Sahro swiftly covered his face and skin with his shemagh and clothing, his movements marked by a sense of gravity, while Glenn made sure to be as prepared as possible. The Howard family crested ring remained safely stashed in his dimensional pouch, ready to be retrieved at a moment's notice. Glenn turned towards Sahro, his expression solemn and focused.

"Did you order the silver-coated weapons already?" he asked with a sense of urgency in his voice.

The Black Heir shook his head.

"I had planned to do it this evening after gathering as much money as I could from the contracts."

Glenn winced and adjusted his tie, his gaze locked on the darkened sky, which seemed to hang over them with an ominous weight. An undeniable tension filled the air, and his guts were telling him to leave this place running, but he couldn't do that. He and Sahro had a mission to accomplish, and he had given his word to Giselle. The duo left the Training halls, heading for the highest point of the Cleaner's Workshop.

There, they found an observatory towering above the building, accessible to anyone who sought it. As they arrived, they noticed a few figures standing in contemplative silence, their attention directed toward the ramparts of the Third Circle. Glenn joined them, acknowledging the presence of the mysterious mint-scented lady and the mercenary Marina.

Together, they silently observed the Remparts, where a deep rumbling shook the entire Northern Town. Gradually, two massive gates controlling access to the Bourgeoisie began to swing open, exuding an aura of foreboding. The faces of those around them bore the weight of the moment, a collective understanding of the gravity of the situation. After what felt like an eternity, the gates fully revealed what lay beyond.

Another town unfolded before their eyes, characterized by an abundance of brass and copper in its architecture, casting a warm, golden hue that was both captivating and unsettling. A procession of bronze-clad knights emerged from the gates, escorting an ostentatiously decorated carriage, likely carrying the Baron.

The vehicle was pulled effortlessly by two brass-plated, huge horses, followed by a procession of walking maids. Glenn's eyes widened in awe at the display of opulence, and he couldn't help but rub his eyes to ensure it was not a mirage. If all this splendor was merely for a Baron, he could scarcely imagine the wealth held by the Counts, Dukes, and the King himself.

The woman beside him, Marina, spat on the ground, a dark expression on her face.

"Here it comes," she muttered, her eyes fixed on the ornate carriage. They watched as the procession made its way toward a massive mansion a few minutes from the Northern Town, their view gradually obscured. The duo chose to leave the observatory, heading down the stairs.

Sahro rubbed his neck, his expression contemplative.

"The mission is going to be... much more challenging than I had anticipated."

Glenn mirrored his friend's gravity, rubbing his glabella as he attempted to calculate the number of bronze-clad knights they had seen. At least fifty? And that didn't even include the servants and maids accompanying the procession, not to mention Stormblade, the formidable enforcer at the Baron's disposal.

Facing such overwhelming forces was not just a challenge but an almost insurmountable task. Glenn sighed, his hands clasped behind his neck, bearing the weight of the situation. Though he possessed the crested ring as a potential solution to trade for Callum, it remained uncertain whether the Baron would take the deal. They roamed the corridors of the Cleaner's Workshop in silence, eventually leaving the building. The streets of the Northern Town were eerily deserted, lending an air of desolation to the surroundings, almost as if it was a ghost town.

Glenn was surprised to see several guards posted at various street corners; they typically remained closer to the gates. Policing in the town was mainly overseen by the Cleaner's Workshop and Onnea's Church, making the presence of so many official troops unusual. Unbeknownst to him, Glenn guided them to the outskirts of the village, where the Baron's mansion stood. The bronze knights had established a camp there, seemingly used to it. It probably was the same force that was detached each time Howard came down in the Fringe.

A knight noticed them from afar, before moving toward them. He was armed with the customary halberd and didn't seem to be bothered by his heavy-looking bronze armor.

"Halt, gentlemen!"

Glenn and Sahro obeyed, the Black Heir eyeing his companion with an uncertain gaze. The knight looked up and down at Sahro, probably suspicious of him due to his clothes hiding his body.

"What can I do for you? You're aware this is a restricted zone, right?"

Glenn nodded slowly, having already anticipated as much. "I'm hoping to meet Sir Howard."

The knight scoffed dismissively. "And what for? Are you hoping to plead to avoid the Harvest? Save your breath; it'll end as poorly for you as it did for the others."

Glenn shook his head, puzzled by the knight's ominous words. "I wish to propose a deal to Sir Howard regarding Howard Jefferson."

The knight's eyes widened in shock before he abruptly bowed and left them standing there.

As they watched the knight depart, Glenn turned to Sahro, determination etched on his face. "I'll go alone. You investigate what's happening with the Harvest, alright?" He paused and glanced at the small private army, "...And be prepared for the worst, just in case," He added gravely.

Sahro hesitated briefly, his expression hardening. Eventually, he nodded, albeit uncertain about whether leaving his companion to face the enigmatic Baron alone was a good idea.

Glenn cast a final glance at his departing friend before turning back toward the camp. Minutes later, a squad of five knights approached him. One among them, clad in dark, imposing steel armor, exuded an aura of dread that sent a shiver down Glenn's spine. The other four bronze-clad knights maintained a wary distance from their ominous comrade. The towering figure stood at an imposing two meters, every inch of his body encased in coal-black steel.

"My master wishes to meet you," the dark knight declared, his voice cold and rough, almost otherworldly.

Glenn offered a slight bow, a shiver coursing through his body in the presence of this formidable figure. The oppressive atmosphere made it seem as if the man was anything but human.

'Well, that's because he isn't. Human, I mean,' Diamanes responded a trace of contempt in his mental voice. 'I'm pretty sure he is a demon or something along those lines, you know?'

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

'Wait, a demon? What does this mean?' Glenn questioned, surprised.

'That means he is really strong and surely evil. A hunting dog at the services of his master.' Diamanes' disdain for the black knight was unmistakable.

'I guess that would be the Baron?' Glenn ventured, his question tinged with uncertainty.

'How could I know?' Diamanes countered.

The black knight gestured for Glenn to follow, and the young man gulped nervously before stepping forward. As they neared the steel gates surrounding the mansion, they swung open as if by magic, emitting an ominous creaking sound that seemed to echo with foreboding.

Behind Glenn, the four bronze-clad knights maintained their watchful distance, while the black knight led the way through the mansion's gardens. Each step felt like it brought him closer to death, but Glenn kept on going, resolved.

'Damn, I only need the thunder to rumble to make this a vampire movie!' Glenn thought wryly, observing the mansion's eerie grandeur. It was meticulously maintained, with no speck of dust marring its opulence. Maids and servants scurried about, ensuring the estate remained impeccable for its enigmatic master. Countless paintings adorned the walls, likely portraits of the Baron's lineage. Glenn's gaze settled on one particular painting, his curiosity piqued.

He retrieved the wanted poster that had long been tucked away in his dimensional pouch, comparing it to the portrait before him. The artwork bore the title "The Howards," and it featured four figures. The eldest, a stern-looking man, proudly wore the Howard family crest on his vest, his angular face and jet-black hair marking him as the patriarch. An imposing madame, presumably the Baron's wife, clung to her husband's arm, her ostentatious red dress and ample bosom a testament to her extravagance. Positioned between them were two young adults, likely Glenn's age: a man and a woman.

The man bore an uncanny resemblance to the face on the wanted poster, with his blond hair and the same prideful stance. It could only be Howard Jefferson, and the black attire he wore in the portrait matched the garments Glenn had found in the chest in Still Peak. Yet, the person assumed to be his sister lacked a face as if it had been deliberately erased from the painting.

'What a nice-looking family!' Glenn thought sarcastically, before being nudged forward by the black knight. He quickly slipped the wanted poster back where it came in his pouch, before following the huge man. The sounds of his steel boots resonated in the house, making Glenn wince each time as he thought of the marble making up the ground being scratched each time the man placed a foot on the ground.

They continued their procession, Glenn unable to shake the feeling of being watched by something...abnormal.

'There are a few enchantments in this place, but it's surprisingly light. They're all concealment spells, strangely,' Diamanes observed, offering his insights.

'That means the Baron is indeed hiding something here,' deduced Glenn.

'Or that he values his privacy,' countered Diamanes, a hint of uncertainty in his mental voice.

'I doubt that,' Glenn stated with conviction.

Finally, the black knight halted in front of a towering oak door, swinging it open with a sense of ceremony. He stood beside it, hands clasped behind his back in an imposing display of discipline.

Glenn stepped forward into the room, his eyes instantly drawn to the inviting warmth of the fireplace that crackled with life. Plush couches beckoned from every corner, and a well-stocked bar adorned one wall, a testament to the Baron's indulgences. A man sat at the far end of the room, his imposing leather chair a symbol of authority. He shared the same features as the portrait but appeared older, his pallor ghostly and his frame emaciated. Behind him, windows obstructed by thick curtains were letting the bare minimum of light inside the room.

"So, you're the man who's been throwing my son's name around. How bold!" The Baron's voice sliced through the air, icy and mocking, shaking Glenn's mind.

Glenn took a deep breath, approaching the desk with measured steps. "I am pleased to meet you, Sir Howard. I am Glenn—"He began to talk diplomatically, only to be met with a dismissive snort.

"I don't care who you are, I only care about what you have to say," The Baron cut him off with a dry tone, annoyed at him.

Glenn clenched his teeth, bracing for the task ahead. 'So be it.'

He retrieved the crested ring from his dimensional pouch, placing it before the Baron. The man's eyes widened momentarily before a mask of indifference settled back over his face.

"Where did you get that?" The Baron's curiosity betrayed his otherwise stoic demeanor.

Glenn's heart pounded as he prepared to make his proposition. "I'll tell you if you make a deal with me."

The Baron abruptly stood, sending his chair crashing to the floor. His eyes darkened, and he bellowed in a cavernous voice, his anger palpable. "You WORM! How dare you even try to make a deal with ME?!?"

Glenn raised his hands in a gesture of peace, the ring concealed in his right palm. "We both have something the other wants. I believe that's reason enough."

The Baron's temper gradually cooled, and he circled his desk, advancing toward Glenn. His breath was fetid, exuding a putrid odor of decay and blood that filled the room. Despite how close he was to the Baron, Glenn didn't manage to see if the man had fangs instead of teeth.

"What makes you think I can't simply torture the information out of you?" The Baron's voice dripped with malice.

Glenn's mind flashed back to the horrors of the Thorns Church prison, and he held firm. "You can try, but there's no way I'll be saying anything."

The Baron sighed, circling back to his desk and righting his chair with a wave of his hand, pulling it up magically. He seated himself once more, turning his gaze toward Glenn.

"So, what do you want? Money, women, perhaps access to the Bourgeoise?" He signaled with a bell to a servant who promptly entered and began pouring a drink, his forehead marked with a distinctive white pattern. The servant's features were notable, with blue eyes, black-red hair, and most importantly, black skin. He bore a strong resemblance to Giselle, like a scrawny, young male version of the proud Black Heir leader.

A wry smile tugged at Glenn's lips. 'That's Callum. There's no way he isn't her grandson.'

"I've heard you paid a visit to the Sewers two decades ago," Glenn began cautiously, watching the Baron's reaction.

The Baron's eyes froze, and he fixed a piercing gaze on his servant, who remained frozen in the middle of the room.

"I want to take the grandson of the Black Heir's leader, back to his grandmother."

The Baron's lips twitched, and he spoke with an air of detached amusement. "Alright. But ultimately, it's Callum's choice, isn't it?"

Glenn shrugged and shook his head.

"Not really, I don't care at all about his opinion. I've come for him, and I'll take him back whether he likes it or not. My life depends on it."

'Yep, it's either that or Giselle throws me back at the Thorns Church. And no way I'm letting this happen.'

With deliberate determination, Glenn placed the crested ring before the Baron. "I'll tell you where I found this, and more."

He then produced Jefferson's journal, laying it beside the ring. The Baron's eyes remained fixed on the two items, devoid of any emotion.

With a casual wave, he signaled to the door, and the black knight re-entered the room. Glenn turned his gaze toward the imposing figure, puzzled. He turned back to the Baron, the weight of their negotiations heavy in the air.

"So, do you accept this deal, or not?"

The Baron raised his hand, and Glenn's senses tingled with impending danger.

"My son is dead. You wouldn't have his diary nor his ring otherwise. After all, he was instructed to keep his ring in his dimensional pouch at all times." Glenn felt his blood freeze in his veins, his back drenched in sweat. The Baron picked the crested ring up and looked at it with a scowl, "What a disappointment...No worse than his sister," He grunted. The Baron suddenly closed his fist on the ring and crushed it, dropping the bent metal on his desk. He crossed his arms and stared at Glenn.

"...Nonetheless," The Baron's lips curved upward slightly, "...What an interesting turn of fate. Maybe I should thank this idiot for sending you my way. I'll play with you, sure."

In a swift motion, Glenn lunged forward, evading the black knight's grasp coming from behind him. He rolled to his feet, his instincts sharpened by the imminent threat. Without hesitation, Glenn sprinted toward the windows, his heart pounding. He unleashed a Magic Bullet that ripped the curtains and shattered the glass into a thousand glinting shards before leaping onto the ledge. As he looked back, Callum's expression remained impassive, while the Baron's lips curled into a chilling smile.

"May the Harvest commence," the Baron murmured darkly.

With unwavering resolve, Glenn jumped from the third-story mansion, the ground hurtling with great speed.

'This couldn't have gone worse,' Diamanes remarked, deadpanned.

"No shit!" Glenn hissed through his clenched teeth as he braced for the impact.

Yeah, this certainly could have gone a little better.