After a brief discussion in the meeting room, Austin invited Jovian to tour the West Lucozia castle.
The castle was enormous, equipped with imaginable facilities. Unfamiliar visitors could easily get lost in its vastness.
Jovian prided himself on being well-traveled, yet as he toured the castle, even he couldn’t hide his astonishment.
Unlike the ostentatious displays of wealth seen in luxurious estates, this castle could only be described as grand, majestic, and awe-inspiring. Everything in his line of sight conveyed a sense of grandeur and majesty.
What stunned Jovian the most was the House of Heroes inside the West Lucozia castle. The structure was nine stories high and looked like an ancient monument.
The walls were lined with memorials of fallen soldiers. The place was packed with thousands of tablets, each engraved with the hero’s name and a detailed account of their life stories for future generations to honor and remember.
The Ballard family had a family tree that recorded a few notable figures, but their archives seemed utterly insignificant compared to the House of Heroes. No wonder the West Lucozia cavalry was unmatched. It turned out the root of their strength was there.
By the time they completed the tour, the sun had already set.
Austin had prepared a special dinner and invited Jovian to join him. Despite the 30-year age gap between them, they got along remarkably well.
Jovian quickly realized that Austin, the so-called hellraiser, was far from the reckless scoundrel people claimed him to be.
On the contrary, he was highly educated, capable, and brilliant, excelling in both civil and military affairs. In many respects, Jovian-despite his years of experience-felt inferior to him. Indeed, the Rhys family had no shortage of talented individuals.
While Jovian and Austin enjoyed their dinner inside the castle, another scene unfolded outside the castle.
Several high-ranking officials remained anxiously stationed at the gates. They had made repeated inquiries throughout the day, but there was no response from inside. Still, none of them seemed ready to leave, worried that someone else might seize the opportunity if they did.
Huxley glanced at the setting sun, then looked at Percival, whose face had turned pale and covered in sweat. He couldn’t help but tease, “Mr. Wentworth, the sun’s about to set. Are you planning to keep waiting here? At your age, can you handle this much strain?”
Huxley and Warrick were both from military backgrounds. They were physically strong, so waiting under the hot sun didn’t bother them.
In contrast, Percival was used to a life of comfort and luxury. He had never experienced anything like this before.
“Hmph! I know my own limits, Sir Thatcher. I don’t need your concern,” Percival replied gruffly, wiping his sweat.
Behind him, his attendants had somehow procured a pair of leaves and were frantically fanning him to show their devotion.
Huxley added with a smile, “I think waiting around like this isn’t getting us anywhere. Why don’t we find a place to sit and grab a bite? After all, people need food to survive, and it’s hard to wait on an empty stomach.”
“Well…” Percival rubbed his growling stomach and looked tempted by the suggestion.
He hadn’t eaten since early morning, and his hunger was becoming unbearable. The only thing holding him together was his sheer willpower. But the moment he acknowledged it, his stomach growled even louder.
“Mr. Prescott, what do you think?” He turned to Warrick instead of answering directly.
The three men shared the same goal. If he was resting with Huxley and Warrick beat him to the punch, things wouldn’t end well.
Warrick glanced at the closed gate before finally nodding in agreement. “Judging by the situation, they won’t open the gates again today. A few drinks wouldn’t hurt.”
His initial impatience had long since faded.
He was there to repay Matthias a favor, with the intention of gathering some intel for him.
After spending the whole day waiting, he had at least shown his sincerity-no matter what happened, Matthias would know he had put in the effort.
“Alright. Since Mr. Prescott has spoken, I’ll join you for a drink.” Percival smiled.
At that moment, a silent understanding passed between them.
“Gentlemen, this way. Drinks are on me tonight-let’s enjoy ourselves,” Huxley said, gesturing at them with one hand as he led the way.
“Well, I won’t hold back then.”
“Sounds good.”
With their entourages trailing behind them, the three men departed together.
They didn’t go far. There was a nearby tavern just 200 yards from the castle. The private room they chose had a perfect view of the West Lucozia castle entrance.
As they drank and dined, they kept their eyes trained on the entrance and ensured they wouldn’t miss any developments.
Percival and Warrick were pleased with Huxley’s choice. If they had known about this place earlier, they wouldn’t have had to endure the hot sun outside the castle.
While they were enjoying their drinks, a scout entered the room and whispered something to Huxley. Upon hearing it, Huxley’s face immediately darkened, and both Percival and Warrick sensed that something was off.
“Sir Thatcher, what happened?” Percival asked tentatively.
“Gentlemen, I’m afraid we have a problem. “Huxley set down his utensils and said grimly, “According to the latest internal reports, an outsider has already beaten us to it.”
At those words, all three men’s faces darkened.
