Chapter 163: Undercurrent

"Viscount Victor is merely an insignificant lesser noble with only two fierce warriors under his command—one named Nelson and the other Renault. Once those two are lured away, he lacks even the ability to defend himself against an ordinary assassin."

William gazed coldly at Varus, and after a long silence, he smiled. "Varus, if you hadn't followed me since childhood, I would begin to doubt your loyalty."

"Viscount Victor may be worthless, but we cannot ignore the reaction of the York family. Sylvia secured the viscountcy for Victor and reserved a vast territory for him. On the surface, it appears to be Sylvia's indulgence toward her lover, but in reality, the York family is using the Viscountcy of Victor as a buffer to prevent other lords from catching us and the Yorks in a difficult position between them. I can assert that the Viscountcy of Victor will become a vital diplomatic and trade conduit between the Centaur Hills and other families. I support this as well. Now, the Sassanids have stirred up this little trick of a political marriage; we are baffled, the Dodorans are restless, and the Navarrians remain ambiguous. Whether for the sake of internal stability or to deter external enemies, Sylvia is someone we must unite with. Hmph, perhaps Sylvia cares little for her petty lover, but if the hand extended by the York family were to be severed, how do you suppose they would react? Never raise such a suggestion again!"

Faced with the Grand Duke's reprimand, Varus bowed slightly. "Your Grace, I entirely agree with your view. A Golden Knight cannot be swayed by mere beauty. What Sylvia truly wishes to protect is Sophia, or rather, the chamber of commerce she controls. For the next few years, the Centaur Hills will require external supplies, and the chamber of commerce in Sophia's hands is far too important to the York family.

According to our Night Owl investigations, both Sophia and Sylvia hail from minor noble families in the Souss Kingdom. The difference is that Sylvia joined the York family, while Sophia joined the chamber of commerce of the Wimbledon family. Although it remains unclear how the two intersected, their relationship is undeniably very close. I believe that were it not for Sophia, Sylvia would care very little about whether Viscount Victor lives or dies.

As it happens, Viscount Victor founded the Randall family, and Sophia now holds the title of Viscountess Randall. Should Viscount Victor meet with an accidental death, we could allow Sophia to inherit the Randall family's lands and title. In this way, the York family's buffer would remain intact, Lord Soren could inherit the marquessate, and you would likely gain a fiercely loyal Golden Knight, much like the relationship between your great-grandfather and Master Gorong."

William's eyes flickered. Ever since Ryan's death, he had felt that the future of the August family rested entirely upon his shoulders, leaving him overwhelmed and struggling to move forward. Logically speaking, Roland was the first in line for the throne, and William was the second. As for that little fellow Edward, he could not even be counted as third in line. Yet Roland refused to inherit the throne and instead supported Prince Edward, leaving William completely powerless. The fundamental reason for this was that William lacked a Golden Knight among his ranks. If Soren truly could reach the pinnacle, William's situation would ease considerably; even if he could not ascend the throne directly, many of his policies could be implemented smoothly. However, in William's heart, the fate of the family mattered far more than the throne, and he was forced to weigh the risks involved.

William shook his head slowly and resolutely. "The dignity of a Golden Knight brooks no challenge; never mistake Sylvia's forbearance for weakness. Even if your reasoning is sound, we cannot afford to take the risk. Sylvia has already accepted Her Majesty Catherine's invitation to attend this royal hunting festival. Right now, stability supersedes everything else."

The Sassanid Emperor had deliberately leaked rumors of a marriage alliance with Cambis, stirring up undercurrents and endless twists among the three kingdoms. Faced with such informal rumors, the Cambisian royal family was in no position to issue a public stance. Furthermore, because Cambis lacked a king, private promises could hardly win the trust of Dodor and Navarre. Not long ago, the Navarrian Golden Knight, Marquis Hedin, accepted an invitation from the King of Dodor and led his personal guard to visit the Dodoran capital. Ordinarily, this would have been the most standard of diplomatic exchanges, but in the eyes of the August family, it carried a distinct undercurrent. It was precisely amidst this bizarre atmosphere that the August family needed to convey to the outside world an image of Cambis as united and impregnable—hence Queen Catherine's initiative to invite the kingdom's lords to the royal festival.

As a senior figure within the Night Owl organization, Varus understood this crystal clear. He said, "Your Grace, Viscount Victor is a fief-holding lord of Cambis, so we naturally will not strike against him. But some events are simply beyond our control."

"What do you mean?" William frowned and demanded.

"Well, we have just received news: Clovis Wimbledon, the lover of Souss Queen Eleanor, was assassinated. Eleanor is flying into a rage, swearing to hunt down the murderer to avenge her beloved."

"Judging by the methodology of the crime, the murderer of Clovis Wimbledon bears a striking resemblance to the notorious Cutthroat. Not long ago, the Night Owl received a petition from the Minister of the Interior, Marquis Ludwig. Michelle, the fiancée of the Marquis's direct grandson, was also murdered by the Cutthroat. These two victims share a common trait: both were awakeners of Moon Elf bloodline. It would seem the Cutthroat has set his sights on Moon Elf blood, and as it happens, Viscount Victor is also a Moon Elf bloodline awakener!"

"Interesting!" After pondering for a moment, William smiled meaningfully.

The Cutthroat was unfathomably mysterious; whether he was a single individual or multiple people was impossible to verify, nor was there any need to. In truth, numerous murders were pinned upon the Cutthroat, a fact of which the nobility was well aware. In William's view, these two murders might not be connected at all, and the victims' shared bloodline characteristics could be purely coincidental. Yet such a coincidence could be utilized. As Varus had said, Viscount Victor was merely an insignificant lesser noble; once Sophia inherited the Randall title and lands, Sylvia would have no grounds to act out. As for Sophia losing her chamber of commerce and marquess title, compensation could be provided through other means. In the context of the current situation, neither territory nor material goods could compare to a Golden Knight.

"Varus, the Cutthroat has just struck in the Souss Kingdom. It will be at least half a year before he reaches Cambis, won't it?"

"Your Grace, I understand."

"Also, go tell Soren that if he inherits the marquessate, that viscountcy will cease to exist."

"Your Grace, I imagine Lord Soren will be endlessly grateful to you."

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At the heart of Baron Matthew's fiefdom stood a thirty-meter-high gray stone castle. Moss and stonecrops grew upon its mottled walls, the accumulation of passing years. Having weathered a century of trials, the castle was both sturdy and functional. Its interior space appeared cramped, dark, and damp, exactly like most baronial castles; minor lords rarely possessed the financial means to decorate the rooms within.

Clearly, residing in such an ancient fortress was hardly a pleasant experience, which was why Baron Matthew Briat spent most of his time in the manor behind the castle. At that moment, Baron Matthew was in the manor's reception room, listening to a report from his subordinate.

A soldier knelt on one half-knee before Baron Matthew, fear still lingering on his face: "They came without any warning. I saw them burst out from the forest, and in an instant, they were right upon us. The crossbow bolts we fired couldn't even graze them. Although we used shields and spears to fight them off, Mote was dragged away. We listened to his screams, yet there was nothing we could do. We huddled tightly together back-to-back, and I could feel those beasts staring at us the entire time; the moment our guard slipped, they would drag away another fellow. We could only retreat in a tight formation, and it wasn't until we left that forest that they gave up the pursuit."

Baron Matthew felt an overwhelming terror in his heart. Though a lord, he was not a knight. To him, dire wolves were equally nightmarish presences, but as a lord, he could not allow himself to display such panic.

"Cadde, you did well! Your decisiveness saved the others. Go down and get some proper rest, and by the way, send fifty gold solars of compensation to Mote's family. Tell his parents that Mote was a brave warrior, and his heir may take his place," Baron Matthew said to the soldier in a deep voice.

Once the soldier had left the reception room, full of profuse gratitude, Baron Matthew turned to two knights clad in heavy armor and said, "There have always been rumors of dire wolves in that territory. It seems my poor subjects have already been swallowed by the wolves; there is no need to investigate this matter further."

"My lord speaks wisely. We should issue notices to all villages, forbidding the peasants from foraging in that forest," the older knight said to Matthew.

However, the younger knight looked at him with dissatisfaction, turned to Baron Matthew, and said, "Father, over three hundred people in twenty-odd days, and not a single one ran back. Can the bellies of dire wolves really be that bottomless? There is definitely something wrong here, and we must investigate thoroughly! Otherwise, who knows what kind of disaster is lying in wait for us."

"This—" Baron Matthew said in a troubled tone, "James, my son, you must understand me. The strength of our family is not great, that forest is far away from us, and dire wolves are notoriously difficult to deal with—even the ant tide failed to wipe them out. I think it is best to report this to Wildwillow City and let the Lord Viscount send someone to handle it."

Baron Matthew's incoherent words filled James with shame and annoyance. He viewed this as a display of cowardice, entirely failing to comprehend his father's anxiety for him.

"Lord Viscount? Where in our family is there still a Lord Viscount? Lord Obeys died fighting in the ant tide, while that despicable and shameless Austin is plotting to usurp his own nephew's title. Do you think he will pay us any mind? Father, Lady Judy is my sister, your daughter! Yet we have no way to help her, and now we must rely on her to help us?"

Watching James storm out of the manor in anger, Baron Matthew leaned weakly back against his chair, appearing aged far beyond his years. The older knight lowered his voice and said to Baron Matthew, "My lord, I will quietly follow behind him. If there is any danger, I can provide support to James."

"No!" Baron Matthew pressed down hard on the older knight's shoulder until his fingers turned white, then slowly said, "Francis, the family needs a knight to stand guard! James will be fine."