As one of Loen's former great noble families, all that remained of its legacy today was a viscountcy. His father had wanted to restore their ancestors' glory until the day he died, but Glaint yearned more for the mystical world.
Glaint had neither much ambition nor much political acumen. All he could think of was that Prince Edessak was highly regarded, and Princess Helena was his most beloved younger sister...
As soon as he entered his bedroom, Glaint lay down on the soft bed, much of his exhaustion instantly easing. Just then, the door suddenly creaked shut. He froze slightly and looked over.
A familiar man leaned against the door, a half-smile on his face. He wore a black cloak, had messy yellow hair and yellowish-brown eyebrows, and held a revolver. A cold smile glinted in his deep blue eyes.
"Well, well. We meet again, Mr. Viscount."
Glaint abruptly sat up and stammered, "M-Mr. Danitz, how did you..."
"Didn't expect it, did you? I'm back!"
Danitz spread his arms and laughed loudly.
"Uh, welcome."
"Hahahaha, you're an interesting fellow."
Danitz spun the revolver around his index finger, then swung out the cylinder and loaded the orange-yellow bullets one by one. Each crisp click felt like a heavy blow to Glaint's heart.
By the time he finished loading and snapped the cylinder shut, Viscount Glaint was drenched in sweat.
"I need every bit of information about that fellow."
His expression turned vicious.
"That bastard who took my favorite revolver and erased my memories!"
Chapter 77: He vanished
The following afternoon.
At the Church of Steam and Machinery in Backlund, Machinery Hivemind deacon Ikanser Bernard entered a dim room where several team members had been waiting for some time.
Soon, one member stepped forward, holding an antique-patterned silver mirror in both hands.