I Died and Became a Noble's Heir

Chapter 572 572: I See No Lord

Within ten minutes, he was mounted on a horse the riders had brought, the three of them departing from the villa as purple mist swirled around them in the darkness.

The corrupted forest seemed even more oppressive at night, with twisted trees and supernatural fog creating an atmosphere that perfectly matched Young Lord Baleʼs internal state.

His mind raced during the ride, cycling through the same questions repeatedly without finding satisfactory answers.

What did Kaiser want?

Why demand his presence?

What could the second condition possibly be that required a bound beast to deliver it?

The riders maintained a steady pace, their military training letting them navigate the corrupted landscape despite poor visibility.

Young Lord Bale followed mechanically, too consumed by anxiety to pay attention to the route or the surroundings.

Two hours of travel that felt like eternity, purple mist growing thicker as they approached the fortress, twisted vegetation pressing closer to the path as if the forest itself was trying to impede their progress.

Then, finally, torchlight was visible ahead.

The fortress walls, still exhibiting evidence of the recent siege, were manned by defenders who displayed a renewed discipline.

A competent individual had assumed command of the situation.

Young Lord Baleʼs teeth found his fingernails again as they approached the gates, anxiety building to a peak as he realized there was no escape except to face whatever demands were about to be made and hope survival was possible.

The gates swung open as they approached, revealing a courtyard still packed with soldiers and dominated by the presence of 247 minotaurs who watched the new arrivals.

A faint chuckling could be heard as they set their eyes on Young Lord Baleʼs obvious terror.

They clearly found the young boy funny to watch.

The courtyard remained tense with anticipation as Young Lord Laurence Bale dismounted from his horse with shaking hands.

His gait was somewhat unsteady, causing his boots to strike the cobblestones with varying force.

The two riders whoʼd escorted him from the villa moved to flank his position, their presence more protective than threatening despite the obvious discomfort of watching their lord barely maintain composure.

Hundreds of soldiers lined the walls and filled the open spaces, their attention fixed on the scene unfolding in the courtyardʼs center.

Torches cast flickering light across faces that showed a mixture of curiosity, contempt, and professional neutrality as they watched their new lord arrive to face whatever judgment Jack Kaiser had arranged.

The minotaurs were everywhere.

Two hundred forty-seven massive figures positioned throughout the fortress.

Some stood guard along the ramparts where defenders had been fighting serpents just hours ago, and others occupied strategic positions within the courtyard itself.

Their enormous frames and weapons created a presence that dominated the entire garrison, even though they did not actively threaten anyone.

And sitting in the middle of it all, positioned on a massive pile of sandbags that had been arranged into something resembling a chair suitable for a twelve-foot-tall creature, was Brutus.

The largest of the minotaurs commanded attention simply through his size and bearing.

His muscular frame was relaxed despite the obvious tension in the air, one massive hand resting casually on the handle of a war hammer that looked like it could pulverize the castle wall with a single swing.

The red spark in his eyes flickered as he watched Laurence approach.

He scoffed as he found the young lordʼs terror mildly entertaining.

A thick metal ring hung from Brutusʼs nose.

The accessory was new, something Jack had given him recently, marking his status as alpha.

The aesthetic choice made the minotaurʼs already intimidating appearance even more formidable.

Steam hissed from Brutusʼs nostrils as he exhaled, the warm breath visible in the cool night air, creating small clouds that dissipated slowly in the purple mist still lingering at the courtyardʼs edges.

Laurence stopped twenty feet from the sandbag throne, his hands wringing together unconsciously as he tried to summon whatever dignity he could manage.

His expensive clothing looked ridiculous in this context.

The exquisite fabrics and sophisticated styling of his attire, more suited for social gatherings at a villa than the rigors of a military stronghold, accentuated his youth and his apparent incongruity with the setting, even beyond what his years might otherwise imply.

Brutusʼs voice rumbled across the courtyard, deep and carrying enough that every soldier present could hear clearly despite not being shouted. ”So you are the young lord who is too afraid to lead his own men?”

The question hung in the air with palpable gravity, an indictment veiled in disdain that made several soldiers uneasy.

Laurenceʼs mouth opened, words tumbling out in a rush of defensive explanation. ”I... thatʼs not entirely fair, you see, the situation was complicated, and I had administrative duties that required my attention, and the Captain is perfectly capable of handling military matters without my direct...”

”Shut up.” Brutusʼs interruption was flat, cutting through Laurenceʼs rambling with force that made the young lordʼs jaw snap closed involuntarily. ”You are a waste of space. What is your name, trash?”

Laurence blinked, confusion mixing with his fear as he processed the question. ”I... Iʼm Young Lord Bale, heir to the Bale family holdings and rightful ruler of this territory by hereditary...”

Brutus stood up abruptly, the movement was smooth despite his massive size, rising from the sandbag throne to tower over everything in the courtyard.

He stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and Laurence in two strides that covered ground faster than the young lord could process.

Then Brutus lowered his head, bringing his face down to Laurenceʼs level, close enough that the steam from his nostrils washed across the young lordʼs features with each breath.

The metal ring in his nose was inches from Laurenceʼs face, close enough to see the intricate craftsmanship that had gone into its creation.

”You are weak and an embarrassment,” Brutus stated, his voice carrying absolute certainty that brooked no argument.

”I see no lord in front of me. I see a coward who hides in a villa while soldiers die defending territory he inherited but never earned.”

His gaze bored into Laurenceʼs with intensity that made the young lord take an involuntary step backward. ”What is your name, human?”

The emphasis on the last word made it clear that Brutus wasnʼt asking for a title or position.

He wanted his actual name, the identity beneath the inherited status.

Laurenceʼs resistance crumbled completely, his voice barely above a whisper as he answered. ”Laurence Bale.”

Brutus remained motionless for several seconds, steam continuing to hiss from his nostrils as he studied the cowering human in front of him.

Then his consciousness reached along the Soul Link connecting him to Jack, thoughts and awareness interfacing with his masterʼs mind across the distance that separated them.

Jackʼs mental voice was clear despite being hours away. ʼOpen your hand. Give him the item. All he has to do is sign.ʼ

Brutus straightened slightly, his massive right hand extending palm-up as reality rippled above his fingers.

A portal materialized. It was a small tear in space that glowed faintly with the same energy that powered Jackʼs various abilities.

The scroll dropped through the opening, falling six inches before landing perfectly in Brutusʼs waiting palm.

The portal closed immediately, leaving no evidence it had ever existed except for the contract now resting in the minotaurʼs hand.