Sword of Dawnbreaker-Chapter 173 - Restless Winds
Chapter 173: Restless Winds
The rain began to get heavy.
Cold air currents brought even colder rain. According to the weather of this region in past years, this could perhaps be the last rainfall before snow came. And the Kant territory had always been the area of the entire south where rain was most plentiful. It was no exception right now.
The raindrops had connected to form rain curtains, hanging slanted from the sky with the wind, splashing in the wilderness, splashing in the town, splashing on the outer walls of the Kant Clan’s old castle. Rainwater gathered to form little streams running down the dark red spires and black outer walls that were mottled and uneven due to the corrosion of time and present a black-oil-like shining texture in the increasingly dimming daylight.
However, the castle’s thick outer walls kept the sounds of the wind and rain outside behind them and also blocked out the frigid air that was unceasingly getting stronger. In the lobby of the old castle, magic crystal lamps shed light in all the corners; the situation where there would be looming shadows even when the place was filled with lights had vanished for some reason. Right now, the entire castle was brightly lit under the illumination of magic crystal lamps. Add to that, with blazing fireplaces and firepans everywhere, the whole clan castle was filled with the air of light and warmth.
Servants were all over the place working hard to wipe the tables and chairs, lamp holders and statues, making all these objects that carried the history and glory of the clan shine under the light. They discussed the weather outside that was getting colder and colder, discussed the harvests of the territory’s crops and herbs, and discussed the distinguished guest that the Viscount was going to host today. —— Cleaning had begun in the entire castle two days ago; everything took on a new look. The guest was someone extraordinary.
Then, they saw the old butler of the castle Mr. Carter, who was getting on in years but still strong in his legs, hastily run down the staircase of the hall. There were also the supervisors of the maidservants and manservants following behind him; they sped through the whole hall like a burst of wind towards the front doors. The maidservant supervisor was shouting at those clumsy maidservants at the same time, “Quickly put the pails away!” “Don’t leave the rags on the tabletop.” “Silly girl, quickly return to the kitchen! We cannot let the Duke see a lowly maidservant wearing a dirty dress standing in the hall, do you understand?!” “Everyone back to your positions! The guest is here!”
Viscount Victor Kant walked down the staircase from the second level. Right as the butler was about to touch the front door, he happened to stand still in the spot in the middle of the hall. This spot allowed him to spread open his arms to welcome the esteemed guest from the perfect distance. It wouldn’t leave the guest awkward from waiting too long; neither would it make the owner of the castle seem eager like a lowly servant.
The old butler arrived at the doors. He pulled out his handkerchief and carefully cleaned his hands while silently counting the time in his heart, estimating when the knocking would sound according to the time the tower guards delivered the news as well as his own movement speed.
When he silently counted till 30, there was a knock on the front door.
They couldn’t make an esteemed guest like the Duke knock a second time —— even if the person knocking was only the Duke’s groom or guard. However, he couldn’t open the door immediately either; this would be indecorous. Therefore, Carter silently counted to three, and before the second knocking could sound, he ordered the soldiers standing on the sides of the door to pull the gear.
The extremely heavy ‘front door’ that could withstand 82 strikes from the battering ram opened under the force of hinges and gear trains. The heavy creaking sound seemed to carry the Kant Clan’s 300 years of prestige.
And a person with 700 years of prestige walked through the doors, the freezing wind and rain blowing into the hall behind him.
Immediately, there were servants coming forth to take the cloak or hat that the guests removed, and the handymen running out to take over the carriage stopped outside. Gawain walked into the Kant castle’s main hall with Amber and Sir Philip. He saw an old aristocrat wearing a dark red long jacket with hair that was almost fully white and with lots of speckles on his face walking towards him with both arms wide open. This Viscount Victor Kant was a little older than he had imagined, but his legs and feet were clearly still fine.
“Ah, today this castle welcomed its most distinguished guest ever, a living legend!” Viscount Kant said aloud. “I’m sorry to have you arrive in such terrible weather. ——If only I had the spells to control climate phenomena.”
“Actually, I really like rainy weather.” Gawain did not accept the Viscount’s hug and only shook hands with him. This wasn’t aloofness but the rule when a higher-ranking noble met with a lower-ranking noble —— the lower-ranking noble had to express a certain level of enthusiasm and respect, but unless the two were in a definite subordinate-superior relationship, the higher ranking noble did not need to accept it; only, he still ought to return a certain level of courtesy. These messy conventions were utterly troublesome to Gawain, but abiding by it now wouldn’t make him lose a piece of flesh. “I already saw the Kant territory’s fertile land before the rain came. After the rain fell, I saw pretty good rainy scenery. It was rather worth it.”
“It’s best that you’re pleased.” Victor Kant smiled, his smile gentle and calm, like an old gentleman with a good upbringing who couldn’t be more normal. “I’ve prepared a welcome dinner for you. It is in the dining room behind this hall.”
Amber had been standing behind Gawain with her head down the whole time. She was not very used to such a serious, proper occasion of sheer aristocratic elegance, so she kept quiet for once. However, upon hearing about ‘eating’, her ears still betrayed her. The pair of sharp ears that were derived from the elven bloodline immediately started trembling, turning here and there on her head like radar, as if searching for more information to do with ‘eating’.
Meanwhile, Gawain agreed with a smile while secretly examining the appearance of this old Viscount in front of him.
Old, but still healthy. An easy smile, a warm temperament with some breeziness. Not the slightest hint of an aura related to a heretic cult believer could be seen on him.
But this could not be the basis of judgment.
He smiled. After accepting the old Viscount’s invitation to the banquet, he led Amber and Sir Philip to walk into the depths of the Kant castle.
……
At the same time, in the Silver Castle in the city of St. Soniel, the old King, Francis II, was reading the secret letters in front of him with a frown.
These secret letters came from the ‘aristocrats of the King’s party’ who had their titles directly conferred by the King placed throughout the kingdom. There were also such people around the territories of the three border dukes, or to put it more directly, they were simply ‘spies’. Such a system that was inherited from the founding king had been perpetuated for 700 years. It was an important tool for the Anzu royal family’s control over the entire kingdom. The Fog Month internal conflict as well as the Second Dynasty’s ‘illegitimate-child weak spot’ had once rendered this system useless. However, after a hundred years of reestablishment, especially when the few Dukes successively compromised for the stability of the kingdom, this intelligence network that belonged to the King still operated as effectively as it did during the First Dynasty.
The majority of the aristocrats whose titles were directly conferred by the King were located in the south; only a small group of them were distributed in other places in the kingdom. Usually, the secret letters sent back by these spies reported the situations at their respective lands. Those situations were poles apart with essentially nothing in common. However, the secret letters that came recently showed a trend that had Francis II vaguely uneasy——
There were more and more reports about various dark sects being active, and these numbers were growing everywhere in the kingdom.
Although, till today, these additional reports only took up less than 10% of the entire kingdom’s, they had become so widespread. This was enough to make the old King concerned.
Anzu indeed had a decadent system, but its Kings were essentially all clever people.
At present, before him was a secret letter from the southern borders’ Viscount Andrew Leslie. The content of this letter was even graver than the reported situations from the other aristocrats elsewhere:
A heretic cult believer from the Oblivion Association appeared in Tanzan Town. The heretic cult believer had sneaked in on one occasion and controlled part of the staff using sorcery. Fortunately, Duke Gawain Cecil sent assistance. The Duke eradicated the heretic cult believer lurking on this land.
The old King wouldn’t know that Viscount Andrew Leslie had already concealed many truths in this secret letter — for example, the Eternal Stone Slate that had landed in Gawain’s hands, as well as details of himself being controlled by the heretic cult believer. Moreover, he had consciously reduced the criticality of the entire matter greatly. ——But despite doing so, the information revealed in the secret letter was still enough to terrify the old King.
Heretic cult believers who only dared to move in the dark had actually dared to directly invade an aristocrat’s abode!
Once upon a time, whether they had offered living humans in sacrificial ceremonies or used the remains of dead people for rituals, it wouldn’t really make the aristocrats nervous. It was because those deeds had been done to ‘lowly commoners’. Those heretic cult believers seemed to be very good at complying with the bottom line of the game and had never reached their hands into the aristocrat hierarchy, but now… things had changed.
It had to happen at such a time when relations between Anzu and the Typhon Empire was most tense. Initially, Francis II had slightly heaved a sigh of relief when he learned that the Typhon Empire would not start a war during this winter and believed that he could make use of this opportunity to further strengthen the border armaments to lay a good foundation for war. Yet now he suddenly felt that those heretic cult believers probably didn’t want him to have this margin.
Just as the old King had his brows knitted in anxiety, a genial and warm feeling suddenly filled the whole room.
He looked up in slight surprise and saw Veronica who was dressed in white priest robes walk into the room.
This ‘Saint Princess’ walked towards her own father with a smile and some coyness. “Father, I asked Lord Eden. He said you were still in the study.”
“Veronica, my daughter… Why are you here today?” Francis II looked at Veronica, slightly surprised. Although this daughter of his still retained her identity as a princess, she was an officially converted believer of the God of Holy Light. She spent most of her time in the Cathedral of the Holy Light and rarely returned to the Silver Castle.
“Have you forgotten? Today is the day I leave the cathedral and come to the castle to visit you,” Veronica said with a smile. She drew the emblem of the God of Holy Light before her chest. “While serving The Lord, we cannot forget to look after our parents. This is the doctrine of the Holy Light.”
“Look at this head of mine.” The old King could not help but tap his own forehead. “I got the day wrong!”
“It’s alright. The heavy load of the kingdom weighs on you. Your responsibilities as King ought to come first,” Veronica reassured; at the same time, she noticed Francis II’s exhausted look. She lifted her hand to summon a streak of Holy Light and used theurgies to relieve her father’s stress. “Father, has something happened?”
Francis II sighed. “Heretic cult believers, Oblivion Association, Eternal Sleepers, and small sects like the Black Stone Sect, Pursuers of the Abyss… No idea what came over them. Every one of them is starting to cause trouble in these days before winter.”
Upon hearing the three words ‘heretic cult believer’, as a devout believer of the Holy Light, Veronica immediately couldn’t resist frowning. “May the Holy Light be the salvation of those pitiful people assaulted by those thugs… Heretic cult believers are always spreading everywhere. Regrettably, other than the Church of Holy Light and Sect of the God of War, the theurgies of other sects are too powerless against the sorceries of those heretic cult believers.”
Francis sighed. “Don’t worry. Those followers of evil won’t dare to make trouble in the capital.”
Veronica glanced at those secret letters carrying special marks that came from all over the kingdom. She crossed her hands and placed them on her chest, sincerely saying, “The Holy Light will protect Anzu.”
