Chapter 25: My Master Is Awaiting You

At high noon, the sunlight descended like a blunt blade, struggling to pierce the dense, impenetrable canopy of the forest. Below, a winding path cut through the thick woods, leading straight into the distance. It was the only route to Fruit Basket Village.

A carriage stood by the roadside, its body crafted from the finest oak, polished to a mirror finish that reflected the faint golden glow of the afternoon sun. The roof was draped in soft purple velvet curtains with intricate silver embroidery along the edges, and it was drawn by two black steeds with coats that gleamed like polished obsidian.

Viscount Kallen Hughes lay across the coachman’s bench, tossing a red fruit into the air and catching it, over and over, in a display of sheer boredom. He was dressed in a well-tailored black formal suit, complete with an exquisite silver tie. If one were to ignore his overly broad shoulders and his casual, slouching posture, he might have been mistaken for a refined nobleman.

Nearby, several mounted guards kept a watchful eye on the surroundings, tasked with protecting the Viscount. Of course, they knew this was merely for show; everyone was well aware that the Lord himself was the most powerful person in the entire territory.

*Clip-clop.*

A flurry of rapid hoofbeats echoed from afar. The guards instantly tensed, spears raised, only to lower them once they recognized the rider.

"My Lord, Sir Thorin has returned," a guard announced.

"Finally! I thought this tie was going to strangle me to death!" Kallen exclaimed, delighted. He crunched into the red fruit, swallowing it whole, pit and all.

"My Lord, His Highness has agreed to your request for an audience at the hour of the afternoon sun," Sir Thorin said, quickly dismounting and bowing respectfully.

"He agreed just like that? It seems the probability of this being true has gone up quite a bit..." Kallen mused. "The time is almost upon us. Prepare yourselves; we leave immediately."

Kallen stretched his arms, cracking his back, and hopped down from the carriage bench. This ostentatious carriage wasn’t something he had commissioned for himself; it was part of the dowry his wife, Denise, had brought from the Martha family. If the identity of that personage were indeed true, this luxurious carriage would serve as a fitting vessel to transport him from this village to Wolfhowl Castle. After all, having an heir to a superpower residing in a dilapidated village within his own territory would be a scandalous rumor. Even he, a man who rarely cared for noble etiquette, felt he might truly deserve to be stripped of his title for such an oversight.

Of course, all of this was predicated on the stranger being the first person in centuries to return from the Eastern Continent, and, more importantly, the heir to a superpower that likely ruled the entire Eastern lands.

If it were a lie... Kallen’s eyes narrowed, a cold, predatory intent radiating from him that made the nearby soldiers’ scalps tingle.

If it were a lie, he would simply have to let the man experience the agony of being torn apart by a pack of wolves, piece by agonizing piece.

"Awooo!"

Kallen took a deep breath, and a sound resembling a wolf’s howl erupted from his throat.

*Awooo!*

A moment later, a sharp, mournful howl echoed back from the dense woods to the right of the road.

*Thump! Thump! Thump!*

Accompanied by the rhythmic snapping of branches and the heavy, ragged breathing of a massive beast, a titan emerged from the shadows of the forest and stepped into view.

It was a fierce black wolf, standing over two meters at the shoulder and five or six meters in length. The leader of the pack that had once lunged at Xia Mingyu didn't even measure half its size. Its muscles were coiled like knotted ropes, and its jet-black fur shimmered with a cold, metallic luster in the dim light. One could only imagine how terrifying it must be as it stalked its prey through the forest.

In its fanged jaws, it tightly gripped the carcass of a grey wolf, blood dripping to the ground. That grey wolf was noticeably larger than an ordinary wild wolf, yet before this gargantuan beast, it was reduced to nothing more than a snack.

For some reason, faced with this ferocious behemoth, neither the guards nor Sir Thorin showed any sign of fear.

"Blacktail, didn't I tell you to just go into the woods to relax, not to hunt?" Kallen frowned. "We are going to meet an important person. If you get yourself dirty and offend his eyes, you’ll be in for a real thrashing!"

This beast was his mount—the overlord of Wolfhowl Forest, a Black Abyss Wolf. It was thanks to this magical beast that he had been able to slaughter multiple transcendent knights single-handedly, forging his legend and earning the title "The Howling Wolf."

*Awooo!*

Sensing the displeasure in his master’s voice, Blacktail crunched the head of the wolf carcass in one bite and began to chew greedily.

*Smack, smack.*

Following the unsettling sound of chewing, little remained of the carcass but a dry, crumpled pelt. Immediately afterward, Blacktail began grooming itself like a house cat. Only when its massive body was entirely free of blood did it wag its tail and trot over to Kallen, panting obsequiously.

"Sigh, you’re a wolf, for heaven’s sake. Why do you act like a dog?" Kallen sighed, his anger instantly dissipating as he shrugged helplessly at his companion’s fawning display.

Blacktail continued to wag its tail as if it hadn't heard him, a flicker of human-like disdain flashing in its deep green eyes.

What was wrong with being a wolf? Out in the wind and sun, sick with no one to care for you—how could that compare to being a "dog," living in a castle with servants to wait on you hand and foot?

"Let’s go."

Kallen leapt onto the back of the Black Abyss Wolf, and the group set off in the direction of Fruit Basket Village.

***

The hour of the afternoon sun arrived. The sunlight was no longer as fierce as it had been at noon; it had softened, flowing from the azure sky like melted honey, dyeing the fields a brilliant gold. The emerald fruit orchards in the distance swayed in the breeze, resembling a watercolor painting dampened by water.

Kallen’s party arrived at the entrance of Fruit Basket Village right on time. For a noble, being late was a breach of etiquette, but arriving too early for an audience could be just as discourteous.

"Welcome, Viscount Hughes."

A young woman in a blue dress lifted the hem of her skirt and bowed slightly.

"You are..."

Seeing the beautiful girl, who looked as if she had been meticulously sculpted by the gods under the sunlight, Kallen couldn't help but feel a flash of astonishment. Though he was accustomed to beauty—his own wife, Danielle, was a famous beauty of the southern kingdom—the girl before him possessed a beauty so refined it felt almost otherworldly. Even Danielle paled slightly in comparison.

However, Kallen’s expression quickly returned to calm. If he were eighteen, he might have pursued such a girl with reckless abandon, but at thirty-two, constantly exhausted by his domestic duties, he only felt a dull ache in his lower back.

"I am Anria, the handmaiden of His Highness. My master is already awaiting you. Please come forward to pay your respects immediately."

The girl’s expression remained serene, as if she were not speaking to the lord who held the power of life and death over the entire territory, but merely to an ordinary guest.