Chapter 267 : Chapter 267
Chapter 267. Ennoblement
The entire hall fell into deathly silence.
Even the Prime Minister froze.
A hereditary count? A private fief?
In the Astrelia Kingdom’s noble hierarchy, a count was not the highest rank, but once the labels of “hereditary” and “territory with real authority” were attached to it, its value was enough to instantly surpass those titular marquises living in the Royal Capital.
More importantly, that was Scream Fortress. That was the strategic dead point guarding the Southern Territory, a place with tens of thousands of elite troops stationed there.
Was Sylvia trying to package up the Southern Territory’s military authority, which had only just fallen into her hands, and hand it directly to Logaris personally?
“This... is this not too great a reward?” An old conservative minister stood up trembling, his voice weak. “Professor Logaris is, after all, still too young. To directly enfeoff him as a count with real authority may make it difficult to convince the public...”
“Young?” Sylvia gave a cold laugh, her gaze sweeping across the ministers who had spoken like a blade. “Could it be that all of you have lived comfortably in the Royal Capital for so long that even your brains have rusted?”
She stood up, braced both hands on the table, and unleashed her full presence. “During Professor Logaris’s tenure at Saint Arcadia Academy, he improved the core power array and supporting facilities of the Magitech Train, increasing the kingdom’s transportation efficiency by more than double. In addition, the modern medicine and first-aid theories he published during his time at the academy greatly improved the treatment success rate of physicians in various regions.”
“That is not even mentioning the spell papers he published in the Royal Capital’s top academic journals. They directly advanced the entire mage system and trained batch after batch of precious magitech talents for the kingdom.”
Sylvia’s voice echoed through the hall, each word forceful and resounding. “Everything I just mentioned is his personal public achievement, and all of it can be verified.”
The implication was that there were also some achievements that could not be verified and were unsuitable to be placed openly on the table.
“Now, as a commander, he has single-handedly saved the entire Southern Territory defensive line and the lives of tens of thousands of soldiers. With these academic contributions worthy of the history books and his immense military merits added together, even making him a marquis would be perfectly reasonable in my view. A mere countship still feels like an injustice to him.”
She turned to look at Logaris. Her originally cold and sharp gaze instantly softened, even carrying a few traces of open “fondness” and tacit understanding. “Logaris, what do you think?”
“I think it is very reasonable.” Logaris nodded righteously and pushed up the glasses on the bridge of his nose.
The Minister of Finance was completely dumbfounded.
He had originally wanted to use the pretext of “not letting the Northern Territory swallow Logaris’s personal merits” to sow discord between them. In the end, he had instead become their greatest assist.
Sylvia had followed the current and, using his words as leverage, forcibly helped Logaris personally obtain a noble title with real authority and a strategic fief in the Southern Territory.
The Minister of Finance looked toward First Prince Dorg for help.
Yet Dorg lowered his eyelids, as if he had entered meditation. He showed no reaction to the argument before him at all and had no intention of intervening.
“Since everyone has no objections.” The Prime Minister looked deeply at Sylvia, then at Logaris. In the end, he signed the parchment document. “Then it is settled. Logaris West is hereby enfeoffed as the ‘Count of Mechanism,’ holding Scream Fortress and the surrounding defensive zones.”
......
After the meeting ended, the heavy oak doors slowly closed, and the crowd dispersed like the tide.
In the shadows of the corridor, the Duke of the Southern Territory, a middle-aged man who had once sat firmly and confidently in court politics, now stood like a petrified statue, fine beads of cold sweat covering his forehead.
He thought of the countless Golden Lion Coins he had poured into Second Prince Carlisle over the past ten years, those secret agreements that could not see the light of day, and the complicated web of interests in the Southern Territory’s noble circle.
He had once thought Carlisle was his ladder to the peak of power. But now, that ladder had broken. Not only was Carlisle dead, he had died in a murky and unexplained manner.
What made his entire body feel even colder was that more than half of the Southern Territory’s border defense authority had been transferred into the Northern Territory’s hands in just a single hour.
If he did not choose a side now, the next ones to suffer might be his entire family. Politics had never had neutrality, only life and death.
The Duke of the Southern Territory took a deep breath, forcefully suppressed the fear in his heart, and quickly caught up with Sylvia, who was about to leave.
“Your Highness! Please wait!”
Sylvia stopped and turned gracefully to the side. Sunlight passed through the stained-glass window and fell across her profile. That perfect aristocratic smile, in the duke’s eyes, was more piercing than ice in the depths of winter.
“Oh? Your Grace, what business do you have?”
The Duke of the Southern Territory gritted his teeth and, under everyone’s watchful eyes, performed the most standard bow.
“The situation in the Southern Territory is turbulent, and my daughter has always admired Your Highness’s bearing... I wonder whether she may go to the Northern Territory and learn a thing or two under Your Highness?”
He was offering a hostage.
The smile in Sylvia’s eyes deepened. She did not immediately help the duke up. Instead, she allowed him to kneel on the cold stone tiles for three seconds.
“Of course.” Only after three seconds did she lightly support him with a gesture, her tone as brisk as if they were discussing desserts for afternoon tea. “The Northern Territory’s doors are always open to friends.”
......
The next morning.
The morning at the Golden Rose Palace was awakened by a burst of urgent and monotonous ceremonial music.
Logaris stood before the full-length mirror and allowed two palace ladies to fuss over him. The robe symbolizing his identity as the “Count of Mechanism” was made from extraordinary materials, and its red base with gold trim dazzled under the sunlight.
He lowered his head and looked at the lord’s seal engraved with the emblem of a gear and a staff, then casually stuffed it into his pocket.
“Professor, the collar clasp of this robe needs to be fastened tightly. It represents the dignity of the royal family,” a palace lady reminded him in a low voice.
“If dignity needs to be maintained by something like this, then this kingdom is not far from collapse.” Logaris pushed up the rimless glasses on the bridge of his nose, his tone calm.
The palace lady choked and did not dare to respond.
Toward this title of “count,” which countless Royal Capital nobles would rack their brains over and even go bankrupt to obtain, Logaris did not feel even the slightest ripple in his heart, much less any flattered joy.
After personally witnessing ancient secrets from a thousand years ago, learning the truth about the gods and Dragon Kings, and even discussing principles, crossing hands, and exchanging knowledge with Mad King Maxim, who had once touched the realm of gods, the noble title bestowed by secular royal authority had long since lost its weight to him.
This was just like how Mad King Maxim would absolutely not feel happy merely because he had successfully published a paper in an ordinary academic journal. When the realm a person stood in was different, the way he viewed things became completely different as well.
The investiture ceremony proceeded in an orderly fashion. There were no impassioned speeches as expected, only tedious procedures. Prime Minister Moran stood on the high platform and read the commendation order in that aged, utterly monotonous voice of his.
The investiture ceremony ended hastily amid the sound of ceremonial cannons, because an even heavier matter lay immediately afterward—Second Prince Carlisle’s funeral.