Black Sail
Chapter 32: XXXII. Noble Manor

Chapter 32: XXXII. Noble Manor

It was nearing seven in the evening.

Liszt and his companions had already set off on foot towards the Earl’s Manor. Taking a cab would have drawn too much attention, they preferred not to leave any trails for the Earl.

As the saying goes, courtesy demands reciprocity, so they brought along a small gift. It wasn’t that the Lord needed the money, but it was the thought that counted. When visiting someone’s home for a meal, it was customary to bring along a bottle of wine.

Therefore, Liszt spent the grand sum of two copper coins to buy a bottle of poor-quality sugar cane honey-fermented beverage, also known as rum. No one on the ship drank the stuff.

Londen City covered a vast area and was not all flat land. In the foothills along the mountains of the Inner City, lay the manors of nobility.

The night was quiet, stars scattered sparsely in the sky.

Here, there wasn’t just one moon. On cloudless nights, one could witness an incredibly magnificent scene: a composition of crimson, silver, azure, and purplish-blue celestial bodies adorned with a brilliant milky way.

In Morison’s words, such a view would damn one to Hell.

The road leading up to the Earl’s Manor was pieced together with square kiln-fired bricks, fitting snugly together. Although the group had come on foot, the standard of the roadway was such that carriages could ride over it without a jolt.

After walking through the woods for a while, avoiding attention, they neared the manor and merged onto the main road.

From a distance, they could see the brightly lit Count’s Manor.

The main building, styled in the Baroque fashion, was impressively embellished with intricate carvings on its surfaces, even from afar. Arched ribbed bridges connected the surrounding outbuildings, with Roman Pillars adding an air of nobility. Under the moonlight, the blue tile roof’s glossy finish with its interlocking patterns was exquisitely unparalleled.

The manor had several entrances, and although Liszt had arrived stealthily, he chose the main gate, so as not to appear like a thief.

At the main entrance stood double Gothic ironwork gates, with a young servant girl in maid attire waiting respectfully. She wasn’t a beauty, but she had regular features and an exceptional demeanor. Serving in a grand household, she naturally exuded a composed aura, regardless of her position.

Those who arrived at this hour were certainly Black Sail’s people.

Six estate servants, dressed in black vests with white undershirts, swung the iron gate open.

"Please come in, the banquet is still being prepared. I will take you to the tea room to rest," they said.

The maid seemed to want to say something else.

Fen frowned and adjusted his monocle, feeling slighted. Being considered trivial? Even if the host didn’t come to greet them personally, at the very least, he should have sent someone reliable, perhaps a butler. What was this, servants trying to fob them off?

Liszt understood Fen very well. Although he personally didn’t mind these formalities, Fen had a high opinion of himself. Becoming a pirate had been a necessity; he may have lost his status, but he still valued his dignity, a truly conflicted individual.

"Brother Sha, say something," said Liszt.

Liszt was the main guest, and creating a fuss would seem rather low-class.

Upon hearing this, Morison sneered, cutting straight to the chase, "Call out your master. Our bounties are high and we risk our lives at every turn. If the master of the house is absent, we fear this might be a trap, and my friends and I might start slaughtering at any moment."

Liszt let out a hiss of breath, thinking that was perhaps too harsh.

Morison’s face bore the look of a man who had taken many lives, exuding a profoundly terrifying aura that instinctively made one’s hairs stand on end.

Even the well-seasoned estate servants were taken aback, their faces frozen in shock.

"I... I’ll go right away," stammered the maid, her steps fumbling, even taking a fall on level ground.

Liszt had lines of exasperation on his forehead, watching the poor girl be frightened like that.

It wasn’t even two minutes before...

A young man dressed in luxurious, top-quality silk, his body well-nourished and robust, arrived here—the Earl’s son.

In the Beima Duchy, titles are inheritable. Among the direct descendants of the Earl and other nobles of higher rank, even those who did not inherit a title are considered honorary nobles by default. Without needing to be knighted, they are Barons of the lowest rank and are eligible to receive a court stipend. Some are born as oxen and horses, while others are born in Rome.

The Count’s son dismounted, his movements somewhat stiff as he approached.

Liszt was speechless. True to their noble status, they even need conveyances for such a short distance?

"I apologize, my father is currently handling important matters and has instructed me to greet our distinguished guests. It was my oversight."

The Count’s son knew the capabilities of these people. His interest in them was not due to the casino affair but the incident at Blue Bay Port. Sending them to handle the casino was merely to test if they were frauds in name only.

"Hey, I don’t mind those things," Liszt said with a wave of his hand, "but these two brothers of mine are timid and afraid of getting into trouble."

The Count’s son chuckled awkwardly. What a joke—to have killed the entire family of Blue Bay Port’s Lord, distributed the money to commoners, and even made the Admiral profit, creating a win-win-win situation. The only ones hurt were the deceased Lord’s family. They were not only bold but also intelligent, which was something his father appreciated.

"Right this way, please. I’ll take you to the tea room to rest. It won’t take more than a quarter of an hour. Our estate chef once competed in Aran’s culinary contest..."

The Count’s son hadn’t finished speaking.

"Alright, alright, enough talk, let’s get to the tea. My legs are tired from standing around."

Morison couldn’t care less about face-saving. The group wasn’t desperate for this job. If annoyed, they could just kill the entire family and leave. To nobles, they were all the same. The estates with grand gardens and fountains couldn’t be afforded by selling dates on the streets; even selling ten million dates would do no good. Killing these people didn’t bring any sense of guilt—they were the ones begging for our services.

The Count’s son was stupefied, never having been treated this way in his life. After all, you are a noble, and so am I.

"Don’t take it to heart. We’ve been adrift at sea and might lack manners. My friend here is actually kind-hearted, just not very articulate."

Fen’s eyebrows relaxed, grateful for the face-saving.

"Thanks a lot."

Morison couldn’t help but laugh.

The Count’s son, still chuckling awkwardly, led the group into the tea room.

A little while later.

Inside the tea room.

The decor in a noble’s house spoke volumes of the Western Continent’s rich cultural heritage, whereas the decor in a commoner’s home could at best be described as a place for someone to live.

The tea room alone was large enough to dwarf an average-sized tavern, resplendently adorned with top-notch cyanite metal chandeliers. The entire room followed Beima’s traditional style, featuring a significant use of cool-toned Crystal Stone materials and strict geometric lines. The walls were also faced with Obsidian floor tiles, creating a black, white, and gray color scheme overall.

With winter’s arrival, the fireplace had already been lit. The sofa’s Magic Beast leather—which was carefully chosen black Lightning Mink fur to blend in with the overall style—was exceptionally soft and comfortable to sit on.

Clad in a maid outfit, an estate servant was attending to Liszt, massaging his shoulders and legs. Liszt was quite enjoying it, while Fen and Morison had declined the offer.

"Am I not going to die after drinking this?"

Morison sipped the tea, contrasting the noble lifestyle with life on a pirate ship.

Accompanying the three men, the Count’s son struggled to find a topic of conversation, not daring to talk about robbing or killing anyone. He cautiously inquired about any interesting encounters on their adventures.

"Interesting encounters, huh?" Morison thought for a moment, remembering a time in a tavern when he encountered an adventurer who had behaved indecently towards a waitress. "I once undressed a man in a tavern—not killing him, just cutting off one of his arms. His adventure group came knocking for medical expenses. I admitted to it but refused to pay. They grew angry, so I had no choice but to..."

Morison made a throat-slitting gesture.

The Count’s son broke into a cold sweat, regretting his question. He was eagerly waiting for the banquet to begin, not willing to endure the company of these three killers alone.

Liszt was pondering. Swan was probably lurking around about now, possibly even spying on him—the bastard.