A heavy silence enveloped the room. Neither Mordret nor Maria uttered a word. Presently, Maria donned Eliza's gown as her nightdress had become soaked.

The situation was intricate. 'What happened?' Mordret pondered. Thanks to his passive skill <Calm>, he managed to maintain composure.

After Maria awoke, she dreaded discovering her condition. She observed herself in a damp dress and sheets, struggling to believe it. The disorientation, tousled hair, weary appearance, and the overall atmosphere of the room—based on a fleeting glance—initially led her to think that she had spent the night with Mordret.

Yet, she resisted that notion. "M-my Lord. It can't be true, can it? W-what occurred last night?" Her words stumbled, her heart racing wildly.

For a widow like Maria, the gravity of the situation exceeded that for Mordret. Instinctively, her hands reached her abdomen. Upon confirming, she released a sigh. When her gaze met Eliza's, she shook her head. At least, nothing untoward had occurred.

"I've been waiting for you to explain. Do you recall anything from last night, Chieftess Maria?" Mordret's query was delivered calmly. Even amidst such circumstances, he maintained a safe distance from her.

Zephyr marveled at how the passive skill <Calm> managed to reduce the panic nearly to zero. Disregarding the onslaught of negative thoughts aided him in considering every possible scenario.

After contemplation, Mordret confirmed his suspicion. The faint memory of last night, when he had invited the Chieftess to sit and converse, seemed to have faded from his mind as if deliberately erased.

"My Lord, I recollect that we were conversing. I was recounting a tale... someone who—wait! Why did I come to you, my Lord?" Maria's forehead furrowed as she inquired.

Slowly, her head shook, and she began to ramble while clutching her hair tightly. 'Has she truly forgotten the reason?' Mordret evaluated Maria's behavior.

With each passing moment, her mental state deteriorated, and panic overtook her. "I cannot recall! I-I-I apologize, My Lord!" Maria attempted to flee the mansion, leaving Eliza and Mordret alone.

However, Mordret was quicker, and before Maria could step out, he issued an authoritative command, "Stop!"

Maria halted instantly, compelled to obey her Lord's order. "Return here," she was left with no alternative but to comply.

'I'd prefer to investigate something before entertaining the possibility of falsehood.' A notion struck Mordret, propelling him to explore. Moving calmly to the couch where he had left the Viscount's response letter the previous night, he searched for the scroll with the Viscount's emblem.

A frown etched on Mordret's countenance, reflecting the turmoil within him. "Eliza, find the letter bearing the Viscount's insignia. The one with a shield with two crossed swords and two angel wings." Eliza promptly followed her Lord's directive, wasting no time.

Although her eyes were swollen, the sincerity in her Lord's gaze informed her that something was amiss. 'Should anyone be tricking my Lord, I swear in the name of my clan to eliminate them mercilessly.' Her eyes blazed with an intense fire as she scoured the entire residence.

'Did an intruder infiltrate the house last night? Did I become too lax in my duties? And... why am I also unable to recollect anything after serving tea to my Lord in the hall?' Eliza decided to share this information with Mordret later.

In a realm of their own, Eliza and Mordret's focus diverged from the world around them. Meanwhile, Maria couldn't help but feel dazed. 'Am I the sole mad person here?' She pondered inwardly. Observing the composed demeanor of Mordret and Eliza, she sensed her own incongruity.

After a while, Mordret settled into his chair, retracing his memories. 'Last night, Jon departed... then Maria entered... She disclosed that her daughter, Rebecca, had betrayed the Lord... Yet, I cannot recollect anything thereafter. It's all hazy. Who possesses the capability to alter or erase one's memories?' Mordret meticulously organized his thoughts.

Just to be certain, he promptly fetched a journal documenting the abilities and attributes of the villagers and opened it.

"Maria, when were these records last updated?" He inquired. Although the chieftess was too taken aback to offer an immediate response, she composed herself and answered.

"My Lord, those records were last updated four months ago," Mordret acknowledged her words with a hum and—

'Rebecca Crestfall: Not Awakened.' Mordret located the name of the likely culprit. However, this newfound information posed an obstacle to his suspicions.

"Chieftess Maria, have any new individuals awakened? Those who haven't yet been included in the records?" He queried.

"No, My Lord. As far as I know, no one has awakened in the past four months." The quiver in her voice did not escape Mordret's notice. Though she responded, her complexion turned even paler, and her body language displayed unease. Maria continued to adjust her gown nervously.

‘It's rather easier than I anticipated,’ Mordret sighed, his gaze drifting to the ceiling. All the evidence he had amassed strongly implicated Rebecca as the mastermind behind it all.

Numerous possibilities loomed, but for Mordret, the most concerning was the potential of Maria deceiving him or attempting to shield her daughter. Not only did this make Mordret warier of Maria, but the loss of a shrewd political mind with a dangerously silver tongue was not something he could afford.

‘Regrettably, she remains a suspect as well.’ Mordret's gaze fixed on Maria, who struggled to contain her ample breasts within Eliza's gown. The buttons on her gown's bosom strained under the weight of her considerable assets.

To Mordret, however, this discomfort was a signal of her unease while responding to his inquiries. After a moment of contemplation, he suggested, "Chieftess Maria, you should return home and rest for a while. Nonetheless, try to recollect—"

Before Mordret could finish his sentence, the clamor of an agitated crowd outside his mansion reached his ears.

"What is he up to?"

"Is he challenging the Lord with that drawn sword?"

"Gods! Someone restrain him! We cannot risk harming either the Lord or him!"

The hushed murmurs of the crowd penetrated Mordret's walls. However, before long, a forceful banging against his mansion's doors reverberated.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Baron Mordret Valorborn!! Get out, you bastard!!" A man's furious roar echoed.