Chapter 71 : Chapter 71
The street outside the academy’s east gate was far noisier than the grounds within.
Deep ruts had been carved into the stone road by countless wagon wheels, and both sides of the street were crowded with shops and wandering stalls.
The Oak Shield Inn was an unremarkable two-story structure of wood and stone. The shield painted on its signboard had long since faded and peeled.
Ryan crossed through the noisy crowd and pushed open the inn’s heavy wooden door.
The first floor was a raucous tavern. Several mercenaries in coarse linen clothes were loudly playing a drinking game, and the smell of ale was thick enough to sting the nose. Ryan did not linger. He walked straight toward the narrow staircase in the corner.
The corridor on the second floor was dim, lit only by a small window at the far end.
Ryan stopped in front of a door marked Green Vine Room and knocked three times.
The door opened.
Behind it stood an elderly man with graying hair combed meticulously into place. He wore a dark gray butler’s uniform that had been starched into perfect crispness. His back was straight, and the wrinkles on his face looked as though they had been carved by a knife.
Ryan recognized him.
Horace—the Velt family’s old butler.
He had served Ryan’s father, Viscount William Velt, for nearly thirty years. In some sense, he had watched Ryan grow up. Yet he was also one of the clearest reflections of Ryan’s awkward and unwelcome position within the family.
Horace’s gaze rested on Ryan’s face for a moment.
There was little warmth in his gray-brown eyes, and certainly none of the respect a servant would normally show a young master of the household.
He stepped slightly aside, making room.
“Young Master Ryan,” he said. His voice was dry, like old parchment scraping together. “Please come in.”
The room was small and simply furnished.
A square table.
Two chairs.
A low cabinet holding a kettle and cups.
Horace did not sit. Instead, he stood beside the table with his hands folded before him in a standard attendant’s posture. Yet the line of his back seemed somewhat stiff.
Ryan stepped into the room and closed the door, shutting out the muffled noise from downstairs.
He did not sit.
Instead, he gently placed the inquiry letter Edgar had given him on the table. The wax seal bearing the division’s emblem reflected faintly in the dim light.
“Horace,” Ryan began, “the Junior Magic Division of the academy is conducting a formal inquiry regarding the explosion during yesterday’s potion class. The inquiry concerns the supply process of the Ice Crystal Flowers delivered by the Northern Star Trading Company. I have been entrusted by the division to come here and obtain information.”
Horace’s eyes fell upon the letter.
The corner of his eye twitched slightly.
When he raised his gaze to Ryan again, the rigid expression on his face showed clear emotion for the first time.
Displeasure.
“Young Master Ryan,” he said in a lowered voice, “what sort of trouble have you caused at the academy this time? The Disciplinary Committee already took away the caravan leader and the escort workers this morning, saying they were needed for investigation. They still have not been released! The master is waiting in the northern territories for the payment from this shipment and the follow-up orders. Now everything is stuck here! Do you realize how much loss this could bring to the family?”
Ryan looked at him.
A faint sense of absurdity passed through his mind, along with a deeper understanding of the original Ryan’s past circumstances.
This old butler clearly had never regarded him as a young master worthy of respect.
Just like the old bastard in that distant mansion, he saw Ryan as nothing more than a troublesome burden the master disliked.
“The trouble was not caused by me, Horace,” Ryan said calmly. There was no anger in his tone; he was merely stating a fact. “There was a problem during the transportation of that batch of Ice Crystal Flowers. It caused a severe explosion in potion class, and several students were injured. Now the academy is holding the Velt family accountable.”
Horace’s expression changed.
But soon his brow tightened even more, as if he had just heard a ridiculous excuse.
“Young Master Ryan, you must not speak carelessly! The goods of our Northern Star Trading Company have always been handled properly. This shipment to the academy was prepared strictly according to the contract. We used the best insulated containers and double the usual number of constant-temperature mana crystals. How could anything possibly go wrong? It must have been the academy’s own improper storage, or—”
His eyes flickered briefly, and he stopped.
But the meaning was obvious.
Or perhaps you had provoked someone you should not have provoked at the academy and brought this disaster upon yourself.
Ryan ignored the implication entirely.
He picked up the inquiry letter from the table and tapped the wax seal with his fingertip.
“I am not here as the young master of the Velt family to reminisce or listen to your complaints, Horace. I represent the Junior Magic Division of the academy and am conducting an official inquiry. You are obligated to cooperate and answer truthfully.”
Horace stared at the letter.
His throat moved as he swallowed.
Of course he recognized the academy’s seal. He understood perfectly what an official inquiry meant.
Even if he looked down on this young master in his heart, the authority of the academy—and the potential crisis facing the family—forced him to suppress his resentment and disdain.
“…You may ask,” he said finally.
His voice became dry again, though his straight back seemed to bend slightly now under an invisible pressure.
“Good.”
Ryan took out a notebook and pen he carried with him.
He had bought them hastily from the academy shop—ordinary paper and pen, without any magical imprint.
“First question,” Ryan said as he began writing. “The exact date and time when this batch of Ice Crystal Flowers departed from the northern warehouse.”
Horace drew a breath and began answering quickly, as if reciting a report.
“Imperial Calendar, July twenty-second. Early morning, after the fog cleared. The caravan was led by the senior leader Barton. Four escort workers. Six pack horses. Three standard insulated transport crates.”
“The transportation route. Which major stations and towns did you pass through? How long did the caravan stay at each place, and where were the goods stored?”
Ryan’s pen moved continuously.
“The northern official road. Through Black Pine Town, Grayrock Fortress, Old Horse Inn, and Flowing River City, then finally to the academy. In Black Pine Town and Grayrock Fortress, the caravan stayed overnight at warehouses belonging to merchant guild partners. The goods were stored and logged with transfer records. At Old Horse Inn…”
Horace paused slightly.
“That was the largest rest stop along the way. They stayed there an entire night. The goods were unloaded into a separate warehouse in the inn’s rear courtyard. Barton personally stood guard.”
“Was there any unusual incident at Old Horse Inn? For example, cargo inspection, strangers approaching, or… any escort members temporarily leaving their posts?”
Horace’s eyes shifted for a moment.
“…Barton said everything was normal. The inn was crowded that night and rather noisy. Oh, right—Vice leader Hank seemed to have eaten something bad and ran to the latrine several times. Barton scolded him. The man has disappeared somewhere in the past two days.”
“The insulation measures,” Ryan continued. “You mentioned earlier that you used the best insulated containers and double the number of constant-temperature mana crystals. Were there inspection records for the energy levels of those mana crystals before departure and after arrival? Who was responsible for checking and replacing them?”
“Before departure, the warehouse steward inspected them and signed off. The energy levels were full. After arriving at the academy warehouse… normally someone from the academy’s logistics office should inspect and confirm them.”
Horace’s tone became less certain.
“But this time… I was not present during the handover. Barton handled it. Later Barton told me the academy staff only gave the outer crates and seals a quick glance before signing the receipt. They did not test the mana crystals on the spot.”