Napoleon put down his knife and fork and pondered for a moment.
He had a feeling that his father, Lord Marcus, seemed to be worried about something, which was why he wanted to send him somewhere farther away—somewhere safer.
However, if Morgana truly never reappeared, Oxenfurt indeed lacked the environment for his continued growth. Attending the military academy at Kaer Trolde, which was far more prosperous than Oxenfurt, might not be a bad idea. The prospect of witnessing steam train development was equally intriguing.
"Very well, I'll go and return quickly. If I can truly learn something from the academy masters there, I'll send word back home."
After brief consideration, Napoleon agreed.
Kaer Trolde was very, very far from Oxenfurt—much farther than traveling to two Beauclairs.
Even riding hard, it would take two days and a night to reach, let alone traveling by carriage.
After Napoleon agreed, he spent the following days lurking at home practicing martial arts and conserving his energy.
Isabelle continued her daily outings as usual, and they could often hear news of her capturing someone new.
Napoleon couldn't control her, nor could anyone else in the estate. Even Stepmother Margaret's words to her were ineffective, so they could only let her do as she pleased.
After Napoleon rested for several days, he prepared to begin advancing the other techniques he had obtained.
Among those techniques, with his foundation in Black Tiger Blade and Ravencrest Battle Energy Method, he easily mastered the Heartbreaker Combat Art using the modifier system and advanced it to the peak of the third level.
He temporarily left the other techniques untouched, planning to modify them after his vital energy fully recovered.
There was also Zephyr's Blade Dance technique, which he intended to practice gradually on his own for comparison.
As this routine continued, just before his departure, another strange incident occurred in the city.
Several hunter families living near the outskirts mysteriously disappeared during the Harvest Festival.
Just a few days prior, people had seen them bringing fox pelts and other game into the city to sell.
Then they vanished without a trace.
They had all disappeared within Oxenfurt itself. Only when their families reported to the authorities did this matter become widely known.
Importantly, one of the hunters had a cousin who served as a constable in the magistrate's office. This prevented the case from being casually dismissed.
But the more they investigated, the more suspicious it became.
From beginning to end, those hunters had only taken one route, finally disappearing on the street near the Golden Trout Inn.
People had seen them all along the way.
So the constables went to investigate the street near the Golden Trout Inn.
But that area had been ravaged by a great fire and was deserted. Why would these hunters selling game head to such a place?
Just as Napoleon was puzzling over this, Petite came running urgently to tell him that Isabelle had gone alone at midnight toward the street near the Golden Trout Inn.
By daylight, she still hadn't returned.
Napoleon's heart sank—he knew something had happened.
"When did Isabelle go there?" he asked urgently.
"I'm not sure, but it should have been around midnight during the witching hour. Usually the second miss returns before dawn, but this time she didn't come back. Her maid Scarlett told me the miss had her wait in the room to prepare hot water for a bath.
But she waited so long without the miss returning that she became anxious!" Petite quickly replied.
Napoleon had been relaxing in the garden—a respite before sword practice.
He hadn't expected such a situation to suddenly arise.
"Go immediately and notify Captain Garrett and the family head. I'll go take a look first!"
"Little Pine has already taken men to investigate the situation. He was the one who brought back news of the miss's disappearance!"
Petite said quickly.
"Little Pine..." Napoleon's eyes narrowed. He remembered that household guard. "I understand."
He quickly threw on a cloak, took the household's standard longsword, led a horse from the stables, and hurried toward the Golden Trout Inn.
The entire Bonaparte estate was stirred into action. Lord Marcus immediately ordered Captain Garrett to take men and follow toward the Golden Trout Inn, while also sending someone to report to the mayor's office.
Extensive manpower and connections rapidly deployed.
First, they needed to confirm whether Isabelle had truly disappeared or was merely temporarily absent.
"Hyah!"
Napoleon spurred his horse rapidly through the quiet streets. It was very early morning with few people about, which facilitated his swift journey.
Galloping through the commercial district would normally earn him censure, even for someone of his status.
But these were extraordinary circumstances.
Little Pine's message about Isabelle's disappearance was merely the trigger for Napoleon's concern. What truly made his heart race with urgency was the strange incident he had previously encountered near the Golden Trout Inn.
The bay horse quickly reached the main entrance of the Golden Trout Inn.
The inn's main doors were tightly locked. Dawn was just breaking, not yet fully bright.
On the street beside the inn, everything was scorched black and chaotic.
Wooden houses had been only partially demolished after the great fire, leaving half-destroyed structures mixed with construction debris scattered on the ground, creating an exceptionally desolate scene.
Napoleon dismounted and walked into this blackened street.
Crunch...
His leather boots stepped on the ground, treading on some kind of debris with a crisp sound.
Napoleon gripped his sword hilt. Having experience from two previous conflicts, he felt much more settled.
His eyes shone with sharp light as he continuously scanned his surroundings.
Soon he discovered clues.
In the middle section of this street burned to charcoal, deep sword marks scarred a wooden pillar by a house entrance.
The ground also showed chaotic footsteps, with fresh black soil visible in the footprints.
Napoleon touched the sword marks on the pillar. The exterior of the blackened wooden pillar remained pale yellow inside—it hadn't burned completely through.
These sword marks had cut right through to the pale yellow wood beneath.
"It should be around here."
He slowly drew his sword, holding it in reverse grip as he walked toward the wooden house ahead.
The house's roof had been completely burned through. Walking through the main door, everything inside was in complete disarray—charred furniture, cloth burned into clumps, and various melted objects of unknown origin.
Just a few steps into the house, Napoleon discovered the second set of traces.
A burned wooden table lay on the ground, its edges bearing two deep sword marks and some steel fragments.
"What tremendous force."
Napoleon picked up the fragments, guessing they should be from the steel longsword carried by his sister Isabelle.
He looked down at the footprints on the ground, quickened his pace, and headed toward the house's rear courtyard.
Passing through the small house into the family's backyard, he found a gap in the rear courtyard wall. A one-eyed, burly man wearing brown leather armor, with disheveled hair, was holding a thick-backed broadsword and cursing while posting something on the wall.
"Who goes there?!"
The moment Napoleon entered the rear courtyard, the man immediately noticed and stared at him with fierce eyes.
"Who goes there? I should be asking you the same question."
Napoleon briefly sized up his opponent.
This fellow stood nearly six and a half feet tall.
His entire body bulged with muscles like small mice, holding a gleaming thick-backed cleaver still bearing bloodstains, emanating a fierce, beast-like aura.
"Me?" The big man chuckled darkly and dropped the paper in his hands.
"Looks like you're family of that little lass? That girl actually dared to kill two of my disciples. My elder brother and I took action to capture her, but unfortunately you're a step too late—that girl has already been taken back to our bandit encampment by my elder brother for slow enjoyment."
"Little lass?"
Napoleon's expression grew increasingly dark.
"Looking at your bearing, you shouldn't be some nobody, right? In this Oxenfurt, you must have heard of the Bonaparte family's reputation. Why don't you name your price, and we can have a civilized discussion?"
"Civilized discussion, my arse! Did only one little boy come from the Bonaparte family?"
The fellow sneered coldly at Napoleon.
"The others are behind me." Napoleon saw no need to hide anything—his opponent was an old hand, and lies probably wouldn't work anyway.
He might as well tell the truth.
"Just one person, yet you dare to chase after us—you've got guts!"
The fellow laughed coldly.
"Gareth, Roland, take him down. We'll make the Bonaparte family pay ransom for their lives later!"
As soon as he finished speaking, two more men jumped through other gaps in the rear courtyard—both burly fellows wearing brown leather armor. One carried a long-handled axe, the other a spiked war hammer.
"Just this one little boy—I could handle him alone. Boss, why'd you call us both out?" one complained.
"Whoever captures him first gets the credit!"
The man laughed heartily.
Both men grinned at this, eyeing Napoleon with ill intent.
"Heh heh heh, what a pretty little brother. We'll take him back with that girl, and enjoy them alternately every night—quite nice indeed."
Gareth stared lewdly at Napoleon's lower body.
"Enjoy hell—the boss goes first!"
Roland spat viciously into his palm.
"Break his legs, but don't spill too much blood—it looks bad and kills the mood. Remember last time? You chopped that one's right hand with your axe, spraying blood everywhere. By the time we had our turn, the whole person had gone limp!"
"How's that my damn fault! You also smashed that person's back with your hammer. By the time it was our turn, they were barely breathing!"
Gareth argued back.
These two were twin brothers, born with robust builds. Later, by chance, they became disciples of the Grimskull Brothers from Devil's Pit outside Oxenfurt.
Bloodaxe Grimm—the fellow with the thick-backed cleaver—was one of them.
Grimskull Magnus and Bloodaxe Grimm were murderous criminals who had committed crimes in Oxenfurt over a decade ago. Back then, the two had slaughtered two merchant caravans in a single night, stealing considerable silver and jewelry before fleeing.
Each man's signature technique involved terrifically heavy cleavers and two sets of vicious Whirlwind Blade techniques.
The elder brother, Grimskull Magnus, had once achieved the gruesome feat of cutting a person completely in two with a single blade stroke while being pursued by constables.
This was Napoleon's first time facing opponents head-on, and fighting three people at once.
He raised his longsword, slowly looking toward Gareth and Roland approaching him.
"Let's try one strike first. There are rather many people—if it doesn't work out, I'll retreat first."
His heart felt somewhat anxious. After all, he wasn't entirely clear about his current strength level—he lacked comparison and positioning.
With such thoughts in mind, Napoleon didn't use the Black Tiger Blade Techniques or the Heartbreaker Combat Art.
Instead, he used Zephyr's Blade Dance that he had been practicing himself. He couldn't reveal his true abilities from the start.
He gripped the sword hilt half-tight, half-loose, focusing his gaze on Gareth.
"Come on!" Gareth grinned, swinging his great axe and pointing to his own forehead.
"Little boy's got some style—strike here! Right here!"
"Your grandfather will stand right here without moving and let you..."
Swoosh!!
In an instant, a silver flash of lightning streaked past.
Napoleon's longsword transformed into an agile swallow, suddenly crossing several meters of distance and slicing horizontally across Gareth's body.
Splurt!
A head suddenly flew up.
Blood splattered everywhere.
The entire courtyard fell silent.