Suddenly, a loud shout came from the side, startling the father and son.
Claude turned around and saw Arbeit standing at the entrance of the dining hall, glaring at the thale and riyas on the table with bloodshot eyes.
Mr. Morssen frowned, for a strong odour of bad wine wafted from Albert's person, and it was odorous to the extreme.
"Where did you go?
You haven't been back for a day and you smell like alcohol. Did you drink too much? "Morssen said angrily, his expression darkening.
"I, I didn't go anywhere. I, I was just playing cards with a few friends … I, I drank some wine …" Abigail burped and stumbled over. "No, no, why did you give him so much money? You, you've never given me so much money before …"
Seeing that Arbeit was about to reach for the money, Claude slapped his hand away in disgust. "This isn't for me. It's for an antique cookbook I bought. I have to return it to someone else."
"Y-you're lying!"
Arbeit almost tripped. He managed to steady himself with his hand on the edge of the table. "W-what do you mean by antique cookbook? Is there such a thing as an antique cookbook? Y-You guys only know how to lie to me …"
Abigail pointed her finger at Mr. Morssen. She was so close that her finger was almost poking his face. "You, you're too biased. You gave him so much money. If, if I hadn't come back, I would've, been deceived by you guys …"
Morssen was starting to lose his temper. No one would be able to stand being pointed at like that, let alone his eldest son.
He stood up and tried his best to suppress his anger and maintain his dignity as a father. "Arbeit, you're drunk. Go wash your face, rinse your mouth, and clean yourself up.
As Sir Fux's personal secretary, you have to act like a gentleman and maintain your composure.
Don't make yourself look like a drunkard on the streets … "
But the drunk Arbeit did not care about his father at all. He stared at the two coins on the table. "You, you can't give my money to him. This, this is my money, it's mine, it's all mine …"
Grabbing Mr. Morssen by the collar, Albert let out a loud belch, which made Mr. Morssen nauseous.
"Let go of me!" Mr. Morssen shouted angrily at his eldest son.
"No, I won't!"
At this point, he had completely lost his fear of his father. "Give me, give me my money, the family's money, it's all mine, all mine …"
What's the point of getting tangled up with a drunkard? Claude stepped forward, grabbed Arbeit's hands, twisted them, and pushed them back. Arbeit couldn't help but let go of Morssen's collar and staggered a few steps back before he finally stopped.
"Go!"
Morssen pushed Claude to the side and gave his eldest son a slap. Smack!
Abigail spun twice on the spot before falling to the ground. The left side of his face quickly turned red and swollen at a speed visible to the naked eye.
"Go back to your room! Come see me tomorrow when you're sober!"
Morssen roared. He ignored his son on the ground and prepared to go upstairs. But after taking two steps, he turned back and picked up the magic cookbook on the table before heading upstairs.
Claude picked up the two coins on the table and looked at Arbeit who was lying on the ground. He didn't know if he was knocked out by his father's slap or if he was drunk, but he just lay there motionlessly.
He crouched down to take a closer look and found that Arbeit was still breathing. He stood up and kicked him a few times in an attempt to wake him up, but he didn't react at all.
He scratched his head and decided not to bother anymore. When he looked up, he saw his little sister standing at the kitchen door in a daze. What happened in the dining room scared her out of her wits.
"It's fine, Anna. Arbeit was just drunk. Father just taught him a lesson," said Claude as he stroked his little sister's head to calm her down.
"Are we just going to let him lie there?" asked the little girl.
"Yeah, I can't carry him. He's too tall," replied Claude. He couldn't be bothered to care about Arbeit's life or death.
But after some thought, Claude went back to Arbeit and dragged him to a corner of the dining room. "Anna, go to his room upstairs and get him a blanket. Don't let him catch a cold."
The little girl was a little confused. "Brother, what's the difference between lying here and there?"
Claude nodded. "Yes. Mother won't be able to see this corner from upstairs. It's blocked by the dining table.
That way, she'll think that he's asleep and won't disturb him.
I can't carry him upstairs anyway, so I'll just leave him here. He'll go back to his room when he wakes up in the middle of the night. There's no need for us to worry about him.
By the way, are you done cleaning up the kitchen? We'll close the doors and windows and blow out the lights before going upstairs. Go get the blanket first. I'll wait for you. "
"Okay, Brother Two." Angelina obediently went upstairs.
… …
Without the recipes, he didn't have to stay up all night copying and deciphering the diary anymore. Claude had nothing to worry about anymore and returned to the attic to tidy up his desk. He considered his preparations for the trip to Egret the next day before going to bed early.
He slept soundly and didn't wake up until the bell of the wargod shrine rang at six the next morning.
After a good night's sleep, Claude woke up feeling refreshed and refreshed.
As usual, he went to the second floor to brush his teeth and wash his face before going for breakfast.
But after washing his face, he suddenly remembered that Arbeit had been left to spend the night in the dining hall. He didn't know if he had woken up yet.
When he went downstairs, he saw Arbeit sitting at the dining table, sipping on some black tea. His face was pale and the left side of his face was a little swollen. Five distinct purple finger marks could be seen on it.
However, he had changed into his pajamas and seemed to have taken a shower. His chestnut-colored hair was a little damp.
His father was probably scolding him. He no longer acted as arrogant as he did the night before and nodded repeatedly in apology.
But when he saw Claude come down, he glared at him with eyes full of hatred and anger.
"Claude, come here," Morssen said in a low voice.
"Good morning, Father. What's the matter?" Claude ignored Arbeit's glare.
"Why did you leave your big brother in the dining room last night and go to bed on your own …"
Claude shrugged and spread his arms. "I couldn't carry him, nor could I drag him upstairs.
You were so angry last night that I didn't dare to call you. Annan is too small for the two of us to carry him.
Besides, I didn't leave him alone. I even asked Annan to get him a blanket to cover him so he wouldn't catch a cold. "
"Ugh …" Morssen didn't know what to say. He had forgotten that the palm mark on Arbeit's face was his doing. He was so angry at his eldest son that he forgot to carry him back to his bedroom on the second floor.
Even though he suspected that Claude had left Arbeit in the dining hall on purpose, he couldn't do anything about it since Claude insisted that he couldn't carry him.
"You did it on purpose! Aren't you usually very strong?" Arbeit jumped out again.
"You have the cheek to criticize me?
If you hadn't gotten drunk, nothing would have happened.
You wouldn't have been beaten up and you wouldn't have been lying on the ground. Oh, right. You only drank a little last night and played a few rounds of cards with your friends. You must've lost all your money, right? That's why you went crazy when you got home. I haven't asked you how much you lost, "Claude retorted.
"I … I didn't play cards. I just drank a little. Don't spout nonsense," Arbeit said guiltily.
"You said it yourself. Did you forget?"
Claude knew that his father hated drunkards and gamblers the most. Drunkards were probably the bad impression his grandfather gave him, while gamblers were the teachings his grandfather gave him. Gambling was a way to squander the family!
"I … I only said it because I was drunk. I didn't play cards …" Arbeit insisted.
"Shut up, you two. Stop arguing," Morssen said angrily.
Claude sat down and started eating his breakfast.
"Are you going fishing this afternoon?" Morssen asked after a moment of silence.
"Yes. I've already paid the deposit for the boat. I hope to earn some money during the two days off to pay off my debt," Claude replied.
"In that case, I'll allow you to go. But be careful when you set up camp outside, got it?"
"I understand. I'll be careful, Father."
"As for you, Arbeit, stay home and don't go out for the next two days. Let the wounds on your face heal as soon as possible so that you don't embarrass yourself outside.
Sir Fux should be back from the prefectural capital after the holidays. You have to work hard by his side and don't disappoint me again. "
"Got it, Father," Arbeit replied listlessly.
… …
Every year on the 26th of the fifth month, the day before Revival Day, the two public schools in Whitestag would hold a celebration for Revival Day.
The content of the event was basically the same. All the students would be gathered and paraded around the town under the guidance of the teachers. Then, they would gather in the plaza where Stellin IX's first shot at restoring the kingdom to its former glory and line up.
First, they would pay their respects to the statue of Stellin IX, followed by the headmaster's report on the arduous journey Stellin IX went through to restore the kingdom to its former glory. After that, the student representatives would give a speech thanking the people who dug the well for their good lives, saying that their current blissful lives were all thanks to the royal family.
Finally, it was the mayor's turn to give a conclusion. He called for everyone to unite around the royal family and work hard to build Aueras under the wise leadership of Stellin X to make their home a better place.
When they were finally done, everyone bowed thrice to the statue of Stellin IX and parted ways, returning to their respective homes and mothers.
For the school, it was a great way to save on the cost of a student's lunch.
Claude had to go home to eat first and change out of his student uniform. He couldn't wear that on the adventure in Egret. Hunting gear was the best choice.
They gathered at the private dock of the Eriksson family at two in the afternoon.
Old Sunny had already anchored his single-sail fishing boat at the pier. The small fishing boat was about seven meters long and two and a half meters wide.
Apart from the bow and the stern, there wasn't much room for movement on the boat, only about ten square meters.
That type of single-sail fishing boat was the most commonly seen in Whitestag and required two to three people to operate it. It could also be used for fishing in shallow waters or diving underwater, but it couldn't enter deep waters. There was a risk of the boat capsizing if it ran into any strong waves.
Borkal handed the agreed rental fee to Old Sunny and he left after saying a few words of blessing. Everyone moved their luggage to the deck.
Eriksson asked, "Have you moved everything up? You didn't forget anything, did you? Check it again. We're ready to set sail."
He was now the captain of the small fishing boat.
"Wait," Claude said, "Ike, don't you have a blocking net in your warehouse? Bring it up as well.
We told our families we're going fishing, so we can't just leave without a net.
We'll find a place to set it up when we get there. Who knows, we might get a surprise when we return. "