novelraw Chapter 154 154: Keep going
Chapter 154 154: Keep going
Silas did not answer right away.
A few minutes before that question was asked.
When the atmosphere in the Baron's study was still relatively cold, it was Lucas who broke the deadlock first.
He straightened from his relaxed posture and spoke in an almost casual tone.
"By the way, regarding the agreement for the farmland transaction," he said,
"I'll be the one setting the contract."
Baron Voss immediately raised an eyebrow.
"A new contract?" he repeated quietly.
Silas's gaze sharpened as well, though his smile never left his face.
"Oh? Is there a change in price, Young Master?"
Lucas shook his head lightly.
"Same price. Same quantity. It's not even long."
He raised one finger.
"Just one simple clause I want to add."
Lucas smiled broadly.
The room fell silent.
Lucas looked straight at Silas, his voice calm, too calm for a young man facing a representative of the Merchants' Guild.
"One day before the transaction," he said,
"the buyer must be present at Voss Town Square."
Silas blinked.
"…Town Square?"
"Yes," Lucas nodded.
"The reason's simple. To avoid delays. No excuses about the weather. No excuses about bad roads. No 'we got lost for a bit.'"
Baron Voss slowly leaned back in his chair.
He had already understood.
So had Silas.
That old smile finally cracked, just slightly, but enough.
Town Square meant the city center. That single, simple clause was enough to kill Silas's entire scheme of exploiting distant locations to manipulate the existing contract.
Silas exhaled slowly through his nose.
Clever little bastard.
Lucas continued lightly, as if he were merely discussing tea plans.
"If that's too troublesome, we can just cancel. I wouldn't mind."
Silas clenched his fingers briefly, then relaxed them again. His smile returned—this time noticeably stiff.
"…No," he said at last.
"That makes sense. The Merchants' Guild would not waste this opportunity."
Baron Voss glanced at him briefly.
Lucas nodded in satisfaction.
"Good."
He tilted his head slightly.
"So… what do you think?"
Silas let out a soft sigh, like a man who had just lost at the gambling table but was still trying to look graceful.
"I agree."
Baron Voss looked as though he was about to speak—but Silas cut in first, quickly, as if eager to end the topic before things grew worse.
"When will the contract be drawn up?"
Lucas answered without hesitation.
"Now."
Silence fell.
Baron Voss stared at Lucas in surprise—not at his boldness, but at his timing.
"…Now?" he repeated.
Silas also fell quiet for a moment.
Then—
He chuckled.
The laugh of an old man who had just realized he was facing an opponent not to be underestimated.
"Remarkable," he said honestly.
"I thought you would wait until tomorrow."
Lucas shrugged.
"Why wait?"
Silas studied him for a long moment, then nodded.
"Very well," he said.
"With such short notice… the transaction becomes cleaner."
Baron Voss finally allowed himself a faint smile.
He tapped the desk once.
"In that case, allow me to draft the contract."
Baron Voss wasted no time.
He immediately pulled out a blank sheet of paper, dipped his pen into the ink, and began to write with a steady hand—far too steady for someone who had just redirected a major transaction.
The study fell silent.
There was no sound but the scratch of pen against parchment and the ticking of the wall clock, which felt louder than usual.
Silas stood there in silence, but his mind was racing.
Strange…
His eyes moved back and forth between Baron Voss and Lucas.
Too… harmonious.
There was no argument.
No tension typical of a father and son.
Not even the slightest trace of an old nobleman feeling "ashamed" or "disappointed" in his depraved heir—just as the rumors had always claimed.
Instead—
Baron Voss looked calm.
Focused.
Even… trusting.
That was what unsettled Silas.
It shouldn't have been like this.
He knew men like Baron Voss. Old nobles who measured everything by reputation and stability, not emotion. He should have kept his distance from a son who stained the family name—not stood beside him as an equal in negotiation.
Something was wrong.
When the Baron's pen finally stopped, he blew lightly on the ink and slid the paper forward.
"Please review it," he said briefly.
Silas stepped closer and read each line carefully.
No traps.
No wordplay.
The clauses were clean, fair, with only a single clause that destroyed his plan. The rest were standard.
He nodded slowly.
"Very well," he said.
He reached into his pocket and produced a small metal seal engraved with the symbol of the Merchants' Guild. With a practiced motion, he pressed it onto the bottom of the contract.
A neat, dark-red imprint bloomed on the page.
Baron Voss did not hesitate.
He opened a desk drawer and took out the family seal—Lucian Voss's seal.
Lucas extended his hand.
The Baron paused for a fraction of a second… then handed it over.
Lucas pressed the seal himself.
The final mark fell.
Done.
By the time they left the study, the sky beyond the windows was fully dark. City lanterns lit one by one, their glow reflecting off the stone streets of Voss Town.
Silas bowed politely.
"Thank you for your time."
Lucas merely nodded once.
Baron Voss looked at Silas for a moment longer, then said, "I wish you a pleasant journey."
Silas returned a thin smile before turning to leave.
---
In front of the manor, a wagon was already waiting.
Lilia stood beside it, her small cloak neatly fastened. She turned at once when she saw Silas approach.
"Sir Silas."
Silas climbed into the wagon and said to the driver, "We'll stay the night in Voss Town."
The driver nodded and flicked the reins.
The wagon wheels began to roll, leaving the manor behind, now bathed in lantern light.
Inside the wagon, Silas leaned back, gazing into the darkness beyond the window.
Strange…
Based on the rumors.
Based on his own past observations.
Young Master Lucian Voss should have been nothing more than a spoiled, foolish child—living off his family name, drifting without purpose or depth.
But what he had seen today—
Didn't fit.
Didn't align.
That manner of speaking.
That sense of timing.
That calm certainty when setting the clause.
It wasn't coincidence.
"…Has he changed?" Silas murmured softly.
His thoughts drifted far back, deep into the past.
A small village burned by bandits.
Screams.
Blood.
Loss.
He remembered losing his wife and daughter, watching them die before his eyes.
After that, he was dragged away, sold, living as a slave—passed from hand to hand like an object.
Until one day… a member of the Merchants' Guild found him.
Gave him work.
Gave him a choice.
Silas let out a long breath.
"A past like that…" he thought, "…must never be repeated for the children I now support."
A small voice broke his reverie.
"Sir Silas…"
He turned.
"Hm?"
"We're visiting the orphanage this week, right?"
Silas smiled gently.
"Of course, Lilia."
Lilia hesitated, then asked softly, "Was… that Young Master troublesome for you?"
"A little," Silas answered honestly, with a faint smile.
Lilia lowered her gaze.
Silas folded his arms. "Lilia… what about your friend?"
He studied her troubled expression.
"She's fine," Lilia said at last, though her tone lacked certainty.
Silas chuckled softly—warm, deliberately light.
"Baroness Voss is known for her kindness," he said. "At the very least… you can trust that she'll take good care of your friend."
Lilia clutched her small cloak and nodded slowly.
The wagon continued on through the night of Voss Town—while inside it, two generations pondered the same things.
Children.
Change.
And a future that did not always follow rumor.
Meanwhile, the man who had once sold the Stones of Staboyonaz to Aldric—Boran, the black-market merchant—sat motionless in one of the brothel's most secluded back rooms.
An oil lamp flickered softly in the corner, its shadow stretching along the wooden walls. The window curtains were drawn tight. Even the laughter from downstairs sounded distant—muffled, as if the outside world had been deliberately kept away from him.
Since Aldric was arrested…
Since that cursed artifact was exposed…
He had never felt this calm.
And that was exactly what made Boran uneasy.
He dragged a rough hand down his face.
"Damn it…"
The door opened without a knock.
Liria stepped inside at an easy pace, carrying a small tray with simple food. She set it on the table without any particular expression.
"You're looking thinner," she said flatly.
"Because I can't go anywhere," Boran snapped back. "And because of your prices."
Liria raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Prices haven't changed."
Boran shot her a sharp look.
"I'm just hiding here. I didn't rent the whole damn brothel."
"Don't be stupid," Liria replied calmly.
"Aldric's name is everywhere. Cursed artifacts. Investigations. People are starting to look for the source."
Boran clenched his fists on his lap.
"…You know I can't leave," he said in a low voice.
"So why are you squeezing me like this, huh?"
Liria crossed her arms.
"Hey," she said coldly,
"do you know the risk of harboring a criminal?"
That tone made Boran's blood boil.