Two days passed faster than Shawn expected. Ness never missed a morning, appearing outside his room shortly after sunrise to drag him through another part of the estate. They explored the manor itself, the surrounding grounds, the gardens, and Morgan's vast farmlands.
By the end of the second day, Shawn reached a simple conclusion: Morgan Vonte was absurdly rich. The estate alone was large enough to house several noble families comfortably, supported by farms, warehouses, workshops, and countless servants. Shawn could not see the wealth, but it had a clear sound. He tracked it through the constant movement of workers, the smooth pathways beneath his feet, and the total absence of neglect. Every part of the estate spoke of immense resources.
Still, that wasn't the most important thing he had learned. His hearing was changing. When he first woke up blind, crossing a room felt like navigating a battlefield, each step carrying complete uncertainty. Now things were different. The manor no longer felt like an endless maze because every location possessed its own identity.
The library was quiet in a way no other room was, its echoes swallowed by countless shelves. The kitchens were impossible to mistake, filled with clattering dishes and endless conversations. The main hall carried wide, open echoes that stretched far beyond his physical reach. Even the staircases sounded different; some were narrow, others broad, one creaked near the middle, and another always carried a faint draft. Without realizing it, Shawn was constructing a spatial map inside his head, carefully storing away every corridor, turn, and doorway just in case. Escaping a place became much easier once you understood its layout.
His hearing had also become useful for identifying people. Ness remained the easiest to track, her footsteps light and energetic. Morgan was impossible to mistake, every step carrying absolute confidence and authority. The man walked as though the world belonged to him.
Then there was Clara. Her footsteps were unusually soft, as if she were afraid of disturbing the floor itself. Shawn had grown familiar with her presence over the past two days because she was everywhere. Morgan had assigned her to assist him with meals, laundry, and general requests. The girl was friendly, laughed easily, and seemed genuinely concerned about his well-being.
None of that mattered to Shawn. As far as he was concerned, Clara belonged to Morgan's household, which was reason enough to keep his distance. Trusting anyone inside this estate was stupid. Morgan had not become one of the most powerful men in the kingdom by surrounding himself with fools, and Shawn had no doubt the man possessed eyes and ears throughout the manor. Clara was likely one of them.
One thing Shawn still couldn't understand was why so many young servants worked here, some looking barely older than Ness. Back on his world, several government agencies would have descended on this estate already. Then again, Morgan was the sort of man who probably owned the agencies too. The thought amused him, and a small smile appeared briefly before disappearing. His life had become strange; a week ago, he was trying to survive a dungeon, and now he was analyzing servant demographics inside a noble estate.
Shawn sat cross-legged on his bed to meditate. The practice had started as a way to sort through the chaos inside his mind, but now it mainly helped kill the boredom of being blind in an empty room.
The room remained silent for too long. Ness should have arrived by now. A slight frown appeared on his face, and then he heard heavy footsteps. It wasn't Morgan, Clara, or Ness. The rhythm was wrong, impatient and aggressive. The footsteps stopped outside his room, and a loud bang rattled the wood. Before Shawn could respond, the door swung open.
"What are you doing in bed at this hour?"
The voice belonged to a young man, and annoyance dripped from every word. Shawn opened his eyes, though it made no difference. The stranger didn't sound much older than him, perhaps a few years, but the hostility was obvious.
Shawn slowly rose from the bed.
"Haven't you heard what I said?" the young man snapped. "Or do you think I'm one of your servants? Father told me to come get you. Otherwise, I wouldn't have wasted my time walking all the way here."
The irritation sounded deeply personal. Shawn simply nodded. "Give me a few minutes.
"The answer clearly wasn't what the boy expected. "You'll what?"
"I'll be outside in a few minutes," Shawn said calmly, walking toward the bathroom.
Behind him, a frustrated scoff echoed through the room. Apparently, the young man had expected an argument, but Shawn wasn't interested.
By the time Shawn finished washing up and changed clothes, the stranger was still waiting. The moment Shawn stepped through the doorway, the boy turned around.
"Finally. Father wants to see you."
"Then lead the way," Shawn replied.
The boy clicked his tongue and immediately started walking fast. Shawn almost laughed; the idiot was clearly trying to make him trip. The footsteps ahead grew quicker and more aggressive, as though speed alone could defeat blindness.
Shawn followed calmly. The boy increased his pace again, but Shawn continued following without his expression changing. The corridor widened, then narrowed. A staircase appeared, and Shawn climbed it without issue. The footsteps ahead stumbled slightly, probably from surprise, before the pace increased yet again. Shawn nearly laughed out loud this time. What exactly was this proving? Eventually, the boy gave up trying to hide his intentions and marched ahead like an angry soldier.
The journey continued through hallways, past intersections, and around several corners. As they walked, Shawn quietly memorized the route. Old habits died hard.
Gradually, the sounds around him began changing. The manor grew quieter, the distant conversations faded, and the echoes softened. A familiar smell drifted through the air: books. Shawn slowed slightly as recognition hit him instantly. They were approaching the library. A small frown formed on his face. Why here? What reason could Morgan possibly have for summoning him to the library?
The boy finally stopped walking and opened a door, causing the scent of paper and leather to intensify. Then Shawn heard another set of footsteps, slow, measured, and confident. His expression hardened. It was Morgan.
"You're late," Morgan's voice echoed softly through the space.
Shawn folded his arms. "I arrived when your son stopped trying to make me trip over every staircase in the manor.
"Silence followed. For a brief moment, nobody spoke. Then, to Shawn's surprise, Morgan let out a genuine laugh. "Good.
"The answer made Shawn's stomach tighten. What exactly was good about that?
Morgan's footsteps shifted, and a chair scraped lightly against the floor. "Take a seat, Shawn.
"The amusement vanished from Morgan's voice, replaced by something serious. "We have something important to discuss.
"Shawn's frown deepened. Without another word, he followed the sound of the scraping chair.