The Majestic Heir

Chapter 7 - Small Goblin

“Why are you letting that young man do these insane things?” Cynthia Brown, the beautiful wife of the mayor, stomped her foot angrily as the bodyguards placed bowls filled with red liquid at specific points around their house.

Like her husband, she had initially thought Helma herself would come to their home. However, her disappointment was evident when the master instead sent her disciple.

Her disappointment grew into fury as the disciple started doing bizarre and incomprehensible things in her house.

“New, I don’t care! You have to stop them immediately!” she snapped, pointing toward the bodyguards.

“Darling, calm down. This is all for our safety.”

“Safety? You’re driving me insane!” she screamed before storming into the house and slamming the door.

Ignoring his wife’s outburst, Newell continued helping place the bowls at doorways and beneath windows. The evening was fast approaching, and he knew he couldn’t afford any delays.

Earlier, when Marc had instructed them to slaughter some animals and collect their blood, Newell had hesitated. Seeing the doubt on the mayor’s face, Marc had patted his shoulder with a reassuring smile.

“Trust me. I’ll catch the culprit tonight. If my guess is correct, this is the best way to do it,” Marc said, his eyes glinting with determination.

As the sun set and twilight descended, an eerie stillness enveloped the house, as if no living creature dared remain there.

“Mr. Belmont, what should I do now?” Standing near the front door, Newell appeared nervous, sweat glistening on his forehead.

The 15th night of the month—it was the same date when his belongings and money would mysteriously vanish every month. Marc’s claim that the culprit wasn’t human made his heart race even faster.

“Remember what I told you. No matter what happens, don’t open the doors or windows. Okay?”

The mayor nodded. “I’ll remember.”

Marc then snapped his fingers near the door handle, just as he had done with the door of his own apartment. He repeated the same gesture on the back door and all the windows.

“Don’t let anyone in,” Marc instructed the bodyguards stationed around the house. “And if you see anything unusual, inform me immediately, alright?”

“Yes, Mr. Belmont.”

Marc then headed to the empty plot of land behind the house, where the severed heads of the slaughtered animals had been stacked on the ground.

“Mr. Belmont, are you sure this is what the creature wants?” Jonas, the family butler, nervously checked his holstered pistol while eyeing the gruesome pile of heads. Like the mayor, this was his first encounter with something supernatural.

“One hundred percent,” Marc replied, his eyes sharp. “There’s nothing they desire more than this.”

Four hours passed, and the surroundings grew pitch black. Aside from the distant hoots of owls from the forest and the occasional sound of nocturnal animals, there was nothing unusual to be seen or heard.

“Isn’t it natural to fear the dark?” Jonas thought to himself. Slowly, the fear in his heart began to fade. “It doesn’t necessarily mean something dangerous will appear—it’s just an innate human instinct.”

However, when Jonas glanced at Marc, who was sitting cross-legged on the ground with his eyes closed, he shook his head in disbelief. “Seriously? He’s sleeping?”

The butler couldn’t comprehend how the young man before him could remain so calm in such a perilous situation. As the master, Marc should be acting more serious and reassuring.

“Good grief, could Mrs. Cynthia be right? Is this kid just full of wild ideas?”

Earlier, Cynthia had ordered Jonas to kick Marc out, claiming she couldn’t stand his strange methods. “If you trust someone who uses such ridiculous and disgusting methods to catch a criminal, maybe your brain isn’t functioning properly either,” she had said.

Having served the Brown family as their butler for ten years, Jonas knew Cynthia to be a highly intelligent woman with a broad worldview. If it weren’t for Newell giving Marc a chance, Jonas would have sent the young man away hours ago.

Looking at Marc again, Jonas concluded that the twenty-year-old had likely watched too many TV shows. “He must’ve seen some shaman performing this kind of ritual in a movie and decided to imitate it.”

“If the mysterious theft happens again and he can’t do anything, I’ll personally teach him a lesson,” Jonas thought, glaring at Marc with disdain. Instead of wasting his time waiting for something undefined, Jonas decided to keep a close eye on the young man.

Two hours later, exactly at midnight, a thin mist suddenly enveloped the house. At the same time, the night air became piercingly cold.

The bodyguards, who had remained on alert, began tugging at their collars and rubbing their hands together. The biting chill grew increasingly unbearable, and soon they found their eyelids growing heavy.

Within seconds, the bodyguards collapsed onto the ground, falling into a deep sleep.

Meanwhile, Cynthia, who was lying in her plush bed, pulled her blanket off in frustration. “This is ridiculous! Why should I even entertain that strange young man’s demands?”

She was convinced that the bowls of blood placed around the house would attract not protection, but mosquitoes and bacteria—or worse, wild animals.

Her decision was final. “I need to get rid of those bowls right now.”

When Cynthia stepped out of her bedroom, she saw Newell asleep on the sofa near the door. “Newell, your position as mayor apparently doesn’t make you any smarter. You let a college kid deceive you so easily.”

Exhausted and deep in sleep, the mayor didn’t notice his wife opening the door.

As Cynthia bent down to pick up one of the bowls, she spotted a small child crouched near it. “Theo?”

Theo was the Brown family’s eight-year-old son.

“What are you doing? Get away from that disgusting thing and go back to your room!” Cynthia scolded, placing her hand on the child’s shoulder, her frustration mounting at her youngest son’s strange behavior. But when she turned him around, her face turned pale.

The small creature had the horrifying face of an old man. Its eyes glowed blood-red, and its sharp teeth gleamed menacingly.

“Aaaaargh!”

Cynthia recoiled in terror. “Y-you… you…” she stammered, unable to form coherent words.

Within seconds, she collapsed to the floor, her head spinning and her body drained of strength. From the corner of her eye, she saw the small creature crawling toward her, thick red drool dripping from its mouth and its fiery eyes locked onto her.