A new gravestone had been erected on the back hill.
Raymond’s hand, clad in a snow-white glove, brushed over the cold stone, wiping away the morning dew and fallen leaves.
The stone was common bluestone, the most frequent find on the hill.
The craftsmanship of the carving was hardly exquisite.
However, the handwriting was bold and powerful, every stroke carrying a stubborn refusal to yield.
"Bernhaveis."
Below the name was an empty grave.
The news from the young master had arrived three days ago, containing only a few sentences.
One of them was: "Bernhaveis, not found."
Not found.
In that deep sea that swallowed everything, "not found" was a synonym for death.
Not even a single bone could be recovered from that azure purgatory.
So, Raymond had done it himself, hauling the stone and picking up the chisel to carve this monument for his old friend.
In his youth, these hands were accustomed to gripping a longsword, having touched more blood than wine.
Later, following the old master, he learned to manage the manor, prune flowers, and handle troubles in the shadows.
Now, he had learned to carve gravestones.
The old master was gone.
Bernhaveis, that old comrade, was gone too.
Of those who had stood by the old master’s side back then, how many were left?
Raymond gazed at the cold stone as if asking an old friend who would never answer.
"Is it my turn next?"
The moment the thought arose, he rejected it in his heart.
It wasn't a matter of "should it be."
Rather... when will it finally be my turn?
His life had been saved by the old master; since the master was dead, he had to protect the young master.
Until that debt was fully repaid, he had no right to die.
Even if he were to die, it should be a death with purpose.
For the master... for the mistress...
Raymond slowly straightened his back and meticulously adjusted his bowtie.
The trance and reminiscence on his face vanished instantly, transforming him back into the ever-calm, rigid Varga steward.
The young master was coming back.
...
The carriage wheels rolled onto the gravel road at the manor entrance, making a crisp, pleasant sound before coming to a steady halt.
Raymond was already standing on the steps, waiting quietly.
The carriage door opened, and Klein was the first to jump down.
He brushed the dust off his clothes but did not move immediately; instead, he turned around and naturally extended his hand toward the carriage.
A hand lifted the curtain, and Ophelia’s figure appeared.
Without a moment's hesitation, she placed her hand into Klein’s palm.
Using his support, she stepped lightly off the carriage, her posture as straight as a pine.
The entire process was fluid and unspoken, lacking the cumbersome etiquette of nobility and feeling more like a habit ingrained in their very bones.
Under Raymond’s eternally rigid expression, the heart he had intended to freeze due to Bernhaveis’s death seemed to be warmed slightly by this ordinary scene.
He walked down the steps and bowed slightly.
"Master, Madam, you must be tired from your journey."
"Raymond."
Klein released Ophelia’s hand and patted the old steward’s shoulder.
"Did anything happen at home?"
"Everything is well," Raymond’s voice was as steady as ever. "The rooms and hot water are ready. Please, come in."
The two entered the familiar living room.
Klein signaled for Ophelia to go wash up first; after the dusty journey, she deserved to relax.
Ophelia nodded and went straight upstairs.
She knew Klein had things to discuss with Raymond alone.
Only the two of them remained in the living room.
Raymond prepared hot tea for Klein, the temperature just right, as a familiar fragrance drifted through the air.
Klein picked up the teacup and took a small sip, the warm liquid sliding down his throat and dispelling the fatigue of the trip.
"The tea at home is still the most comforting," he remarked casually.
Raymond stood to the side, his posture upright, offering no comment: "The master is joking."
After a brief moment of relaxation, the atmosphere turned quiet again.
Klein set down his teacup.
The porcelain clicked against the tabletop, a sharp sound that broke the silence.
He looked up, his gaze like a torch, staring directly at this silent and reliable old steward who stood like a mountain.
"Raymond."
His expression became more solemn than ever before.
"Regarding becoming a Sage... I have found a new path."
As those words fell, all sound in the living room vanished.
Raymond’s rigid face, which looked as if it had been drawn with a ruler and compass, showed cracks for the first time.
His entire body seemed pinned to the spot by an invisible force, unable to move.
To become a Sage!
Those words were an unreachable legend to others.
But to Raymond, they were a scar etched deep into his soul.
He knew better than anyone how terrifying Klein’s alchemical talent was, and he knew better than anyone how close Klein had once been to that supreme position.
But that path...
That evil path, paved with countless lives and defying the laws of nature, had been severed by the young master himself.
Raymond had once thought this would be the young master’s lifelong regret.
But now...
"What... did you say?"
Raymond’s voice was as dry as sandpaper rubbing together, each word squeezed out from between his teeth.
Klein looked at him and repeated it clearly, word for word.
"I have found a new path to the domain of a Sage, one that is entirely new and requires no sacrifice."
Boom!
Raymond’s mind went blank, leaving only a violent roaring in his ears.
He didn't ask what the path specifically was; he didn't understand alchemy, so asking was meaningless.
He only knew one thing.
His young master was about to embark on a brilliant path, one without precedent, that would shine for ten thousand generations!
The Empire was about to welcome its second Sage in history!
And...
The deaths of the master and mistress... the truth might finally be found!
It took a long time before Raymond found his breath and voice again.
He suddenly bowed low, his rigid posture hiding an irrepressible excitement like an erupting volcano.
"What do you need me to do?"
Klein had been waiting for those words.
He took the token Nelisa had given him from his robe, placed it gently on the table, and pushed it forward.
The silver token shimmered with a cold light under the lamps.
"Take this and go to the Silver Scale Chamber of Commerce."
"Tell them I want certain items. I will give you the list shortly. Not a single item can be missing. Have them all delivered to the manor as quickly as possible."
His voice was calm but carried an unquestionable authority.
Then, he added.
"Also, find the quietest residence in town and have it prepared."
"The chamber will be sending two people over, named Karen and Lyra."
Klein paused, his gaze deep.
"They are... the cornerstones of this new path of mine. They are very important."
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