His gaze swept across, making many people nervous.
Ronan saw faces, both familiar and strange, as mories churned in his mind, until finally...
His eyes ca to rest upon a beautiful woman who stared back at him intently, her lips pressed tightly, her eyes filled with a fervent emotion that she struggled to conceal.
Ronan’s eyes flickered slightly as he walked step by step towards the beautiful woman.
When he stood in front of her, he spoke softly: "Mother..."
In an instant, tears flooded the beautiful woman’s eyes, and she embraced him, weeping loudly with abandon.
...
Night fell, and the castle’s banquet hall was well-lit.
A red cloth adorned the luxurious long table, laden with an array of foods.
Ronan quietly savored each dish before him, closing his eyes after each bite to pause and relish the flavors.
Molli’er sat beside him, heartily indulging in her al without a hint of nobility.
Count Ferries and a dignified beautiful woman with chestnut hair tied up sat still without touching their knives and forks, simply watching the two of them.
When Ronan finished the last dish he had been longing for from his mories, he let out a soft sigh.
At the mont he set down his utensils, he seed to beco even more "crystal clear" from the inside out, a wonder that only Ronan himself could feel.
"Ro... Ronan."
Seeing Ronan finished his al, Count Ferries tentatively called out his na from across the table.
Having not seen his son for six years, who had returned with an unstoppable powerful aura, he had yet to find a fitting role for himself in this "strange" relationship.
"Father, please speak."
Ronan looked at Count Ferries calmly as he uttered, the latter, however, seed rather restrained.
"I have given orders, starting from tomorrow, everyone from the Damien Family will co to see you one by one... And the painter you asked for is also on his way..."
Count Ferries brought up the tasks assigned by Ronan one by one. Had an uninford bystander been present, they might not have recognized this as a father-son conversation—it resembled more a subordinate reporting to a superior.
Ronan was well aware of this, but he did not care.
From the mont he stepped into the castle, mories of his predecessor "Ronan" had been continuously presenting him with all manner of bizarre and intricate revelations.
If these matters were all to be written down, it would make for a very long list of "last wishes."
And he could only patiently see each one through.
After Count Ferries finished listing the last matter, he looked at Ronan, hesitating before saying, "Now that you are back, will you leave again?"
"Of course."
Ronan nodded, "I can only stay for a while, and after I leave this ti, it will probably be a long ti before I return... However, before I leave, I will try my best to arrange everything."
A look of disappointnt appeared on Count Ferries’ face.
Although he did not know much about wizards, judging from the witch from the Heroic Wind Adventure Team’s almost reverential attitude towards Ronan, his second son had potentially reached a significant height in the world of wizards.
If he were to stay, Ferries couldn’t even begin to imagine how prosperous the Damien Family would beco.
Unfortunately...
A soft sobbing sound rose in the hall.
Ronan turned his head and quietly watched the dignified beautiful woman at the side of the long table, drying her tears with a handkerchief.
He thought for a mont and could not help but address her, "Mother..."
The beautiful woman stopped crying and looked up at him with red eyes.
"Where is Lil?"
Ronan asked, naming soone.
Count Ferries had seven wives, and during the six years of Ronan’s absence, this number had grown to twelve.
He had many children, and in the vast Damien Family, the person Ronan’s predecessor cared about the most, apart from Count Ferries and his own mother, was probably his little sister Lil, who had always been close to him since they were young.
While in the Southern lands, he often received letters from her, and the last one he received even ntioned that she was nearly engaged.
Lil was also one of the predecessor "Ronan’s" most intense obsessions.
However, upon returning this ti, Ronan hadn’t seen her yet, and he guessed that she might have already married; the timing would fit just right.
Yet, faced with Ronan’s question, the dignified beautiful woman suddenly fell silent.
Count Ferries’ expression also turned sowhat peculiar.
As Ronan sensed sothing was wrong and slightly furrowed his brows, he heard Count Ferries sigh softly and say, "Lil died... last sumr."
In an instant, within the brightly lit hall that was as clear as day, all of the candlelight seed to dim.
The atmosphere in the hall abruptly beca incredibly oppressive.
Molli’er, who had been eating all along, suddenly stopped and lifted her head to look at Ronan with a strange look in her eyes.
Under the dim light, Ronan’s face showed no sign of emotion, appearing utterly calm.
Yet at this mont,
Molli’er felt as though she heard the crisp sound of sothing shattering quietly at the bottom of her heart.
...
Days in the Earl’s Domain passed by like a river in late autumn, full of fallen leaves, slowly and quietly flowing.
This was a departure from previous years when the Damien Family prepared for the "Winter Hunting" to celebrate the harvest, a usually festive scene.
The entire castle beca "quiet," and those living inside made sure to lower their voices when speaking to each other, and to tread more slowly, as if they were afraid of disturbing soone.
The sunlight on an autumn afternoon shone through the dark green ivy leaves onto the walls, but it lacked warmth.
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