The cold stone floors echoed with the dragging of metal. Chains rattled as Caelen and Ryan were forced into the grand manor, their wrists bound, their heads lowered. The luxurious halls of Lord Eric's estate were nothing short of royalty—polished floors, velvet curtains, and a throne-like chair elevated at the far end of the room. And there, seated smugly, was the man they had come to confront.
Lord Eric.
Caelen raised his eyes, his gaze sharp but calm. So he's the village head, he thought. If I remember correctly, his name is Eric…
Lord Eric leaned forward with arrogance spilling off him. "So, you two are the ones behind the production of the so-called 'Paradise Healing Juice,' are you?"
Caelen nodded politely. "Yes, my lord. If you'd like, I can prepare a mass supply just for—"
"Shut your mouth!" Eric bellowed, slamming his armrest. "Who gave you permission to speak?!"
Caelen held his silence. His expression didn't change.
