"I-I-It's a lie, it must be a lie... M-M-My son can't die," Lord Harrison Turner's voice trembled with disbelief, struggling to accept the devastating news.
As one of the most influential merchants in the Windfall Kingdom, Lord Turner commanded power and connections both within and beyond the kingdom's borders. Compared to the grandeur of the kingdom's bustling cities, Pinebrook Village was merely a substantial hamlet. Yet, due to Lord Turner's authority, even the Monroe family, who governed the village, dared not cross him, fearing his formidable retribution.
Now, a stranger had arrived, informing the guards that his son had been slain, his lifeless body discarded alongside that of his servant on a desolate road. How could Lord Turner lend credence to such an absurdity?
His fury surged to a boiling point upon hearing of his son's demise, an oppressive atmosphere suffusing the room, making it difficult for the butler and guard to draw breath.
'This is the power of lord harrison...? Such overwhelming pressure, it's stifling...' The guard thought inwardly, his incredulous expression a testament to his inner turmoil.
Nevertheless, the guard had anticipated his Lord's explosive reaction upon learning of Young Lord Henry's fate. What father wouldn't react with vehement emotion upon hearing of his child's untimely passing?
'My Lord...' the butler's silent lament resonated within him, his gaze fixed on Lord Turner's anguished countenance.
Butler Geoffrey was well aware of the extent to which Lord Harrison cherished his son, showering him with indulgence in every conceivable manner. He keenly understood the emotions now swirling within his master.
Several minutes elapsed before Lord Harrison Turner managed to quell his overwhelming emotions. He began to entertain the possibility that the news might be fabricated, his faith in his own might within the village bolstering his skepticism.
'This surely can't be true. Who in their right mind would dare to take my son's life within these borders? There must be some grave misunderstanding...' Lord Turner's thoughts meandered, attempting to rationalize the tragic news that had shaken him.
'Yes, it must be a falsehood, an attempt to exploit my position. I won't succumb to this negativity, hahaha...' Lord Turner's internal monologue aimed to dispel the encroaching doubts, manifesting in a brief chuckle.
As he surveyed the guard before him, whose sweat-drenched countenance revealed his distress, and then turned to the equally perspiring butler Geoffrey, confusion seized him.
'Why this unusual behavior? Are they unwell? What could have induced such sweat?' Lord Turner's brows furrowed in puzzlement.
Suddenly, realization dawned upon him: his rage had unconsciously triggered his mana pressure in response to the dire news. Swiftly reining it in, he saw both the guard and butler release pent-up breaths, their relief palpable.
'Thank goodness the Lord retracted the pressure. I would have fainted from that intense mana pressure just now...' The Guard breathed a sigh of relief within.
'My Lord's strength keeps growing; at this pace, he might attain the sixth-circle mage level in a month or so. If the old Lord were still alive, he would have been overjoyed by this development.' Butler Geoffrey mused inwardly, a touch of pride swelling within him.
A minute later, Lord Harrison regarded the guard and inquired, "Tell me, Joe. Is the man who brought this news still present?"
"Absolutely, my Lord. I instructed Tim to keep him under watch and prevent his departure, assuming you'd wish to meet him," Joe, the guard, swiftly responded to Lord Harrison.
"Very well, you've acted prudently in detaining him. Bring him in; I wish to ascertain something from him," Lord Harrison commanded, expressing his satisfaction.
"Understood, My Lord. I shall fetch him immediately." Joe nodded and exited to fulfill his orders.
Several minutes later, the guard returned to the study, accompanied by the middle-aged man who had conveyed the distressing tidings of Young Master Henry and his servant Peter's demise. Anxiety marked the middle-aged man's visage as he stepped into the room, beholding Lord Harrison seated at a substantial table, emanating a palpable aura of danger.
"My Lord, this is the individual who informed me of Young Master's death," Joe introduced with a bow.
"Mmm, you may depart..."
"Of course, My Lord..." Joe acknowledged with a slight bow and promptly exited the room.
Once Joe had left, Lord Harrison fixed a cold gaze upon the middle-aged man, his demeanor far from friendly.
'Why is he staring at me like that? Does he plan to torture me for bringing this news?' The middle-aged man's thoughts raced with panic.
"M-My Lord, this humble individual is named Dylan. I am the bearer of the grievous news regarding Young Master Henry's untimely passing, as well as that of his loyal servant, Peter." Dylan, the middle-aged man, introduced himself in an anxious voice.
Upon hearing Dylan's words, which confirmed the loss of his beloved son, Lord Harrison's expression twisted in anger, yet he managed to retain an outward calm.
"So, you're the one alleging that my son is deceased. Is this true?" Lord Harrison inquired, his brow furrowing as he coldly regarded Dylan.
"Indeed! Upon my return from the eggplant fields, I came across the lifeless body of Young Master, his head severed, alongside his loyal servant, similarly decapitated." Dylan's statement seemed to perturb the old butler, who maintained his composure despite the disturbing revelation.
"I see..." Lord Harrison's eyes flashed with anger at the news, though he continued to believe that a misunderstanding had occurred, and his son was not truly gone.
Taking a deep breath, Lord Harrison addressed Dylan in a composed tone, "Are you absolutely certain it was my cherished son and his loyal servant? Or could you have mistaken someone else for my son?"
Externally, Lord Harrison maintained a fa?ade of calm, but internally, he fervently hoped that the news pertained to someone else, not his beloved child.
"There is no room for misunderstanding, my Lord. I personally recognized their faces before coming here to convey the grievous tidings. It was indeed the lifeless forms of Young Master Henry and his faithful servant, Peter. I swear by my life, My Lord, that I speak the truth. Fabricating such news would only imperil my own existence," Dylan uttered, his face marked by fear and drenched in sweat.
Clang! Crush!!
The abrupt sound of something hitting the floor and shattering reverberated through the room, prompting everyone's gaze to fixate upon the door.
As their attention shifted, they beheld a stunning woman, her expression a mask of horror, eyes wide as though she had just witnessed a specter for the first time.
"W-Wh-what d-did he say... M-M-My son is... D-Dead?" Her voice quivered as she muttered in disbelief.
The vibrancy faded from her once-beautiful countenance, leaving behind a desolate emptiness that mirrored the news of her cherished son's demise.
This woman was none other than Henry's mother and Lord Harrison's wife, Haley Turner. Prior to her marriage to Harrison, she bore the name Haley Murphy, a daughter of low-ranking nobility from a neighboring kingdom. Upon her union with Harrison, she adopted the Turner surname.
"Dear Haley? Why are you here...?" Lord Harrison promptly rose from his seat and approached his wife, reaching out to hold her hand in an attempt to console her.
"Release me and speak the truth... Did he truly utter that our precious son is... dead?!" Haley withdrew from his touch, her voice anguished as she demanded the truth.
Observing the anguish etched across his wife's face, Lord Harrison empathized with her turmoil, for he bore the same agony.
'How can I address this? How can I tell my wife that Dylan arrived to inform us of our son's demise?' Lord Harrison's heart ached, overwhelmed by sorrow.
'I must confess to her. We must confirm whether it is indeed our son's lifeless form. I cannot take a stranger's word as fact. Concealing this truth would only worsen matters, should it prove to be accurate.' Resolute, Lord Harrison steeled himself to share the sorrowful news with his wife.
"Yes, my dear. Dylan came to us with news that he discovered two bodies on the road, resembling our son Henry and his loyal servant Peter..." Lord Harrison spoke with a grave tone, clenching his fists in frustration.
"What?!" Haley's eyes widened, disbelief etched on her features. What had they just heard? A corpse resembling their beloved son?
"D-D-Does this mean our son is... d-dead?" Her legs buckled beneath her, collapsing onto her knees, as if the very breath had been knocked from her.
"Haley! Please, compose yourself! It has yet to be verified. There's a possibility of a misunderstanding. Let's not jump to conclusions. Try to calm down, my love!" Lord Harrison urged, his voice soothing, as he attempted to offer solace.
He continued, "With my influence and authority, who would dare to harm our cherished son within the confines of this village? Even the Monroe family wouldn't dare such an act. There's a high probability that it's not our son's body. Have faith, dear. Our son is strong, after all, and I refuse to believe he could be taken from us in such a manner."
'I hope that the Young Lord is alright, or I can't imagine how the Lord and Madam will react...' The butler's internal musings were filled with concern as he observed the distress etched onto Haley and Harrison's faces.
"Yes... My son can't die! He's strong, much stronger than these commoners... I refuse to believe he could be taken by some nobody!" Haley's conviction rang out, her head nodding in agreement as she sought solace from her husband.
"Indeed! We've invested considerable resources in nurturing his strength at such an early age. It's inconceivable that he would fall to the hands of a mere commoner," Lord Harrison concurred, his determination unwavering.
A minute later, he turned to his loyal butler Geoffrey, instructing, "Old man, gather a group to retrieve the bodies promptly for identification..."
"Of course, My Lord. With your permission, I shall make arrangements for the bodies to be brought to the manor," the butler replied, deference lacing his tone.
"Mr. Dylan, kindly accompany our people to the site where you encountered the bodies. Afterward, you may return home," the butler directed Dylan, outlining the task ahead.
"Naturally." Dylan's affirmation was swift as he nodded in agreement.
"Very well, please follow me..." With those words, the butler took his leave, exiting the room and leaving Lord Harrison and Haley in solitude. Dylan followed the butler, departing from the scene.
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