The door creaked open, followed by a simple, aged voice.
"Master Andermatt, here's the tree pulp mud you asked for yesterday. This is all that's left—see if it's enough for you..."
Sean couldn't make out the person clearly from his line of sight, but he guessed it was a town resident.
Tree pulp was a type of adhesive used here, effective for repairing decorations or furniture. Workers at his own home often used it to glue furniture together.
"That much! It's plenty, plenty. Thank you." Andermatt replied politely.
"Why don't you come in and sit for a bit? I'll get your money..."
"Huh? Oh..."
The blocked view shifted, and a middle-aged man with a dark, gaunt face walked in.
"So the lord is here too."
As soon as he entered, he spotted Sean sitting in the center. His previously cheerful demeanor instantly turned respectful.
After all, Sean was the lord of this town. Though the residents saw him often in daily life, they still became stiff and formal when meeting him alone.
"It's fine, have a seat here."
Watching the man awkwardly settle into a chair on the other side, Andermatt went to fetch the money.
In this small town, there weren't many shops. People often sold things to each other if they had extras, especially craftsmen like carpenters or spice makers, who were in high demand.
"You live... on the next street over?"
Sean rarely chatted with commoners, mostly due to his status.
When he went out, everyone liked to share their experiences with him, even lecturing him casually. But once his identity was known, they became reserved, answering only what was asked, afraid to speak freely.
Yet staying silent made him seem too stern!
"Yes, my lord. I live on the street behind, next to Hans the blacksmith." The man said with a forced smile.
There was only one blacksmith in town, so everyone knew who he meant.
"I see..."
The man smiled but said nothing, and Sean could see the statuses above his head: [Nervous!] and [At a loss!].
Tsk~
Sean didn't know how to continue the conversation, so he stopped trying. He just sat there, sipping his tea, letting both sides feel at ease.
After a moment, Andermatt came out of the room, handing a small pouch of coins to the man...
"Thank you so much, sorry for the trouble of coming all this way."
"Not at all, not at all... If Master Andermatt needs more next time, just let me know in advance so I can prepare."
"Well... there is something else. Does anyone in town have ink? I had someone bring some from the city, but the wagon hasn't returned yet... The guild's records ran out yesterday, and I can't find any for now." Andermatt said.
"Ink's gone?" Sean suddenly asked from his seat.
Most townsfolk were illiterate and rarely bought quills or ink. Shops didn't stock them either. Probably only Sean and the mercenary guild used them.
"Ah, yes, my lord..."
"Why didn't you tell me? I have plenty. I'll have Danti bring some over later." Sean said.
There were few truly capable people in this town. Andermatt was an experienced old hand, but he was already with the mercenary guild—otherwise, Sean would have tried to recruit him.
He wondered where the mercenary guild's headquarters was. Running such a massive organization must require a huge scale.
"I didn't want to disturb your work, my lord. I only came to ask because I heard there might be some here."
"Yes, yes... There used to be some, but last year, a traveler used it, and for some reason, it dried up." The man said.
"Wait, a traveler?"
"Staying at your place..."
"Yes, my lord. Around this time last year, a man came looking for a room to rent for a few days." The man recalled.
"There's an inn in town. Why didn't he stay there?"
Noticing Sean's serious expression, even Andermatt started asking what was wrong.
"I remember asking that too, but he said the inn wasn't comfortable—maybe he wasn't used to the mountain environment... You know, my lord, we have lots of bugs in summer. The inn, which isn't well-maintained, is hard to live in, so it made sense. He also paid well!"
Last year, around late summer to early autumn, when the previous Viscount Weigel was still alive...
"Do you remember what he looked like?" Sean asked urgently.
"Yes. He was quite sturdy, with dark skin, almost brownish-black. He even helped out a lot around the house. His arms were twice as thick as mine."
"An Edakian!" Andermatt said from the side.
"Edakian? What's that, Master Andermatt?"
The townsfolk barely knew about ethnic groups outside their area. They might not even know what the Zambutar region was, let alone Edakia or Amansha...
But hearing this, Sean suddenly understood. No wonder Igunia couldn't find any clues—the man hadn't stayed at the inn but at a private home.
"Do you remember what he wrote? Or his exact appearance?"
"Well... I don't know what he wrote, but he did ask me where to send letters... As for his looks..."
Most townsfolk were illiterate and couldn't read letters. Descriptions were usually vague—a head, two feet, dark skin—all standard traits for an Edakian.
"What's wrong, my lord?" The two asked curiously, but Sean raised a hand to stop them.
He needed to think...
Piece together the whole sequence of events and see if the timing matched.
Just then, the door knocked again. Andermatt opened it to find one of Sean's guards.
"My lord, Scholar Luke requests your return. A letter has arrived from Koga City."
A letter?
What correspondence from Koga City required his attention? Could it be the new Count Hamilton?
"Give me your address. I'll bring someone to check it out later... I'm investigating a theft case, so I'll need to look into all places where outsiders have stayed." Sean said, to avoid rumors. The man nodded, [Confused!].
Back home...
From a distance, he saw Luke and Esmeralda standing at the door, with Igunia there too.
"What happened?"
"It's Miss Aria. She sent a letter from Koga City."