"Is this the manor of Alando Toure?" Sigurd looked at the rusty gate in front of him, its frame completely detached, and the cracked, collapsed wall.
He could see inside through the broken wall and iron door. A lawn overgrown with weeds filled the space. A stone path cut through the middle, but it was covered in dirt and moss.
It looked like no one had been here for a long time.
The path led straight to a three-story building shrouded in ivy and other creeping plants. Some sections of the wall had crumbled from long-term neglect.
Even beneath the overgrowth, one could imagine the building's former exquisiteness.
But now, it was just a dilapidated and deserted manor.
Looking at the scene, Sigurd turned to Ed with a head full of question marks and couldn't help but ask, "How did you do it? You just walked around the city and knew there was treasure here? That's nonsense. You could at least have a better excuse, like an old man told you about it for a price."
Turning his head, Ed glanced at Sigurd with an expressionless face, raised a hand, and tapped his own temple. "That's why I'm a treasure hunter, and you are just a handyman."
"Tsk." Sigurd rolled his eyes and turned away. "Why are you showing off?"
The location on the map was this abandoned manor. When they first arrived, they had asked people nearby, who confirmed it was indeed Toure's manor.
"Let's just go in," Ed said, leading the way toward the building. Sigurd followed after a quick glance around to confirm no one was watching them; asking so many questions had inevitably raised some suspicion.
The stone path, long unmaintained, was soft and slippery from the previous day's rain, leaving their footprints clear behind them.
Arriving beside the building, Sigurd stepped forward and knocked on the surrounding walls. "No problem, it's still very sturdy," He declared.
As he spoke, Sigurd took out the fire torch he had been carrying and lit it with a flint. Though light entered through the windows and crumbling walls, the interior was dim due to the thick coverage of plants and vines.
Ed carefully stepped forward, drawing the sailor's knife from his waist. Watching him, Sigurd also rested his hand on his own knife handle, frowning. "Is it dangerous?" He asked.
"Better safe than sorry," Ed replied seriously.
The last treasure had a "Teenager" difficulty rating. While Ed felt it was accurate, the sudden resurrection of his mother's skeleton had terrified him. He later reasoned that if he hadn't been there, the corpse would never have animated. From that perspective, it was a treasure that an ordinary adult could obtain, the main challenge being the climb to the cliff cave. But with the "Hercules" difficulty of this one, who knew if enemies were waiting in ambush? Caution was paramount.
Slowly, the two entered the manor. The first space they encountered appeared to be the main hall.
"Everything of value has been stripped. Looking at the gaps in the walls, the surrounding residents probably took the bricks and tiles," Sigurd remarked, his gaze lingering on the dilapidated room with a hint of envy, clearly calculating the profit from such salvage.
Unbeknownst to Sigurd, Ed kicked at the dust and dead leaves scattered at their feet. It seemed no one had been here for years. The portable furniture was gone, but some wooden cabinets built into the walls remained. There were signs of small fires and temporary habitation; after all, an abandoned manor was a perfect shelter for someone in trouble, a secret base for children, or a private spot for young couples.
"With such a large place, where could the treasure be hidden? Are you even sure there's treasure here?" Sigurd asked, tapping the walls with his knife handle.
"If you're in such a hurry, you can go back. I don't mind more money for myself. But if you complain later, I'll make sure you can't enter your own house for a few days," Ed "consoled" him in a tone closer to a threat, before starting to patrol the hall. Sigurd, wisely, fell silent and followed.
To get the treasure, you need the strength to match the difficulty. Where could it be? Ed thought, frowning. This was definitely the second time since being reborn into this world that he was using his brain so seriously.
"Let's walk around the manor first. Check every room and see if we can find any clues."
"No problem."
Wary of potential danger and Sigurd's unreliability, Ed kept them together. Even if they split up, he'd have to check everywhere eventually. The two men held their torches aloft and began to explore the manor. Ed carried a straight wooden stick, tapping it against floors and walls.
"Using the knocking sound to find a hollow space?" Sigurd asked casually, observing the strange behavior.
"You could say that."
They chatted idly while inspecting the rooms one by one. After combing the entire first floor, they found nothing but emptiness.
They proceeded to the second floor. Most rooms here contained wooden beds that hadn't been removed, likely servants' quarters or guest rooms.
Another complete search yielded nothing. Ed couldn't help but complain, "This manor is picked clean. I'm shocked those bastards didn't take the foundation stones."
Just as they finished the second floor, a sudden sound came from above.
"Crunch!"
Hearing it, Ed and Sigurd immediately raised their knives and looked at the ceiling. They exchanged a glance and a nod of understanding.
Sigurd made a "shushing" gesture and shook his head. Ed nodded in agreement. The two moved quietly toward the staircase, which they had noted earlier was the only one in the building.
Torches held high, they crept upstairs. However, upon reaching the third floor, they saw only a broken door creaking in the breeze. The room's window was shattered, and a corner of the wall had collapsed, allowing the dim light of dusk to filter in.
"Phew, it was just the wind. It scared me," Ed said with an exaggerated sigh of relief. He turned and blinked at Sigurd, who paused for a moment before catching on and nodding in understanding.
"Let's see if there's anything to find on the third floor," Ed announced, beginning to search the rooms. Sigurd followed closely, his knife now held at the ready, the magician's ring granting him basic magical literacy.
In truth, Ed had realized something was wrong the moment they reached the top. The creak they heard downstairs couldn't have come from that door; its sound wasn't that loud. Furthermore, the noise had come from directly above their heads at the time, and they weren't near the stairs then. How could they have seen the source so easily?
There was definitely someone else here. There were subtle traces around, as if someone had hidden in a hurry without time to cover their tracks.
The two wandered until they reached a room larger than the others, featuring a small balcony. They stepped out onto it and looked around.
Ed pointed his long knife under the balcony's edge, his voice cold and threatening. "Come out. I've seen you."
There was a small depression beneath the balcony, holding a puddle of rainwater. The figure clinging to the underside was vaguely reflected on the water's surface. Sigurd immediately moved to a defensive position, knife ready.
The person didn't respond, probably thinking Ed was bluffing and hadn't truly spotted the reflection.
Ed sighed helplessly. He had no choice but to reveal what he knew, mentally labeling this person an idiot on par with Sigurd.
"Yellow hair, brown pants, red shirt..."
"Okay, okay, you win," a frustrated voice called out. A figure climbed up from beneath the balcony, grabbed the edge, and vaulted onto it, landing in a crouch to steady himself. He casually adjusted the hat on his head—a garish pink thing with "I Love Mama" scrawled across it, which looked utterly ridiculous on a grown man.