"The Forest Will states that this matter is its responsibility, and it shall undertake to eliminate the influence upon your body or soul."

Scarcely had Gotaya received the message from the Forest Will when she promptly repeated it to Glen.

"I harbor no intention of blaming it. I surmise that none could have foreseen that such a thing lay hidden beneath. Miscalculations are, after all, inevitable."

"Then, ought we to return now?" Gotaya inquired.

"Let us depart," Glen said, taking the lead and stepping away.

Gotaya trailed behind him.

...

Dong, dong, dong...

Tia, who was engaged in preparing breakfast, heard the knock on the door. She set aside her task, wiped her hands, and made her way to the door to open it.

Outside stood an elderly gentleman, immaculately attired, with a head of fluffy white hair, exuding an air of artistic refinement.

"Sir, may I ask whom you seek?" Tia inquired with great politeness.

She was aware that this was no ordinary place, and thus the old man before her might be of some consequence.

However, she was over - thinking.

"I am Hopdo, an artist dedicated to the craft of painting. I am in search of Mr. Glen, the author of those enchanting fairy tales. Does he reside here? I made extensive inquiries and only learned from a young lad named Bonnie that he dwells here. Pardon my candor, but the environment here is truly abysmal and ill - befitting a genius of Mr. Glen's caliber."

The old gentleman spoke with animated gestures, his words flowing at a brisk pace, leaving Tia somewhat dazed.

Yet, all she needed to know was that he was here to see Glen.

"Very well, sir. Please step in and be seated. I shall go and summon him."

Tia led the old gentleman to the parlor and seated him, then hastened upstairs and rapped on Glen's bedchamber door.

Moments later, Glen, rubbing his eyes, descended the stairs.

"May I inquire if you were looking for me?" Glen approached and asked.

"Are you Glen, the author of those fairy tales?" Hopdo rose to his feet, adjusted his attire, and assumed a solemn demeanor.

"Y - yes, I penned them," Glen replied, his voice betraying a hint of unease as he was unsure of the other's intentions.

Upon receiving confirmation, the old gentleman's face immediately lit up with an expression of exaggerated delight. He stepped forward and enveloped Glen in a hearty embrace. "My goodness! I have finally found you! I am deeply indebted to your stories, for they have bestowed upon me a wealth of inspiration! I am Hopdo, a painter hailing from Rains City. Assuredly, we shall have much to discuss!"

Glen was left quite disconcerted by the embrace. After the old man's rapid - fire speech, he was momentarily at a loss for an appropriate response.

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"Pray, take a seat. We can converse at our leisure," Glen said, attempting to buy some time to figure out how to deal with this peculiar painter.

"Mr. Hopdo, I am honored that you hold my stories in such high regard. This is the most profound compliment an author could receive, especially from an artist of your standing," Glen began with a polite overture. "I never anticipated that it would prompt you to journey all the way to this humble locale to seek me out. However, I wonder if the sole purpose of your visit is merely to make my acquaintance. This truly overwhelms me."

"Assuredly, you are worthy of such attention. Yet, my purpose in coming here extends beyond mere acquaintance. I wish to invite you to join our club, a club exclusive to artists!"

Hopdo explained with a smile.

"A club?" Glen feigned a look of keen interest.

"Indeed, a club," Hopdo said, his tone betraying a palpable sense of pride in the club to which he belonged. "The full name of our club is the Genius Kitchen Club. The members of the club are akin to master chefs, each eager to concoct high - end delicacies that will satisfy the most discerning palates!"

"Truly, it is an apt name," Glen remarked, feigning complete approval.

At that moment, Tia presented Glen's specially - made fruit - juice beverage. Having overheard the conversation between the two, she thought to herself that Glen must indeed be a remarkable cook.

"But..." Just as Glen was on the verge of declining, Hopdo seemed to recall something.

He continued, "Oh, indeed. Our club enjoys the patronage of Her Highness, the Third Princess of the kingdom. Each member receives an exorbitant sum of money annually to fund their creative endeavors."

Glen promptly swallowed his refusal and, with a smile, stepped forward to shake hands. "In truth, I have a multitude of inspirations yearning to be realized. Should I join your esteemed club, they shall surely find a fitting outlet for expression!"

"Precisely! I knew you were a kindred spirit, a genius like us!" Hopdo exclaimed with great exuberance.

The two of them instantly seemed like the closest of friends. Hopdo peppered Glen with numerous questions regarding the creative process behind his stories, eager to glean some inspiration therefrom.

Although Glen was not the true author, he had no difficulty expounding upon interpretations of fairy tales from his past life, betraying no signs of deception.

Finally, Hopdo deemed his visit to be drawing to a close and prepared to depart. He extended an invitation to Glen, saying,

"Joining the club necessitates certain formalities, which must be completed in person. Would you care to accompany me now? Upon our arrival at my abode, I shall extend my warmest hospitality and assist you in completing all the necessary procedures."

Glen deliberated for a moment and then declined. "I am most eager to go, but there are still some matters here that demand my attention. Kindly inform me of your address, and I shall pay you a visit in due course."

Without hesitation, Hopdo provided his detailed address.

Upon stepping outside, he couldn't resist commenting, "Oh, look at this place. It resembles a forgotten pre - war ruin. How could it possibly be suitable for habitation? Mr. Glen, you deserve a more fitting environment. Trust me, procure a residence in the main urban area at your earliest convenience."

"I shall," Glen replied. Glancing at the surrounding edifices and then at Hopdo, who seemed entirely unperturbed, he couldn't help but ask,

"Mr. Hopdo, few would dare to venture here alone. You are truly courageous."

Turning around as he reached the street, Hopdo smiled. "Mr. Glen, though I may be advanced in years, I saw military service in my youth. Even if I were to encounter a fearsome beast, I should not be daunted."

One could discern a glimmer of pride in the eyes of the artist at that moment.

Glen couldn't help but chuckle. After bidding farewell, he ensured that NightRoar would secretly safeguard the old man.

A club... It seems I must amass some story drafts in the future. I cannot simply accept their funds without due recompense... With these thoughts, Glen closed the door.

The day passed uneventfully until evening.

In the drawing - room, Glen, Tia, and Ravel were partaking of a late - night repast.

After sating their hunger, Glen suddenly addressed Ravel,

"Your parents have returned. I had a word with them upon my return from the main city a few days ago. You may depart tomorrow."

Ravel was taken aback.

Glen then turned to Tia. "The same applies to you. Leave with him."

The little maid lowered her head and remained silent.

"May I leave tomorrow?" Ravel asked, a hint of bewilderment in his voice.

"Yes," Glen affirmed with a nod, and then issued a warning. "Having been in each other's company for so long, I trust you are well - aware of my disposition. Should you ever again engage in actions that displease me..."

A cold glint flashed in his eyes. "The fate that befell Count Punk and his ilk shall befall your family."