The Zestrad Barony was the estate of Karnak’s family, one of the lower-rank noble families of the Eustil Kingdom. With about a hundred years of history, it wasn’t so old as to be considered venerable, nor was it a new noble family. It was simply an unremarkable, ordinary family of nobles. Reflecting on the past, Karnak spoke with a touch of nostalgia, "It really was a very ordinary family." The land was neither barren nor particularly fertile, yielding just enough for a modest life for the people and their rulers. In years of plenty, there would be celebrations. In lean years, meals were sparse. They couldn’t dream of luxuries, but they maintained a level of dignity befitting the nobility—a typical rural noble household. Karnak’s grandfather, Baron Grellid, had always been dissatisfied with this truth. "How much longer must we remain stuck in this rural corner? A true man should aspire to greater things!" With lofty ambitions, he mortgaged the estate and attempted various ventures. Unfortunately, they all ended in utter failure. Every enterprise collapsed, he lost what few fertile lands the estate had, and he eventually died from the stress. In the end, he left behind nothing but debt. What began as grand aspirations ended in a mountain of debt. Karnak’s father, Baron Kraput, inherited a barren estate and a crumbling manor. He strove to revive the family, though it was hardly an easy task. Even in the best of times, it was difficult, and the added debt made it near impossible. Still, his firstborn son showed some promise as a worthy heir, and the second son displayed talent in martial arts, becoming a respectable knight. Thanks to them, the family managed to hold on. "Though honestly, all that promise and talent was just father’s opinion," Karnak mused. By ordinary standards, both sons were average at best—capable of the same things any child given a decent education could do. Even as the barony sank, Baron Kraput continued to live and do as he pleased. Living as a proper noble, he even took a mistress. When the mistress ended up pregnant, he showed a bit of responsibility by bringing her into the household. The problem was, he abandoned her once she was in. Karnak’s mother, formerly the mistress, suffered under the baroness’s harassment until she eventually succumbed to illness. And as an illegitimate child, Karnak grew up enduring constant scorn and humiliation. "Ah, thinking about it still makes me angry..." Shaking his head, Karnak forced the memories aside and took out a silver coin from his pocket. "Anyway, that’s likely the state of my family right now..." He rolled the coin between his fingers. "So where did all this money come from, then?" Thanks to the horses, the journey from Darha to the Zestrad estate, which would have taken three days on foot, was cut down to two. "It’s not as much time saved as I hoped," Varos grumbled while casting a look of disdain at his brown horse. "They said they were well-fed, so why do they tire so quickly?" Karnak scoffed, giving him a dry reply, "This is what you call sturdy for living horses!" "How would I know what living horses are like?" For the record, the horses Varos had once ridden included zombie horses, skeletal horses, and ghost horses. "They don’t get tired, don’t need to be fed, and don’t even leave droppings—there’s nothing but advantages." Of course, the slight issue was that riding such undead mounts saturated one’s body with death energy and eventually led to a slow and painful death... "But we were already dead, so it didn’t matter," Varos shrugged. Thanks to their hard riding, they were nearing their destination. Scanning the landscape, Varos peered down from the hilltop and murmured, "I can see the estate from here, young master." "Funny, how the human mind works." Looking out over the fields covered in green barley, Karnak gave a bitter smile. "This place holds not a single good memory for me, yet I feel a bit nostalgic seeing it now." "All I feel is irritation," Varos grumbled, scrunching up his face. "I was hated here too, after all." Varos had grown up as an orphan of the estate. Because the Zestrad estate was located in the harsh northern region, it was often plagued by monster attacks, leading to no shortage of orphans. Typically, orphans weren’t looked down upon here, but Varos’s case was different. His parents had swindled the villagers, taken their money, and fled under cover of night. But they had abandoned him. Though it wasn’t his fault, people held the prejudice that the blood of crooks would produce more crooks, and no one wanted to take him in. Moreover, the estate wasn’t wealthy enough to afford welfare facilities like an orphanage. It was Karnak who had extended a hand of salvation. Despite his timid nature, young Karnak had stubbornly insisted on taking Varos as his servant. Even though Karnak was only an illegitimate child, he was still a noble, and for appearances’ sake, he was allowed an attendant. Baron Kraput saw no better option for Varos, and gave his approval, effectively discarding an inconvenience. "But in the end, I was the only one who took care of you, right?" asked Karnak. "And I was the only one who took care of you, young master. What’s the point of bragging about it now?" As they chatted, the horses trotted steadily on, bringing them closer to the estate. Fields stretched out before them, and the figures of farmers working the land came into view. "They all look busy." "It’s weeding season, I’d imagine." "Let’s hurry on past, then." Karnak was known as the youngest, unruly son of the lord to the estate’s residents. Varos fared no better, and he was Karnak’s rascal of a servant. Encountering the villagers would only lead to unpleasant reactions, so they were about to hurry by when— The villagers spotted them and waved joyfully from afar. A few even started tearing up. "You must have gone through so much!" "Oh, the hardships you must have endured..." Their reactions were far from what Karnak remembered. He let out a hollow laugh. What did I ever do to deserve being called hardworking? But given how naturally everyone greeted him, he couldn’t ask exactly why they were so happy to see him. It would have been out of place. So instead, he raised his hands in a quick wave, nudged his horse forward, and swiftly rode away. Varos frowned while glancing over his shoulder. "It feels like I’m trapped in a nightmare." "I feel the same. We need to get home as soon as possible." Standing before a large stone wall, Varos muttered, "Young master, what is this?" Karnak scowled, his face contorting in disbelief. "Don’t ask me. I have no idea what’s happening anymore." In front of them stood a grand estate. High-quality bricks had been stacked to form walls that stretched out in both directions. Beyond them, an elegant garden could be glimpsed, with a stunning two-story mansion rising above it. It was complete with a sunlit terrace and various statues gleaming in the light. "This... this is the Zestrad estate, right?" "Yes." Karnak nodded, his expression bewildered. It was unmistakably the same house he remembered—at least, in its basic structure. "The wall’s height is the same, the garden’s size hasn’t changed, and the building itself is still here, but..." "Why is the mansion so spotless?" "Exactly. It’s completely renovated." The Zestrad manor he remembered was over a hundred years old, with a so-called antique charm that, truthfully, was just rundown. It had fallen into disrepair after being neglected for decades due to a lack of funds. But now, every corner of the mansion was impeccably maintained, exuding an elegant, noble grandeur—the very image of a distinguished noble estate, as one might picture in a storybook. "Where are we? Just where on earth did we end up?" Varos's question was one Karnak fully sympathized with. It wasn’t just about the mansion—it was a question about the world itself. "Well... let’s just go inside for now," Karnak replied. "Right... Though I’m not sure we should be stepping into such a fine place, given how shabby we are." With a wary glance around, the two approached the main gate. One of the gatekeepers noticed them and welcomed them with a bright expression. The man looked to be in his mid-forties. His was a familiar face from Karnak’s memories. Karnak nodded, feigning nonchalance. Katail turned to another gatekeeper. "Quickly, inform the steward! Tell him the young master has returned!" Watching the scene unfold, Karnak let out a sigh. Here he was, back at the mansion from his memories, and with familiar faces rushing to greet him. Overall, the situation felt very much in line with his recollections. But the appearance of everything was entirely different. The mansion gleamed with polish. The servants’ clothing was immaculate. Laundry was quite an expense, so he had no recollection of the servants being dressed this well. And the warmth in their greeting—he couldn’t recall a single instance of such hospitality. He remembered only disdainful glances and cold treatment. For such are the kind of things that linger in your memory no matter how hard you try to forget them. ‘I feel like I’m going to lose my mind...’ Varos leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Young master." "At this point, I don’t think anything could surprise me anymore." "I feel the same way." But it didn’t take long for their assumptions to be shattered. Moments later, a well-dressed elderly man with a dignified air hurried out of the mansion. Right, that’s him. He’s still alive at this time, after all. Tafel Fleyd was the elderly butler of the family who had served since Karnak’s grandfather’s time. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭•𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚•𝕟𝕖𝕥 "Steward, the young master has returned!" the gatekeeper called out. The butler, Tafel, gave him a sharp look and chastised him in a familiar tone, "Mind your words, Katail. How much longer will you insist on calling him young master?" Then, with a gentle expression Karnak had never seen before, the butler bowed respectfully to him. "Welcome home, my lord." The two men could only look at each other while blinking in astonishment. "Did he just call you ‘my lord’?" "Is he talking to... me?" A delicate teacup on the table released gentle wisps of steam. They were seated in an opulent drawing room adorned with elegant paintings and decorations. Karnak wore a dazed expression as he stared at the cup. He had never even touched such a luxury item during this time. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Varos trying his best to hide his own bewilderment. The elderly butler, Tafel, spoke in a quiet tone as he looked at Karnak. "It has already been over half a year since you took on the role of family head, Lord Karnak..." From what Karnak could gather, it seemed he had inherited the barony right after coming of age, around the age of twenty. "Did you accomplish what you set out to do?" "Set out to do?" Karnak repeated reflexively, confused. Tafel looked puzzled for a moment before elaborating. "The purpose of your travels, my lord. You went on that journey for that reason, did you not?" Caught off guard, Karnak stumbled over his words, "Oh... more or less." Fortunately, the old butler didn’t seem to find it strange. "That’s good to hear. The late lord would be pleased as well." ‘What? Father is dead? Karnak was bewildered, but he continued to listen to the elderly man’s words. "If Lady Isabella were still with us, she would be so proud..." Isabella—the late Baron Kraput’s wife and Karnak’s stepmother. Good grief, she’s dead too? "And when Sir Tesil passed as well, I wondered how we would manage... But now, finally, I can be at ease." Even my eldest brother is dead? By this point, Karnak’s curiosity was only further piqued. What about Paralt, then? What happened to that piece of shit? One thing was clear: he wasn’t fine. If his second brother were still around, he wouldn’t have received the title of lord. But what on earth had happened? I’m dying to know, but I can’t just ask. He had no clue what the purpose of his journey was supposed to be, either. If I had a reason for traveling at this time, then it’s obvious. It would have been simple: mastering necromancy in secret after acquiring it by chance. The idea of any other purpose didn’t make sense, especially since he was actively studying necromancy even now. But there’s no way I would have openly admitted that. If that truth ever came to light, it wouldn’t have been a warm smile waiting for him—only a warm bonfire for him to burn in at the stake. So what exactly does old man Tafel think my purpose was? Another question weighed on his mind. Originally, Karnak’s reason for learning necromancy had been revenge—to gain power and strike back at his family. But judging by the current situation, that revenge seemed unnecessary. He was the lord of the estate. He was acknowledged by those around him, and everyone appeared to treat him with kindness. Why on earth would I bother with necromancy if I was living so comfortably? He had no idea. Not even a hint. If my power were intact, I could use mind control to gather information, but that’s not an option now... Realizing he couldn’t continue this way, Karnak gave Varos a subtle look. Normally, conveying intent with just a glance would be impossible, but after over a century of practice, they understood each other perfectly. Varos immediately caught on and stepped into the conversation. "Lord Karnak is weary from his long travels. Perhaps it would be best to continue the conversation tomorrow?" "Oh, apologies for my lack of consideration." The old butler clicked his tongue and rose from his seat. "My deepest apologies, my lord. Please, rest for now." Karnak inwardly breathed a sigh of relief as he stood up. It felt as if he had just escaped from walking on thin ice. He stole a glance at Varos. Let’s get out of here. Now. I fully agree, young master.