. "All right. Afterward, I can borrow some money from the merchants to pay you."

"I hope you'll be worth that much."

"Please help me find my sister."

Yveta made sure not to give him too much hope. "That's assuming your sister is still alive. Otherwise, at most, we'll find her body."

"We can't bring the dead back to life."

"You understand that."

Branton sighed, knowing Yveta was telling the truth. "Yes, I understand."