The Mad Dog of the Duke's Estate

Chapter 75

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.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"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."

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.

"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.