Chapter 56: 56: A loyal servant
The manor of House Crete was never this silent. The entire compound seemed scanty, with only a few personnels here and there tending to the environment.
Inside the fortified walls of Crete Manor, a huge gathering filled the grand hall. Towering ceilings, ornate plaster ceiling roses, and a monumental fireplace dominated the space, while servants and guards stood rigidly side by side along the walls, each bearing the emblem of a round shield upon their livery. At the center of the receiving line, the manor lord stood tall and imperious, with Harley positioned quietly but confidently at his right side. Together they prepared to welcome the wardens from the Sanctuary as the heavy doors creaked open.
The manor lord of the house of Crete, despite the family being known for having strong fighters, was quite chubby. His eyes shone with a deep greed as he watched the wardens come forth.
Instantly the maids and guards wielding spears bent their heads ninety degrees, including Harley. Today was a very important day for the lord of the manor.
"Welcome, wardens from the sanctuary." The manor lord walked forward to welcome them personally.
Harley studied each of them with a nonchalant expression.
There were four people wearing black cloaks. Each of them had the same symbol he had been seeing for months in the sanctuary he lived in before.
One of them, the man that stood ahead of the three, had a mask of a peculiar creature’s face. Now that Harley looked at it well, it seemed like a chubby wolf with long fangs.
Beside him strode the second warden who had a sword hilt poking out of his cape. The mask he wore had eye slits that were long, narrow, and slanted backward like knife cuts sweeping toward the temples. The bridge of the nose extended into a long, straight, beak-like ridge that ended in a sharp point. The exposed part of his face had sharp features, but the man had an unsettling air around him.
From the sides of the eyes, hard angular plates flared back dramatically, creating swept lines that looked like wind streaks or trail marks. Fine etched grooves radiated outward from the eye area across the bronze. The bronze had a dull, aged sheen with patina, while the leather was deeply tooled with directional patterns. It sat close and tight to the face, giving him a focused, predatory stare that made it seem like he was looking at targets.
The third warden was a female who had a huge rectangular box strapped behind her back. Her figure was what gave away her gender. The mask she wore was white with colourful carvings of feathers on it.
The last one had a sword also strapped around his waist. His mask wasn’t typical like the others he had seen. This one seemed like dozens of mirror shards pieced together to form a fitting helmet.
’They have masks?’ Harley couldn’t help but smile seeing this.
It was exactly just like he had predicted and planned. Now only one thing was left.
"And for the last member of the expedition." The manor lord smiled, turning around and pointing his finger at Harley.
’As expected.’ Harley smiled, bowing for the patriarch of House Crete.
"What? That kid has only been here for a month."
"Why would the house owner entrust this to that rookie?"
"That kid is not good."
The man in front of the three wardens with the mask of a carnivorous creature chuckled slightly.
"It seems your servants are envious." The man spoke, and the house owner only waved off the statement.
"Follow me, let’s plan this expedition." The house owner guided the wardens out of the hall, and soon, everyone dispersed.
Harley returned to the compound of the manor, looking around. There were beautiful ornaments all around the place, with statues of horses all over.
’Who could have thought that I would even sleep in a noble house one day.’ Harley smiled, walking past one of the many fountains in the compound.
The house of Crete.
One of the noble houses in the capital of Argenta that specialized in trade. After Harley left the warden’s sanctuary a month ago, he didn’t wander aimlessly. He still wanted answers, a lot of them.
The manor of the Crete family wasn’t even like the normal buildings he saw in the capital. The pipes transferring gases were completely inbuilt and all of the lamps received power.
Walking around in the manor, he could feel many jealous eyes around him, but he didn’t mind them at all and walked faster towards the servants’ dorm.
Harley found himself in a small room with only a singular window. On a small desk close to the window was a couple of books with ripped pages on them.
Harley picked up one seemingly unsuspecting book and hid it inside his clothes.
’If I’m really in the world of that novel, this would prove everything. The historical site where the first wonder battled a calamity. If what I’m looking for is there, then I’ll need backup.’ He smiled, staring at the sky above.
...
The next day the house owner Gregory Crete himself was already preparing to move to the historical site.
Now what exactly were they looking for there?
The house of Crete was not one of the big three families around Elaria. In Argenta here, the Crete family answered directly under the duke who decided the financial order of the nation.
But Gregory wanted more.
Inside of the carriage, Harley sat opposite the house master himself. And another carriage beside them carried the four wardens.
’Can’t believe he has beacons and even one recent to accompany us on this expedition.’ He sighed, looking outside.
Then, the man across from him was smiling like a maniac, looking directly at Harley.
"Ah, master." Harley lowered his head in respect.
"It’s okay. I just want to give you something." The slightly obese man pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Harley.
With a raised brow, Harley opened it and there he was shocked to see a revolver inside the cover.
’This is unlike him.’ Harley frowned.
The Gregory Crete he was familiar with in the novel was a selfish man only obsessed with becoming a great family and his wealth.
To properly explain everything that happened here, Harley would have to go a bit back to when he entered the manor.
...
One month ago;
After leaving the Warden’s sanctuary, Harley immediately headed to the house of Crete. He stood in front of the massive gates, held together by a round gold disk with the symbol of a horse.
"Are you here for work too?" One of the men in front of the gate asked with a bored expression on his face and Harley nodded with a soft smile.
"You’re a gardener rank right? You’re alright to go straight towards the house, you’ll need the elderly maid—she’ll show you the ways around the manor." The man walked away, letting the gates open slightly for Harley and he was dumbfounded.
’Are they in need of workers?’ He wondered, seeing how they easily allowed him to enter into the compound.
That was how he started working for the house of Crete.
After more than three weeks into the service, he decided that it was time to put his plan into action.
Inside the same solitary small room, on the table, Harley had spread out the image of some kind of crystal inside the book along with several other scribbled notes.
Harley had spent the entire night carefully preparing the bait.
He took a fresh sheet of aged parchment, dipped a quill, and began writing in elegant, slightly archaic script—exactly the kind Gregory Crete would expect from an "ancient record."
When he was done, he let the ink dry, then deliberately crumpled and stained the edges to make it look centuries old. The paper now read:
’The Stone of Rebirth’, along with its details and where it was.
’This item should catch that man’s eye.’
Harley smiled coldly as he slipped the forged document between two genuine crumbling ledgers from the manor’s old archives.
The next evening, while helping the head steward organize decades of dusty records in the eastern archive tower, Harley made sure he was the one carrying the heaviest stack of documents to Gregory’s private study.
As they sorted through the piles together, Harley "accidentally" let the forged paper slide out and flutter to the floor right in front of the manor lord.
Gregory Crete’s greedy eyes locked onto the yellowed sheet instantly.
"What’s this?" he muttered, snatching it up before Harley could even pretend to reach for it.
Harley watched silently as the chubby man’s face went through several expressions—surprise, disbelief, then raw, naked hunger.
"The Stone of Rebirth..." Gregory whispered, his voice trembling with excitement. "If this is true... one stone could carry the entire Crete family to the level of the Duke houses in a single generation."
He looked up sharply at Harley, eyes shining.
"You found this?"
Harley bowed humbly. "It was mixed in with the old trade ledgers, my lord. I thought it was just another forgotten tale until I read it."
Gregory clutched the paper to his chest like a holy relic. The greed in his eyes was so intense it was almost pathetic.
From that moment, Gregory was hooked.
He spent the following days obsessively questioning Harley about every detail, demanding to know everything there was in the remaining ledgers, what dangers might await, and—most importantly—whether anyone else knew about it.
Harley answered every question with calculated loyalty, feeding Gregory’s ambition while never appearing too eager.
Then, on the final night before they were to depart, Harley decided to seal the trap.
He found Gregory alone in his study, wine glass in hand, staring at the forged document under lamplight.
"My lord," Harley said quietly, closing the door behind him. "There is something I must confess."
Gregory raised an eyebrow. "Speak."
Harley stepped closer, voice low and sincere.
"When I first discovered the record... I had a choice. I could have taken this information to House Drake or even the Duke himself. They would have offered me a fortune—lands, titles, perhaps even a minor noble seat—for delivering such a treasure into their hands."
He paused, letting the words sink in.
"Yet I chose to bring it to you instead. Because in the short time I have served House Crete, I have seen your vision. I believe in your ambition. My loyalty... belongs to you alone." Harley bowed slightly.
’This seems familiar.’ Harley felt a sense of déjà vu, remembering that he did something similar in his first trial when he faced the mad pirate.
Gregory stared at him for a long moment, the greed in his eyes slowly mixing with something dangerously close to genuine trust.
He set the wine glass down and placed a heavy hand on Harley’s shoulder.
"You are a rare one, boy," he said, voice thick with emotion. "Most men would have sold me out for a bigger purse. But you... you chose loyalty."
Gregory’s smile widened, manic and satisfied.
"Very well. When we claim the Stone of Rebirth, you will stand at my right hand as we drag House Crete into the ranks of the true powers of Elaria. I swear it."
Harley bowed deeply, hiding the cold, triumphant smile that curved his lips.
’Perfect.’
He had Gregory Crete exactly where he wanted him—completely convinced of Harley’s unwavering loyalty.
Now, back in the present, inside the swaying carriage heading toward the historical site...
Gregory Crete was still grinning like a madman across from Harley, the revolver he had just gifted him resting heavily in Harley’s lap.
"You’ve proven yourself more than a mere servant, Harley," Gregory said, eyes gleaming with greed and newfound affection. "When we return with the stone, everything changes."
Harley met his gaze with perfect deference, fingers tightening around the hidden grip of the revolver.
"Yes, my lord," he answered softly.
’You’re right, everything will change. But not for you.’ Harley smirked.
