Jack pursed his lips and didn't speak immediately.
But Elias could clearly see an aggrieved yet affirmative answer in the young man's eyes.
It was as if his eyes were saying, Well, duh. If it weren't to save my own skin, who would willingly come to this godforsaken place to live next door to monsters?
Elias sank deep into the worn single sofa, the firelight dancing across his face.
He suddenly realized a blind spot he had completely overlooked before.
Before this, he had been trapped in a misconception.
He had assumed that the cultists of the Mist Veil Society were going through all this trouble simply to hunt down a local family here in Moon Bay.
After all, Firth's letter had stated clearly that their goal was to find the "descendants of Fortville."
However, if what Jack had just confessed was true...
The Fortville and Sorenstein families had shared the exact same ancestral origin centuries ago.
Didn't that mean the Mist Veil Society wasn't actually hunting down a specific, single branch?
What they wanted to purge was every single descendant who had inherited that bloodline!
Elias clicked his tongue in his mind.
He suddenly recalled that during their confrontation earlier, Jack had asked Ophelia a peculiar question.
At the time, the young man from Landon had been completely on guard, immediately asking if Ophelia was from the “Stein” family.
Elias shifted his stiff body and looked up at Jack.
“So, when you asked Ophelia earlier if she was from the ‘Stein’ family...”
He paused, a hint of amusement in his tone.
“Is that also the surname of one of the bastard branches?”
Jack shifted uncomfortably in his seat and shrank his neck.
“Yes.”
The young man nodded honestly, not daring to hide a single thing.
“It's another surname used by our family's bastard branches.”
“Under the laws of the Kingdom of Velen, descendants who fail to make it onto the family registry are only given these truncated names.”
Hearing this, Elias couldn't help but sigh deeply.
“Your family's ancestors certainly had a colorful love life...”
“It couldn't be helped.”
Jack shrugged helplessly.
“The family history goes back a long way...”
“It's hard to avoid that sort of thing.”
Elias waved his hand, cutting off the young man's self-deprecation.
He had absolutely no interest in researching the romantic escapades of historical relics.
“So, that means the Mist Veil Society has been hunting down everyone with Fortville blood?”
Elias dragged the conversation back on track.
Compared to a century-spanning family drama, he was clearly much more interested in the raw motivations of these cultists.
“It seems so.”
Jack also fell into deep thought, a trace of confusion flashing in his clear eyes.
“Unfortunately, I don't know much about the family.”
“I'm just a bastard, so there wasn't much I could access.”
Elias observed the youth's earnest expression.
This indicated that the other party indeed wasn't lying.
“Perhaps the Fortville bloodline shares some unspeakable history with that ‘Lord’.”
Elias said casually.
Watching Jack's face turn increasingly pale, he stood up and slipped the two guns into his pockets.
“Relax.”
He patted Jack's shoulder, his tone perfunctory.
“Even if there is, they wouldn't let someone like you know.”
Jack: “...”
The young man was choked up by this heavy consolation, momentarily unsure whether to laugh or cry.
Elias had no intention of giving him time to wallow in self-pity.
“But before I decide to let you stay, I'm going down to take a look.”
As Elias spoke, he cast his gaze toward the trapdoor in the corner of the wooden cabin.
The dark opening resembled a wide-gaping mouth, constantly exhaling the damp, chilly air unique to underground spaces.
“Hey!”
Seeing this, Jack's expression changed dramatically. He hurriedly pushed himself up from his chair and made a move to chase after him.
“Sir, you are trespassing on private property!”
The youth's voice carried a hint of annoyance at his territory being violated.
He quickly lunged in front of Elias, spreading his arms in an attempt to block his senior from the trapdoor.
Elias stopped and looked at him.
“Private property?”
He looked as if he had just heard an incredibly hilarious joke.
In the next second, Elias reached out his right hand, placed it on Jack's shoulder, and swept him aside.
Jack's feet slipped, and he was easily shoved out of the way.
“While I am on duty, this entire island is under my jurisdiction.”
Elias lazily withdrew his hand, not even breaking a sweat.
“And that includes this basement I didn't know about before!”
“What private property do you have?”
He glanced at Jack, who had slumped into the corner.
Without the slightest hesitation, Elias took a long stride and headed down the straight stone staircase.
His voice was amplified infinitely in the enclosed passage, carrying a playful echo that drifted back up through the trapdoor opening.
“Don't forget.”
“I still have your ancestral flintlock pistol.”
“You'd better cooperate.”
Leaning against the wall, Jack punched the floor in frustration.
“Dammit!”
The young man from Landon muttered an angry curse, but he cared far more about that old antique handed down through his family.
He scrambled up and hurriedly ran down after Elias.
Following the square, spiral staircase downward, Elias descended step by step into the darkness.
The air here was much colder and damper than above, carrying a heavy, fishy odor.
When his feet finally touched the flat ground of the lowest level, Elias laid eyes on this hidden room he had overlooked for the first time.
He raised an eyebrow, a flash of surprise crossing his eyes.
To his surprise, this room was much more spacious than the basement directly beneath the lighthouse where Old Ed kept his dried corpses and specimens.
Rather than a room, it was more like a massive cellar that had been meticulously expanded.
The surrounding walls were made of rough, dark gray stone, bearing faint, old marks left by pickaxes.
Unfortunately, it was completely empty.
The temperature was also slightly lower than upstairs.
However, there were already some signs of Jack's daily life set up inside.
Bedding, a windproof oil lamp emitting a faint yellow glow, and an extinguished campfire in the center.
And right next to the bedding...
Elias's gaze instantly locked onto something.
A neat stack of books sat right there.
With thick leather covers and obscure gold-embossed characters, they exuded the temptation of knowledge in the dim light.
Now this was the good stuff!
Once upon a time, he had also possessed a burning desire to buy books and study mysticism systematically.
After all, listening to a neurotic spiritual body lecture in his head every day left too little room for error.
He desperately needed some orthodox textbooks to brainwash himself.
But when he had no money, he had plenty of time; by the time he finally got some money, he had no time at all.
This had left him with no suitable opportunity to purchase a few books on mysticism to read.
Wasn't this just the perfect timing?
Elias chuckled inwardly.
Almost instinctively, he stepped forward and walked toward the stack of books on the floor.
At this moment, Jack finally made it down the stairs, panting heavily.
The cellar was very dimly lit, and as the young man looked up, he saw Elias eagerly heading toward his private collection.
The young man from Landon instantly felt a massive headache coming on, his scalp tingling with panic.
“Uh, sir, those...”
Jack tried to stop him, a hint of unconcealable panic in his voice.
However, it was already too late.
Elias had already bent down and smoothly pulled out the top book.
It had a soft-textured, black leather cover.
Aided by his 【Darkvision】, Elias clearly read the line of gold-embossed Velen script on the title page.
“《Forbidden Fruit: A Lady's Private Manuscript》?!”
“What the hell?!”
His tone even took a bizarre, high-pitched turn due to his sheer shock.
This wasn't some forbidden supernatural grimoire on mysticism at all.
This was a damn smutty novel popular in Landon's high society!
“Dammit!”
He whipped his head around, staring at the red-faced Jack, veins popping on his forehead.
“What the hell are you reading?!”
Rate on N.U.
