The Mad Dog of the Duke's Estate

Chapter 75

Night had already fallen outside; it was twelve hours after Caron's entourage left Reben.

Thanks to the carriage's relentless pace, they had finally reached the vicinity of the Tirisfal Forest, the planned stopover. The carriage gradually slowed until it came to a complete halt. A moment later, there was a knock at the door.

"Young Master Caron, the horses are exhausted. We'll rest here for a while. Is that alright with you?" Owen called through the door.

Caron slowly opened his eyes. Neria, who had been sleeping comfortably beside him, also woke up.

Caron yawned and leaned out the window, then asked, "So, we're camping here for the night?"

"If you prefer, we can ride for another hour and reach an inn in the village of Luka, just next to Tirisfal Forest," Owen suggested.

"Inn or camp, it's all the same. I'll just consider camping part of the journey," Caron said.

"Alright, then we'll set up the tents. Please take your time coming out," Owen replied.

He then hurried to the back of the carriage and ordered, "Prepare to camp! Search the area and secure it for safety!"

"Yes, Sir!" someone answered.

"Yes!" another person replied.

As Caron listened to the men respond, he turned his gaze toward Neria. He asked, "Did you sleep well? I imagine it wasn't easy with the carriage shaking so much."

"Yes, it was surprisingly comfortable, thanks to you," Neria answered.

"You seem better than before," Caron said.

Neria's complexion had improved. The pale, almost ghostly look she'd had before was now replaced by a faint blush, and her chapped lips that had been irritated from the gag were noticeably healed.

Elves are beautiful, Caron thought to himself, finding himself nodding without realizing it. Neria had recovered quickly, likely due to the potion he had given her. With the color returning to her cheeks, her beauty was even more striking.

"Um... If you stare at me like that, it's a little..." Neria began.

"Oh, sorry. I was just checking to see if there were any areas that hadn't healed. How do you feel? Can you move around alright?" Caron asked.

Neria nodded and flexed her hands into fists, testing her strength, then said, "My mana is still unstable, but I think I can summon a lower-level spirit."

"As much as I'd love to send you on your way immediately, you know that's not possible right now. It'd be too dangerous in your current condition," Caron said.

"Yes, I understand," Neria replied softly.

"By the way, do you know Foina?" Caron asked.

Neria slowly shook her head in response to Caron's question, then answered, "I've never met her. I've only heard stories about a great mage in the empire who protects our kind."

Caron recalled how Foina had infiltrated the empire to rescue elves who were being sold in the black market of Thebe. It was a story she had shared with him over drinks once.

"Well, just keep in mind that you can discuss returning to the Great Forest with Foina," Caron explained.

As he spoke, he smoothly pulled a small orb from his pocket, just the right size to fit in his palm. It was the communication orb that had been set up to connect with Foina. A spell was embedded in the orb, allowing it to transmit coordinates if needed.

Whoosh.

As Caron infused the orb with mana, it vibrated slightly.

"Our location has been sent," he said steadily. Foina's reinforcements would receive the signal and arrive accordingly. This place was far from Reben, so even if she intervened directly, it wouldn't cause much trouble.

Before stepping out of the carriage, Caron turned to Neria and gave her a subtle warning. "If things get dangerous later, just hide in the carriage. I don't think it'll be too dangerous, but better safe than sorry."

Neria asked softly, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"None at all. Just staying put will be the best help you can give," Caron replied.

Neria quickly understood what he meant. In her weakened state, trying to assist him would only slow him down. She already knew what kind of chaos Caron was about to unleash, so becoming a burden was the last thing she wanted.

She nodded silently, and Caron, seeing her compliance, smiled at her and said, "I'll make sure you get your revenge, so don't worry. Alright, let's head out."

He gave Neria's shoulder a light pat and stepped out of the carriage. The night had fully settled in, and darkness enshrouded the surroundings. The crescent moon above struggled to cast enough light to push back the shadows of the forest.

"This way, Young Master Caron," Owen called from a distance, approaching after setting up the camp. He glanced between Caron and Neria before flashing a nasty grin, saying, "Looks like you had a good time in the carriage. You seem to be in quite a good mood."

Caron ignored Owen's comment and scanned the area. The other knights were nowhere to be seen, so Caron asked, "Where are the others?"

"They're scouting the perimeter for any potential monsters or dangers," Owen explained. "Come, this way. We've set up everything for a comfortable night's rest."

He led Caron to a spot by the fire, where an expensive-looking tent had already been set up. Owen explained, "This tent is enchanted with shape-memory magic. Marquis Leandro uses it during his campaigns, but he's generously lent it to you, Young Master Caron."

The tent was surprisingly large and luxurious for something that had been set up so quickly. Inside, there were two beds and several light sources. After surveying the surroundings, Caron nodded approvingly and made his way toward the fire.

"A journey isn't complete without some time to just sit and relax in front of the campfire," he remarked as he moved in closer.

"Absolutely, Young Master. I've prepared chairs as well," Owen responded as he gestured to a pair of high-quality chairs near the fire.

Caron slowly walked over and sat down, turning to Neria before saying, "You should head inside the tent."

Neria nodded without a word and obediently entered the tent.

Owen watched her every move with a gleam in his eyes, chuckling as he sat down next to Caron. He remarked, "Unbelievable. Who'd have thought that stubborn girl would follow orders so easily? Do you really not have any secret tricks, huh? She was such a handful, we had to knock her out just to bring her to Reben."

Owen tossed another log into the fire, laughing at his own words. Caron stared at the flames for a moment before exhaling lightly, then said, "One of the joys of traveling is sipping some good liquor by the campfire."

"I thought you might say that, so I came prepared." Owen reached into a nearby bag and pulled out a bottle. "This is a bottle of whiskey that's only made in Reben."

"Good work. No wonder Marquis Leandro favors you so much," Caron said.

Owen grinned as he poured whiskey into a glass for Caron. He said, "I'll be serving you from now on, Young Master Caron. If you need anything in Reben, just let me know. Marquis Leandro is a busy man, but I'll take care of you personally."

As Caron accepted the glass for the liquor and had it filled by Owen, he thought to himself that Owen seemed more of a merchant than a knight.

"You should join me for a drink," Caron suggested. "Or is it too much to ask while you're on duty?"

"Not at all. We're well within the empire's borders, and there's no real danger here. I'd be happy to," Owen replied.

"Alright," Caron said, then poured the whiskey into Owen's glass.

"Thank you," Owen said before taking a deep swig.

Caron watched him closely, then asked calmly, "When will the other knights return?"

"At least another hour from now. I've ordered them to conduct a thorough search of the area," Owen replied.

Caron poured more whiskey into Owen's glass, then said in a low tone, "That's perfect."

"What's perfect?" Owen asked.

"We have the whole bottle to ourselves, don't we? I'm the kind of person who finishes a bottle once it's opened," Caron said.

"Ah, I see! That's the spirit," Owen said, lifting his glass. "I'll drink to that."

"Drink comfortably," Caron said.

"Thank you, Young Master Caron!" Owen exclaimed.

Hmm... An hour, Caron thought to himself. He thought that was more than enough time to slit Owen's throat. But he couldn't draw his sword just yet.

Owen had reached the brink of 6-Star. If Caron couldn't take him down in one strike, the fight could drag on longer than expected. The best time to act would be when Owen's guard was completely down.

Caron just had to wait a little longer, playing along with the man's rhythm until that perfect moment came. So, he patiently waited in silence, watching the fire as it flickered in the darkness.

***

Caron and Owen had already been drinking for thirty minutes. However, the liquor had little effect on their bodies. No matter how much they drank, the knights' mana prevented them from becoming fully intoxicated. Perhaps that was why, despite the rapid pace at which both of them had been drinking, neither of them showed any signs of being drunk.

There was, however, one thing that stood out.

"Hunting non-humans is far more thrilling than hunting animals. Especially when the targets are something tougher, like beastkin or elves... It's the kind of thrill you only get on the battlefield," Owen said.

Owen's wariness toward Caron had significantly diminished.

"It keeps us in shape, giving us real combat experience, and all in all, it's quite the workout. It's also a nice way to line our pockets, though I imagine the money side doesn't interest you much, Young Master Caron," he added with a chuckle.

"Hunting slaves for fun, huh? Quite the nasty hobby," Caron remarked, his tone even. "Can't bring yourself to hunt your own kind?"

"It's not that," Owen replied, grinning slyly. "Humans just aren't profitable, you see? Well, unless we're talking about pretty women, hehe."

Even in that brief moment, Caron got a clear sense of just how low Owen would stoop. He was the type of man who wouldn't hesitate to swing a sword at the weak, someone willing to do anything for the right price. It was obvious he wasn't worthy of the title of knight.

"Among non-humans, elves are the trickiest to hunt. They usually move in groups of three or more, are skilled in stealth, and their archery is no joke. Plus, dealing with their spirits can be quite the headache," Owen explained.

"So, it's not your first time hunting elves, then?" Caron asked.

"I've done it about four times now. As you know, it's rare for elves to leave their forest," Owen said.

From there, Owen continued rambling on for quite some time, thoroughly enjoying himself. He went into detail about the elves' weaknesses, how to neutralize them most effectively, and all sorts of other things Caron hadn't even asked about. Caron listened to it all with one ear and let it go out the other. None of it was worth keeping in his head. It was all just disgusting chatter.

After humoring Owen for a while, Caron glanced at the sword hanging from Owen's waist and gestured toward it with a tilt of his chin. He remarked, "That sword looks nice."

"You have a keen eye, Young Master Caron," Owen said, clearly pleased. "This sword was crafted by a famous master in the capital. Marquis Leandro personally gifted it to me."

"Let me take a look," Caron asked.

"Of course. I'll show you," Owen replied.

Shing.

Owen smoothly drew the sword from its scabbard. The blade was immaculate, reflecting the light of the campfire with a pristine gleam.

Caron gazed at the blade and asked quietly, "So, you used this sword for all those hunts?"

Owen nodded proudly and said, "Yes, I've been using it for five years."

"Five years, and yet the blade's still spotless. There's not a single scratch," Caron observed. n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

"Well, when your mana control reaches a certain level, it's rare for your blade to sustain any damage, isn't it? And this is a gift from Marquis Leandro. I wouldn't dare use it carelessly and show up before him with it ruined," Owen said.

Owen wasn't wrong; a knight who could reinforce their sword with mana would rarely damage it. At least, that was true as long as their opponent's mana was weaker than their own. If the opponent's mana was purer and stronger, the blade would inevitably be damaged.

"So, you haven't faced anyone stronger than you in those five years?" Caron asked, his voice calm but cutting.

The blade was proof that Owen had only fought weaker opponents all this time.

Owen frowned slightly, his displeasure clear as he replied, "...That's a bit uncomfortable to hear, Young Master Caron."

"Oh, I didn't mean anything by it. It's just been a while since I've seen such a clean sword," Caron said with a smirk, his words a blatant provocation.

Irritated, Owen glanced at Caron's sheathed weapon and asked, "Are you saying your sword is different?"

"Of course. Want to see it for yourself?" Caron replied.

"If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to see just how strong the opponents you've faced are, Young Master Caron."

Caron chuckled softly as he looked at Owen before saying, "It won't wear out from showing you. Alright, I'll let you see it."

With that, Caron slowly stood up and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, Guillotine.

"Watch carefully," he advised.

"I'll be sure to—" Owen began.

Swish!

In an instant, something sliced through the air like a gust of wind. Owen suddenly felt an itch near his neck. His gaze shifted to Caron's sword, which was now drawn. A dark blue blade gleamed faintly in the firelight.

Owen wondered if it was the reflection of the flames, or if it was something on the blade. It almost looked as if there was something red on the sword's surface. But he didn't have time to process it.

Thud.

Owen's head dropped to the ground, severed in one swift motion. His body, now headless, collapsed shortly after.

"I told you to watch carefully, you idiot. What a waste of 6-Star mana," Caron muttered, spitting on Owen's lifeless body. He casually flicked the blood off Guillotine, the sword resonating more fiercely than ever after tasting a knight's blood.

Whoosh.

"Guillotine. You can track them, right?" Caron asked.

"Of course. But I still need more blood. You should've cut off a few more heads."

"I'll feed you your fill soon enough. Just focus on tracking," Caron said.

"Hey, Owner, this side of you really suits you. How did you hold back for so long?"

"Shut up, you cursed sword," Caron ordered.

With a firm grip on Guillotine, Caron strode toward the forest. The faint moonlight barely illuminated the dense trees ahead, casting long, shifting shadows.

"What a nice night," Caron muttered to himself. It was a perfect night for hunting animals.

And so, the hunt began.