Chapter 323: No Problems, or Nothing Found

In the days that followed, Ron and his companions truly lived "like a count." Alfred the butler's shattered and stitched-together body didn't affect his professionalism in the slightest, and the other residents of the domain did their best to satisfy the group's every need.

Since most of the Undead Creatures lacked an urgent need for blood, the nearby wild animals were all plump and robust. Whenever Ron's party needed food, they were quickly provided with a sumptuous supply of meat.

The only small regret was that Silvia was often nowhere to be found, as she had to prepare for the upcoming inheritance ceremony and couldn't spend this time with everyone. After all, the ceremony Count Von Richthofen was planning involved not just a secular ritual but a magical rite as well, and Silvia had to help.

To ensure their companion's safety, Ron, Victoria, and Yelena also took part in the planning. They all knew a bit about ritual magic and were perfectly capable of helping. To their delight, the Count didn't seem to have any intention of hiding things and was, on the contrary, very pleased to have their assistance. However, the ritual had to be performed during a full moon, so even with the preparations largely complete, the ceremony could not be held any earlier.

"I've basically become a night owl these past few days," Victoria said, yawning as she stepped out of her room around dusk on what was about the seventh day. She didn't have dark circles under her eyes yet, but she was obviously exhausted. "Still, it's all worth it for Silvia."

"I'm surprised you're so well-adapted to this lifestyle," the Priest said, glancing at Ron, who had emerged at roughly the same time but had actually been awake for a while. "I heard from Delaford that you supposedly 'fell from the sky.' Does that mean you had to deal with jet lag all the time?"

Ron hadn't revealed much about his past to his companions, giving them the general impression that he was some kind of Herbalist. But given that he'd had no prior contact with Magic, everyone had assumed Ron's main working hours used to be during the day.

"Have you heard of the followers of Gund? They're all inventors with wild and wonderful ideas," Ron said offhandedly. "I used to have a few little gadgets like the ones they make, which let me... well."

For someone like him, turning day into night was perfectly normal, though it wasn't always just for work and study.

"Looks like you can stay awake while helping Silvia, then, unlike Victoria," Quest said with a grin. He'd been incredibly elusive lately, but for some reason, he had suddenly shown his face outside of mealtimes today. "Remember the night before last? You all worked almost until dawn, and when Victoria got back, she passed out right on the stairs!"

"I was just taking a nap—"

"You call sleeping headfirst a nap?"

"Speaking of which, Ron," Quest glanced around, and only after confirming the silent-moving butler wasn't nearby did his smile vanish. He lowered his voice and asked, "You've all been helping out every day this past week. Have you noticed anything unusual?"

"Yelena doesn't know much about Blood Race rituals, but I remember you have a whole stack of books on related theories. I figured you'd be able to spot if something was wrong, right?"

"Enchantment and Ritual Magic do have some overlap, but they're still different fields," Ron said, choosing his words carefully. "Let me put it this way: I haven't found anything abnormal at all."

"The Count himself is essentially just following a recipe. He's never conducted a ritual like this before, so every step is being performed according to what's written in a Magic Book. As both an assistant and a guest of roughly equal standing, I naturally had reason to observe."

"There are no issues with the content inside, neither in its theory nor its calculations. It's all completely aboveboard. The energy source for converting Silvia's bloodline is the Count himself. There are no cruel or sinister procedures involved."

Ron had originally been worried about what he would do if the ritual required several thousand Vampire Derivatives, but after a week, he was almost certain that wouldn't be the case.

Besides, this wasn't Bod's Gate. Even if the Count had the inclination, he'd have nowhere to find that many Derivatives.

"But I still don't get it," Quest said, stroking his chin. "Vampires have nearly eternal lives, which usually gives them an almost pathological craving for power. Why would he suddenly want to find someone to inherit his legacy?"

"According to what he said..."

"I know, I know," Quest cut Ron off. "He's brought it up more than once at dinner: 'My beloved wife and daughter chose to sacrifice themselves so that I could live on, but this eternal life is unbearable torment. I want to end it all, but my people still have attachments to this world. As their Lord, I cannot simply abandon my duties.' But don't you find that highly questionable? He seems to genuinely care about his people?"

"Besides you, I've never met a single Lord with that kind of sentiment. At most, they're only worried their domain's output will suffer if their people are too poor, or that they won't be able to maintain their status... But he still wants to fulfill his duty, even though his family has been dead for centuries?!"

"I, for one, quite admire a person like that," said Victoria. "You suspect he has ulterior motives? Do you have any proof?"

"That's the problem—I don't have any," Quest said, throwing his hands up. "But my gut is telling me that something is seriously wrong here. Seriously wrong!"

"And especially that Alfred," Quest added, again making sure the butler wasn't around. "I've been wandering all over the castle for the past couple of days, and he almost never tries to stop me. But the second I approach the stairs to the attic, that guy appears out of nowhere and finds some reason to send me away!"

"What in the world is in that attic?"

"I know it's a professional habit for you, but it's still not right to go snooping around someone else's home, is it?" Aive, already in her pajamas and on her way back to her room, had been living on a completely different schedule from the others. "Ron, remember Constance's adoptive father's house? Nobles and wealthy merchants like that all have their little secrets. It's better if we don't get too involved."

"Silvia's fine, isn't she? So what is there to worry about?"

"That's exactly what we're worried about," Ron said after a moment's thought, an idea suddenly striking him. "Speaking of which, what about Delaford? Where has he gotten off to these past few days?"

A white rat leaped down from a decoration high on the corridor wall. It seemed to have been perched there for some time, and it was being actively controlled by Delaford himself. Big White tilted its head up, squeaked twice at the group, and then gestured for them to follow it to speak elsewhere.