Suddenly, his eyes lit up. He turned to Tia and whispered, “Tia, go steal me a little something to eat. He won’t notice.”

  Tia shook her head. “It’s no use. Mr. Glenn hid all the food. I searched everywhere after he left—there’s not a crumb left in the house.”

  Her small plan had failed completely.

  This little girl really does care for her master, Glenn thought, biting into a piece of bread he’d claimed for himself, but if she thinks she can deceive me, she should just go to bed early. He deliberately took another exaggerated bite to tease her.

  The next instant, Glenn appeared from nowhere and snatched the bread away.

  Laville, who had just awakened, wasn’t so much hungry as he was weak. His limbs felt drained, his responses sluggish.

  He pressed a hand to his growling stomach, sat up slowly, and bent forward in an attempt to dull the ache of hunger. It helped only slightly. Pride still burned faintly in his chest—one day without food was hardly enough to break him.

  But the light in his eyes had dimmed.

  “Young master,” Tia reminded him gently as she helped him wash up, “Mr. Glenn has gone out. He said that if you still refuse to work today, you’ll go hungry again.”

  “I’ll never obey him!” Laville swore fiercely.

  Just then, the sound of wheels echoed through the misty morning. A magnificent carriage, ornate with intricate patterns, rolled into town from beyond the fog, radiating an aura of mystery.

  The clatter of hooves broke the quiet air—both Tia and Laville turned toward the window, startled by the sound.

  Fatigue, however, soon triumphed over hunger, and Laville drifted into an uneasy sleep, curled up on the hard bed until Tia’s voice roused him the next morning.

  This time, she wore a dark violet mage’s robe tailored elegantly to her frame, cinched at the waist, and adorned with a gleaming silver insignia upon her chest. A ruby pendant shimmered at her throat, and jeweled ornaments graced her wrists and ears. The moment she stepped into the light, she seemed to shine.

  “It’s nothing,” the old man grunted without turning his head. “The boy doesn’t seem to be home.”

  Devar stepped down from the carriage, her eyes sweeping the surroundings as she clicked her tongue softly.

  “So this is the legendary Bayek Town? Just as the records describe—chaos lurking in every corner, and the stench of corruption thick in the air.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  She closed her eyes briefly, as though sensing something unseen, then opened them again. “There are many dangerous beings nearby. How can they coexist so peacefully? It defies reason. Aren’t you afraid, Bohr?”

  “Not unless you go poking at them,” the old man replied lazily. “I’ve lived here nearly five years without trouble.”

  “I’m not the kind of reckless mage who rushes in without thought,” she said coolly. “You’d do well to remember that.”

  “Enough talk,” the old man interrupted, waving a hand. “I have a feeling the boy’s not home.” He pointed toward Glenn’s house.

  Devar looked in that direction, murmured a brief incantation, and soon had a sense of what lay within.

  “Only two children inside—around fifteen or sixteen. No one else.”

  “Then let’s ask them.” The old man started forward.

  “Wait.” Devar’s voice stopped him. “There’s a large dog watching us from the fog.”

  Bohr squinted into the mist but saw nothing. “That’s probably the boy’s pet. Ignore it. It won’t attack.”

  Devar said nothing more, and together they approached the house.

  Inside, Tia and Laville huddled behind the door, trembling. The old man’s towering figure and fierce expression had terrified them both.

  “Y-young master,” Tia whispered, her voice shaking, “do you think that old man… eats people? The way he looked at us—it was so scary.”

  Her words made Laville even paler. His body was already weak from hunger, and now fear made his knees buckle.

  “Shut up! Why did Mother send such a useless maid with me?” he hissed.

  Tia bit her lip and fell silent, eyes glistening.

  Knock, knock.

  Two heavy knocks on the door made them both jump. They clamped their hands over their mouths, terrified of making a sound.

  But their silence was useless.

  “I know you’re in there, little ones!” The old man’s hoarse yet booming voice shook the walls. “Open the door—I just want to ask you something. If you make me come in, I won’t be so polite!”

  “So many years have passed, and your temper’s still the same,” came a smooth, melodious voice that cut through his growl. “They’re just children. Step aside—I’ll handle this.”

  A moment later, the door creaked open on its own.

  Startled, the two children looked up to see a woman of breathtaking grace and beauty—a mage whose every gesture exuded nobility and warmth.

  “Don’t be afraid, children,” Devar said gently. “May I ask you a few questions?”

  Her soothing tone and radiant presence melted their fear, and they nodded before they even realized it.

  Moments later, Devar and Bohr sat in Glenn’s modest living room.

  “So, that troublesome boy went to Dudd to do business?” Bohr asked.

  Tia and Laville nodded timidly.

  “Will he return today?” the old man continued.

  “He should, sir,” Tia whispered.

  Bohr glanced at Devar. “Are you planning to wait here for him?”

  Devar lifted her chin slightly. “I didn’t come all this way to leave empty-handed.”

  “Suit yourself. I’m off to fetch my dog from a friend’s place.”

  “Take care,” she replied lightly.

  Once the old man had gone, Devar turned to Laville, her gaze thoughtful. “You look like a noble’s son. How did you end up like this? You haven’t eaten in a day, have you? Did that boy, Glenn, mistreat you on purpose?”

  Meanwhile, outside, Bohr muttered to himself, “Two children? How curious…”

  From behind him came Devar’s teasing voice, smooth as velvet: “What’s the matter, Bohr? Has the carriage ride rattled your old bones?”

  The children peeked through the door again, eyes wide at the sight of the extravagant carriage and its elegant passengers. Even the horse that drew it seemed proud, casting them a disdainful glance as it passed.

  Tia, knowing Glenn’s strictness, had tried to help in secret—slipping Laville a piece of bread when she thought no one was watching.

  Later that night, Laville lay awake on the hard boards of his bed, the ache of hunger twisting his gut as strange noises drifted in from outside, turning his sleeplessness into torment.