116: Chapter 78: New and Old Resentments 116: Chapter 78: New and Old Resentments Martial law, lockdown, city gates closed, squad after squad of cavalry rode urgently through the various passes of the Western Port, and all ships that were about to or had just set sail were stopped at the dock.
Descriptions of the “Son of Dawson” and his entourage’s appearances and characteristics were sent by fast-riding cavalry to nearby counties.
Meanwhile, inside the castle atop the cliff, chaos reigned.
Numerous Kantadar nobles were unceremoniously ordered to stay in their rooms and forbidden from leaving.
The wedding had just ended.
The bride had mysteriously disappeared.
It was a resounding slap in the face to the Felcon Family.
But even the furious reproach of the allied Salain Family at the base of the hall’s stairs was not the most troubling issue for the Count Felcon seated on the throne.
The tightly closed doors were violently flung open.
Two Cloak Knights, who had been standing at the door, were sent flying inside.
Their fully armored tall figures clanged and rolled on the floor before they angrily used their swords to push themselves up.
A Black Robed Mage, his face full of fury, strode into the hall leaning on a Magic Wand, with armored soldiers in black following behind him, menacingly lining up beside the mage.
The Atiyas people had no regard for this domain symbolizing the lord’s authority.
The guards beside the throne pressed their hands on the hilts of their swords, blades slightly drawn, eyes filled with murderous intent looking down at the foreign wizard and soldiers below.
Count Felcon waved his hand towards the Chief Guard beside him.
Although displeased with the arrogance of these Atiyas people trampling on his authority, the count also knew he was in the wrong before his financier.
After all, Master Piriyeno had indeed met a tragic death within his own castle.
“What, with all this commotion, are you planning to go to war with the Western Port?”
Count Felcon, resting his chin on his hand, swept his gaze over the wizard below: “Master Emon, have I given you too much respect routinely…
that you now dare to be so presumptuous before me?”
“My lord, I need an explanation.”
Emon, gripping his Magic Wand and gritting his teeth in anger, exclaimed: “The guards said that the last to enter the embassy yesterday was a young Kantadar noble with his entourage; I demand a thorough investigation of your invited guests.”
Count Felcon’s headache grew worse upon hearing this.
The other party was correct, the prime suspect indeed might have come from the nobles visiting the castle.
He had already locked down and searched all the visitors at the castle, thus, he naturally knew which ones had disappeared amidst this sudden chaos.
“There’s no need to disturb my other guests, as the individuals who had contact with Master Piriyeno and his entourage before his death have already disappeared.
Not only could they be the culprits behind the murder of your mentor, but they have also shamelessly stolen my son’s bride,” Count Felcon responded with contained fury, recalling the young Son of Dawson he had once briefly met.
Of course, now there was a question as to whether that young man was truly the Baron of Leding Castle’s son.
Promising to broadcast a warrant to the nearby lords and immediately deploy troops to inspect the paths, Count Felcon finally managed to dismiss the enraged Atiyas mage…
Afterward, Emon expressionlessly returned to the empty embassy.
Once calm, he revisited his mentor’s room.
The gruesomely deceased body of his beloved had already been taken care of.
Enduring his grief, Emon started examining the clues around them.
The mangled door panels and the hole that pierced the opposite stone wall.
While the damage might be shocking to the layperson, Emon knew that under normal conditions his mentor could handle this kind of attack.
It was clearly a sneaky attack when the mentor had lowered his Protective Magic.
And from the fact that the Magic Wand in the body’s hand hadn’t even had time to activate the Pre-set Spell, the murderer must have known as well the teacher’s preferences and moments of relaxation as he himself did.
Although all the slaves had disappeared, these female slaves couldn’t possibly understand the magic on the mentor.
Nor would they dare to attack the mentor, risking triggering the Blood Oath Curse.
The only slave who could know how to disarm the Magic Spell was one.
“Kovis, I knew it was you,” he spat out the name bitterly.
Emon knew, that damned Magic Slave, even if not the assailant, must have been an accomplice!
It didn’t matter if he was an accomplice or not…
The Black Robed Mage closed his eyes, positioned the Magic Wand in front of him, and quietly recited a tracking spell.
Summoning the backup he had prepared for many years.
After a long while, Emon reopened his eyes.
He briskly walked to the window, pulled out a whistle, and blew a piercing sound.
The Warhorse in the courtyard, hearing its master’s call, immediately took flight.
Jumping directly onto the Warhorse from the window, Emon steered his mount to fly over the heads of the soldiers.
“Go tell Count Felcon to have his men chase north along the path!”
After giving the order, Emon urged the Warhorse to ascend, soaring towards the direction indicated by his magic power.
Following the wild northern path, the three leading noble Warhorses paused at a creek.
Though their abundant stamina was far from exhausted.
Tired Leon and others had to slow down their pace of escape.
The reason was nothing else.
The other two horses carrying Kovis and Elena could barely keep up anymore.
Both Warhorses they were riding were bought for a hefty sum by Lokhak yesterday afternoon at the Western Port.
But the Urian steeds found last minute in the market could hardly keep up with the extraordinary pace of the three noble Warhorses.