61: Chapter 61 Inventorying the Spoils of War! Count Farrell's Fury!

The next day.

Snow Velvet Manor, top floor master bedroom.

Rowan was wearing a comfortable velvet bathrobe.

On the table in front of him, the important spoils brought back from the Mess Mountains were neatly laid out.

First were the materials from that Green-Crowned Vine Python.

A dark green magic crystal.

Even from a short distance away, one could feel the surging natural magic contained within it.

This was a top-tier material for crafting high-level magic accessories, enchanted weapons, or certain precious potions.

Its market value was approximately 1,200 gold coins.

Beside it was a sac-like object wrapped in a thin membrane.

It was the size of a pigeon egg, emitted a faint sweet, fishy scent, and was translucent.

The Green-Crowned poison sac was a high-quality raw material for refining certain highly toxic potions and was quite valuable.

Its market value was approximately 400 gold coins.

Finally, there was a snake gallbladder that was a deep greenish-blue, with naturally occurring mysterious vine-like patterns on its surface.

The Green Vine Snake Gallbladder was a treasure even among high-order magical beast materials and was a main ingredient for concocting various Knight-tier secret potions.

Its value was approximately 300 gold coins.

Just these three main materials from the Green-Crowned Vine Python had a total value approaching 2,000 gold coins.

Next were the legacies from the three Knights.

Several heavy money bags were poured out.

Golden Imperial gold coins were piled on the table, shining brightly.

There were also some large-denomination credit banknotes from the Velantia United Bank with anti-counterfeiting magic patterns.

Some high-quality gemstones.

They were all hard currency.

A rough count showed they were worth over 2,000 gold coins.

Finally.

There were some valuable personal items.

Ravenna's magic short wand, magic robe, and several rings inlaid with various colored gemstones...

Kyle and Harold's body armor and weapons...

Rowan's gaze lingered on these items for a moment.

After thinking about it, he ultimately shook his head and set these items, which were easy to trace back to their source, aside.

That Kyle had claimed to be the son of Duke Witton before he died; although he didn't know if it was true or false, it was better to be safe than sorry.

He would not easily sell these items that could become clues and bring him unnecessary trouble.

Perhaps he could smelt them down in the future or dispose of them through more secretive channels.

"Adding up all the scattered items, this hunting trip should yield an income of approximately 5,000 gold coins."

Rowan calculated in his heart, a flash of satisfaction in his eyes.

This was enough to support him using the lionheart dawn secret potion for a long time, and he wouldn't need to worry about gold coins anymore.

As expected, crime pays well.

This was much faster than him working hard to make potions to sell, and it even increased his skill proficiency.

However, it was a pity that after searching through all the items, he did not find any scrolls related to a Breathing Technique.

It seemed that neither Kyle nor Harold had the habit of carrying their Breathing Technique with them.

After roughly counting the spoils, Rowan picked up his hot tea, took a gentle sip, and began to ponder:

"Most of the ones circulating on the market are rough, common goods that are useless to me."

"Every superior-grade Breathing Technique has its own history and heritage, and they only appear on the black market, but very rarely."

"Even if they occasionally leak out, they are easily traced by the original owner or related forces; they are hot potatoes."

This was also the reason why he had never thought about selling the Breathing Technique he had obtained.

The water here is too deep.

As soon as the news was released, before even finding a buyer, the information would likely appear on someone's desk.

But his lv2 Myriad Furnace Breathing Technique had not yet filled its furnace; it was expected to be able to accommodate three to four more blue traits.

He needed more Breathing Techniques to accelerate this process and reach the fastest cultivation speed.

"Superior-grade Breathing Technique..." Rowan looked out the window at the shimmering lake, his gaze deep.

"It would be even better if there were a perfect-grade Breathing Technique."

"Smelting a perfect-grade trait would probably be enough to completely fill his current lv2 Myriad Phenomena Melting Furnace."

Unfortunately, as far as he knew, the strongest in Gino County, the Earl Farrells Estate, only passed down the top-tier superior Breathing Technique.

The ruler of Will Province, Duke Witton's estate, might possess a perfect-grade Breathing Technique, but that was too far away from him.

Judging from Kyle's strength, he was also only cultivating a superior-grade Breathing Technique.

Even if he really was the Duke's son, he was definitely not a core descendant; he didn't even have the qualifications to cultivate a perfect Breathing Technique.

The higher the level of the Breathing Technique, the more exponentially the requirements for the cultivator's talent and resources increased, and naturally, the greater the power.

A perfect-grade Breathing Technique was something that only the core descendants of true great nobles had the opportunity to come into contact with.

"One must take things one step at a time." Rowan withdrew his gaze and sorted the counted spoils into the silver star ring.

...

Meanwhile.

Southeast of Gino City, the Golden Flame Earl Manor.

Unlike the tranquility of Snow Velvet Manor.

The atmosphere inside the Earl's manor was so oppressive that it was suffocating.

The servants were walking on tiptoe, not daring to make any loud noises, and even breathing was deliberately quiet.

In the study.

Count Farrell sat behind a huge oak table and asked again in a low, steady voice:

"Ravenna, Kyle, and the others... as well as the guards they took with them, have they not returned yet?"

The butler's Adam's apple bobbed, his voice dry:

"Rep... Reporting to Master, not yet. According to the schedule, the hunting party should have returned to the city by last night at the latest."

"From last night to this morning, I have already sent out three waves of fast riders to search along the routes they might have taken, and notified the outposts along the way to keep a lookout. Currently... there is no report back."

The study fell into a deathly silence.

After a long while, Count Farrell slowly stood up.

His face still showed no intense expression, and he was even calmer than usual.

But deep within those eyes, which were always deep and unfathomable, it seemed as if undercurrents were surging wildly.

Mixed with scrutiny, suspicion, and a trace of forcibly suppressed anger.

He swept his gaze over the three people in front of him who were trembling in fear, his eyes finally landing on the Knight responsible for family intelligence.

"Have there been any abnormalities in the Mess Mountains recently? Magical beast riots? Or... traces of Great Knight-level powerhouses active there?"

The Knight quickly bowed: "Your subordinate has urgently reviewed the relevant records and questioned the nearby secret sentries."

"There have been no reports of large-scale magical beast anomalies in the inner circle of the Mess Mountains recently. Apart from regular adventurers and mercenaries, no suspicious personnel have been found..."

After listening, Count Farrell's brows furrowed imperceptibly, then immediately relaxed.

"Then continue searching! Send more men and expand the search range. If they are alive, I want to see them; if they are dead... I want to see their bodies."

He paused, his voice becoming increasingly cold, and continued: "Also, in my name, notify the City Defense Army and the Security Bureau to assist in the search."

"Remember, keep the news blocked for now, especially do not alert Duke Witton's estate until we confirm the situation."

"Yes!" The three responded in unison and exited the study as if granted amnesty.

The heavy carved wooden door slowly closed.

Count Farrell stood alone in the empty study, his gaze cast upon the huge map of the Northern Territory on the wall.

Ravenna was one of his favorite sons, a Second-circle Mage, and also represented the face of the Farrell Family.

Kyle Wheaton was a descendant of the Wheaton family, although it was said he was not well-liked by Duke Witton.

But if something really happened to him on his own territory...

The consequences would be unimaginable.

Was it an accident?

Was it magical beasts?

Or... was it man-made?

Cold light flickered in his eyes, and countless thoughts raced through his mind.

A moment later, a search team composed of Farrell Family elite Knights and guides familiar with the mountain forests quietly left the Earl's manor, carrying a heavy, murderous atmosphere, and galloped off in the direction of the Mess Mountains.