Chapter 488 The Well
Chapter 488 The Well
They wouldn't dare!
But as Quinton's expression darkened, one of the guards gulped nervously, trembling as he fumbled with the keys to unlock the gate, then respectfully gestured for Quinton to enter.
Watching Quinton charge into the tower like a whirlwind, the other guard nudged his buddy, "Are you crazy? Mr. Ramirez just told us to keep Shawn undisturbed while he's recovering. If Quinton lays a finger on Shawn, we're in hot water too!"
The guard who let Quinton through snapped out of his daze, taking a deep breath and feeling stuck between a rock and a hard place, "Didn't you see the look on Quinton's face? If we keep blocking him, he might as well use our heads as soccer balls. Would you rather bite the dust now or find a way to stay alive?"
Convinced by this grim choice, the other guard's worry eased a bit, "Well, let's pray Quinton doesn't go after Shawn again. If things go south, we'll need to figure out how to make a run for it!"
Upstairs, as Quinton stepped into the tower, he sensed the lingering presence he had felt before, now faint and elusive, making it hard to pinpoint. All he knew for sure was that someone had been there before vanishing.
With that in mind, he hurried up the stairs and found Shawn's room in disarray. The shelves had been shoved against the walls, leaving no hiding spots, and Shawn lay unconscious on the bed, his face bruised and battered, giving him a fragile and pitiful look despite his delicate features.
Anger simmered within Quinton at the sight, but he kept his cool, knowing Shawn's survival was paramount. He strode over to Shawn's bedside, scanning the room without manners, hoping to sense a different presence.
Unfortunately, he came up empty.
The room was eerily silent, with only the scent of potions on the table and the herbal aroma on Shawn, which Quinton found unpleasant.
Something felt off. Why was the place deserted?
Clutching his fists, frustration clouding his eyes, Quinton scanned the room, then suddenly, a realization struck. He snatched a lantern from the table and dashed downstairs without a word to the guard at the door, making a beeline for the basement.
The tower's basement led to the Ramirez Villa's kitchen. Quinton hurried through the dim passage, the lantern lighting his way. Upon reaching the kitchen door, everything seemed normal, with the usual hustle and bustle.
The clamor grated on Quinton's already frayed nerves. He burst into the kitchen, startling the maids who were chasing a rat. Quinton squashed a plump rat underfoot, the sound of its demise hushing the room.
The maids, frozen in surprise, gazed at Quinton, who surveyed the chaotic kitchen with irritation. "Have you seen anyone strange in here or passing through?" he asked.
Distracted by calming down a hysterical Kaida and dealing with the rat situation, the maids hadn't noticed any outsiders. They confirmed no strangers had been in the kitchen.
Frustrated by the lack of leads, Quinton's agitation mounted, a fiery anger bubbling up inside him, threatening to cloud his judgment.
"May the devil take whoever I find!" he declared, grabbing a wet barrel to hurl to the ground. But the dampness gave him pause. "What's this barrel for?" he inquired, noting the trembling maid.
"It's for carrying water from the well," she replied nervously.
Realizing his impulse to use the barrel as a weapon, Quinton hesitated. "A well? Fetching water?"
A memory flashed in his mind. He recalled seeing a well in the tower's basement the last time he sensed trouble.
Without further delay, Quinton pushed the barrel aside, seized the lantern, and hurried through the passage toward the well tucked in the corner.
Someone must be hiding there! There's no other explanation!
His mind raced with thoughts of capturing the intruder and delivering harsh retribution to ease his fury.
But as he reached the well, its murky depths revealed nothing of interest. The lantern only illuminated the still water surface, concealing any movements below. Quinton couldn't swim and had no idea where the well led.
Disheartened, he dreaded having to explain his failure to Edmund.
Would he confess that, as an esteemed knight, he couldn't even track down an intruder's trail?
Quinton loathed the intruder more than ever.
Then, a realization struck him, and his expression shifted abruptly. He swiftly exited the tower, making his way to the backyard.
Meanwhile, Ava's predicament was far more complex.
Though Michael's map vaguely pointed to the underground waterway's direction, navigating the cold, dark underwater realm proved challenging.
Relying on memory and instinct, Ava pressed forward, encountering a few wells along the way for air.
Finally, she glimpsed moonlight reflecting on the water's surface, casting a faint glow in the submerged world.