Chapter 51: Return
"Where next, My Lord?" Selene asked as the three of them climbed into the carriage.
"Stephanie needs to purchase a few things for the mansion," Raven replied, settling into his seat.
The carriage rattled through the bustling market streets. They stopped at multiple shops, purchasing clocks, gold-framed mirrors, ornate candelabras, a polished grand piano, and more household essentials.
"These items are a must for a noble house, My Lord," Stephanie said as they left a large shop, arms full of receipts. "We still need furniture, paintings, banquet decorations—those can be bought in Giaris."
Raven raised a brow.
"I don't plan on hosting a banquet."
Stephanie stopped walking.
"That would be foolish, My Lord."
Raven blinked. "Why would we suffer for not hosting a banquet?"
She clasped her hands, speaking with the tone of someone schooling an ignorant noble child.
"To build a territory, you need allies. To build houses, you buy materials from nearby cities. If a local lord dislikes you, every shop under their jurisdiction can refuse reasonable prices—or refuse trade entirely. The Royal Family cannot intervene in local commercial affairs."
Raven stiffened slightly. So nobles influence even construction and trade…
"And there is more," Stephanie continued, adjusting her spectacles. "You lack noble etiquette. You have basic manners, but you cannot dance, paint, play music, or hold artistic conversation. These are critical among nobles."
She sighed dramatically.
"A useless, pampered noble with perfect dancing skills can win favor and marry into a high-ranked family. But a brilliant, battlefield-proven youth with no social grace? He will be called a barbarian. A joke."
Raven rubbed his forehead.
"What do you suggest?"
"Allocate one hour each day, My Lord. I will hire proper teachers."
"I'll think about it," he said, entering the carriage. "Let's return."
…
Departure from the Capital
By the time they returned to the Crown's Tavern, it was 9:30 A.M.
Jacob paced nervously in the foyer. A black carriage stood at the entrance, luggage already strapped to the roof.
"My Lord, everything is prepared."
"Good," Raven replied. "Let's depart."
They checked out of the Tavern. Herald, the maids, and even the guards bowed as Raven left—his group had earned a quiet respect over their stay.
The carriage rolled through the capital, the city still tense from the recent assassination. Steam engines roared as they reached the railway station. Travelers shuffled about, voices blending with the hiss of boiling steam.
"Our tickets?" Raven asked.
Jacob handed him the envelope.
"First-class compartment, My Lord. Departure in thirty minutes."
"Let's board."
First class offered polished wood, warm brass fittings, velvet seats, and a quiet refinement. Raven took the window seat; Selene and Jacob sat opposite, while Stephanie stored their luggage.
The whistle screeched.
The train lurched forward, pulling out of the station. Raven watched the platform slide away, turning into a blur of stone and color.
"How long to Giaris?" he asked.
"Six days, My Lord," Jacob answered. "We should arrive by October 4th."
Raven nodded absently, checking his statistics.
His eyes widened.
Spirit power: 169.
'He gained two points… in two weeks?' Raven scanned Selene's status next. Her spirit reached 17.9.
'Spirit Pool… it's beyond worth it. Even with an Uncommon Spirit Technique, gaining two points takes fifty days of constant meditation. The Spirit Pool gives it in five hours.'
[Do not visit that place again. And do NOT send your subordinates.] Zera's voice was sharp.
'Why?'
Zera fell silent.
Raven narrowed his eyes but didn't press. He pulled out his notebook to study rune knowledge instead.
Five days passed quietly.
They stopped briefly in Bloodstone City for supplies, then continued onward. The train ride was blissfully uneventful—a welcome change after weeks of chaos.
…
October 4th, 1420 Rune Era — Arrival in Giaris
The train whistled as it approached Azmar Railway Station. Steam clouded the air, mingling with the cries of vendors and the shuffle of returning travelers.
Raven stepped onto the platform, inhaling deeply.
Home.
The group took a carriage to the Holmes Mansion on Bristol Street. As the gates opened, four figures stood waiting.
Emanuel.
Ronald.
Marcellus.
Leona.
"Welcome back, My Lord!" they greeted.
"Thanks for protecting the mansion while I was gone," Raven said.
"It was our duty," Marcellus replied.
Raven turned to Emanuel.
"Any incidents?"
Emanuel nodded gravely.
"A messenger from the Sinclair Knight family came two weeks ago. They seek annulment of your engagement. They said if you don't agree by the end of this month, they will notify the Spade Council."
Raven frowned.
'The Spade Council has influence… but it is Count Spade's territory.'
"Send them a message. I accept the annulment."
"Yes, My Lord."
"Next?"
"A lady named Rebecca visited multiple times asking for an appointment. I recorded her address."
"Visit her tomorrow. Invite her here."
Emanuel nodded and continued.
"Inspector Bennett visited two days ago. He wants to reopen your kidnapping investigation."
Raven's brow tightened.
"Next."
"A banquet invitation from the Humphrey House—October 30th."
Raven waved a hand dismissively.
"Put it aside. I'm not in the mood for banquets."
"If you decline a banquet invitation, it will damage your reputation among nobles, My Lord. And if you ever host a banquet in the future… the Humphrey House and their allies won't attend," Stephanie said from behind.
Raven rubbed his forehead.
'She's just like my aunt…'
"Haa… I'll think about it."
He gestured for Emanuel to continue.
Emanuel cleared his throat.
"Two young men from the Amell and Wills Families came last week, My Lord. They barged in with several men and demanded repayment of a thousand gold coins. They claimed you borrowed the money months ago. Then they ordered us to vacate the mansion."
Raven's eyes narrowed.
"And?"
"Lady Quincy intervened. She beat them black and blue. Head Constable Kyler arrived shortly after and resolved the matter."
Raven's voice sharpened.
"It seems I need to teach those families some manners."
Emanuel nodded and continued.
"Next, a letter arrived from the Spade Council. A summons regarding the Chateau Holmes Wine Factory."
Raven stopped walking.
"Chateau Holmes belongs to the Holmes family. Who are they to interfere?"
Emanuel hesitated.
"There is… more, My Lord."
Raven's expression hardened. "Speak."
"The Wine Factory and all shops are registered under Walter Holmes's name. Your father. According to this document"—Emanuel presented a legal parchment sealed with the Royal Crest—"your father borrowed 50,000 gold coins from Crest Merchandise… and the debt was never repaid."
Raven stiffened.
"…What?"
"They say the deadline is two months from now. If you cannot repay the debt plus interest, the Spade Council will confiscate all Holmes property and transfer everything to Crest Merchandise. This action is supported by your father's Will Executors. They used Article 69, Clause 12 of Property Law to justify it."
Raven's fingers tightened around the parchment.
"When did my father supposedly borrow this money?"
"November 12th, Year 1404, My Lord."
Raven frowned deeply.
"That was sixteen years ago. He built the wine factory around that time…"
Emanuel nodded and handed over two ledger books.
"The factory earns an average of 10,000 gold coins annually. Even if he borrowed money from other firms, he could have repaid the loan and interest within two years. However… I checked all ledgers. There is no record of repayment. Meaning—"
"They destroyed the payment documents."
Raven finished the sentence, voice like steel.
His mind raced.
'Thomas's father wasn't a fool. He would've repaid it. The fact that the Spade Council is involved means the records were destroyed while Thomas was kidnapped… and replaced with forged ones.'
But why?
'If they wanted the property, they could've killed Thomas long ago. Now that killing me seems impossible after the Capital incident… they're switching to legal strangulation.'
Then everything clicked.
'Their real fear is my next move — reclaiming Azmar Town.'
Azmar Town.
A ruined region near the monster-infested Azmar Woodlands.
Rebuilding it required…
Monster-clearingFortress reconstructionHiring mercenariesImmense gold
If they bankrupt him now, he could never complete his reclamation.
Raven let out a low breath.
"…They're desperate."
He turned to Emanuel.
"What is the total amount due with interest?"
Emanuel, startled, grabbed pen and parchment.
"Interest remains unchanged yearly. Calculation:
50,000 × 0.08 = 4,000 per year
Over 16 years: 64,000
Total owed = 114,000 gold coins."
Jacob's jaw hit the floor.
"One hundred… fourteen thousand?!"
"And only 37 days to repay," Raven muttered. "The Council moved the meeting to November 12th. They're all in on it."
He sighed heavily.
"Jacob, book three train tickets to the Capital."
"My Lord?" Jacob blinked.
"You, Selene, and Quincy will go to the Mystic Cauldron."
"You're not coming, My Lord?" Jacob asked.
Raven shook his head.
"I must focus on something else. Emanuel — which room is available? Isolated and quiet."
"The east wing, My Lord. Spacious and silent. I'll prepare it immediately."
Within an hour, the room was cleaned, ventilated, and illuminated. The scent of polished wood lingered in the air.
Raven ordered several tables and lamps arranged neatly. He sterilized every surface himself before laying out his alchemic equipment.
'I can concoct three times in two hours… then I must rest two hours. Even at max output, it's only twelve potions per day.'
He unpacked the thirty ingredient sets for Mind of Insight potions — the cheapest yet most useful cognitive-enhancement potion in his arsenal.
'No low-rank potion in this Empire can enhance the mind. This will attract Anastasia… and every potion master.'
[The alchemists of this continent are pathetic. But understandable. They improved through trial and error, not inherited knowledge.] Zera murmured.
Raven smiled faintly and began.
His first attempt failed.
Then the second.
Then the third.
He exhaled slowly, rested two hours, then tried again.
Finally — success.
He continued working. Failed once. Succeeded again. Discovered errors. Adjusted. Rested.
For twenty relentless hours, he brewed nonstop.
By the end, he had produced 11 successful potions out of 30 batches.
Not ideal — but more than enough.
At 4:30 P.M., Raven emerged — exhausted — holding a wooden box filled with potions.
Jacob, Selene, and Quincy were waiting in the main hall.
Quincy bowed.
"Departure is at 5:30 P.M., My Lord."
Raven handed Jacob the box.
"There are eleven potions. Mind of Insight. They increase comprehension speed."
Selene gasped.
"Comprehension? You mean it helps understand spell models faster?"
Raven smiled.
"Let Anastasia test them. Tell her my senior was inspired by Alchemist Jonathan's 'Elixir of Insight' and created this."
Selene frowned.
"But you concocted these yourself… why hide it?"
"I don't want unnecessary attention."
He raised a finger.
"Do not sell for below five thousand gold per potion. Its true worth is comparable to Night Vision."
"Nineteen thousand?!" Jacob squeaked.
"More or less."
Raven handed Jacob an additional nine thousand gold and a spatial ring.
Zera snorted:
[Aren't you trusting them too much?]
'It's a loyalty test.'
Raven handed Selene three sheets of paper — potion ingredient lists.
"As long as you sell the potions, you will have around sixty thousand gold.
Buy one hundred batches of each ingredient list."
Selene paled.
"T-that much?"
"Yes. You'll need around thirty to thirty-five thousand gold in total."
He handed her a final list.
"These ingredients are far costlier. Buy fifty sets. Around twenty to thirty thousand gold."
Jacob swallowed.
"Won't that leave us penniless?"
Raven raised an eyebrow.
"How much did I spend on ingredients earlier?"
Selene answered softly.
"Three thousand gold."
"And I turned that into eleven potions worth over fifty thousand."
Jacob nearly dropped the box.
Selene's voice cracked.
"My Lord… when did you learn alchemy…?"
Raven placed a finger on her lips.
"No more questions."
Selene nodded rapidly.
The three bowed deeply.
Jacob, Selene, and Quincy departed for the Capital — carrying the future of the Holmes family in their hands.