Faerun: The arcane mage is still too imprisoned.

Old Colin finally realized what was happening, and pulled his brother down to his knees with a thud.

"Lord Lance! You...you are..."

Old Colin's voice trembled violently, and tears streamed down his face.

"Our lives, from this day forward, belong to you!"

Little Toby nodded vigorously beside him, tears streaming down his face, sobbing uncontrollably.

Lance waved his hand: "Get up, your leg is better now, so stand up and talk."

Old Colin stood up and carefully stepped on the ground—his leg was really healed, the pain was gone, and he could walk again. He laughed and cried at the same time, pulling his younger brother to kneel down again.

Lance glared at him.

The two stood there awkwardly, but tears kept flowing.

In the office, Lance looked at the two brothers still kneeling on the ground and softened his tone:

"Don't worry, I'll handle this. He won't shortchange you on a single penny. I'll also settle the accounts with him regarding the debts he owes you."

Less than half an hour later, the office door was pushed open.

Curry entered, followed by two guards who carried in a bloated, middle-aged man and threw him to the ground.

The man was dressed in a magnificent silk robe, had a round belly, wore seven or eight gemstone rings on his ten fingers, and had his hair slicked back and polished. He was none other than Amat Ras.

He was thrown to the ground, stunned at first, then scrambled to his feet, cursing, "You dare arrest me! Do you know who I am? Viscount Colby is my good friend! You don't want to live anymore!"

Then he looked up and saw Lance sitting behind his desk.

The cursing stopped abruptly.

Amat's eyes darted around as he quickly sized up Lance—a silver-haired half-elf in a dark blue silk robe, sitting in this impressive office, with a handsome guard carrying a sword standing beside him.

Such an exceptional aura... he's probably a nobleman, and perhaps even a very important person!

Amat immediately started calculating in his mind: If he could get in touch with this lord, wouldn't he be able to do whatever he wanted in Rild City?

What is Viscount Colby? This guy looks much younger than the viscount and has a bright future ahead of him!

His arrogance vanished instantly, replaced by a broad smile; his change of expression was faster than flipping through a book.

Amat quickly straightened his robes, strode to the desk, and bowed deeply to Lance, his back almost touching the ground: "My lord! What brings you here?"

Lance didn't speak, he just stared at him coldly.

My fingers tapped lightly on the table.

Boom, boom, boom.

Amat's smile grew increasingly stiff. He thought to himself: Why isn't this gentleman saying anything? Is it because I wasn't polite enough? Or is he upset that I didn't pay?

Lance finally spoke, his voice calm: "Amat Ras, right? My name is Lance. Do you know these two people?"

Amat nodded quickly, then looked at the Colin brothers with a puzzled expression and asked, "Who are you? Do I know you?"

Old Colin was trembling with anger, pointing at Amat:

"Don't pretend you don't know us! We are the workers you owe wages to!"

"We went to see you more than ten times, and not only did you refuse to give us money, you also had people beat us up! My leg was broken by your men!"

"Hey? You can't just say things like that!" Amat's expression immediately changed, glaring at old Colin.

"You can eat whatever you want, but you can't say whatever you want! When did I ever have someone hit you? Do you have any proof?"

He glanced at old Colin's broken leg again and scoffed, "Besides, what does your broken leg have to do with me? You tripped and fell while working, and you're trying to blame it on me?"

Little Toby panicked and rushed forward: "My brother's leg was broken by your men with an iron bar! I was right there! I saw it clearly!"

Amat glanced at him sideways: "You saw it? So you're in cahoots too? Trying to scam me?"

He glanced furtively at old Colin and young Toby standing beside him—his heart skipped a beat when he saw the injuries on their bodies.

I seem to have some recollection of it; these two people were apparently owed wages by him and had been beaten up several times.

But then he thought, "They're just two peasants. What's the value of their lives, let alone their injuries?"

Can't we even settle such a small matter by giving this important person a gift?

Old Colin pulled his brother back, preventing him from rushing forward. He knelt on the ground, tears welling up again: "Lord Amat, we don't want more, we just want the eight gold coins we were owed."

"My mother needs the money to buy medicine; she's dying..."

Amat waved his hand dismissively, as if shooing away flies: "What does your mother's death have to do with me? She's your mother, not mine! So what if the court ruled? I just won't give it to you, what can you do about it?"

He said this with a smug look on his face, completely disregarding the two brothers.

Then he turned to Lance, a smile returning to his face, and lowered his voice: "Lord Lance, these two peasants are just desperate for money, they'll bite anyone they see, please don't take their words to heart."

As he spoke, he pulled a gold note with a magical anti-counterfeiting mark from his pocket and, under the guise of bending down, quietly slipped it into his desk drawer.

"It's just a small token, two hundred gold coins worth of gold notes, for you to use when you drink red tea."

Lance glanced at the gold notes in the drawer and raised an eyebrow: "Since you have money to give me, why don't you pay them the wages you owe them?"

Upon hearing this, Amat assumed Lance thought it wasn't enough, so he quickly pulled out another gold note from his pocket and tried to stuff it into the drawer as well.

"My lord, it was my oversight! Here are also five hundred gold coins in gold notes; please accept them as well!"

"So why don't you just give them the money?"

Amat said with a pained expression:

"You big shot wouldn't understand, if I gave them money, the rest of the people would come to me demanding it back."

"With so many people, even I had to give them money."

"Oh dear, Lord Lance, you have no idea! Giving these gleaming gold coins to those peasants—it's more painful than having my flesh ripped out!"

"But to someone as important as you is my honor! To be able to give you a gift is a blessing I, Amat, have accumulated through eight lifetimes of faith in Ms. Woking!"

When he said this, his eyes shone, and his face was full of smug satisfaction, as if to say, "I'm so good at getting things done."

Looking at his expression, Lance suddenly asked, "Don't you recognize me?"

Amat was taken aback: "Huh? Um... sir, you are...?"

Lance ignored him and turned to Curry: "Curry, is his family noble?"

Curry leaned closer and whispered, "No. But his relationship with Viscount Colby is rumored to be quite good; he's his brother-in-law..."

"Rumors? What's the reality?" Lance interrupted him directly.

Curry wiped his sweat: "Actually...actually, we're probably not that familiar..."

Lance glanced at him: "Fine, then shut up."

Curry immediately shut up and shrank to the side.

Lance turned his head and nodded to Amatt: "Oh? Since it's an honor for you to give it to me, why not give me all your assets?"

Amat's smile froze instantly.

"what?"