Chapter 82

Not long after, Edward entered the side keep of the main castle.

Inside, over a dozen soldiers were already rifling through boxes, searching for something. The floor was littered with debris, a clear sign of their hurried and frantic search.

Huck followed behind, approaching Edward. "The items we found are in the attic," he reported.

"Mm," Edward nodded, ascending the stairs. He pushed open the door to the attic and walked inside, heading straight to the laboratory within.

The laboratory was relatively tidy, untouched by the soldiers' chaos. A pile of old scrolls and several boxes filled with experimental tools sat in one corner of the room.

Edward approached the experimental tools first, flipping through the items before picking up a few scrolls. He began reading, his eyes falling upon the first scroll: "Based on Experiment No. 9, it is confirmed that the air composition in the current world is highly similar to that of modern Earth, with an oxygen content of..."

He quickly moved to another scroll: "According to Experiment No. 73, the atmospheric pressure and gravitational values show only minor differences. Considering the simplicity of the experiment, these variations can be ignored..."

Edward frowned, tossing the scroll aside, his mood souring. The incomprehensible content reminded him of the time when he lived with Richard over ten years ago. Richard had always written things that Edward couldn't understand, and it seemed things hadn't changed.

"What use are these things?" Edward shouted in frustration, turning to Huck. "Is this what you meant by a 'discovery'? A pile of junk! This wouldn't even warm the fire! What I want isn't this trash—what I want is him! My damn, wicked, evil brother—Richard Angrel!"

"I need to know where he is! I must find him, I must!" Edward's face twisted with fury as he yelled.

Huck remained silent.

Suddenly, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed as a soldier rushed up to the attic. "My lord, we've found someone... in the small house by the stables."

"Someone?" Edward's eyes flickered, a sudden suspicion rising in him. "Is he dead or alive?"

"Uh, it's... a drunk person," the soldier answered sheepishly.

"A drunk person?" Edward raised an eyebrow. "Could it be my brother? Is he so scared that he's drowning his sorrows in drink? Heh, if that's the case, maybe I can have a proper chat with him."

"No, actually, it's a fifty-year-old old man, dressed like a beggar, drunk and fast asleep," the soldier clarified.

"Hmm? How interesting," Edward's curiosity piqued. "Show me."

"Yes, my lord." The soldier nodded and led the way. Before long, they arrived at a small shed behind the main keep near the stables.

Inside, sure enough, there was a ragged old man snoring away, clutching an empty ale barrel, with saliva dripping from his mouth.

Edward frowned at the sight. Without hesitation, he ordered, "Wake him up. I have questions for him!"

"Yes, my lord." The soldiers complied and quickly fetched a bucket of cold water. Without any delay, they poured it over the drunken old man.

The icy water, in the middle of winter, was more painful than a knife. The moment it hit him, the old man let out a loud shriek like a pig being slaughtered, his eyes flying open as he sprang awake.

"Who? What happened?" the old man, Mark, struggled to stand, confused, looking around at the soldiers surrounding him. He then turned his gaze to Edward and muttered, "The farmers really rebelled, they've really broken into the castle..."

Edward scoffed and interrupted, "Farmers? Let me tell you, I am the first heir of Baron Leo Angrel—Edward Angrel! Over ten years ago, I left the castle to train under my uncle, Count William. Now, I've come back to avenge my father, who was murdered by my wicked brother—Richard Angrel! I've brought an army to crush him. Do you understand?"

"Uh, understood..." Mark muttered, his face showing disdain. "You? Take on Lord Richard? Ridiculous! You have no idea what you're doing. If it wasn't for Lord Richard ignoring you, I'd..."

Bang!

Edward kicked Mark hard in the chest, sending him crashing to the ground. His voice was cold as ice. "Shut up, old man! Now, I'm giving you a chance to answer my questions. If you answer well, I'll spare your life. If you don't, I'll have your skin peeled off and dried out to use as a seat cushion! Do you hear me?!"

"Y-yes, yes, I hear you!" Mark, terrified, immediately cowered under Edward's harsh glare, nodding rapidly.

Edward's expression softened slightly. He approached Mark, his voice still steely. "First question—how did you end up here? Where are the others?"

Mark hesitated, looking fearfully at Edward. After a moment, he began to speak, recounting the events that had unfolded. Soon, Edward learned everything he needed to know.

According to Mark, the castle had been normal up until last night. But early this morning, Richard had gathered everyone, then announced that they were disbanding.

When someone had asked, "What does disbanding mean?", Richard had simply answered, "Go back to where you came from. Take your pay and leave immediately. From now on, the Black Castle no longer exists, and there's no need for anyone here to stay."

"Why?" someone had asked.

Richard's response had been simple: "Because... it's a hassle, and I hate hassle."

After that, Richard had paid everyone and, with the little maid Lucy and the First Guard Tuku, left the castle.

The remaining people in the castle had been stunned at first, confused and unsure of what to do. But when they saw Richard truly leave without coming back and with no one managing them, they gradually began to leave in small groups. The number of people dwindled until only a few remained.

Mark had been the last to leave, his tired body dragging him away from the castle. Not far down the road, he had stopped to catch his breath, feeling the weight of his situation. As a craftsman, returning to his village meant no work, and no chance to make money or drink.

Then, it had hit him.

In the castle's wine cellar, there were plenty of barrels of ale! Since everyone else had left and Richard was no longer around to stop him, surely he could go back and enjoy a drink.

Many others had considered taking the valuables left behind, but remembering Richard's ruthlessness, they had been too scared to act.

Mark, however, didn't hesitate. If there was alcohol to be had, he was willing to risk it. So, he ran back to the castle, grabbed a barrel of ale from the cellar, and dragged it to his little shed, where he drank his fill.

As he drank, his body relaxed, and he felt as though he were soaking in a warm bath. But that "bath" didn't last long before cold water splashed over him, jolting him awake. The rest, as they say, was history.

After hearing Mark's tale, Edward's eyes gleamed with realization. He looked at the old man with a sly smile. "So, my brother must have run away, right? Interesting... he actually fears me and is fleeing. Haha!" Edward couldn't help but laugh, his expression gleaming with a new sense of vindication.

Mark scowled and muttered, "Lord Richard isn't afraid of you; he just doesn't want the hassle..."

Bang!

Before Mark could finish, Edward kicked him once again, sending him crashing to the ground.

Edward's face darkened as he narrowed his eyes at the old man. "Stop talking nonsense! Now, tell me—where did Richard leave from? I'm going after him to kill him, and he won't have to worry about any more 'hassles' in his life."

"Uh, this..."