After patiently waiting for nearly half an hour, Grant Howard finally woke up. It stretched lazily, its entire body’s muscles and bones tensing all at once, producing a series of crackling pops.

Then, it turned its head, and the huge, bulb-like single eye in the center of its face blinked as it spotted Logan Bennett.

“Hey~ little thing~ what do you want?” The cyclops’s voice was muffled and guttural, almost slurred.

This guy wasn’t very bright and was severely face-blind; in its eyes, everyone looked the same.

Logan Bennett raised the crystal vial in his hand and said, “The master’s pure water dew.”

“Oh~ so it’s you, little thing. Go on in.” Grant Howard stepped aside, but its massive single eye sized up Logan Bennett’s body with ill intent, its tongue occasionally licking its lips, and drool hanging in several strands from its mouth.

Logan Bennett felt creeped out by the stare, hugged the pure water dew tightly to his chest, lowered his head, and hurried past Grant Howard. As he passed, the damned cyclops took a deep sniff, making a gulping sound in its throat.

‘Damn cyclops!’ Logan Bennett cursed inwardly, feeling as if he was walking through the gates of hell.

He finally made it through the door, only to find another spiral stone staircase inside. This time, though, there weren’t many steps—just half a turn. At the end, a luxurious hall covered in deerskin carpets appeared before him, with a long, wide table set in the center. Around the table, a dozen or so semi-transparent figures moved back and forth.

This was the first floor of the spire, also known as Fiona Carter’s dining hall.

The figures in the hall were humanoid, but their features were indistinct. They carried trays, constantly placing all sorts of aromatic dishes on the table.

‘They’re ghostly servants.’ Logan Bennett lowered his head, not daring to look too much. Although it wasn’t his first time seeing them, every encounter still sent chills down his spine.

At the end of the long table sat a man, about thirty-something, with sunken eyes and a deathly pale face, dressed in a luxurious black robe embroidered with silver thread. The gleaming dinner knife in his hand danced up and down as he continuously sent all kinds of delicacies into his mouth.

This was Fiona Carter, the master of White Stone Castle.

Fiona Carter saw Logan Bennett, but treated him as if he were air, remaining focused on his meal.

Out of the corner of his eye, Logan Bennett glanced at the long table, seeing it laden with all sorts of exquisite dishes: roast lamb, pheasant soup, pan-fried venison, fresh fish soup, matsutake mushrooms, cod casserole… more than thirty dishes in all, filling the table and saturating the air with rich aromas.

All these years, Logan Bennett hadn’t had a proper meal. At this moment, he couldn’t help but salivate, his stomach growling in protest.

These were things his body simply couldn’t control.

Sensing Logan Bennett’s gaze, Fiona Carter picked up a glass of wine, took a light sip, and said offhandedly, “For a spellcaster, two things are most important. First, abundant physical strength. Second, a pleasant mood. Obviously, exquisite and delicious food can satisfy both needs at once.”

Logan Bennett lowered his eyes and remained silent.

Fiona Carter didn’t need a response, pointing at a piece of venison on the table with a small bite taken out of it: “This venison wasn’t done well; the texture is lacking.”

Before he finished speaking, a ghostly servant by the table shuddered violently, immediately dropped to its knees, and kowtowed repeatedly.

Fiona Carter waved his hand impatiently. “Don’t bother me. Get out!”

The ghostly servant jumped up as if shocked and ran off.

Immediately after, the piece of meat on the table seemed to come alive, leaping into the air in an arc and landing with a splat on the floor in front of Logan Bennett.

“Yesterday’s enchanted ring—I was very satisfied. This piece of meat is your reward. Oh, right, give me the pure water dew first.”

Such a humiliating reward—if this were on Earth, Logan Bennett would have cursed out loud, and probably thrown a punch as well. But here, he didn’t even have the right to refuse, unless he wanted to die.

He lowered his head, placed the crystal vial filled with pure water dew on the long table, then stepped back to his original spot and picked up the venison from the floor to eat.

He ate quietly, not making a single sound as he chewed, his demeanor as submissive as could be.

This piece of meat was rich in nutrients, which would make his body stronger… but he had to endure the humiliation.

Fiona Carter’s laughter rang in his ears: “No need to put on an act in front of me, Logan Bennett. I can see the fire hidden in your eyes at a glance—just like the young me. That’s the main reason I’ve let you live until now. Unfortunately, I not only have ambition, but also the talent, intelligence, and luck to match it. That’s why I became your master, the one who controls your fate. As for you, you have nothing. You’re just a fatter maggot in a cesspit. No matter how you struggle, you’re destined to wallow in filth your whole life.”

Logan Bennett still said nothing, not even changing his movements, as if he hadn’t heard a thing.

Fiona Carter was narrow-minded and cruel, unable to tolerate the slightest contradiction—a typical petty tyrant. Faced with such a person’s humiliation, his only option for now was to accept it in silence.