Chapter 18: Northern Basilisks Eye

Within the Megla Empire, the rulership was set up in layers, kinda like a big pyramid. At the very top sat the Emperor or Empress, the big boss who ran the whole show.

Right below were six fancy Dukes and Duchesses. They were in charge of the main cities, making sure things ran smoothly there.

Then came twelve Marquises and Marchionesses. They oversaw the areas surrounding the big cities, kinda like a bigger piece of the pie.

Underneath them were twenty-four Counts and Countesses. They managed smaller bits within the Marquises' lands, keeping things going smooth and steady.

Next in line were twelve Barons and Baronesses. They looked after the important mining towns, making sure the riches kept rolling in.

Finally, there were thirty-six Viscounts and Viscountesses. They helped out the Counts or managed smaller places within the Marquises' territories.

Altogether, there were ninety-one noble houses that made up this whole system. Each played their part, making sure the Megla Empire kept ticking like a well-oiled machine.

And in the midst of all this...

"Hmm, Ferndale..." I murmured to myself as I removed the cloth ball from her mouth.

"Y-yeah, please now," she whimpered.

Leaning forward in my chair, I grabbed her jaw and pulled her a bit closer to me. "Around hundreds of nobles, and you had to bring him here—couldn't you have chosen a less problematic one?"

Ines's eyes welled up as she began to tremble, a small stream of blood trickling down her lips to her chin as she pleaded, "P-please, no more."

"You brought this upon yourself; you can't blame me for being harsh." I patched her hand with Mismre leaf and paste.

The heat from the knife made her spill some information.

This is messed up. I glanced at the map and pinpointed the place where this man had come from, Ferndale.

In the northern reaches of the Megla Empire, nestled amid rolling hills and verdant forests, lay the picturesque Barony of Ferndale. For centuries, this serene place had thrived under the watchful gaze of the Harrington family. Founded by the valiant Lord Alden Harrington, Ferndale emerged as a sanctuary amidst the tumultuous past of marauding tribes, gaining repute for its abundance of natural resources and strategic location.

Under the steady leadership of the Harrington lineage, Ferndale flourished, becoming a haven for artisans, traders, and vintners alike. Its fertile lands birthed the most exquisite vineyards, yielding wines that adorned the tables of nobles across the empire.

Bound by history, the Harringtons forged an unbreakable bond with House Verland, a prestigious noble house within the Empire. The alliance between House Harrington and House Verland not only ensured Ferndale's stability but also fortified the political influence of both families.

Through their unwavering loyalty and dedicated stewardship, the Harringtons entrenched themselves as pillars of their community, fostering education, prosperity, and a harmonious way of life for their people.

Thus, within the Megla Empire, Ferndale stood as a testament to the enduring resilience of the Harringtons.

The issue here is that the Verland's are one of the six Dukes, and the deceased man is the son of Alden Harrington. The guy looked remarkably young for someone who's over one hundred and fifty years old.

"Does it hurt?" I inquired.

She trembled. I felt a bit bad for doing this, but for some reason, she didn't tell me much or truthfully whenever I asked the question. At first, she'd try to round it up, but after some time, she began giving me outright answers, so I stopped my knife.

"Mismre leaf is quite expensive these days, y'know. A commoner won't be able to even think of buying a few for themselves. One dozen leaves cost about one gold coin, y'know," I applied the paste.

It had an immediate effect as the wounds began to heal before my naked eyes. The burns and torn skin started to connect.

I was in a state of confusion right now because it's certain that knights will be searching for him, and they are sure to come here without any doubt.

"....wait, I forgot-" I noticed her flinch a bit. "Calm down, don't treat me like I'm some kind of monster, girl. It's just that I had a long day today and I was tired. You just did a few things to trigger me, but other than that, everything is fine," I tried to calm her down.

She let out an audible gulp but said nothing.

"Anyways, why was the baron with your thief group?" I questioned.

[Third Person View.]

Silence enveloped the room, broken only by the faint echoes of the ticking clock on the mantel. Asher regarded Ines with a patient gaze, his hand gently lifting her chin to meet his eyes.

"Synthia Verland," she murmured, her voice barely audible amidst the quietude.

The mere mention of Synthia's name sent a ripple of unease through Asher. Synthia, the daughter of the current heir of House Verland—a name that held weight in political circles and noble hierarchies alike.

"What about her?" Asher's inquiry held a hint of urgency, his eyes probing Ines for more details.

"The baron was seeking a weapon for Verland's daughter," she explained, her voice tinged with apprehension.

The realization began to dawn upon Asher. Synthia's involvement in the Ocularium Cup, a prestigious event, indicated the need for top-notch armament, especially with the competition's escalating stakes.

"A weapon... Intresting," Asher rose from his chair, the room's ambiance heavy with anticipation. He reached for a glass of water nearby, offering it to Ines. "Drink, you seem thirsty. My apologies for not noticing sooner."

The room held a muted tension, the air thick with a blend of anxiety and anticipation. It had been several hours since Ines found herself bound within the confines of the room.

With a fervor that spoke of her parched throat, Ines clutched the glass, gulping down the water as if it were the elixir of life.

"Haa-" she gasped, her breaths coming in ragged bursts as Asher withdrew the glass.

"Now, Ines," Asher's voice carried a sense of urgency, "What weapon are we discussing here?"

"Northern Basilisk's Eye," she replied.

"Eh?" Asher couldn't believe his ears.