Back in Trier, Edward first carried out his original plan by visiting several of the city's largest newspapers, paying for an advertisement:
"Looking for a small black female cat. The owner is extremely anxious. Anyone with clues, please contact Edward as soon as possible."
He then went to Backlund, doing the same thing with several papers there.
If Lilith saw the notice, she would definitely understand that he was searching for her. To everyone else, it would just look like an ordinary missing-pet ad.
Of course, publishing it was just taking a chance—an idea he had gotten from Roselle. The odds were slim, but it was worth trying.
Still, after quietly waiting three days, there was no response.
Naturally, he wasn't just idly wasting time at home during those days. After some mental preparation, Edward threw himself into nearly nonstop study of Elvish for two days straight, while also familiarising himself with the new abilities gained from advancing to Spiritcaster.
On the third evening, though mentally numb from learning, a thought suddenly struck him. He retraced four steps, returned to Sefirah Castle, and used [Madman to the Right]—forcing a crude, brutal influx of Elvish knowledge into his mind.
Though most of the cost was borne by Sefirah Castle, Edward still felt like his skull was about to split apart.
Fortunately, the pain came as fast as it left.
When he staggered back into reality, dazed, and reopened the Book of Calamity, he could now read Elvish fluently. As he wished, he "consumed" the book's collection of Sequence 2 powers from the Tyrant pathway.
In that instant, Edward not only regained a sense of safety but even felt overwhelmingly strong—
Compared to the Black Emperor and Red Priest pathways, which leaned toward concepts and rules, the Tyrant pathway was straightforward and violent. On the surface, it looked far more powerful.
That was why, once Sailot Beyonders reached demigodhood, they tended to become eccentric and flamboyant—sparks and lightning wherever they went, fearless enough to smash into anyone head-on.
———
Friday morning.
Edward once again took a public carriage, this time to the southern market district of Trier. Upon arrival, he went straight to the zone dedicated to the trade of slaves and the hiring of servants or housekeepers.
Yes—slavery had not yet been abolished in this era. Most wealthy families still kept slaves as beasts of burden. It wasn't until Roselle's "Industrial Revolution" swept across the world that people, eager to free up labour for their own profit, began pushing for abolition.
Even then, true abolition didn't arrive until over a century later, and still, many nobles continued to secretly use and trade slaves.
Here in Trier, one only had to glance at both sides of the street to see men, women, young, and old locked in cages or chained to posts like livestock, waiting to be chosen.
The slavers boasted endlessly about their wares—strong, hardworking, cheap to feed. Buyers would manhandle them, squeeze their muscles, or pry open their mouths to inspect their teeth. It was indistinguishable from livestock trading in later generations.
This was the reality of the era. Unless someone like Roselle stood at the very peak of power and imposed top-down decrees, there was no solving it.
Edward passed through the slave market and entered the hiring area. Conditions here were better, but in truth, the difference between servants-for-hire (especially maids) and slaves was minimal—they, too, simply stood by the roadside waiting to be picked.
The only difference was that they had at least some right of choice.
"I need a reliable butler."
Edward got straight to the point when a man approached him.
"I've just moved to Trier and am living in a villa in Avenue du Boulevard. I need someone to manage all matters, large and small."
"That's simple!" The man said confidently. "That's the basic quality of any competent butler. Please, this way."
"Of course."
Following him into an opulently decorated hall, Edward elaborated on his request:
"The most important thing is, I want a chance to enter Trier's upper noble circles. You know, I've been overseas for years. Now that I've finally earned some wealth, I naturally hope to become a true aristocrat."
"That…" The man frowned slightly. "That's tricky. Trier's upper nobles are families with centuries of lineage—extremely insular and difficult to penetrate. Relying on a butler to achieve that? Impossible."
He paused, then added: "I know of only one exception…someone who rose from a declining minor noble into one of the hottest figures in all Trier and even Intis."
"You mean the Son of Steam, Roselle Gustav? Oh heavens, that's entirely different. His rise can't possibly be replicated."
The man suddenly thought of something.
"By the way, sir—you mentioned you've just moved into Avenue du Boulevard? But as far as I know, there haven't been any houses for rent or sale there recently."
"Oh, is that so? I wouldn't know."
"Sir, may I ask which address you're renting?"
"7 Rose Street."
The man froze mid-step, then nodded knowingly.
"Ah…that villa. No wonder."
Edward blinked.
Was that house really so "famous" that even random people knew about it?
"Can you tell me exactly what happened in that villa? I only heard there was a murder."
"That's right. The master's family of six, plus a butler, two servants, and four slaves—all dead in one night."
The man clicked his tongue. "If it were just a case of murder, people wouldn't be so spooked. The problem is…they seemed to have died in a mutual slaughter."
"As in…more than ten people who had lived peacefully together suddenly turned on each other in the middle of the night, killing one another until not a single soul remained. The most terrifying part? Each of them had a hideous, eerie smile on their face when they died."
As he spoke, the man shuddered, fear surfacing as if the memory alone chilled him.
This description clearly pointed to supernatural involvement—mutual butchery? A Witch-pathway's instigation? Or perhaps control by wraiths?
Edward raised a brow. "And what did the Church or the authorities say?"
"In the end, they merely announced it as a murder case. No explanation of cause, no culprit. Just quietly shelved." The man shook his head. "That fellow who rented the place to you really is…"
"Heh."
Edward chuckled. "It's fine. I've seen quite a few things over the years—worse than that villa. Nothing to be afraid of." He paused. "Besides, I've already lived there alone for four or five days. Haven't I been just fine?"
"Incredible!"
The man gave him a thumbs-up. "But the truth is, people with your kind of courage are rare. Which means…finding a butler willing to work there might be…a little difficult."
"Difficult?" Edward smiled faintly. "Experience has taught me—there's no such thing as a 'difficult problem.' It only means the price isn't right."
The man nodded, then shook his head. "You're right, but most seasoned, skilled butlers aren't exactly poor. They wouldn't risk their lives just for money. In fact, the higher you raise the pay, the more it confirms that house is dangerous. Of course, if you offer something outrageously high, someone will take the gamble. But then again…with that much money, why not move? Why insist on living in a haunted house?"
He leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "I happen to know a few nobles in Avenue du Boulevard. Their finances are in dire straits, though they keep up appearances by not renting out their homes. But that sort of thing is negotiable. Face is important, sure—but they can't eat pride, can they?"
Edward understood now. The man was circling around to pitch him other villas. If Edward agreed, he'd get a cut both from securing a new residence and from arranging a butler. Two commissions in one stroke.
Truly, the tongue was his trade.
Still, the logic was sound. If he offered an absurd sum for a butler in a haunted house, it would look suspicious. Just as the man said: with that much money, why not move somewhere better? Unless…you had some hidden motive for clinging to a cursed property.
Thinking this, Edward smoothly said, "You're right. In that case, I'll trouble you to introduce me to those nobles."
"Gladly at your service, sir."
The man bowed with satisfaction. "Ah, by the way—my name is Eland."
Edward shook his hand.
"Then, this way. First, let me show you some excellent butlers. If one catches your eye, he can also help you handle the matter of leasing a new villa."
"No problem."
"Please, take a seat here."
Eland led Edward to the hall's lounge area. Snapping his fingers at a maid, he ordered, "Bring this gentleman, Mr. Sparrow, the finest southern Fermo Coffee. I'll fetch the butler profiles."
He hurried off.
Soon, a maid approached with a steaming cup of coffee. But before she could reach him—still three or four meters away—a man suddenly stepped forward, snatched the cup from her, and swiftly placed it before Edward.
"Please enjoy, Mr. Sparrow."
He smiled smoothly. "Speaking of southern drinks, most people praise its beer—bright hops, rich malt, smooth on the tongue, beloved even by nobles. But the coffee beans are just as excellent. They carry a faint caramel aroma, not bitter, not harsh, with a subtle sweet aftertaste. Only true connoisseurs know."
The flustered maid tried to protest: "Sir…"
"It's fine, go about your duties," Edward waved her off. He lifted the cup, sipped, and nodded. "Thank you for the lesson, Mister…?"
The newcomer appeared around thirty, with blond hair and blue eyes, strikingly handsome—almost rivalling Emlyn, Edward's personal benchmark for beauty.
He wore a well-fitted suit, clearly old but carefully maintained, not a crease in sight.
He sat down uninvited across from Edward, introducing himself fluently:
"Allow me—Dubois de Lorraine, heir of the Kumquat Baron family in the Intis Kingdom."
Never heard of it.
Seeing Edward's expression, Dubois smiled. "Ah, you may not have heard of us. But what matters is this: I can absolutely fulfil every requirement you have for a butler. Though noble-born, I was trained in management by my elders. I know how to serve as an excellent steward. What's more, I am well acquainted with Intis's noble circles. I can act as your stepping-stone into their world."
Edward took another sip of coffee, then set the cup down. "Go on."
"Most importantly, I share your courage. I'm not afraid of that cursed house on Rose Street. So you need only pay me the standard wage."
Edward arched a brow. "But aren't you a noble? Why would you want to be a butler?"
Dubois lifted a finger solemnly. "That doesn't matter. My only request is—upon hiring me, you must provide me with a brand-new suit, the latest style."
"You see, though this one is my favourite, it's far too old. If I accompany you in it, I might embarrass you. And…" He coughed lightly. "If possible…a new suit every so often, to keep up appearances, would be even better."
———
[Note]: Don't forget to VOTE. It keeps me motivated.