"Oh! You're back, finally!"

"Huh?" Hans had just entered the bustling merchant guild's building when a sudden voice caught him off guard. Startled, he turned to see a man in his mid-thirties exuding wealth and status with his elegant black attire.

"Greetings, Lord Ronald. How's your day?" Hans approached with a polite smile.

Lord Ronald extended his hand for a handshake and said, "How many times do I have to tell you, Hans? Just call me Ron."

As they took a seat at a small table in a corner of the guild, Hans inquired, "What can I do for you, Ronald?"

Ron shook his head; if Hans didn't want to call him Ron, then he wouldn't press it, all because he appreciates how Hans always respects and acts professionally.

"Due to some unfortunate events, I need to expedite my plans. I'm here to buy that mansion

Hans, a little puzzled, asked, "Which mansion? We have several for sale."

Ron clarified, "The mansion from last year, the one that was owned by that Noble. I had planned to purchase it later when I gathered enough funds, but circumstances have changed and I had to speed things up. Now, shall we go to see the mansion?"

Hans narrowed his eyes, and his expression shifted. "I just returned from the mansion," he said, his tone trailing off.

Ron smiled. "That's good. I see you're tired. We can sign the contract now, and I'll visit the mansion later." Ron, seemingly oblivious to Hans's unease, stood up, indicating he was in a hurry.

Seeing that the man was silent, still sitting at the table, Ron raised an eyebrow and asked, "Hans, is something wrong?"

Meeting Ron's gaze, Hans replied, "Ronald, I just told you I came from that mansion."

Ron nodded. "Yes, you did, but what's that have to—"

He stopped and widened his eyes. "Y-You don't mean..."

Hans confirmed, "Yes, Ronald, the mansion was sold today."

"WHAT!"

"By whom? Who bought it? More importantly, where do they get the money?"

"I can't tell you that," Hans refused to answer.

"You must tell me NOW!" Ron's outburst drew the attention of everyone in the guild. The guards inside prepared for any potential trouble.

Remaining calm, Hans declared, this is not the first time he dealt with angry customers, he had nothing to fear since the guards were nearby.

"I'm not allowed to share any information about the guild contract or any information about the buyer."

Then he rose from his seat and with a stern tone, he added "And please, Lord Ronald, next time, lower your voice when addressing a guild member. I'm sure you wouldn't want the guild as your enemy."

Ron visibly paled, realizing his blunder. He knows what happened to those who tried to challenge or take control of the guild; they got crushed and made an example for all. The merchant guild may not be a guild of warriors or mages, but it has something far more powerful: money, and with money, everything is possible.

"If you want more information, you're welcome to inquire with the new owner. Now, if you don't require anything else from me, please have a good day."

Hans turned and walked away, leaving a stunned and frustrated Lord Ronald behind. The guild members, who had been watching the scene unfold, returned to their business, but the tension in the air lingered.

Ron took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. He knew he had overstepped his bounds by shouting in the guild, but he couldn't help himself. The mansion is very important to him and now someone suddenly snatched it away.

'I need to find a way to take it back.' His eyes glowed dangerously for a moment. 'I need to deal with the new owner, and the problem will be solved.'

Ron's thoughts were filled with frustration and anger; not only had he lost one of his business partners, but he now also lost the mansion that he had set his eyes on.

He took another deep breath, calming himself, and walked nicely and with a smile out of the guild to not cause any more trouble. Being an enemy of the merchant guild is the last thing Ron wants.

…

Meanwhile, in another part of the town, an angry-looking man was seen walking with fast and heavy steps.

"Father, please," the young man behind him urged him to calm down.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

The angry man suddenly stopped and gazed at his son. "How can I calm down, Bjorn? No matter what we do, we're still barbarian savages in their eyes." The man clenched his fist; his eyes glowed in neon blue as sparks of lightning.

Bjorn sighed, looking at his father. Olaf was a tall man with fiery orange, close-to-red-like short hair, blue eyes, white skin, and a long beard in the same color with a gray line of hair in the middle that spoke of the passing years and the experiences he had lived.

He wore the coat of a brown bear, a symbol of strength and resilience in his culture, and the bone claw necklaces adorned around his neck were a representation of his prowess as a warrior. The tribal markings could be seen on his arms and neck, with his face having none, reflecting his heritage and ancestry.

Bjorn placed a hand on his father's shoulder, reassuring him. "Don't worry, Father. They will regret the day they insult our people. I, Bjorn, son of Earl Olaf, will make sure of that."

Olaf displayed a really big smile hearing his son's words; he delivered a not-so-gentle slap on his back. "That's my boy! You speak like a true Northman. I'm very proud of you."

Bjorn grinned; his father's approval meant the world to him. He had always admired Olaf, not just for his strength as a warrior, but for his wisdom and sense of justice. Bjorn was determined to follow in his father's footsteps and uphold the honor and pride of their people.

"Now, how can we find that interesting fellow?" Olaf scratched his chin; honestly, he had no idea how to find Aron.

Bjorn shook his head in amusement; his father was always like that, following anything he found interesting without planning.

"Why don't we start by visiting my aunt's inn?" Bjorn suggested. "I've heard she makes a fantastic meal."

"!!!" Olaf visibly shook hearing his son's words; he turned to the side, avoiding eye contact with his son.

"I don't think that's a good idea, son… My sister will scold me the moment she sees me."

"Pffft… Hahaha~" Bjorn burst into laughter, enjoying his father's reaction. He was like a child fearing his mother's scolding.

"The Great Earl Olaf, leader of the Northmen, Right hand of the king, and the man who has received the highest honor of using the name Thor, is afraid of his sister's scolding?"

"Yes," Olaf answered immediately and with honesty.

"HAHAHAHA~" Bjorn couldn't take it anymore. He always felt that his father was avoiding visiting his sister, but he never guessed that the reason was that he was afraid of her.

SLAP!.

"Stop laughing, boy, or your next training will be against me."

"!!!" Bjorn immediately stopped; training with his father is not the same as the other Northmen. Training is not the right word; it's more like torture. Olaf has the mentality of 'The harder I beat you, the stronger you will become.'

"Alright, let's visit your aunt Helga," Olaf agreed. He mumbled, "I hope she's not too mad at me for not visiting her in a long time."

Bjorn nodded and followed his father, trying hard not to burst into laughter again and risking his father's wrath.

As they walked away, a woman was watching them from the tall building, the same building that Olaf and his son had just walked from. Suddenly, a man dressed in black from head to toe appeared behind the woman.

"Lady Isobel, do you require our services?" the man inquired respectfully.

Isobel remained focused on Olaf and his son as they walked away. "I want information and assistance in finding a man for me," she said without turning to face the man.

The man moved closer, standing next to her, glancing at the town below from the window. "As long as you pay the right price, we can provide whatever you need." Then he asked, "Now tell me about the man?"

"I don't know his name or appearance, but I know he killed someone and almost engaged in a fight with Father Valarian."

The man's eyes widened in surprise. "That man must have great courage to challenge Father Valarian. But without details, it's difficult to locate him… you said he killed someone, who?"

Isobel flashed a wicked smile and replied, "He killed that pig-noble, William."

The man, hidden behind his black attire, couldn't help but smile. "I like this man already; killing a noble is—" He suddenly stopped.

Isobel instantly caught this and immediately asked the man, "What's wrong? Do you know something?"

The man averted his gaze from the window to her and continued, "I have some information that might be connected to this man. But are you willing to pay the price?"

Isobel thought for a moment; getting information from this group is always costly. At first, she was about to refuse, but her curiosity took over. Finding Aron is more important; she needs a man who can kill a noble with cold blood.

"Just tell me. Don't worry about the cost."

The man nodded and shared, "A few hours ago, we received information about the death of a noble and his servant in the market. I didn't know the noble's name until now."

"Do you know who killed him?"

The man replied, "No, but that's not the point. We discovered another piece of information: two more nobles were killed about two to three days ago."

Isobel was shocked. Two more nobles dead were troubling news, and two names immediately crossed her mind. "Adara and Julian, right?"

The man confirmed, "Yes, along with another man, the famous Dealer."

"T-That's hard to take in." She had mixed feelings about these deaths. She was glad to hear that the Dealer was gone since he had caused numerous problems, and since he had the protection of some nobles, no one had the courage to deal with him until now.

But the death of Adara, and Julian, will cause problems, mainly Adara's death. She didn't like them at all but she was smart to know what's going to happen next. However,

"What does this have to do with William's killer?" Isobel inquired.

The man explained, "Originally, there was no connection. However, we managed to acquire a specific report that contained an intriguing detail."

Isobel leaned in, eager to hear more. "Go on."

"William's bodyguard, the half-giant, was killed in a peculiar way—his blood was completely drained."

"Blood?"

"Yes, blood, nothing left, not a single drop, and the interesting part is that another noble, Lord Julian, also suffered the same fate, his corpse drained of blood."

Isobel immediately grasped the implication. "So, you mean the one who killed William's servant also killed Julian?"

The man confirmed, "Exactly. I go a step further and suggest that the man you're looking for might be responsible for the deaths of all three nobles and the Dealer, either acting alone or with a group using the same technique, as only two bodies were drained of blood."

Isobel's mind raced with the newfound information. The thought of a man capable of killing nobles and draining their blood sent shivers down her spine. Such a killer would undoubtedly be formidable and dangerous.

"Now are you still going to find this man?" The mysterious man in black asked for one last time.

"Find him, no matter the cost," Isobel declared with determination. "I need his help. And keep any information you find hidden from the others."

The man nodded and offered a respectful bow. "As you wish, my Lady." With that, he disappeared in an instant, leaving behind a trail of black smoke.

Isobel gazed at the town below. She displayed a wide, creepy smile showing all of her teeth.

"You'll be perfect for my plans, my little mystery man… hehehe~"