Chapter 99: Reshuffling the Cards

  In the Duke's study, Chancellor Lord Mrak was busily and cheerfully handling affairs.

  Despite the many significant events of the past two days, His Majesty the Emperor had remembered to bestow upon the Duke the chancellorship that had long been prepared for him. But truthfully, the Duke wasn't particularly pleased about it.

  The title of Chancellor was less something he had to reach for and more something that would have come to him on its own, requiring no more effort than eating a small piece of bread. His eldest daughter was already the Finance Minister, his younger daughter was about to become the Imperial Consort, the military ministers were kept busy by his masterful maneuvers, and the Erney family was nearly finished. Who else but him could take this position? So the Duke wasn't happy about the title itself, but about something else.

  The study door opened. Dressed in official robes, the astute and capable Finance Minister entered, holding a stack of documents.

  Sophia placed the documents before the Duke and said, "This is the loss report from the battle to exterminate the Necromancer two days ago. Compensation for the fallen warriors and mages, the cost of recruiting so many high-level fighters from various regions to replenish the Paladin Order in such a short time... Adding up all the expenses, it totals 2,359 gold coins."

  The Duke glanced at the documents. The various expenditure budgets were clearly categorized in meticulous detail. He nodded, sighing with satisfaction. Recalling the great battle two days ago, he realized he hadn't felt such a mix of shock and delight in years.

  Over fifty members of the Paladin Order, including four squad leaders, had fallen in the campaign to exterminate the Necromancer two days ago. This was his delight—a great shock and great delight.

  This was the largest and most staggering loss in the history of the Paladin Order. And it was against just one Necromancer, with the assistance of nearly a thousand priests and mages.

  The Duke had known long ago that this eccentric old man, who was actually acquainted with the Bishop, was undoubtedly a master. After the incident with Chancellor Erney's son, he had become certain that this old man was indeed a Necromancer, likely hiding here under the Bishop's personal protection due to some unknown circumstances.

  The Bishop actually associating with a Necromancer was an absolutely enormous secret. However, unwilling to expose himself, the Duke never revealed this information. In the end, this proved to be an incredibly wise choice.

  What exactly was the relationship between this strange old man and that young cleric, and what was his relationship with the Bishop? The Duke didn't want to delve into it. But with the Bishop dead, this man who knew the true culprit wasn't the young cleric was undoubtedly a massive threat. Besides, he was the Bishop's friend and a terrifying Necromancer.

  Although his power was likely unfathomable—the Duke had experienced a small taste of it long ago—a mage who could suppress him, a swordsman, with killing intent and aura to the point where he dared not act was absolutely comparable to Bishop Ronis. The outcome of Chancellor Erney's son's incident also clearly illustrated the problem.

  But under the Duke's schemes, even if he were ten times more powerful, it would be useless. He was just an unidentified Necromancer. Using the Paladin Order and the Magic Academy to eliminate him was perfectly justified.

  But the Duke never expected the battle to be so arduous, so massive. Just to kill one person, yet it was so thrilling and earth-shattering. The battle was brief, but the flames, explosions, poison gas, holy light... The storm of chaotic magical elements and sword qi, and finally the Necromancer's own immensely powerful self-detonation along with ten or so corpses was simply incredible. Even with the Duke's composure, witnessing it left him utterly stunned.

  Fortunately, that large house was in the most remote area on the edge of the capital. Only a few unimportant streets were damaged, and just over a hundred civilians were injured.

  But after the shock, the Duke was ecstatic, especially when he saw two Paladin Order squad leaders and over a dozen swordsmen torn to pieces by the massive explosion for getting too close to the Necromancer—he almost wanted to applaud the Necromancer.

  "How is the budget for rebuilding that district?" the Duke asked.

  The Finance Minister immediately produced another document, nearly an inch thick, which also detailed all the expenditures. "It's approximately 2,300 gold coins. There are simply too many items; the budget can only be precise to this extent."

  The Duke nodded. Clearing the streets, disposing of the corpses, having the priests cleanse the effects of the terrifying toxin magic, repairing the damaged buildings... For such complex work to have the budget calculated to this degree, no other official in the empire possessed such capability. She was truly deserving of the Finance Minister position.

  "With these two expenditures, the treasury will inevitably be stretched thin. We'll have to cut back in other areas... The recruitment and resupply work for the Paladin Order will have to be temporarily postponed..."

  The Finance Minister's clear, bright voice continued in a flat tone, as if reading an official document: "Under any circumstances, the integrity and combat effectiveness of the Paladin Order must be guaranteed. It is the foundation of the empire's stability and a system unchanged for centuries. Moreover, if the reconstruction funds aren't allocated immediately, the military ministers will also raise objections with me."

  "Systems are dead, situations are alive. Currently, we have peaceful relations with neighboring nations and no wars, so it's perfectly fine to postpone it for now. As for how long to postpone..." Naturally, until he felt it was appropriate. The corner of the Duke's mouth unconsciously pulled into a slight smile. "As for the military ministers, you needn't worry. I will naturally go and explain things clearly to them. This matter is important; I will personally assist Captain Roland in handling it... Hehe."

  If there was anything in this empire that he still needed to be wary of, it was the Paladin Order. Normally, the organization's personnel structure was extremely strict and harsh, and almost entirely handled by Captain Roland himself. Thus, no matter how much scheming or means the Duke possessed, he could only gaze at it from afar. But now, the personnel losses created by that revered and adorable Necromancer were undoubtedly a heaven-sent opportunity. Delaying the funding slightly, finding a chance to insert some of his own people—this was the simplest thing.

  "Yes," the Finance Minister answered flatly, flipping through the documents.

  The sound of footsteps approached, growing louder. Clang, clang—strong and rhythmic. The metallic soles of a knight's boots struck the floor with the owner's unhesitating steps. Just from the sound, one could sense the visitor's youth and energy. The identical interval between each step further indicated his extraordinary self-control, strictness, precision, and meticulousness.

  The study door opened, and a young knight entered. Just like his footsteps, he wore impeccable knight attire. Every movement, even every expression, displayed perfect knightly conduct. He wasn't Clovis, yet he seemed, like Clovis, to be naturally the Duke's right-hand man. Though his appearance was equally handsome and upright, he lacked Clovis's overt hardness and killing intent, appearing instead gentle and approachable. He was the Duke's new assistant, Rodhart.

  Two days ago, just as the news of Bishop Ronis's assassination by that Necromancer Guild spy cleric spread through the capital, and shortly after the Duke returned from exterminating that Necromancer, Rodhart came to find him.

  "Your Grace the Duke, I am here to be your assistant," Rodhart said in a manner so direct it even surprised the Duke.

  The Duke smiled, saying with a tone of unworthiness, "Nonsense. Lord Rodhart is now a newcomer deliberately cultivated by the military. I don't have such face to ask you to be my deputy."

  "Your Grace the Duke, I am here to pledge allegiance to you," Rodhart said again, his tone sincere, humble, but by no means groveling, reiterating his purpose. "My prospects in the military are currently good, and I hold a squad leader position in the Paladin Order. I am intelligent, and I know what's important and when to advance or retreat. With my help, you can more easily manipulate the military. I will definitely do better than Clovis."

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  "You mean you yourself have more utility value," the Duke said with a hint of mockery in his smile, but mostly appreciation.

  "Yes. I can be of greater help to you," Rodhart nodded.

  "You are a smart man," the Duke said, looking at him meaningfully, and nodded. "Truly smart. Someone who accomplishes great things."

  With Bishop Ronis dead, the powerful backer he had hoped would make the Duke wary was gone. His friend was about to become the most wanted man on the continent. Although his position in court seemed favorable, the all-powerful Duke would never let go of someone who had once consciously sought to establish his own faction, who had potential, brains, ambition, and knew too much.

  Opposing the Duke was undoubtedly unwise. The gap in power, means, and status was incalculable. And struggle was always the most mindless last resort. So Rodhart immediately chose a path that seemed almost insane to others—to re-pledge allegiance to the Duke.

  To perceive such a situation required extraordinarily keen insight and intellect. And to make this choice required the breadth of spirit and demeanor of someone who accomplishes great things without getting bogged down in trivialities.

  A man like the Duke wouldn't care what you had done in the past; he cared about only one thing: whether you were still useful. Your past actions, whether good or bad for him, were merely references to your character and ability. As long as he could analyze your ability and utility value, was confident he could control you, and determined you were useful to him, that was sufficient.

  "I wonder how long it's been since I've spoken so directly with someone," the Duke sighed with a hint of emotion. Smiling at the young man who had come to surrender voluntarily, he was indeed a bit tempted. "I believe you are very capable. At least, when I was your age, I absolutely didn't possess your insight and demeanor, let alone your depth of character."

  Rodhart remained silent, head bowed, standing quietly as he awaited the Duke's decision.

  The Duke still wore that smile as he looked at Rodhart and continued, "But I also know you are very ambitious. Do you think I would keep such a capable, intelligent, ambitious, and deeply calculating dangerous figure by my side, waiting for him to stab me in the back someday?"

  Rodhart said nothing, still standing there humbly.

  "But since you've come, it shows you judged that I would definitely accept your allegiance? Now, guess for yourself: was your judgment correct or not?" The Duke's eyes narrowed. He curled his fingers and slowly tapped them on the desktop, one tap at a time. "And... if it was wrong, what would the consequences be?"

  If his judgment was wrong, if the Duke didn't accept this proposal, the consequence would likely be that he wouldn't even make it out of the Duke's mansion gates. He had demonstrated such understanding of the Duke's character, methods, and current situation that the Duke naturally wouldn't let him go, not even giving him a chance to escape. He had been so close to that Necromancer Guild spy—this reason alone was enough to have him executed on the spot.

  Rodhart stood silently, still not speaking. Only the Duke's dry, dull tapping sound remained in the room, falling on the rhythm of every heartbeat.

  After a long while, he finally spoke. His voice was steady and clear, without the slightest fluctuation of emotion: "I won't guess, because this is my own judgment. And this matter isn't just about whether my choice is correct," his eyes met the Duke's without flinching. "It's also about whether your choice is correct."

  Thump. The Duke's finger-tapping ended with a heavy tap. "Then I'll tell you, your judgment was correct." His smile wasn't just satisfied; it held something else—fighting spirit. "I will keep you by my side."

  "Thank you, Your Grace the Duke," Rodhart bowed to the Duke. From this moment, he transformed from a discarded piece, an adversary, into the Duke's assistant, subordinate, partner, and ally.

  "No need to thank me. You know, I'm keeping you not for you, but for myself. Not just because you have utility value for me, but also because you are a threat to me." The Duke stood up, glanced out the window, his eyes filled with ambition and grand aspirations. "There is no one left in this country who is my match. Without opponents, there is no threat. And living in a world without a sense of crisis, even the most ferocious and cunning beasts will slowly degenerate. So I'm keeping you, not just to have you help me with things, but also to remind myself to always stay vigilant."

  Entering the study, Rodhart first performed a very standard salute, then presented a report: "Your Grace the Duke, this is the current personnel arrangement in the Paladin Order. The vacant positions and the types of people needed are all written here."

  The Duke took the report but set it aside, smiling at Rodhart as he asked, "What is your current position in the Order? Has Captain Roland decided?"

  Rodhart stood with hands clasped at his side, answering: "Replacing the former Fourth Squad Leader, commanding thirty swordsmen and one fire mage."

  The Duke smiled and nodded: "Right. How is Captain Roland's injury?"

  "Fortunately, two High Priests from the Magic Academy returned from the Holy See in time. The Captain is now mostly recovered."

  "Oh, that's good." Though he said "good," the Duke's eyebrows, as slender as his eyes, twitched with regret. If there was any small regret in this pleasant surprise, this was it.

  Fifty members, four squad leaders. This personnel vacancy was indeed a great gift left to the Duke. But the Duke would rather have all those members survive, even if five hundred more appeared out of thin air, as long as one person could have died gloriously—Captain Roland.

  If that had really happened, perhaps the Duke would have been a hundred times happier than he was now, and might even have quietly erected a bronze statue for that venerable Necromancer in his basement.

  But since the old man hadn't managed to achieve such honor, the Duke wasn't too anxious. Worst case, he would handle it slowly himself. As long as there was now a gap allowing his people into the Paladin Order, opportunities would arise. The success of the Bishop Ronis affair had greatly boosted his courage and fighting spirit.

  With Bishop Ronis's death and the Paladin Order's losses, the entire power structure and situation distribution in the capital had changed. This was a great reshuffling. Some cards would disappear, some would change places and positions, producing different effects. And the one who best controlled the flow of these cards was naturally the Duke, the most outstanding card player in the realm of political power. For example, the card named Rodhart.

  The Duke asked: "Has that wanted poster for the murderer been issued yet?" If this potential threat was also completely eliminated, it could almost be said that all the cards in the capital were in his hands.

  "His Majesty the Emperor is heartbroken. In addition to the 5,000 gold coins offered by Bishop Ronis, he added another bounty. Whoever captures this man will be ennobled as a First-Class Earl." Rodhart's voice was calm, steady, and concise. "The wanted poster has been distributed as quickly as possible to every location within the empire. Messengers have also been dispatched to negotiate with other nations for its distribution."

  "What about the Church's side?"

  "The wanted poster from the Magic Academy has been submitted to the Church. I hear His Holiness the Pope is also extremely furious and has directly sent the wanted notice to all dioceses and subordinate institutions."

  The Duke nodded in satisfaction, sighing with a hint of emotion: "Such an evil and insane criminal truly requires such measures. His Majesty actually placed such a heavy bounty. Five thousand gold coins—although the Holy See will share part of the cost, it is indeed a significant burden on the treasury. I wonder who will receive such an astonishing reward?" He looked at Rodhart, smiling as he asked: "Do you want it?"

  Rodhart thought for a moment, shook his head slightly, and answered: "I cannot catch him."

  "Many things aren't about strength, but about method. I believe you understand this very well. Because you are a smart person, someone who accomplishes great things." The Duke smiled at his new deputy. "Has any information been found in the archives about that spy from the Magic Academy? For example, where his hometown is, who his family is..."

  "No. It was discovered that all of it was forged."

  "Hehe, truly a spy indeed." The Duke nodded, then asked Rodhart. "You were once friends with that spy. Do you know the details of his background?"

  "I don't know," Rodhart shook his head.

  The Duke nodded, then turned to look at the Finance Minister. "Then you must know, right?"

  "No, I don't know." Sophia's eyes met the Duke's coldly for a moment before she lowered her head to look at the documents again.

  The Duke smiled slightly. "So you don't know either. Then let me tell you. It happens that a long time ago, I learned some clues from certain places, and now I suddenly recall them... That spy's hometown should be in the Kalendor Basin, probably with a blacksmith father. The people there are simple and honest. For such an extraordinary figure to emerge from there, it should be quite easy to find out."

  "I understand. I will go to Kalendor immediately." Rodhart nodded, turned, and exited. The clang of his rhythmic footsteps was the same as when he arrived, but it faded as his figure receded.

  The Duke suddenly recalled the first time he hunted this person. But after going through such a roundabout path, the situation was now completely different. He no longer needed to worry about anything; he could use any method he thought of. Under his profound and subtle schemes, the young man's outcome was almost visible.

  The Duke felt a bit emotional about this person, whom he actually needed so much time to deal with. So many things had happened in between—the variables in the agreement with Oufu, Bishop Ronis's actions... But in the end, he himself had laughed last in a position of complete victory. Thinking about finally thoroughly resolving this opponent who had cost him so much effort, experienced so many twists and turns, and brought him so many victories, the Duke felt a bit reluctant. He sighed, satisfied yet a bit sentimental.

  "Don't do this anymore, alright?" Sophia suddenly spoke up.

  "Don't do what?" The Duke was a bit surprised.

  "Let him go. Don't do this anymore." Sophia looked up, and there was a pleading look in her eyes as she gazed at the Duke. "He won't speak of what you've done. He has no interest in these things at all. Why must you do this? Haven't you killed enough people already?"

  The Duke frowned and shook his head at his daughter: "I thought you had become more sensible. Why are you still so entangled in personal feelings? That is a heretic who murdered the Bishop!"

  "I know he absolutely could not have assassinated the Bishop."

  "I know it's hard for you to believe, but at least a hundred priests witnessed it with their own eyes..."

  "Weren't all those arrangements made by you, Father?" Sophia's voice was trembling. "Even the Bishop was killed by you. Isn't that enough? Please stop."

  "What did you just say?" The Duke looked up, his voice not loud, but his gaze and tone were not those a father should have. "Who told you such nonsense?"

  "No one told me. Who would dare speak of you now? But do you think I can't see it? Besides you, who would dare, who could do such a thing?" Sophia met the Duke's gaze, which seemed capable of casting Ice Needle spells, without showing fear. The tremor in her voice wasn't from fear, but from extreme agitation born of utter despair. This expression appeared even more intense against the backdrop of her majestic and upright official robes. "Have you thought about what the result will be if you continue like this? Do you want to kill everyone who stands in your way and become emperor yourself? And after becoming emperor? Start wars with the surrounding nations? Please stop..."

  "Silence!" The Duke abruptly stood up, glaring at Sophia. The light from his slender eyes seemed as if it wanted to pierce his daughter to shreds on the spot.

  Sophia continued to look at her father. Two pairs of eyes that looked so similar confronted each other with completely different lights.

  After a long while, the Duke finally slowly sat back down. Leaning his head back, he looked at the ceiling and sighed: "Go out first. Let me think."

  Sophia silently exited the study. Returning to her own room, she also sat at her desk in a daze. She truly didn't know how to handle the current situation, or perhaps, for her, she was simply powerless to handle it. The only thing she could do now was pray that she could influence her father, hoping that the bond between father and daughter could make him hesitate, to turn back just a little.

  But not long after, when the sound of dense footsteps echoed from the corridor, Sophia knew she was wrong. Her father hadn't turned back; he had taken another big step forward.

  "My Lady, you are suspected of colluding with that Necromancer Guild spy who murdered the Bishop. Please come with us." The commander of the Capital Guard entered, first performing a salute, then said very politely to Sophia.

  Sophia said nothing, only sighing with a heart broken to death.

  In another room, the Duke also sighed. Reshuffling this card made him feel as if he had aged ten years.