Chapter 331
Chapter 331: These Old Coots—Every One More Formidable Than the Last
The moment he saw the golden wheat stalks, Weija—perched on Viktor's shoulder—also came to a halt, having sensed a faint, familiar aura.
A solitary eye fixed itself on the golden wheat stalks, staring unblinking.
"Viktor, this is quite the find."
The Crow's voice reached his ear, yet Viktor's expression remained unchanged.
Seeing Viktor's impassive face, Count Laurien held the golden wheat stalks with a smile.
"Please rest assured, Council Member Viktor."
"This is absolutely the genuine article."
Not the imitations hanging in the farmfields outside, nor the divine creations fashioned by the Devotees that lasted only a year—but a true divine object.
So long as it remained in one's territory, it would guarantee the farmlands flourished year after year.
Seeing this, Viktor said evenly:
"Count Laurien."
"What exactly do you mean by this?"
Upon hearing Viktor's words, Count Laurien set the wheat stalks down on the table.
He then let out a long breath, as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and spoke to Viktor.
"Because I permitted the followers of the Goddess of Abundance to reside in my territory and spread their teachings."
"These followers—pitifully few in number—presented me with what is said to be the last divine object the Goddess left behind."
While the Kingdom did not prohibit the spread of churches and divine worship, most lords would not allow such congregants to settle within their own territories.
After all, doing so would, in large part, erode the lord's hold over his lands.
If everyone turned to worshipping gods, who would still care about a mere lord?
Count Laurien was one of the rare few who permitted a church to take up residence and spread its teachings.
As he had said, these followers were too pitiable for words.
The entire congregation of the Goddess of Abundance numbered barely 2,000 souls.
They even resorted to selling the divine objects their Goddess had left behind just to sustain the church's livelihood.
If things continued as they were, once this last generation had all passed from the world, the teachings of the Goddess of Abundance would perhaps be utterly forgotten.
Viktor was well aware of this.
With the Gods disappearing one after another, only the Goddess of Justice remained in the world.
In those days, most divine followers had believed their Gods had abandoned them.
And so ever more people had turned to worshipping the Goddess of Justice.
Only a handful still clung to their faiths—their deities now little more than names.
Though in the end, even the Goddess of Justice had grown disappointed in humanity and chosen to depart.
Yet the Church of the Goddess of Justice had grown to dominate all others, giving rise to countless fanatical Devotees.
Compared to the Goddess of Justice's followers, the worshippers of all other Gods combined did not amount to even a tenth of their number.
At this moment, Count Laurien bowed deeply to Viktor.
"To have both you and Princess Auréliane arrive together in the Kant Kingdom—this is my one and only chance."
"I know that the Mage Council is contending with the Church of Justice for divine orthodoxy, so you may have use for this."
"I ask only that you lend me your aid."
By the Mage Council's moral principles.
Viktor's expression remained unmoved, but in the next instant, his gaze settled on the wheat stalks.
Magic Power seeped out and coiled around the golden wheat stalks.
A moment later, the wheat stalks seemed to be crushed and enveloped by Magic Power, dissolving into scattered points of golden starlight before fading into nothing.
Watching the wheat stalks vanish into thin air, Count Laurien let out a breath of relief.
He understood—Viktor had accepted the gift.
And that meant Viktor had agreed to his request.
Sure enough, after a moment, Viktor raised his head and looked at Count Laurien once more.
"I can consider it. But first, tell me."
"Since Priscilla has already become a departed soul, why do you still refuse to let Priscilla and her mother meet?"
"Because—"
Laurien's words had barely begun when Viktor cut him off:
"Tell me the truth."
Viktor's eyes—brilliant as obsidian—glimmered with a deep, penetrating light, as though he had long since seen through everything:
"In my eyes, you cannot deceive me."
Count Laurien held his gaze in silence for a moment, drew a deep breath, and at last spoke:
"I……"
***
The following morning, the dawn light gradually stained the horizon crimson, spilling across the broad roads of the Kant Kingdom and the Carriages rolling along them. That morning, Auréliane woke alongside Gwen.
She had no idea how it had happened—last night, she had simply fallen asleep right there in Master Gwen's bed.
She cast her mind back to the previous evening: she had been waiting in Viktor's room for Professor Viktor to return.
But sitting there on the bed, waiting and waiting, she had drifted off to sleep.
And so she had spent the night alongside Master Gwen.
Though when she woke, Master Gwen had shown no reaction at all.
Auréliane, however, felt no small degree of awkwardness.
Alongside the awkwardness, there was also a measure of comfort.
After all, sleeping beside Master Gwen, she had no need to worry about the Manor being haunted.
And besides—
Thinking back on it, Auréliane felt a pleasant warmth wash over her.
She still remembered that Master Gwen carried a faint, sweet fragrance—a natural scent that drifted from her effortlessly, like the bloom of white roses.
No wonder so many people were drawn to her.
Though she owed Xiangyilan an apology.
The poor little Cat-girl had woken that morning convinced she had been carried off by a departed soul, and had been frightened half out of her wits.
When they gathered with the convoy in the morning, her eyes had been slightly red and swollen.
Because of that, Auréliane had spent a good while soothing her.
After a full night's rest, Auréliane had recovered some of her spirits.
Having settled today's arrangements with Count Laurien, they were to visit the King of the Kant Kingdom that day.
On her way back, she caught sight of Viktor standing beside the Carriage, idly twirling a golden wheat stalk between his fingers.
Auréliane couldn't help but draw a little closer, and asked with curiosity:
"Professor, is that the gift Count Laurien gave you?"
Viktor gave a slight nod, his usual indifference still firmly in place.
"Mm, more or less."
He set the wheat stalk on his shoulder and passed it to Weija.
The Crow caught the golden wheat stalk in its beak and held it there.
Then Viktor turned to look at Auréliane:
"Still frightened?"
At those words, Auréliane's body gave a faint shiver, her thoughts drifting back to Priscilla from the day before.
Though she had learned from Professor Viktor about Count Laurien's tragic circumstances, and why Priscilla—as a departed soul—existed within the Manor, she still felt deeply unsettled by such apparitions.
She had never been good at dealing with things that no longer lived.
"Is that so."
Viktor said, and left it at that.
Today, Count Laurien would not be sharing their Carriage—he needed to lead the way ahead.
With the rising sun, the convoy set off.
The Carriages rolled over the cobblestone roads, wheels and hoofbeats striking out a crisp rhythm, bells chiming softly within the carriages.
The sun lingered long in the sky, but urged on by the star-strewn night, it at last descended toward the western hills.
Until the darkness of night crept quietly in.
***
Mitao Royal City.
That was the royal capital of the Kant Kingdom.
It stood like a razor-edged iron arm—3 colossal stone pillars holding aloft a vast expanse of architecture, the enormous royal city clad entirely in steel.
The moment one set foot on that land, a killing stillness pressed straight into the heart.
Towering steel gleamed with a pale, gem-like radiance through windows of varying depths, and ridge-like spires jutted sharply across every face of the castle.
The 3 great stone pillars rose in unison, hoisting the enormous castle skyward with force.
The moment the convoy entered, the sounds that reached their ears shifted.
The crisp rolling of wheels echoed into something deeper and more rhythmic.
As they passed through the gates of the royal city, countless soldiers in heavy armor had long been waiting—steadfast as iron and stone, breath misting in the cold, clad in black iron armor, marching in heavy, measured steps as they escorted the convoy deep into the castle.
Even passersby, upon catching sight of the Carriages, stopped in their tracks to watch the procession led by the magnificent convoy.
With all eyes upon it, the convoy rolled across the orderly stone-paved road and came to a halt before the dark steel castle.
On either side of the castle, 2 rows of ministers in lead-gray robes stood in respectful formation, awaiting the Carriages' arrival.
On each of their chests, star-shaped badges gleamed—varying in number.
Each star represented a single rank of nobility.
2-star and 3-star Viscounts and Counts stood at the tail of the formation, while the handful of 4-star Marquesses stood at the very front, their expressions solemn and deferential.
At every waist hung a longsword of some variety, each radiating the cold indifference of Cold-Iron.
The Carriages drew to a stop before the castle, the foremost door swung open, and Count Laurien stepped down first.
The moment he alighted, he moved to the Carriage behind and respectfully helped the 2 passengers descend.
Viktor—dressed in his black Coat—stepped down first.
His cool, composed presence blended seamlessly with the gravity of the surroundings.
He then turned, and extended his hand toward the carriage.
From within, a slender hand came to rest in Viktor's.
Drawing on Viktor's steady grip, Auréliane stepped lightly from the carriage, stepping down with graceful ease.
After her, 12 Imperial diplomatic ministers descended in turn from the Carriages behind.
The Empire's delegation had arrived in full.
And on the Kingdom's side—
At some unknown moment, the gazes of the assembled nobility all shifted toward the gates of the black castle.
There, from beneath the dark castle gates, emerged an elderly man leaning on a magnificent walking cane.
With each unhurried step he took, the cane's tip met the stone-paved road, striking out a series of clear, measured reverberations.
This elder appeared at a glance much like any other nobleman—clad in a lead-gray robe—yet the slight curve of his back betrayed the passage of many years.
And yet, the sharp, profound gleam in those eyes seemed to carry the power to pierce through all things, making one feel there was nothing they could conceal.
On his chest, 5 golden star badges gleamed—understated, yet unmistakably distinguished.
At that moment, even the Imperial diplomatic ministers understood.
Within the entire Kingdom, only one person bore 5 stars.
The Kingdom's legendary Duke.
Festan Balo.
In that instant, every eye in the assembly fell upon this Grand Duke.
The noble bearing he exuded seemed to drape his hunched figure in a layer of mysterious radiance—awe-inspiring, and impossibly remote.
He inclined his head toward the arriving party in a slight bow.
Then his gaze came to rest on Auréliane and Viktor.
"Honored guests who have come from afar."
Deep and inscrutable, his words left their meaning impossible to fathom.
"We have been awaiting your arrival for some time."