Late at night, a carriage sped out of South Los.
The driver shouted, and the wheels rumbled.
Inside the carriage, however, the mood was heavy and somber.
Just moments ago, Lissop had told his son that he had secured his safe return in exchange for twenty percent of the revenue from South Town's iron and coal mines.
Lissop could tell that hearing this had only deepened his son's guilt.
But...
That was not what he wanted.
He had no desire to see that guilt.
So the lord spoke again-
"This wasn't your fault, my son!
I was careless..."
"No, Father!
This was all my fault!
My arrogance and carelessness brought shame and losses upon our family!"
Young Lissop interrupted him.
The lord's son looked at his father, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his flesh. Blood slowly trickled down his palms.
Seeing this, the old steward beside him immediately took out a handkerchief to bandage his young master's wounds.
The old steward's eyes were filled with distress.
His words were even more laden with self-reproach.
"It was all my fault. If my investigation had been more thorough, none of this would have happened!"
"You weren't at fault either!
I was!
And it was all because of that fellow. If it weren't for him..."
Smack!
At his steward's consoling words, Young Lissop forced an ugly smile, then began gritting his teeth, bitter hatred rising in his eyes. But the next moment, that hatred gave way to shock. The lord's son covered his cheek and stared at his father in astonishment.
He did not understand why his father had struck him.
"Don't blame your own mistakes on your enemy's strength-when you chose him as your enemy, you should have anticipated that strength!
If you can't even face that