Chapter 123: Private Gratitude
Chapter 123: Private Gratitude
Morning light spilled faintly across the room when Raven opened his eyes.
Jacob was already there, standing beside the bed.
“You are awake, my lord,” he said in relief. Then confusion quickly replaced it. “What happened last night? I saw you disappear before the battle started… and later found you here, asleep.”
Raven slowly pushed himself up, as if still recovering.
After assisting Prince Raven in killing Jace, Jacob attempted to return to his lord’s room at once. But the potion’s side effects had struck him as well. He had been forced to remain on the terrace of the Knights’ Quarters for nearly an hour before he could even descend the stairs.
When he finally regained enough strength and rushed back, he found the door to Thomas’s room slightly ajar.
Inside, his lord had been lying on the bed, breathing evenly.
Sleeping.
The entire mansion had nearly burned to the ground.
Yet his lord was asleep.
Jacob had been stunned.
But he also knew one undeniable truth—without Thomas’s earlier instructions, far more lives would have been lost that night.
Raven pinched his fingers lightly, testing sensation, then muttered, “I tried a potion meant to erase my presence. I wanted to avoid being targeted by the assassin.”
He paused, frowning slightly as if recalling fragments.
“I remember entering the room… and collapsing onto the bed. After that, nothing. It seems the potion backfired and I lost consciousness.”
Jacob studied him carefully.
The explanation sounded reasonable. The side effects of such potions were unpredictable. And his lord had always been experimenting with alchemy.
He nodded slowly, apparently convinced.
Raven looked up. “What about the younger knights?”
“They’ve returned safely, my lord.”
Jacob hesitated briefly before adding, “A lot has happened.”
Raven leaned back against the headboard. “Tell me.”
Jacob began recounting everything.
How Prince Raven had slain Jace.
How he had pierced the defenses of a Mystic Walker—a Rank-4 powerhouse.
How the Count’s estate and several noble households had been saved from near extermination.
His tone carried unmistakable respect.
“His Highness is far stronger than I imagined, my lord,” Jacob said quietly. “There is something else… He uses spearmanship similar to yours.”
Raven’s gaze sharpened for the briefest second.
Jacob continued, “But His Highness is on an entirely different level.”
Silence lingered.
Raven’s expression remained calm.
“What happened to him afterward?” Raven asked. “Did he say anything?”
Jacob shook his head. “He left immediately after killing the academic instructor.”
Raven nodded slowly.
“Soon after,” Jacob continued, “knights from other households and the Count’s estate arrived. They handled the aftermath.”
He straightened slightly.
“Lord Solomon has ordered a complete lockdown of the city. No one is allowed to leave their facilities until further notice.”
That was expected.
An assassination attempt at such a time could not be treated lightly.
Jacob then retrieved a sealed letter and handed it over.
The wax bore the unmistakable emblem of House Ironford.
Raven broke the seal.
It was a formal summons.
Lord Solomon personally invited Thomas Holmes to attend a strategic meeting today. He also mentioned that he wanted to meet him privately beforehand to discuss something important.
Raven’s eyes sharpened.
Jacob continued, “Although there were casualties, they were limited. Thanks to your prior arrangements and the intervention of our knights, most nobles and knights survived.”
Raven folded the letter carefully.
He then freshened up after dismissing Jacob to rest.
The letter stated the meeting would be held at six in the evening.
This was not a gathering a mere knight household could attend casually.
He changed into a tailored formal suit of dark fabric, the cut precise and restrained. After adjusting his ascot, he glanced at the clock.
8:20 A.M.
Plenty of time.
When he stepped out of the Knights’ Quarters, the damage from the previous night was unmistakable. Sections of the front yard were scorched black. The entrance to the reception hall bore cracks and burn marks. Broken stone and shattered glass had already been gathered to one side, but the air still carried the faint scent of ash.
Knights of House Ironford were stationed everywhere.
They stopped and inspected everyone.
Raven allowed himself to be checked without complaint. Only after presenting the sealed invitation bearing the House Ironford insignia was he allowed through the inner perimeter.
Before long, the house butler greeted him in the main hall.
He was a middle-aged man with disciplined posture and measured eyes.
“Mr. Holmes. This way, please.”
He was escorted to a guest chamber and offered refreshments. A maid entered quietly, placing wine and fruit on the table as a matter of courtesy.
Raven waited.
Exactly thirty minutes later, the door opened.
A gray-haired man in his fifties with faint scars along his jawline entered.
Lord Solomon.
Raven rose immediately and placed a hand over his chest.
“Thomas of House Holmes greets Lord Solomon.”
Solomon inclined his head slightly. Both took their seats.
He did not waste time.
“I heard what happened last night,” Solomon began calmly. “You alerted Lady Rowena and several others about the assassination. You also seem to have discreetly dispatched your knights to warn multiple households at a crucial moment.”
He lifted his glass but did not drink immediately.
“I also heard that His Highness entered the battlefield shortly after.”
His gaze rested on Raven.
“I do not know how the Rebel Prince obtained inside information about the assassination. Nor do I know the nature of your relationship with him.”
A single word from Solomon to the Royal Court would be enough.
Raven would not walk out of this mansion freely again.
“But what I do know is this — your actions, and his, prevented House Ironford and many noble forces from suffering devastating losses.”
Solomon finally took a slow sip of wine.
“I cannot lower my head publicly. That would weaken the House.”
He set the glass down.
“That is why I invited you here privately.”
Then, to Raven’s surprise, Solomon lowered his head slightly.
“You have my gratitude. And please extend it to His Highness as well.”
Raven stood abruptly.
“My lord, please.”
Solomon straightened.
“I merely did what I was instructed to do,” Raven replied steadily. “Count Andres sent me here to ensure your safety.”
Solomon studied him in silence for several seconds.
“Even so, gratitude alone is insufficient.”
He reached into a case beside him and placed the battleplate armor on the table.
“This was lent to me by His Highness before the battle. It saved my life. Please return it to him — or keep it, if he so wishes.”
Raven accepted it calmly.
“Magnus will announce formal rewards during the strategic council,” Solomon continued. “He also intends to speak with Count Andres personally.”
His expression shifted slightly.
“But I do not believe that will be enough.”
He leaned forward.
“If there is something you require — artifacts, potions, resources — speak freely. I will grant you access to the treasury. You may select one Rare-tier item.”
Raven did not respond immediately.
Then he shook his head.
“I have no need of artifacts or potions, my lord. My senior brother can provide such things.”
Solomon’s eyes narrowed subtly at the term.
“However,” Raven continued evenly, “His Highness has been conducting research into the Warlock Pathway. He is in need of magical beast corpses — particularly rare goblin variants.”
That caught Solomon’s attention.
“Goblins?”
“Yes. Unique specimens.”
Solomon considered briefly.
“House Ironford has preserved magical beast corpses for over three centuries. Rank-One through Rank-Four specimens. Very well.”
He raised a hand.
“You may select one Rank-Three magical beast and two Rank-Two specimens of your choosing.”
He summoned the butler immediately.
“Escort Mr. Holmes to the treasury.”
Saying so, he looked at Raven.
“You are an interesting young man, Mr. Holmes,” Solomon said mildly. “I look forward to seeing how you grow.”
Raven followed in silence after thanking Lord Solomon.
They soon arrived before a massive iron gate reinforced with layered runic engravings. Four armored knights stood guard, their auras steady and disciplined.
At the sight of the butler, they bowed slightly.
“State your purpose,” one of them asked formally.
“By Lord Solomon’s order, this young gentleman is to be granted access to the treasury,” the butler replied. He produced a golden badge engraved with the insignia of House Ironford.
The knights examined it carefully. Satisfied, they stepped aside and unlocked the gate without further questions.
The doors parted with a low metallic rumble.
Inside stretched a long corridor illuminated by evenly spaced mana lamps embedded in the walls.
Raven and the butler—Carson—walked forward at an unhurried pace.
They first passed through a vast hall lined with reinforced glass displays. Weapons of various forms rested within: spears, swords, bows, and halberds. Polished battle armor stood upright on carved stands. Rings, pendants, and other relics were arranged in orderly rows, each sealed behind protective arrays.
Beyond that lay another chamber where rare potions were preserved within containment formations. The air there carried a faint, complex scent of alchemical ingredients.
They continued through two more secured sections before finally entering a far larger hall.
Here, the atmosphere changed.
Massive glass containers filled the space, extending into the distance. Within them were the preserved corpses of magical beasts.
Each body was sealed inside vacuum-treated spatial glass, suspended in stabilized preservation fields that eliminated air and decay. Though lifeless, they appeared almost asleep—muscle intact, scales glossy, fur undisturbed.
The hall seemed endless. Rank-Four specimens were present — but that would draw too much attention.
“Please take your time, Mr. Holmes,” Carson said quietly, remaining a respectful distance behind him.
Raven retrieved his monocle from his pocket and placed it over his eye.
Under its lens, subtle traces of information surfaced.
He moved toward the goblin classification section under Carson’s guidance. More than fifty preserved variants were stored there, each labeled with detailed records.
Among them were eleven Goblin Shamans — three Rank-Three and eight Rank-Two.
Through the monocle, their lingering traits became clearer.
Two Rank-Two shamans and one Rank-Three shaman displayed memory-related abilities.
Raven studied them briefly.
Then he spoke.
“I will take this Rank-Three Goblin Shaman… and this Rank-Two specimen.”
Only two.
Carson stepped forward and deactivated the locking array protecting the selected containers. The spatial seals dimmed, allowing access.
Raven stored the corpses in his spatial ring without hesitation.
Once finished, he removed the monocle and gave a small nod.
“I appreciate the accommodation.”
With that, he departed the treasury and made his way back toward the Knights’ Quarters.