As the days passed, things gradually returned to normal on the estate. Little by little, that heavy atmosphere that seemed to afflict everyone whenever Lucius was present began to fade.

  Yes, that’s right.

  He nodded as he observed the scene unfolding before him.

  It was lunchtime, and as usual, the whole family was gathered in the dining room for the meal.

  If it had been a few days ago, no one would be saying anything—just eating in silence, as if they had just come back from a funeral. But today, the amount of conversation was substantial, which left Lucius satisfied.

  And when the meal ended, Lucius was free to attend to his own affairs.

  The progress he had made over the past few days was substantial compared to his previous progress, so he was eager to return to training.

  If this continues, it’s only a matter of time…

  Lucius shook his head. There was no point in thinking about things that had not yet happened. In any case, what he had to do would not change.

  “Young master, please wait a moment.”

  Lucius was already leaving the mansion when he heard a voice calling him. Familiar with it, he immediately knew who it was, and when he turned his gaze in that direction, his suspicion was confirmed.

  “Professor Johan, it’s been a while,” Lucius said with a slight nod.

  “Yes, it has been some time…” Johan replied somewhat hesitantly.

  It must have been about three weeks since he last saw Johan, and during that time, his former teacher had changed quite a bit. He seemed to have lost some weight, and his complexion was paler. Taken together, these small changes made him look almost like a different person.

  “Are you… feeling better?” Johan asked.

  There was a certain caution in his tone, as if he were choosing his words carefully.

  But Lucius did not immediately understand the meaning of the question—why ask if he was feeling well? Not until he remembered their last conversation.

  Ah. Right, that did happen.

  Instinctively, Lucius touched his own neck. Tracing the area with his fingers, he could feel the scar that remained there.

  The Priest who treated him had done an excellent job, but he had been unable to erase the scar completely.

  “Young master…”

  The gesture seemed to trouble Johan, who averted his gaze.

  Noticing this, Lucius lowered his hand and addressed Johan again.

  “I’m fine, professor,” he said. “Is there something you wished to speak with me about?”

  Lucius imagined that, besides checking on his condition, Johan must have had another reason for calling him.

  “Ah, yes,” Johan cleared his throat, trying to steady his expression. “I wanted to know when the young master intends to resume our lessons. Of course, I know your recovery is the most important thing, so I don’t wish to rush you, but—”

  So that’s it.

  Lucius nodded.

  “You don’t need to worry, professor. I’m already feeling much better.”

  Johan’s expression visibly brightened at his words.

  “Then do you believe you’re ready to return to your studies? I was reviewing our material and saw that if—”

  “No,” Lucius interrupted him, then immediately added, “I will not be resuming our studies, professor.”

  “Pardon?” Johan looked at him in confusion.

  “I already have enough to occupy myself with, professor, so I no longer have time for our lessons,” Lucius said, granting Johan the courtesy of a more complete explanation.

  “Young master, I understand that after everything that happened, you may harbor resentment toward me and no longer wish to have me as your teacher. In that case, we can arrange for another—”

  “Stop,” Lucius was forced to interrupt Johan again.

  If he let him continue, this topic would drag on for hours, so he had to put an end to it immediately.

  “I harbor no ill feelings toward you, professor. My decision is not born of anger or resentment—only the result of calculating what is valuable and important to me.”

  “But young master—”

  “This conversation is over,” Lucius interrupted him for the last time.

  He had already said what needed to be said, and nothing Johan could say would change his mind. So, turning his back on his former teacher, he left.

  “Does the duke know about this, young master?”

  The content of Johan’s words forced Lucius to stop in his tracks.

  He turned his gaze back to him. Johan instinctively took a few steps backward, his face pale.

  “You are free to inform my father,” Lucius said before turning and leaving.

  Leaving the mansion, he continued walking toward the estate’s entrance.

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  “Ugh, young master, don’t you think you were very rude to your professor?” Mira asked, clearly bothered.

  She had been at his side the entire time and had overheard the whole conversation between him and Johan.

  “Where exactly was I rude?” Lucius looked at Mira.

  There was no sarcasm in his tone or expression.

  “I simply laid out the facts to him and ended the conversation once its purpose had been fulfilled. At what point did I disrespect, humiliate, embarrass, or do anything that would make me… seem rude?”

  In response, Mira only stammered. She tried to argue something, but the words tangled on her tongue, and after much effort, she let out a tired sigh and gave up.

  “Are we going to stroll around the city today?” Mira asked excitedly.

  Somehow, she had ended up tasked with accompanying Lucius twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. As a result, her routine now consisted of basically sticking to him all day and watching him, which Lucius assumed must be rather tedious.

  Well, she might learn a thing or two by observing me.

  It was still too early to say for sure, but Lucius could confidently claim that the training method he had developed was the best there was—and so far, Mira was the only one privileged enough to see it in practice.

  Time will prove me right.

  He nodded to himself.

  “Young master, I heard there’s a puppet show in the city square. We could go there to—”

  “It’s here,” Lucius said, interrupting Mira.

  Turning down a narrow street, they arrived at the old man’s shop. As usual, it was completely devoid of customers.

  If it weren’t for me, this shop would have gone bankrupt long ago.

  Lucius chuckled at the thought.

  “Hm? Lucius? It’s been a while since you—”

  Tália, who was behind the counter, immediately noticed Lucius’s arrival, but when her gaze fell on Mira, her voice froze and her expression hardened.

  “Who is that?” she asked in a far from friendly tone.

  “She’s my personal servant,” Lucius said, immediately seeing that his answer did nothing to please Tália.

  “Heh, so you’re one of those spoiled rich brats, huh?” she said disdainfully.

  “What did you say?! Take that back right now!”

  The one who flared up wasn’t Lucius, but Mira. Judging by her red face and clenched fists, she looked like the one who had been insulted.

  “And why would I take it back?”

  Tália leaned forward over the counter in a challenging manner.

  “In my view, anyone who walks around with a personal maid can only be a spoiled rich brat,” she said with a mocking smile.

  “You…!”

  Mira took a step forward, fists clenched as if ready to lunge at Tália.

  “What? Want to fight? You think I’m scared?”

  Tália vaulted over to this side of the counter, also ready to charge at Mira.

  Why?

  That was the only thing on Lucius’s mind. The initial insult had seemed directed at him, but the situation had escalated until the two of them were now in their own world, completely ignoring his existence.

  “That’s enough,” he said.

  Both girls immediately turned their attention to him—Mira with an indignant look and Tália with a furious one. Lucius did not back down, and the three stared at each other in silence for several seconds, until the girls’ expressions finally calmed and they “retreated.”

  “Where’s the old man?” Lucius asked.

  “I’m here, I’m here,” said a voice from the other side of the door behind the counter.

  The next moment, the door opened and the old man stepped out. He was wearing a worn, battered apron, completely stained with a green liquid that gave off such a foul smell it immediately filled the entire shop.

  “Heavens, I step out for one minute and it looks like you’re about to tear my shop apart,” the old man said irritably. “I could hear you yelling all the way from the back.”

  The old man’s gaze then fixed on Lucius.

  “This is your fault, boy. Somehow, whenever you’re around, trouble follows.”

  He’s joking… right?

  Lucius looked at the old man in disbelief. Or was it possible that the man in front of him was starting to go senile?

  “Ahem, anyway, what do you want, boy?” the old man asked, gesturing impatiently for Lucius to speak. “I’m busy, so get on with it.”

  “I need more of your medicinal paste.”

  His answer made the old man look at him with a strange, suspicious expression.

  “You already want more?”

  The old man stepped closer, nearly pressing up against Lucius, scanning him from head to toe.

  “Last time, you took a whole bag of it. How have you already used it all? You weren’t selling it on the side, were you?”

  The accusation would have been offensive if it weren’t so absurd. Lucius almost laughed.

  “And do you really think I need money?”

  What Lucius treated as simple logic, the old man took as a personal insult.

  “What?! Are you saying my paste is cheap?! You brat, know that it’s worth a fortune!” the old man shouted, his face red with anger. “People would kill for it!”

  “Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” Lucius said, stepping back. The old man’s smell was truly unbearable. “I was only trying to illustrate the absurdity of your accusation.”

  The old man accepted the explanation, though he still looked dissatisfied.

  “Next time, use a better example. You almost became my enemy.”

  Crossing behind the counter, the old man went to the back of the shop and soon returned with a jar filled with his medicinal paste.

  “Here. This is the last one I have, so you’d better use it sparingly—it’ll take me a while to make more,” the old man said with a scowl.

  His words did not please Lucius.

  This is problematic.

  Now that his training had accelerated, he was using increasingly larger quantities of the old man’s paste. This amount would barely last a few weeks.

  “What happened?” Lucius asked. “Is it about the price? If so, I can pay more.”

  Lucius pulled another pouch of coins from his pocket, but this only irritated the old man, who shoved the pouch back at him.

  “Do you think money is the only thing that interests me?”

  Well, you certainly seemed very interested in money when you made me go back to that bar just to recover a few coins that were stolen from you.

  Lucius laughed inwardly. In truth, he understood that, at the time, it had been a matter of principle for the old man—the stolen money itself mattered little.

  “Then if it’s not money, what do you need?” Lucius asked.

  “What do I need?” The old man cast him a disdainful look. “Brat, as if you could—”

  The words died in the old man’s mouth. His arrogant expression was replaced by a contemplative one. Scratching his chin, he alternated his gaze between Lucius and Mira, and finally to Tália, who frowned with a bad feeling.

  “Well, actually, maybe there is something you can do after all,” the old man said, pulling Lucius closer and speaking low enough that only he could hear. “Come by later so we can discuss it properly—alone.”

  At the last part, the old man’s gaze briefly flicked toward Tália before returning to Lucius.

  He wants to keep this a secret from her?

  Lucius concluded.

  “All right,” he nodded.

  Five out of ten parts of his training depended on the old man’s medicinal paste, so as much as possible, he was willing to satisfy the old man’s requests.

  Well, it would be different if I knew the recipe.

  Lucius mused. If that were the case, he wouldn’t have to keep dealing with this troublesome old man.

  But I doubt he would hand over the recipe willingly.

  That is—willingly. Lucius looked at his hands.

  No, even then, the way the old man is…

  His gaze then shifted to Tália, who raised an eyebrow in response.

  “What is it…?”

  “No, it’s nothing,” Lucius shook his head before speaking to the old man again. “Well then, I’ll be going now.”

  “Yes, yes,” the old man waved impatiently, then added, “Don’t forget to come back later.”

  “I won’t forget, relax.”

  Turning around, Lucius gestured for Mira to follow him, and the two left the shop.

  “Ugh, I didn’t like that girl, young master,” Mira said with a sulky expression.

  “Yeah, I noticed.”

  “So annoying. Did you see the way she spoke about you? I really didn’t like that.”

  “She wasn’t serious,” Lucius said with a shrug.

  But his answer didn’t seem to please Mira, who looked at him accusingly.

  “You’re really going to take her side, young master?” Thinking of something absurd, Mira’s cheeks reddened. “C-could it be that you’re in love with her, young master?”

  Excuse me?

  Lucius looked at Mira.

  “O-of course not, right? There’s no way the young master would like a rude girl like that,” she said with a nervous smile, scratching her head.

  “Let’s go,” Lucius said, resuming his walk.

  There were still things to take care of before returning to the estate.