The next morning, Arthur woke up very early in his rough, feathery bed. He stretched and yawned comfortably—he had slept well and freed his body of the exhaustion that had piled up from anxiety and lack of rest.
Unlike the day before, his mood was much better. That was because he had thought of a solution to his problem. Slowly, he got out of bed and put on his comfortable training clothes, even though they were dirty—the rough and low-quality clothes of this world didn't suit his taste at all.
He opened his shabby wooden window and looked down at the gloomy village bustling with activity. "I woke up much earlier than the real Arvan, who usually stays asleep until noon." He took in the natural scenery and the village, which didn't look so bad from up here.
As his eyes curiously scanned everything, he spotted the dirty river running by and saw several people defecating in it. His face froze. He slowly turned his head in another direction, wincing. "This is the worst sight to start your morning with." But then, his brows furrowed. He quickly turned back to look at the river's water flowing toward the forest—and that's when he realized.
"Damn it, I drank from that water!" He opened his mouth and started spitting madly in disgust. His mood soured, and his stomach churned.
"Damn, this place needs serious changes." He shook his head, trying to get rid of the revolting image stuck in his mind. After a few minutes of suffering, his thoughts cleared slightly and his stomach calmed down. With all his heart, he wished he could punch those villagers.
"This place needs fundamental changes. These people know nothing of hygiene or public decency."
He looked out the window again, but this time avoided glancing at the village or the river. He stared instead at the vast forest stretching to the horizon and thought, "I need to enter the forest. The one thing that guarantees my safety right now is in there."
The Thorned Darkwood was known for its abundance of thorny shrubs in its eastern and southern halves. In the past, about 150 years ago, a king of the Kingdom of Teravelle decided to expand the kingdom's borders by reclaiming land from the Thorned Darkwood. Though his plan faced many obstacles, he succeeded in reclaiming a large area.
But as his soldiers and workers advanced deeper into the forest, they found vast regions filled with thorny trees and shrubs. Naturally, they cut them down and cleared the land. However, a few days later, the thorny plants grew back—and even thicker. Cutting them again didn't help. They regrew even faster and denser.
This was highly puzzling, so powerful royal court mages were summoned. They discovered a natural magical force that accelerated the growth of any plant with thorns. Strange as it was, it wasn't unheard of, given the unstable nature of magical energy.
Because of this issue, the expansion project was stalled. After the king fell ill, it was canceled altogether. The reclaimed lands were turned into the Barony of Thornsreach.
But not long after, those who had settled in the region found the land to be poor and hopeless, which led many to leave. Over time, the thorny plants grew again and ruined everything that had been restored with great difficulty.
This was the story of how Thornsreach Barony came to be, as told in the novel. But in this world, no one knew the real reason for the thorns' growth—except Arthur.
After a short moment of reflection, a clever idea struck Arthur, one that would let him enter the forest without drawing suspicion. Calmly, he walked toward his room's door, took a deep breath, and opened the wooden door that creaked unpleasantly.
In the cold, long hallway beyond stood a young maid with brown hair and blue eyes, wearing the familiar servant's uniform. She bowed immediately upon seeing Arthur and said submissively, "Good morning, Lord Arvan."
Arthur looked at her with a blank expression, and within seconds, he recognized her. She was Octavia Throckmorton, who was also Arvan's personal maid in the novel. Octavia had very beautiful features, but her personal hygiene was nearly nonexistent. To Arthur, she was like raw meat—valuable in theory, but completely inedible.
Because he didn't respond, Octavia grew nervous. Everyone in this city knew Arvan's vile and corrupt nature. She trembled involuntarily, afraid to raise her head and look at him. All she could do was pray in her heart that he wouldn't harm her.
Sigh…
Arthur let out a silent sigh and said in a cold, indifferent tone, "Bring me warm water."
"Yes, my lord." Octavia hurried away, unable to bear standing next to him any longer.
Arthur closed the door and sighed again. "Damn, I hate this. I have to pretend all the time to be a scumbag. If I don't, they might suspect my identity. And these people have no concept of personal privacy." As much as he hated the situation, from now on he had to maintain the image of the wicked and depraved duke's son—so no one would suspect him.
About twenty minutes later, Octavia returned with three other maids. They brought warm water, towels, and what they considered clean clothes.
Arthur looked at them and wept inside. He forced himself to remove his clothes, keeping only his undergarments, then said with a cold voice full of hidden embarrassment, "Clean me."
The maids surrounded him from all sides, wiping his body with towels soaked in warm water and applying fragrant oils, whose scent he despised. From his perspective on cleanliness, this had nothing to do with hygiene. But in this world, all nobles and important figures washed like this.
It tickled, but Arthur did his best to remain stern. After about ten minutes, they were done cleaning him. The maids stared silently at his underwear, waiting for him to remove it so they could clean his "important equipment," but he raised his hand in anger and signaled, "That's enough."
He quietly stood up, and the maids immediately understood what he meant. They helped him dress—he simply stood still while they did all the work.
The clothes were itchy and, worse, thick and layered, making him move stiffly.
When they finished, he said, "Enough."
The three maids quickly took the water basins and towels and left the room, leaving Octavia alone, her head still bowed obediently.
Arthur looked at her for a moment, then turned his gaze to the village outside the window and said with arrogance, "This disgusting place needs some changes."
"Your people pray for your wisdom to rain down upon them. No one is more fit than you to lead us to a better tomorrow," she replied with well-crafted, flattering words. But her anxious eyes and tense body betrayed her fear—clearly, any decision Arvan made would only make their lives harder.
After that, Arthur left his room and went to the dining hall, where he ate his breakfast with noble decorum, just like in the novel. When he finished, he looked at Baronet Edgar and his son Duncan, who wore a leather armor reinforced with some metal plates.
Duncan was about the same age and height as Arthur. The only difference was his lighter brown hair and dark blue eyes, compared to Arthur's brown eyes.
Arthur picked up a piece of meat with his fork, then said in a cold voice, "I heard some people think I'm a reckless fool."
His random words were enough to make everyone in the room nearly choke with fear.