The City Lord was dead. Not just him, but everyone inside the Mansion was also dead.
The bag filled with herbs fell on the ground as the Scholarly Man dropped to his knees. Tears welled up in his eyes, grief and disbelief intertwining in his heart.
'So this guy was the son of the City Lord. No wonder he had taken this responsibility and knew so much. He buried himself quite deep.' Karyk watched the young man from a distance.
"It's all my fault! I was too late! It's all my fault!" the young man repeated, his voice trembling with anguish. He cradled the lifeless body of the City Lord in his arms, wishing he could turn back time and prevent this tragedy from unfolding. The weight of responsibility crushed him as he blamed himself.
The Scholarly Man looked at Karyk, tears streaming down his face. "No...no, please, there must be something we can do! Please help me! It's you, you should be able to..."
