Oswald Strongheart’s POV

As Oswald left the alleyway where he had encountered Nox and Alacritas, he shuddered. Running on pure adrenaline during the conversation, he felt the full weight of the situation only after departing. He yearned to understand more, but that luxury remained elusive.

How can I even trust you people? You've shown me nothing, neither Tristan nor my friends.

Frustration led him to bite his lower lip and clench his fist. He felt powerless, akin to a red leaf caught in a storm. The forces at play were so vast that he seemed to have no control over his future.

However, recalling the Monster King's visage as he was seized by the neck, Oswald exhaled deeply. The king's words, promising to send someone, were vivid in his memory. Although confusing at the time, their significance now dawned on him.

There's no reason for them to manipulate me. If that monster had intended harm, he could have killed me on the spot along with the others. Yet, he didn't, stopping after 'killing' Tristan. And now, Tristan's fate remains uncertain. The message I received could only have been from him—only he would speak in such a pure and naive manner.

Mustering his courage, Oswald took a deep breath. If Tristan trusted them enough to convey a message through them, I must trust them as well. This is the only path left for me, and if it's the wrong choice, then so be it. I'd rather act and live with the consequences than remain paralyzed by fear of them.

With resolute steps, Oswald headed toward his destination. However, he decided against visiting his family mansion to unravel the conspiracy, opting instead for Jasmine's restaurant.

Upon entering the now quiet restaurant, Jasmine approached him. "Young Lord Oswald, I'm terribly sorry for what happened to His Grace." She signaled for a servant, "Please serve the young lord whatever he wishes. It's on the house."

Hearing her sympathetic tone, Oswald shook his head. "Now is not the time for that. I've come to you because I urgently need your help."

Sensing the seriousness in Oswald's voice, Jasmine instructed the servant to leave and offered privacy for their conversation. "Let's go to my back office. I assume this matter requires utmost secrecy."

Oswald nodded, and they proceeded past the kitchen to Jasmine's office. After ensuring they were alone, she closed the door and faced Oswald, "We're in private now, so feel free to speak openly. Tell me, how can I assist you? If it's within my means, I'll do anything to repay the kindness you and Tristan have shown me."

Oswald outlined his plan. "I need you to organize an open hour where ordinary people can dine for free at your restaurant. I will cover all the expenses."

Jasmine, puzzled by Oswald's request, nodded hesitantly. "It will be challenging on such short notice, but we have enough supplies to serve a decent number of guests. However, may I ask why you wish to do this?"

"A great battle might soon erupt within the inner citadel," Oswald said gravely. "I want as many people as possible to evacuate from there without arousing suspicion."

Jasmine's demeanor became serious upon hearing this. "In that case, I will not let you down. I'll have my staff spread the word throughout the citadel about the open hour, emphasizing that the food will be free. It may cost me dearly, but the safety of the people is worth far more."

Oswald smiled and bowed in gratitude. "Thank you. I cannot begin to express how much I appreciate this."

"There's no need to thank me," Jasmine reassured, patting Oswald on the shoulder. "What good is my wealth if my customers all perish? Now, go and attend to your preparations. I imagine you have much to do."

"I will certainly reimburse you for this," Oswald promised, leaving Jasmine's office and the restaurant behind. With determined steps, he headed towards his family mansion.

Upon arrival, Oswald observed the bustling activity around him: couples jesting, elders running errands, and unfamiliar guards casting glances his way. The realization of his obliviousness weighed heavily on him. To think they were so close, and I didn't notice. These eyes of mine must be for decoration because I am truly blind.

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Maintaining his composure, Oswald entered the mansion, his gaze sweeping through the grand foyer. His attention was drawn to the staircase, the mansion's centerpiece. The secret father is keeping likely isn't upstairs. It would be too difficult to conceal it from me, especially since my bedroom is there.

His mind raced with thoughts as he wandered aimlessly until an idea struck him. What about the dungeon in our basement? I haven't been there in years, and my father always warned me against going there.

With a specific goal in mind, Oswald navigated towards the left corridor, proceeding down the staircases leading to the basement. Yet, as he descended, he encountered two guards stationed at the door.

"Good morning, gentlemen," Oswald greeted them warmly. "Would you kindly allow me to pass?"

"Young lord..." One of the guards hesitated, exchanging a wary glance with his companion. Then, with a pained expression, he addressed Oswald, "We are terribly sorry, young lord. We have orders from your father not to let anyone enter. Please don't make this difficult for us."

Oswald's face momentarily betrayed his shock. Father, I hoped it wasn't true. I truly did hope it wasn’t.

Yet, he quickly masked his dismay with a smile, shaking his head. "I understand. If these are father's orders, I won't cause you any trouble. Best wishes for the remainder of your shift."

With a determined stride, Oswald turned away and ascended towards the upper floor, where he encountered Arnold, the head butler, engaged in his cleaning duties. Oswald paused, a thought crossing his mind. Could Arnold be involved in father's schemes? It would shatter my heart.

Arnold had dedicated over two decades of service to their family, playing a significant role in Oswald's upbringing alongside his late mother. The notion of Arnold betraying him was unthinkable, threatening to unravel Oswald's sense of trust.

"Young lord, is there a problem?" Arnold paused his work to look at Oswald, puzzled by his hesitation.

"No, just pondering," Oswald replied, quickly regaining his composure. After a brief pause, he conveyed his instructions, "Arnold, please gather all the servants in the garden. I have something important to discuss with them."

"Understood, young lord," Arnold responded with a respectful bow, ready to carry out Oswald's request.

As Arnold set off to gather the servants, Oswald waited with a mix of impatience and anxiety, the thought of potentially confronting his father figure over treason gnawing at him.

Arnold's return snapped Oswald from his thoughts. "Young lord, the servants are assembled and awaiting your address," he informed.

Acknowledging Arnold's message, Oswald stepped outside to face the estate's two dozen servants. He began his address with a tone of empathy, "I am aware that many of you have suffered the loss of loved ones in this Apocalypse, and my heart goes out to you. In recognition of your loyal service over the years, it's time we reciprocate. I've arranged with Jasmine to host an open hour at noon today, where you're all invited to enjoy a complimentary meal. This is also an opportunity for you to check on your families and spend time with your loved ones. Anyone interested may take advantage of this offer now."

The servants exchanged murmurs and glances with Arnold, uncertain of how to proceed.

Seeing this, Arnold reassured them with a smile, "The young lord's offer stands. Those of you inclined to accept this kindness should do so without hesitation. You'll regret missing this chance."

Encouraged by Arnold's endorsement, over half of the servants eagerly departed, their faces alight with gratitude. Some even voiced their thanks to Oswald as they left.

Arnold chuckled at the scene before turning to the remaining servants, whose expressions were a blend of confusion, indecision, and mild frustration. "It seems the rest of you prefer to stay and work. Well, there's nothing more to say. Please, return to your duties."

As the remainder of the servants disappeared back into the mansion, Arnold's observation caught Oswald's attention, igniting a spark of realization. "Only the new servants chose to stay. That's indeed peculiar."

Oswald, feeling a rush of apprehension, turned to Arnold, seeking confirmation, "Did you know about this?"

Arnold's response was tinged with a weary acknowledgment of the complexity of their situation. "I am privy to many things, young lord," he sighed, his expression somber. "However, this particular issue has been the most challenging to address. I wish you the utmost success in your efforts."

Oswald pondered for a moment, then, with a heavy heart, suggested, "I want you to leave the mansion too. Things might escalate."

Arnold's smile was bittersweet as he understood the gravity of Oswald's concern but stood firm in his decision. "I appreciate your concern, young lord, but my departure would raise suspicions among those who chose to stay. It's crucial that I remain here to maintain a semblance of normalcy until you're prepared to act."

Oswald, moved by Arnold's dedication and loyalty, expressed his gratitude. "I'll strive to handle this situation as cleanly as possible. Thank you, Arnold, for standing by me."

With their exchange concluded, Oswald set off from the mansion, armed with critical insights and preparations in place. It was time to reconvene with the black-furred monster.