Chapter 26: The Reason

"This plant is known as purple cane. It’s a crop cultivated by the forest centaurs, its juice sweet and delectable. Unfortunately, it leaves so much residue that humans can’t eat it, unless we could be like the centaurs, with sturdy teeth and three stomachs." Edwin spat the remains of the chewed cane onto the ground.

Victor looked at the freshly cut purple cane in his hand, savoring the sweet taste in his mouth, his heart stirred with excitement—this crop was clearly the sugarcane of this world!

Of course, it differed from the sugarcane of Earth. The purple cane had no joints on its surface, and its flavor, compared to the cloying sweetness of ordinary cane, was milder with a unique fragrant aroma. Its residue was much heavier; chewing it could even prick one’s tongue.

"Why haven’t I seen this crop elsewhere in the Centaur Hills? For example, in Black Castle or Baron Eskri’s domain, it’s nowhere to be found." Victor discarded the cane in his hand. Its residue was coarse and excessive, and he no longer wished to try it again.

"Because they’ve all been chopped down. The forest centaurs planted these everywhere on the fertile lands of the hills. Unless they’re cleared out, farmers can’t sow their crops. In fact, after several years of development, the original appearance of the Centaur Hills has been almost completely destroyed. Only in your territory does the land retain its native look." Edwin grinned.

The old scholar, occupied with other studies in previous years, hadn’t participated in the exploration of the Centaur Hills. Now, if he wished to observe traces of the forest centaur’s civilization, he could only come to Victor’s domain.

This also revealed that the land Sylvia had exchanged for Victor was clearly an undeveloped wasteland! Yet, at the time, he had no other choice. This thought made Victor somewhat gloomy.

However, seeing the swathes of purple cane, he couldn’t help but feel excitement again.

There was no refined sugar in this world; people generally used wild honey, but honey was scarce and precious, unable even to meet the demands of the noble class. If Victor could use purple cane to produce sugar, it would bring him immense wealth.

"Purple cane is sweet, though its residue is excessive. But if it’s only used for juicing, wouldn’t it make a good beverage?"

"Some have tried pressing juice from purple cane, but unfortunately the nobles generally regard the forest centaurs as a kind of centaur, a lowly beastfolk, and only commoners eat beastfolk food. So, under the orders of local lords, purple cane has been cut down everywhere." The old scholar shrugged indifferently.

This was both good and bad news. On one hand, no one yet realized the value of purple cane; on the other, it would be difficult to convince the noble class to accept sugar made from it.

A commotion arose ahead, and Victor and Edwin walked forward to find a crowd gathered around a giant net containing an enormous monstrous bird.

The bird was as large as a grown horse, with a massive, sharp beak and shimmering dark green feathers. Its powerful talons tore at the ground, desperately trying to break free from the net, but the net was tough and hard to strain against. So, it could only lie on the ground, futilely calling out with guttural cries.

Seeing their lord and Master Edwin approach, the onlookers quickly made way.

"What is this?" Victor asked, curious about the creature that looked like a cross between a velociraptor and a rooster.

"My lord, we don’t know. Some villagers were trying to catch a few ground lizards for food, and found this creature in the purple cane grove, so I led a team to capture it," explained a nearby mercenary from the Bear Warriors.

"This is a swift bird, a large terrestrial bird unique to the Centaur Hills. These birds are strong and fast, running even faster than warhorses. They feed on purple cane leaves and other plants, and sometimes hunt ground lizards and frogs. Swift birds are powerful enough to easily kick in a person’s ribs, and their sharp beaks can pierce leather armor. You should be grateful that no one was hurt catching it."

Edwin looked delightedly at the struggling bird, continuing, "Swift birds have enormous appetites. Without enough food, they start eating farmers’ crops. Their meat is tender and delicious, so many lords in the Centaur Hills have ordered them hunted. Now, you won’t find such birds anywhere else here. How lucky! I thought I’d never taste this delicacy again, but the moment I arrive in your domain, we catch a fresh one."

Victor stumbled at the old scholar’s last words.

Indeed, in the world of food lovers, there is no concept of environmental protection.

Meanwhile, at the Marquis of Wimbledon’s residence in the royal capital, Lord Abel was reporting to a graceful lady behind a sheer silk curtain about what he had seen and heard in Black Castle.

"My lady, I believe we should immediately petition the Senate to delay the impeachment of Lord Victor, and also dispatch knights to Black Castle to stabilize the situation," Abel said respectfully to the silhouette behind the curtain.

"It’s too late, Abel. Just the day before your return, the Senate received Victor’s personally signed land exchange document. The York family swapped a tract of southern hill land for Victor’s domain," came a voice as melodious as a spring.

"How could this happen?! Before I left, I told Victor not to act rashly—how could he sign such a document?" Abel was alarmed by the sudden turn of events.

"It’s not surprising. Since she decided to act against us, she wouldn’t leave any loopholes. Even if Victor didn’t sign the exchange, we would have no chance in the Senate debate. You may not know, but three days ago, the Duke Williams’ heir, Viscount Charles, became engaged to the granddaughter of the Senate’s Vice Speaker, Marquis Greyward. Now, we are at a complete disadvantage in the Senate, so whether Victor signed or not, it wouldn’t change the York family’s consolidation of their territory."

"I didn’t expect the Countess of York to be so shrewd." Abel was crestfallen after hearing the lady’s explanation. He prided himself on his cunning, but found his strategies insignificant before the machinations of the great nobility.

"Hmph! York himself is nothing; I speak of his wife, Sylvia." A stunningly beautiful woman lifted the silk curtain and stepped out gracefully.

She appeared to be around twenty-seven or twenty-eight, mature and intellectual, yet on closer inspection, she seemed no more than a pure girl of twenty. She wore a white, fitted gown, simply styled but exquisitely tailored to accentuate her slender figure and graceful curves, elegant with a hint of sensuality. Her skin was snowy white, her features delicate, her manner dignified and poised. Her lustrous purple hair and eyes, shining like amethyst, lent her an air of mystery and allure.

Youth and maturity, grace and sensuality, dignity and allure—all were perfectly embodied in her, giving her a strange charm. She was Victor’s nominal wife, Lady Sophia Wimbledon, the Marquis.

Perhaps dazzled by her radiance, Lord Abel quickly bowed his head.

"Are you wondering why I didn’t send knights with Victor to the Centaur Hills?" Sophia seemed to see through her aide’s confusion and dissatisfaction.

Indeed, if Sophia had sent two knights with Victor, his safety would have been assured and none of this would have happened.

"I have some affection for Sylvia. Frankly, though our positions differ, I didn’t wish to offend her. Not sending knights was my way of conveying this. I knew, with Sylvia’s temperament, she’d take a firm stand when faced with pressure from the Prince’s Party. I just didn’t expect that shameless woman to disregard our past friendship and strike first!" The ruthless act of her former confidante ignited a burning fury in Sophia’s heart.

"What about Victor?" Abel asked, steeling himself before the furious lady.

Regardless of whether the York family succeeded in their territorial consolidation, Victor’s signing of the exchange was a betrayal to the family, causing the Prince’s Party’s plans in the Hills to fail. Such behavior must be punished.

Even among allies, unity is never absolute. Sophia was famous in the capital for her beauty and wealth; she owned four trading companies that brought her vast profits annually. Naturally, this offended even some families within the Prince’s Party, who would seize Victor’s betrayal as an opportunity to attack Sophia.

"I understand your meaning. While we may face some criticism, it may not be a bad thing. Her Majesty Catherine has always harbored doubts about my relationship with Sylvia—this conflict should assure her, especially since we’ve lost half a million gold sols. As for Victor... his cowardice and weakness disappoint me. From now on, all support to him will be cut off. That shameless Sylvia will show him what regret truly means!" Mentioning Victor, Sophia’s gaze softened for a moment, then hardened again.

As Abel was about to speak, a maid approached and curtsied to Sophia, saying, "My lady, as you requested, Lord Andre is waiting in the drawing room."

"Andre’s here already?! Lucy, come quickly and check if my hair looks all right!" Sophia exclaimed in delight upon hearing her guest had arrived.

A rosy blush colored her ivory cheeks, her bright eyes curved like crescent moons. Only moments ago, she was a formidable woman of deep wisdom; now, she transformed into a bashful maiden, ignoring Abel and entering the room with her maid.

Andre was a golden knight from the United Kingdom of Borre in the east, not only powerful but also young and handsome, dazzling as the sun. He had been in Gambis’ capital for only half a year, yet his elegance and noble bloodline had won the favor of countless noble ladies. He always kept himself above reproach, with no scandals, which made him all the more alluring—Sophia included.

This, Abel thought, was the real reason Victor had been kicked out of the capital.

In fact, except for Victor himself, all the nobles believed Sophia had sent him to the distant Centaur Hills to pursue the golden knight Andre.

Victor, in the Centaur Hills with no money or manpower, now had his barony replaced by wasteland by the York family, and his family would soon cut off all support. Abel could hardly imagine what Victor would face.

Fend for yourself, Victor.

Abel sighed and left the Marquis’ residence.

Standing before the moss-covered castle, Victor’s face was ashen; he now knew the meaning of regret.

He looked at Sir Bruce, who stared straight ahead.

He turned to Nicole, the female apprentice knight, who kept her head down, intently staring at the ground before her toes as if some secret awaited her discovery.