Sipping wine and stretching my legs across the table, I lounged in the chair, observing the tethered, four-legged creature, Spike, nestled in the corner of my room. Despite my generous efforts to entice him with a variety of foods, such as meat, pastries, fruits, milk, and even a bit of wine, he had declined to eat anything for the last few hours.

Spike had been in a battered state when Finnan brought him here, but after some light bandaging and administering some potion by the court healer, the dog had improved. But his refusals persisted.

Yes, the dog must have been mourning his master, who was expected to crawl back to my feet, given that I possessed his cherished possession. However, for him to do that, he had to be in a condition to crawl. The altercation with Finnan had certainly taken a toll on Malcolm, and at present, he was receiving treatment somewhere in the boundaries of this estate.

Moments later, a soft knock on the door echoed, and as I granted permission, Finnan slipped inside, quietly closing the door behind him. He approached me, his lips poised to speak, but I interrupted him with a question of my own, having just finished the wine and placed the empty glass back on the table.

"Tell me he's well and can talk," I asked.

"He can talk… But he's not so well." Finnan answered.

"That would do it for now," I replied, picking up the cane beside me and securing it to the floor as I rose to my feet. Finnan attempted to offer assistance, but I declined. Since taking the medicine Ambrose provided, my body felt lighter and more agile. I could move relatively easily, though a lingering ache persisted.

"Get the dog," I ordered, making my way toward the doors.

Finnan complied promptly, but as he approached Spike, the dog suddenly stood on his hind legs, pressing himself against the wall and emitting a loud, fearful howl. He appeared terrified, and as Finnan tugged on his chain, the howling only grew louder.

"You hurt him?"

"A bit," Finnan admitted with an awkward smile, casting a disdainful look at the dog who, after some hesitation, began to move with his tail tucked between his legs.

"Careful not to repeat that," I warned, leaving the room. "Or, Malcolm won't reason with us anymore."

"Lord!" Finnan acknowledged, trailing closely behind me.

Upon leaving the mansion, Finnan took the lead, guiding me through the garden and into the barn. There, some men were tending to the mooing pigs and cows. However, as soon as they caught sight of me, they abandoned their tasks and bowed respectfully. I waved a dismissive hand in response.

With nods of acknowledgment, they resumed their work, and we made our way to a secluded corner of the barn, where hay was piled high. There, we found Malcolm lying on a makeshift bed of hay, hands and feet tied. The man appeared to be peacefully asleep until his dog, recognizing his master, started barking.

The sudden noise jolted Malcolm awake and drew the attention of the workers, most of whom were already aware of our guest, I suspected. Though, none of them glanced in our direction, presumably fearing my presence.

"A rather excellent hiding place, wouldn't you say?" I remarked amid Spike's barking, my tone tinged with mockery. Here, everyone could see Malcolm, in stark contrast to my explicit orders to conceal him in some not easily accessible spot. Finnan had done the exact opposite.

"Of course, it..." Finnan began but paused, focusing on the overly excited dog attempting to break free to reunite with his owner. With an annoyed look, he tugged on the chain, restraining Spike.

"Silence," Finnan commanded, stomping his foot on the ground. This time, the animal fell silent. Then, he turned to me. "There's no better hiding place on this estate, lord," Finnan explained.

I stayed silent, prompting him to continue.

"Because no matter where I hide someone of his size," he pointed to Malcolm, who was struggling to lift himself, "someone is bound to discover him. And if they thought I was being secretive, word would definitely reach Lord Count and Lord Harwyn. Then it becomes an unnecessary mess."

"Hmm..." I understood his reasoning.

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"So, to avoid all that, I hid our friend in plain sight," Finnan elaborated. "Here, everyone can find him and think along the lines of 'wronged the lord and is paying the price.' Malcolm even has looks for it."

"That makes sense... Good job!" I praised him, patting him on the shoulder for his ingenuity. In a medieval world, such practices didn’t seem foreign, not that it was different in my time.

"Now, tell me, how do we discuss with so many eyes on us? By emptying the room?" I inquired further.

"Exactly," Finnan chuckled. "Everyone!" he called out, clapping his hands, and the workers' attention shifted to him. "Could we have a moment alone with our guest?"

His booming voice resounded through the room, and one by one, the workers departed, closing the door behind them to ensure maximum privacy. Their silent departure, as if they were aware of what was to come, solidified my suspicions.

"He is all yours, lord," Finnan declared, taking a step back and pulling the reluctant Spike with him.

"So, Malcolm," I approached, maintaining a significant distance because caution was paramount against this man. "How are you feeling today, sir?"

Malcolm, now seated upright, turned his head slowly, squinting to get a better look at my face. The next second, a glimmer of recognition flickered in his eyes. However, instead of responding immediately, he continued to survey the surroundings. Once his eyes fell upon Spike and he ensured the dog was unharmed, he finally spoke.

"...Terrible," he uttered a single word before lowering his head with a sigh; shoulders slumped.

"He did a number on you, huh..." I commented, noting Malcolm’s swollen face and bloodied clothes, which concealed most of his injuries. “Anyways, will the One-eyed devil listen to me now?”

Malcolm remained silent, offering no response, while Spike's incessant barking persisted.

I waited for a moment, hoping he might be reflecting on the life choices that had led him to this point and realizing he had no alternative but to agree. I believed he would eventually consent after a few minutes of contemplation. But, no matter how long I waited, no response came.

"Finnan!" I called out impatiently. "What of the dagger this gentleman had?"

"Here, lord," Finnan hastily brought the dagger, which had a distinctive wooden hilt that changed my mind.

"Eira," I read the first name carved on one side. "George," I continued, noting the second name on the other side. "Your wife and son," I concluded, and Malcolm nodded in affirmation.

"You loved them dearly," I said gently. Once again, Malcolm nodded in agreement. "But you couldn't save them. So, to avenge them, you committed those atrocities."

"...Those bastards got what they deserved," he responded with a snarl.

"But did they learn their lesson?" I inquired, leaning forward to gauge his emotions properly. "Did they?"

"No... They didn't," he admitted. “They would never learn.”

“Why not?” I pressed.

"...Because..." Malcolm began, but I interrupted him.

"Because you failed to teach them," I interjected sharply. "You believed killing a bunch of noble wives and children would be enough. It would give you power over them.”

Malcolm fell silent, his eyes cast downwards.

“Such foolishness!” I heaved a deep breath. “And look where it got you. A petty butler putting you through the ringer.” I scoffed. “But I still extend you a hand. Join me, and get proper revenge.”

The man gradually raised his head, meeting my gaze.

“Or don’t.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I still gotta feed this damn dog.” I pointed at Spike, then back to Malcolm. “And some freshly cooked meat would very much do the job.”

“With some species.” Finnan chimed in.

“Spices.” I snapped my fingers. “He wouldn’t even notice the difference.”

Realizing my intentions, Malcolm’s eyes went wide. “I… I will…” he mumbled, panic evident in his voice.

“No… No… No…” I objected with a shallow smile. “Don’t be hasty. I give you a day. Think it through while Spike starves. Okay?”

He gulped down a mouthful of saliva before nodding. “Oookay… Lord!”

"Good!" I patted Malcolm on the shoulder and, nudging my cane, slowly walked out of the area, with Finnan and Spike trailing behind soon after.

Finnan tapped on the doors, and they swung open. The workers from before entered, bowing to me once more before going back to their respective tasks. Nodding to them, I continued forward. A few feet away, I turned to Finnan.

"Will he be safe there?" I asked, concerned about how the people might react to Malcolm's presence.

"He will be safe," Finnan replied without hesitation. "No one will harm our associates, lord."

I gave a nod of approval, reassured that my ringleader would be secure until he was capable again. "Feed him well. We need him back in business as soon as possible," I instructed, picking up my pace.

"Yes, lord," Finnan accepted, matching my stride. "What about the others?"

"What others?" I raised a brow, unsure of what he was referring to.

In response, Finnan extracted a neatly folded paper from his breast pocket and unfolded it before me. There were a dozen names written on it, individuals we had already discussed capturing and bringing to me.

"I have them ready," Finnan added.

"You what?" I was taken aback by this revelation. In just one night, he had tracked down and apprehended all of them. "When did you return last night?"

"Around three in the morning," he replied, forcing an awkward grin. "Getting them all together took a bit longer than I thought."

Just who the hell was this guy? I couldn't help but wonder. Had I been underestimating him all this time, thinking of him only as a butler somehow skilled in martial arts? There was clearly more to him than met the eye. I needed to be careful, and if necessary keep him in check.

“Let’s go meet them, lord,” Finnan suggested, leading the way, and I followed after, bewildered.

A few minutes of walking later, we stood outside a large wooden structure, probably two stories high, with no one at the entrance. As we approached, Finnan pushed open the doors, and the scene that greeted me was nothing short of astounding.

“Well… That’s efficient.”