The Lord Is Too Overbearing

Somewhere in Fortescher County, Charles, who had been concocting the antidote for the poison that was in his bloodstream, finally finished it. Like Basil, he had also been racing against time.

The poison that had been gradually destroying his body from the inside only allowed him to live for two hours. It was already more than two hours since he got the poison, and because of that, almost all of his skin had turned blue.

Due to his magnificent control over his Mana, he managed to slow down the spreading of the poison. That was actually a gamble on his side; the poison in his body was stimulated by the usage of Mana after all.

Luckily, he won the bet, thus why he could get away with just having a blue skin.

"That accursed brat!" Charles hissed as he picked up the bottle that contained the antidote he had made. "How dare he humiliate me this way? I will definitely pay him a hundredfold worse!"

For any other people, unless they were an Eighth Circle Mage, if they had been Charles, they wouldn't call what Basil had done to them as an attempt of humiliation. They would call it a murder attempt.

Not many people were as talented as Charles. For him, finding an antidote for such a potent poison in less than three hours was possible; it would be close to impossible for any other people.

Anyone other than him would think about how hard it was to create the antidote. Him, on the other hand, thought about how unsightly he had looked while he was concocting the antidote.

Gulp. Gulp.

Drinking the antidote in one go, Charles immediately threw the bottle to the ground. The bottle immediately shattered upon contact, and the antidote took effect at the same time.

"Kuugh... That little turd! I will not let him go!"

Charles groaned as he felt the antidote cleansing all of the poison in his bloodstream. He regulated the antidote with his Mana, and brought it to his heart to cleanse the poison that managed to reach there.

His insides felt burned—it was as if someone had injected a boiling water into his veins. It was excruciating, however he didn't thrash around.

He knew doing that would be futile. In addition to that, he could also visibly see what the antidote dod to his body; he was too fascinated by how it worked to thrash around.

"Huuh... I can finally feel my hand again." After a few minutes, Charles' retained his original skin color. "Now that I think about it, that brat is able to create such a potent poison at that age ... He is talented."

After he cleansed all of the posion off his body, Charles' lost his ferocious look. His face turned neutral—he looked as unreadable as he usually was.

Straightening his clothes that had been crumpled while he was concocting the antidote, he took out his Transmission Talisman. He infused his Mana into it, and sent a message to his disciple in Southevile Viscountcy.

"How is it going?" Was the simple message he sent.

[The Mages are all asking about your whereabouts, Master. They are starting to get suspicious of you, since they can't find Chester anywhere.]

The reply came quickly, but it wasn't the reply he wanted

"Tsk. Why do they have to turn attentive suddenly?" Charles clicked his tongue in distaste. "I could just order Ione to go there and impersonate Chester if she was here; however, not only she is not here, she has also betrayed me."

Frowning, Charles muttered, "I should have put my Slave Mark on her." Sighing lightly, he shrugged. "Alas, the die has been cast. She earned the right to not be marked due to my promise—it was all on me."

When Charles encountered Ione for the first time, he could immediately tell she was a loose cannon. He still took the chance to bet however, and everything had been going smoothly until her coincidental encounter with Basil.

He had given her the right to Act independently due to her skill. Ione was the only disciple he had that had managed to almost land a hit on him.

She had earned the right to not be marked that way, and now Charles regretted he had ever made the promise. He was a realist however; he was quick to move on, and stop thinking about the if onlys.

Boom!

As Charles materialized his seven Grand Circles, he immediately quick cast a Motion Spell on himself. He kicked the ground in the next second, flashing through the ground faster than one's eye could blink.

He was rushing to Southevile Viscountcy, so he could somehow salvage the situation. He couldn't let the Mages to figure out that something was wrong this soon, since it would mess up all of his plans.

He had spent quite a lot of effort to take over Southevile Viscountcy. It had also been a tough job to look for the 9999 virgins to be sacrificed, so he didn't want his effort end up in vain.

He had done all of them to utilize one Artefact—Red Coffin. He hadn't been able to utilize it even though he had fulfilled all of the conditions to utilize it; it would be maddening to lose it after all of his effort.

Because of that, the Mages in the Southevile Viscountcy couldn't know his identity yet.

"Tsk. What should I do to convince those old men that Chester's disappearance has nothing to do with me?" Charles frowned. "I guess I will have Tristan accompany them to look for Chester together."

Although their Bewitchment skill was nowhere near as good as Ione's, due to [Reality Altercation] that Charles had cast, he and his disciple, Tristan, could still fool every Mage stationed in Southevile.

Of course, now that the truth was close to be revealed, he didn't want to spend his time any longer in Southevile Viscountcy. This is the reason why he planned to have his disciple impersonate him as soon as he arrived.

He would then have his disciple convince the Mages he didn't have anything to do with Chester's disappearance by accompanying them to look for Chester. During this time, Charles would be utilizing Red Coffin.

After Red Coffin did its thing—after he gained the benefit of using it—he would leave the Mages and Southevile behind. He would then seek for Basil, and pay him back for what he had done.

The plan was simple; however, after having one of his plans spoiled by the unexpected, Charles prevented himself from thinking that things would go smoothly. He would be more careful and decisive this time.

...

Southevile Viscountcy, Southevile Manor.

"We do believe you wholeheartedly, Viscount Redford; however, we can't help doubting your son. It is hard to think he is still the good kid we knew after what we saw 10 years ago."

"I understand your concern, Master Blake. You can rest assured however; I am sure it is much simpler than what you think."

"Master Averill..."

Blake was confronting "Redford" about Chester's disappearance, meanwhile Averill was trying to calm him down. He was insistent that Charles must have done something to Chester.

Ironically, Averill also didn't fully believe what he said. He was, after all, merely being considerate to Redford who was giving them a forlorn look.

He had a son himself, and he would definitely look like that if someone suspected his son was a criminal. He sympathized with Redford—thus why he had said words he himself didn't believe.

"I am sorry, I can't say much, except trust me." Redford bowed politely. "My son has a bad reputation, but I can assure you he is nowhere near what the rumours you have heard describe him to be. I know him well."

Blake smiled bitterly as soon as he saw Redford bow once again. He didn't want to make someone he admired bow, however he also didn't want to lose the young man that was like a son to him.

He had seen Chester grow from a Beginner Spellcaster to a Senior Spellcaster; he had also been the one who invited Chester to teach at Stardust Academy. It was hard for him to not get agitated when he thought about the possibility of Chester being dead.

"I need you to show Viscount Redford some consideration, Master Blake." Averill pulled Blake aside. "I very well understand your concern, however you should also understand that Viscount Redford has nothing to do with it."

"I am not so sure about it now, Master Averill." Blake looked at Averill bitterly. "Despite having the aura of a warrior, have you seen him fight with us once or, for some instances, being near the battlefield?"

"It has nothing to do with—"

"Have you seen the lady of the household? What about the daughter, and the citizens? Have you encountered any of them?" Blake shook his head. "All I have encountered have been maids and all of them look frightened."

Averill was a little bit overwhelmed. After hearing Blake's argument, despite being one of Redford's closest friends, he could not help doubting Redford.

He still believed that Redford didn't have any hand in it however. Even if it was the case, he believed everything was under the force of Charles.

"I think you are just overthinking, Master Blake," Averill said calmly. "We have encountered many of the citizens for the past few days. You can't just doubt everything after what happened three hours ago."

"Look for them." Blake stared into Averill's eyes solemnly. "Look for them, and tell me how many of them are real."

Frowning lightly in confusion, Averill immediately spread his Mana Sense to scan the area. He wanted to prove Blake wrong, so he sensed the presence of all of the citizens around the area.

What he found however made his eyes bulge outward. He almost couldn't hold himself back from cursing as he found how small the amount of people in the area he could sense.

'Where are the crowds that we have seen a few hours before?' Averill asked to himself. 'What have we been seeing for all this time?'

As he turned his gaze to Blake, he noticed Blake widening his eyes in shock. His eyes immediately darkened, but he was immediately assaulted with a violent Mana Pressure even before he turned around.

"Step aside or die—choose wisely, people."

Charles had finally arrived at Southevile Viscountcy. He had decided to stop being discreet about his deeds after hearing a pleasant news from Goap.