The baron's castle in White River Town.
Led by Captain Martin, Arwen entered a stone corridor.
Martin bowed slightly. "Master Witcher, I've made arrangements for your weapons and luggage. Once this is over, you can collect them from the quartermaster. Your horse is in the stables, with the finest fodder provided."
"Please be sure to observe proper etiquette when you meet the baron."
"I know."
Arwen recalled the etiquette lessons he had taken as a child.
He looked up. At the end of the corridor stood a pair of mahogany doors.
With a creak, they opened.
A man wearing red brocade and a feathered felt hat emerged first.
His face was powdered, his features delicate. He held his head high, his expression arrogant.
A man dressed as a butler followed close behind him.
"This month's ore delivery was a full half short. The marquess is most displeased."
"But in light of White River Domain's previous performance, the marquess has graciously granted you another fortnight."
"Let me stress this again: no more nonsense about elves or monsters. You should know full well the consequences of the marquess's anger if you delay his important undertaking."
"My lord viscount, White River Domain's ore will arrive at Brunan Castle in full in a fortnight."
"Good."
As he spoke, the man addressed as viscount reached Martin and Arwen, bringing a faint floral fragrance with him.
He glanced sidelong at the two, his voice laced with contempt and disgust. "Pah, country bumpkins."
He snorted and walked away without another word.
Martin lowered his head, his hands clenching slightly at his sides, not daring to show his displeasure.
In this world, class stood above everything. Even magic had to serve the nobility and royal power.
Arwen's expression remained unchanged as his right hand discreetly formed the Yrden Sign.
Purple magic swiftly flowed from his hand and coiled around the viscount's feet.
Smack!
One green boot sank, and he lost his balance outright.
"Ah!"
With a startled cry, the viscount fell flat on his face.
"Viscount Jennings!"
The butler cried out and hurried forward to help him up. Clutching his head, the viscount scrambled to his feet, his face flushed crimson.
Such an undignified display before servants was an utter disgrace for a noble.
"Bastard, which lowborn-"
Before he finished, his gaze settled on the black-robed man before him.
Arwen raised his head slightly, revealing just a sliver of a slit pupil beneath his hood.
An uncanny gleam flashed past. Then, bolstered by [Dual Souls], a mental assault surged forth like a tsunami, instantly overwhelming Viscount Jennings's psychological defenses.
[Axii Sign] mind control.
His expression grew vacant, his voice halting, without a trace of his earlier imperiousness.
"I... I tripped by accident... ow..."
"What are you standing around for... take me somewhere to rest..."
The butler hastily replied, "Yes... careful, my lord viscount..."
Watching the two leave, Martin swallowed.
From his years of experience as a soldier, this was certainly not how a noble reacted after making a fool of himself.
Was this witchcraft? Or magic?
"Captain, please lead the way."
Martin came back to himself, feeling even greater awe toward the black-robed witcher behind him.
Still, he was more than happy to see Viscount Jennings taken down a peg, and his tone grew considerably warmer.
"Please follow me, Master Witcher."
The two reached the mahogany double doors, and Martin pushed them open.
The space beyond slowly came into view.
The first thing that caught the eye was a large solid-wood table.
A round shield and a greatsword hung on the stone wall behind it.
Oh, and there was a mounted boar's head, its jutting tusks radiating ferocity.
Evidently, the Baron of White River was also a man who valued martial prowess.
Sure enough, Martin jogged over and took his place beside a man wearing pale blue armor.
The man was of average height and somewhat lean, with several scars across his face. One ran straight from the corner of his mouth to the back of his head, making his already unhandsome face all the more frightening.
Martin quickly finished his report. At the word "witcher," surprise appeared in the brown eyes of the man whose expression had been indifferent, followed by delight he could barely conceal.
He rose, his metal armor scraping softly, the river crest on his chest shimmering in the sunlight.
Martin stood at attention, cleared his throat, and announced:
"Before you stands the lord of White River Domain, Baron Leo Kramer."
"Master Witcher, please reveal your face and state your name."
Arwen removed his hood, revealing black hair and pale skin beneath sharply defined features.
He brought his right hand to his chest, stepped forward with his right foot, and bowed slightly.
"Raven, witcher, greets the Baron of White River."
The flawless etiquette improved the Baron of White River's impression of him considerably, but then his brows drew together slightly.
"Raven? I asked for your name, not your title."
"Never mind. I imagine you already know the situation in White River Domain. With this crisis upon us, I'll overlook your disrespect this once."
"Then shall I first thank you for your magnanimity, my lord baron?"
"Heh..." The Baron of White River caught the sarcasm in his tone.
"Indeed, you speak exactly as Monstrum describes. Most unpleasant."
"Still, I'm not an inflexible man. As long as you can solve the problem, I won't be stingy with the reward."
He braced both hands against the tabletop, a sharp gleam in his eyes.
"Judging by your medallion, you must be a witcher of the School of the Wolf. Another witcher of the School of the Wolf appeared at Glass Mountain a while ago. He even helped the marquess deal with a bruxa."
"According to the reports, his hair was white, while yours is black. Clearly, you aren't him."
"Besides, you look far too young. Are you even eighteen? Even with those monstrous cat eyes, I find it hard to trust your abilities."
Faced with the Baron of White River's aggressive words, Arwen did not avert his gaze.
"My lord baron, what the eye sees isn't necessarily the truth."
The Baron of White River narrowed his eyes, then the corner of his mouth lifted with interest.
"Good. Since you're confident, let's end the small talk and discuss the monster-hunting contract."
"I'm all ears."
The Baron of White River sat back down in his lord's chair, his voice weary.
"A month ago, a monster suddenly appeared in my domain. Every night, it brutally murdered my subjects-one on some nights, three on others. This has caused my domain a great deal of trouble."
"The people are panicking, the inns have closed, and merchants have stopped coming. Most importantly, there's the mining industry. If work there stops, everyone in the entire domain will go hungry."
"Has anyone seen the monster?"
The baron shook his head. "The monster only appears at night. I increased the night watch. Even I have been joining the patrols for the past fortnight."
"The monster is astonishingly fast. Whenever we reach the scene, there's nothing except a fleeting dark shadow as it flees. Oh, and blood all over the ground and the butchered bodies."
"Master Witcher Raven, if you find that monster and kill it, restoring peace to my domain, I can pay you five hundred ducats."
Five hundred ducats-nearly seventy-two crowns.
Arwen lowered his gaze slightly. The baron was stingy to the bone.
"We can discuss the bounty later. Let's talk about the details first. You mentioned bodies just now. Could I see them? The more recent, the better."
"Of course. The dungeon morgue received one just this morning."
"If I remember correctly, Martin, you were the one who brought it back?"
Martin nodded. "Yes, my lord baron."
"Good. Take this Master Raven down to the dungeon."
The baron raised his head, his voice hoarse. "Witcher, don't disappoint me."