From the packaging of these gifts, it can be seen that most of the items inside are quite expensive. The packaging alone exudes a luxurious atmosphere.

However, the packaging was all too intact, appearing completely untouched.

They were most likely placed here immediately after being received and then forgotten by Amisha.

Amisha naturally doesn't care about these gifts because most are from people she doesn't really associate with.

She only values gifts from friends, and as long as a familiar friend gives them, Amisha will personally open and put them away.

And the gifts piled up in the warehouse are mostly items meant for business-related interactions, which Amisha dislikes.

She finds such gifts too vulgar, too worldly, with no trace of friendship in them.

Thus, these gifts were placed in the warehouse.

Although the items inside are quite valuable, since they are Miss Amisha's birthday gifts, as long as she doesn't say anything, others wouldn't dare to touch them, leaving them there as is.

As they sat there, Amisha herself forgot about them.

"Amisha, do you know which gift is the wood sculpture?" Herag asked, though he wasn't hopeful.

Amisha glanced at the pile of gifts on the ground and said with some difficulty, "I... I don't know either."

Herag smiled; it seemed Amisha truly could not be relied upon.

Since Amisha didn't know, Blanc and that servant were likely in the dark as well, so he could only search for it himself.

Even though Herag didn't think it necessary to search, he still had to go through the motions.

"Miss Amisha, would you mind if I used magic sensing to check where the wood sculpture is?" Herag turned to ask.

These gifts were Amisha's personal belongings; using a magic sense to probe them would require the owner's permission out of respect.

"Of course, you can take them all if you wish." Amisha replied.

Herag laughed, "No need to take them; I just want to see where the wood sculpture is. Since you agreed, Miss Amisha, I'll proceed to check."

After he spoke, magic flowed within him, and a wave of magic power reverberated.

In Herag's sensing, the situation inside the pile of gifts became clearly perceivable.

Exquisite dolls, precious gemstone necklaces, corals from the sea...

Herag observed these gifts, noting that they were indeed varied.

Most of them were very expensive, though a portion was not as valuable but rather unique.

It was evident that the gift-givers had put thought into them, but unfortunately, Amisha hadn't even opened them.

Herag examined the entire pile but found no wood sculpture.

He had anticipated this but couldn't speak it aloud.

Herag frowned and said, "No wood sculpture found. Miss Amisha, are you sure all the gifts are here?"

"They should all be here, I haven't really checked, no one would dare touch my things," Amisha said somewhat uncertainly.

Blanc sensed something from Herag's words, glanced at Muse, and asked, "Muse, you're in charge of these gifts, correct?"

Muse glanced at Blanc, lowered his head, and replied, "Yes, Master Butler."

"Then are you certain that Miss's birthday gifts from last year are all here?" Blanc asked with a piercing gaze.

Muse's heart skipped a beat, but his face remained calm as he answered, "Master Butler, after Miss selected a few items to take, I placed all the gifts here. No one's touched them since; I remember clearly."

Herag said nothing but walked in front of Muse and said, "Look at me."

Muse clenched his fists slightly nervous, looking at Herag with a somewhat evasive gaze, "What do you instruct, sir?"

"I ask you, did you steal Miss Amisha's birthday gifts?" Herag asked.

"No, absolutely not. Stealing the Miss's birthday gifts would be a capital offense; how could I do that!" Muse quickly shook his head, emphatically denying it.

"You are lying," Herag said expressionlessly.

Muse's eyes widened, "No, I'm not! I'm not lying! You're slandering me!"

Herag smiled, "I'm an Official Wizard from Serlandir, why would I slander a servant like you for no reason?"

Amisha stared intently at Muse and asked, "Did you take my things?"

Amisha trusted what Herag said; Herag wouldn't slander one of her servants for no reason.

If Herag dared to say so, it meant he must have noticed something.

Muse, the servant responsible for managing the warehouse, could easily steal her birthday gifts without being noticed.

Because every year it was the same, her birthday gifts were mostly piled up in the warehouse, and she wouldn't manage them.

Even if some were missing, no one would ever know.

If Muse was stealing from within, it would indeed be hard to detect.

"I didn't, Miss, really, I wouldn't dare," Muse defended.

Herag spoke, "No worries, we can check and find out soon enough. Blanc, where does Muse usually live?"

Blanc glanced at Muse, answering, "He lives in the western servants' quarters, where Muse has his own room."

"Understood, let's check his room," Herag said.

Muse's heartbeat suddenly accelerated, but he said nothing, seemingly still holding onto a glimmer of hope.

Blanc placed his hand on Muse's shoulder and said in a deep voice, "Let's take a look at your place; if there's really nothing there, Herag won't wrong you."

Muse nodded silently, a bit of sweat on his forehead.

The servants' quarters of the Morri Family were actually quite nice, consisting of three-story small buildings, although the interior was filled with compact rooms.

Most people had a room to themselves, with only a few larger rooms shared by two or three people.

The group arrived outside Muse's room, opened the door, and saw the narrow space inside.

Herag entered first, scanned the surroundings, initially seeing no sign of the wood sculpture.

He thought for a moment, a ripple of magic power emanated from him, and he cast another magic sense spell.

Using Shenlan's environment detection would have been better, but in front of these people, magic sensing was more appropriate.

Herag used his magic sense to sweep through the room, then looked at the wardrobe.

As he did, Muse unconsciously clenched his fists.

Herag walked straight to the wardrobe, opening the door with a harsh creaking sound.

He moved aside a pile of clothes, knocking on the wooden board at the bottom, producing a hollow echo.

With two fingers pressing down hard, the board cracked instantly, revealing a wooden carving of a rose.

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