Chapter 829 Closing of the Garden

Chapter 828 An Unusual Atmosphere <TOC> Chapter 830 The Owl Watcher

Translator: SumTLMan

George suddenly froze. If his eyes weren’t deceiving him, this man was roughly his age, perhaps even a bit older, judging by the shabby beard he sported.

And he had the audacity to call him uncle?!

Not only was George taken aback, but Jordan and Drew cast over perplexed glances.

“Who are you? I don’t recall having a nephew your age,” George’s sword remained unsheathed, its point edging even closer.

“Uncle George, you remain as vigorous as ever,” Angel continued.

However, this time, George’s expression dramatically shifted. He heard a voice strikingly different from before, clear and pleasing to the ear, like the babble of a brook or a gentle mountain breeze. It instantaneously transported him back to several years ago when a certain individual used to call him in this exact manner.

But as far as his memory served him, that individual was a milk-drinking, pint-sized youngster.

Yet, the man standing before him, disheveled with a crumpled dress, pallid skin, bore no resemblance to the person he remembered.

“Who exactly are you?” George furrowed his brows, eyeing Angel with a suspicious gaze.

Angel merely smiled, his surrounding suddenly shimmering with flowing light, like a mirror shattering, revealing countless fractured lines. Within the interplay of light and shadow, a dreamy iridescence unfolded.

Under the astonished gazes of everyone, the mirror-like surface shattered entirely.

A dapper man, donned in a sophisticated black suit, a bowler hat on his head, and a cloak with a blood-red interior draped over his shoulders, appeared before them.

The exquisite black, contrasted sharply with his fair skin.

Angel removed his hat, revealing a head of soft, golden hair. He gave a courteous smile, “Uncle George, it’s been a while.”

George gasped, gazing into the azure eyes, clear as the midday sky. His cheeks quivered with emotion, and the sword in his hand clanged to the ground.

“An…Angel? You’re Angel!”

In his excitement, George yearned to rush forward and hug Angel, but the latter’s elegant attire gave him pause. It would seem out of place. So he could only express his joy by grasping Angel’s hand, radiating the excitement he felt.

“Uncle George, it’s me.”

“Look at you, all grown up, wonderful!” George examined Angel from head to toe, “Didn’t they say you went to the capital for studies? Why haven’t you come back all these years… Also, how did you suddenly change just now?”

Angel: “Oh? Did my brother tell everyone that I went to school?”

“Haven’t you been studying? Didn’t they say you went to the Goldfinch Royal Academy?”

Angel put on his hat, “I suppose I did go to school, but not on the Old Land Continent. I went to another continent for studies, as for what I studied, well, it’s these little tricks.”

The image of the laid-back uncle was restored as if a broken mirror was mended.

“This is…”

“This is an illusion spell, a trick to deceive your eyes.” Angel explained succinctly.

“Oh.” George didn’t understand, but he subconsciously nodded, then was about to lead Angel into the living room, “Haven’t seen you in a long time, you’ve lost weight, not as plump as before. Take advantage of your return, take good care of yourself. Luckily, I hunted a wild boar yesterday, hurry in and let me nourish you.”

“I haven’t tasted Uncle George’s cooking for a long time indeed. But I’m not in a hurry, I’ve just come back and I should go home first.” Angel: “Just now, it seemed that the Jordan guards were hiding something about Pat Manor, do you know what happened?”

At the mention of Pat Manor, George’s expression shifted slightly.

Seeing this, Angel became more worried and quickly asked, “What happened? Could it be that my brother is in trouble?”

George shook his head, “Don’t worry, your brother should be fine.”

“Should? Why use such an uncertain word?”

“Come in first and have a drink, I’ll explain.” George said while leading Angel into the inner hall.

“Dad… Uh, sheriff! Is he the young master of Pat Manor?” Jordan asked sneakily during a lull.

When George saw Jordan had also followed in, he roared, “None of your business! What are you still doing here, get back to your post!”

Jordan froze for a moment, then mumbled his compliance, “I understand.”

After Jordan left, George went to fetch water. Angel and Drew sat by the central hearth in the room, Angel was silent, his eyes occasionally glancing southward, where Pat Manor was located.

Drew, on the other hand, maintained an “astonished” expression, a look of realization. After a while, he regained his senses, “Lord Pat, was that your true appearance just now?”

Angel merely gave him a cold glance, without a word. Under this intimidating gaze, Drew was frightened and hastily explained, “I just thought, I didn’t expect the Lord to be so handsome.”

“Angel was a sight to behold in his youth, every bit a picture of rosy-cheeked innocence,” George cheerfully served up two cups of milk tea, a knowing twinkle in his eye. He was aware of Angel’s reluctance to share his love for milk tea in the public eye, thus he kept his peace.

Drew, however, dared not jump in the conversation. He cast a wary glance at Angel, bowing his head to sip his tea, hoping to blend into the background, as unnoticeable as air itself.

“Uncle George, what’s afoot at Pat Manor?” Angel’s expression was one of grave concern. Just as Drew was speaking to him earlier, his eyes were fixed on the Manor. He could sense a distinctly peculiar aura emanating from it. What’s more, this aura seemed to have detected his scrutiny, as a surge of powerful energy suddenly broke through, casting a fleeting glance his way.

Although the presence swiftly retreated, the sensation of being watched made Angel feel as though he was threading on thin ice. 

What alarmed him most was that this feeling of being watched undeniably originated from Pat Manor. His prior intuition was on the mark; there was indeed a disturbance at the Manor.

George let out a weary sigh, “Ah, where do I even begin? Truth be told, we’re in the dark about the specifics of what transpired at Pat Manor. Ever since the Month of Recovery three years ago, the Manor has been closed off.”

“Closed off? Has no one left the Manor since then?”

“People have come and gone, or else we would have reported it to Watford long ago,” George paused for a moment, “What we mean by ‘closed off’ is that nobody apart from those belonging to Pat Manor can set foot in it. Do you remember Edgar?”

“Yes, Edgar, if I recall correctly, is the seasoned hunter of the southern town.”

“Correct. A few years back, that rascal Sam, Edgar’s son, returned. He was a defiant one, always going against the grain. When he learned that Pat Manor was off-limits, he insisted on going. No words of warning could deter him. That very night, he stealthily infiltrated Pat Manor,” George’s expression suddenly turned grim, “The following morning, we found Sam’s lifeless body near the Manor.”

“When Edgar laid eyes on Sam’s corpse, he aged a decade in an instant. He left Grud Town thereafter, supposedly venturing to another province… I wonder how he’s faring now. But ever since that day, everyone’s been wary of crossing the line.”

“Such reckless murder is not in my brother’s nature,” Angel furrowed his brow, pondering if the peculiar aura he detected earlier could be linked to this incident.

“We’re equally puzzled, but the unfortunate reality has already occurred.”

“You mentioned that outsiders are barred from entering, but when people from Pat Manor come out, haven’t you tried asking them?” Angel prodded further.

“Of course we’ve asked, but not a soul has spoken.”

Angel pondered about the servants in his family. In his memory, they were all kind and genial, especially the maids like Ollie who loved a good gossip, far from being unresponsive.

“Are you certain they are the same people as before? Have there been changes in their personality, manner of speaking, or habits?”

“I’m not sure what’s troubling you, Angel, but they’re undoubtedly the same people from before. Although they venture out less frequently, their behavior hasn’t changed,” George paused, adding, “They all go silent when we ask about the mansion. However, as they seemed to be leading normal lives, everyone eventually let it be.”

“No changes at all?” 

“Indeed, none.”

“And my elder brother, has he appeared?” Angel questioned again.

“Of course, he has. But he doesn’t show up frequently, sometimes only once in half a year. His activities are mostly limited to overseeing his Manor and comforting the townsfolk. It’s precisely because the Viscount shows up that the town of Grud can maintain its current tranquility.”

“My brother hasn’t changed either?”

George pondered for a moment, “It doesn’t seem so, except that he’s a bit more dignified than before. But that’s to be expected, isn’t it? After all, having assumed the title, it’s natural for him to shed his former unrestrained personality.”

Angel: “So, over the years, surely there must have been people trying to reach out to my brother, right?”

George shrugged, “People have tried, but to no avail. Even if they send messages through the servants who come out, the Viscount might not necessarily appear. Since the Viscount’s appearances are unpredictable and we can’t enter the mansion to deliver messages, Jordan advised you against coming.”

The information Angel gleaned from George brought him some relief: at least his family seemed to be alright for now. But the questions plaguing his mind remained unanswered.

Why did they close off the mansion? Why were the servants so secretive about what was happening inside? And, what was that strange aura lurking within the mansion?

The mansion began to change three years ago during the Month of Recovery; at that time, he had just set sail from the Old Land Continent on the ‘Bohemia’ and hadn’t even left the Whale Whisker Sea.

In other words, not long after he left Grud Town, something happened here. What could have transpired?

“Aren’t you even a little suspicious about what might have happened in the mansion?” Angel asked again.

George’s expression fluctuated several times before he finally sighed, “Even if we are suspicious, it’s no use; we can’t go in. As it stands, the townsfolk have become uneasy at the mere mention of the mansion. We’ve decided to avoid discussing it altogether and focus on living our lives. At least the Viscount hasn’t increased our taxes or exploited us in any way.”

Angel fell into thought for a moment before standing up.

“Uncle George, let him stay with you for now. I’m planning to return to the mansion to see what’s happening,” Angel indicated Drew as he spoke to George.

George furrowed his brow, “But the mansion is currently closed, wouldn’t it be a bit… if you just go in like that?”

“Pat Manor is indeed closed, but it is closed off to outsiders. Don’t forget who I am,” Angel responded with a hint of authority.

George considered this and conceded the point. After all, Angel was the young master of Pat Manor. What was forbidden to others shouldn’t apply to him. Hence, George decided not to protest.

Once Angel had departed, George turned to a quiet and withdrawn Drew, his curiosity piqued. “I noticed you showed a lot of respect to Angel earlier, even addressing him as ‘Lord’. What’s your relationship with him? What are those… tricks he’s learned over the years?” 

George rattled off a string of questions, but Drew didn’t dare answer any of them. With a bitter smile, he replied, “All these matters are confidential. Without the permission of Lord Pat, I’m not at liberty to disclose them.”

George gave Drew a serious look, saw the resoluteness in his eyes, and finally gave up on his line of inquiry.

Although George refrained from further questioning, Drew’s curiosity was piqued. “Lord Pat seems quite young, do you know how old he is?”

After a moment’s thought, George replied, “I remember Angel was just fourteen when he left. He should be around eighteen now.”

Eighteen? He’s practically the same age as me?!

Chapter 828 An Unusual Atmosphere <TOC> Chapter 830 The Owl Watcher

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