Year 3500 of the Descended Gods Calendar, autumn.
Southwest of the Haide Empire.
A carriage was traveling along a broad road, and from the direction it had come, it seemed to be heading away from the Royal Capital.
The coachman lightly flicked his whip, tapping it rhythmically against the horse’s rump, keeping its attention from wandering to the wild grass by the roadside that had yet to wither, urging it forward.
“Master, you really shouldn’t have been so reckless at the banquet yesterday.”
Inside the carriage, on the soft seats lining either side, an elderly man with graying hair but still dressed impeccably and exuding a scholarly air wore a worried expression as he looked at the man playing with a child before him.
The man’s features were strikingly handsome—by appearance alone, he was the sort of refined gentleman who could keep countless young women awake at night.
He looked to be about thirty, with smooth golden hair tied into a low ponytail.
At the old man’s complaint, he first looked puzzled, then asked,
“Which one are you talking about? The Duke, or that Crown Prince?”
“……”
The old man was at a loss for words at the man’s question—didn’t he know exactly what he’d done? How could he even ask?
Clearly, the man understood the old man’s exasperation, but as the topic came up, the indulgent smile he’d worn while playing with his daughter disappeared, replaced by a look of disgust.
“Letuwa, I know what you want to say, but they were the ones at fault first. Besides, I didn’t really do anything, just complained a little.”
“But Master, those are His Highness the Crown Prince and the Duke. Showing disrespect to the two of them… your future career…”
The old man wanted to continue, but to go any further would be to overstep his bounds, so after a moment’s thought, he held his tongue.
Yet the man paid no mind to Letuwa’s worries at all; he simply waved his hand, his face full of indifference.
“So what if I have no future career? It’s not like they can strip me of my barony, right? At worst, I’ll just have no hope of promotion from now on.
I never wanted to climb the ranks anyway—scheming day in and day out would just wear me out.
If it weren’t for you, Letuwa, helping me out, I couldn’t even manage the thousand-plus residents of my territory, let alone handle government affairs.
If I really became a viscount or higher, wouldn’t I have no time left for my wife and daughter?”
He lowered his head to look at his daughter, a doting smile appearing on his lips.
“My little Bella, do you want Daddy to be so busy he can’t be with you?”
In his arms was a girl of about ten, exquisitely cute and dressed in lavish clothes.
Upon hearing her father’s question, the girl—Bella—immediately threw her arms around him, shaking her little head like a rattle-drum.
“No way! Bella loves Father the most! Father has to always stay with Bella!”
“Of course, Daddy will never leave Bella.”
Held tightly by his daughter, the man instantly transformed into the quintessential doting father, his face practically broadcasting “My daughter is the cutest in the world.”
But it seemed he remembered something unpleasant, for where his daughter couldn’t see, his expression turned angry.
“That idiot pig actually dared to flirt with my Bella.
If he weren’t the Crown Prince, I’d have smashed that pig’s head in long ago! To think someone like him will be the future ruler—if he ascends the throne, the Empire is finished.”
“Master, please watch your words!”
The man’s blasphemous remarks sent the old man into a panic, and he hurriedly gestured for him to stop.
“You’re too nervous, Letuwa. Relax, there’s not a soul around for miles, and we’re inside the carriage—no one can hear us.”
“But what if there’s a Magical Tool for eavesdropping…” The old man was still worried, but the man raised a hand to cut him off.
“I’m just a small border baron with a territory of no strategic value. Those people in the Royal Capital wouldn’t waste a precious Magical Tool on me.”
Having said this, the man looked somewhat gloomy, turning to gaze out the window with a sigh.
“If only His Highness the First Prince were still around… If he could have inherited the throne, this country might have become strong again, instead of being so hopeless as it is now…”
Letuwa looked at the man’s expression and shook his head helplessly, but he wasn’t about to give up on persuasion, deciding instead to change the subject.
“Master, let’s not talk about the Crown Prince for now. Let’s discuss the Duke. Your attitude towards the Duke is far too cold. No matter what, he is Madam’s father—your father-in-law.”
Faced with Letuwa’s words of obvious reproach, this time the man didn’t get angry.
He just hugged his daughter a little tighter, looking somewhat dejected.
“It’s not like I want to be rude to the Duke. But every time I think about what Morgana suffered at his hands, I just don’t know how I’m supposed to face my father-in-law.
Besides, ever since Morgana married me, the Duchess’ Family cut ties with her. It’s not just me—even our daughter Bella, the Duke has never once looked at her properly…”
Letuwa understood the man’s grievances. Though this man always seemed upright and strong to outsiders, Letuwa had watched him grow up and knew the unwillingness and softness in his heart.
“But Master, blood ties can’t be severed. Even if the Duke has gone too far in some matters, he is still Madam’s father, Bella’s grandfather. That can’t be changed. I believe the Duke still misses Madam. Otherwise, why would he have taken the initiative to speak with you at the banquet? He just can’t let go of his pride for the moment, so his attitude was harsh.”
“Maybe you’re right…”
The man nodded, forcing a smile, which nevertheless brought Letuwa a bit of comfort.
At this moment, the little girl named Bella also lifted her head, her big eyes looking up at her father. Sensing her father’s sadness, she hugged him even more gently.
“Father, I’m sure Grandfather will accept us one day. Whether it’s you, Mother, or me—he definitely will.”
“Bella… sob!”
Looking at his daughter’s gentle expression, the man’s eyes instantly welled up with tears, and he hugged her tightly, moved.
“Bella, my Bella, you really are Daddy’s angel! Waaa…”
But little did he know, Bella was wearing a sly little smile—probably already thinking about what she could get her father to buy her once they returned home.
Letuwa watched this touching father-daughter scene, unsure what to say. The Master spoiled Miss Bella far too much.
If this went on, she’d be completely spoiled, but he couldn’t say such things, so he could only keep silent.
But just then, the carriage, which had been moving steadily, suddenly came to a stop.
“What’s going on?” As an experienced butler and advisor, Letuwa instantly became alert. This was a remote area, after all. If a bandit or highwayman blocked the road, it wouldn’t be surprising. One had to stay cautious at all times.
“Master, Lord Letuwa, there’s someone collapsed on the road ahead.”
The coachman’s voice came through. Letuwa breathed a sigh of relief at the words, but didn’t lower his guard. Who knew if this was a trick by bandits, or if the person was a corpse left behind by robbers? Either way, it was dangerous.
“Master, shall I go and take a look?”
Letuwa asked the man before him, only for him to reply,
“I’ll go with you.”
“That’s too dangerous. You’d be safer staying in the carriage.”
Letuwa rejected the suggestion, but the man only smiled unconcernedly.
“I was once a squad leader of the Royal Capital’s knights. If I can’t even handle a little thing like this and have to let an old man like you take the risk alone, that’s not my style.”
With that, he’d already opened the carriage door. After telling Bella to stay put, he stepped out first.
Knowing his master’s temperament, Letuwa had no choice but to follow him outside.
There, they saw that someone really was lying in the road ahead of the carriage.
The two approached and found a woman dressed as a mage, her wide-brimmed witch’s hat having rolled several meters away into the grass.
She had long, pale gray hair, and her body, rising and falling slightly with breath, showed she was still alive.
Even in her unconscious state, she clutched a wooden staff taller than herself tightly in her hands.
Judging by her figure, she seemed to be a girl of sixteen or seventeen.
Her clothes were neat and unmarked by wounds; she didn’t look like she’d been attacked. So why was she lying here?
But when the two saw the girl’s face, they were both stunned.