When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist-Chapter 615 - 578: Blessed and Rune Artisan

"What should I say when I meet Lord Lorenzo?" In the summer palace of the King of Falan, Gigano uneasily tugged at his rented, expensive suit, whispering to the attendant waiting with him.

The attendant was a noble youth dressed in a red and blue, wide-sleeved, narrow-bodied outfit, with red lips and white teeth, bangs reaching the eyebrows, and thick, long hair draping to the shoulders like a helmet—a fashionable hairstyle among young Falan nobility.

He glanced up and down at Gigano, a hint of disdain in his eyes: "Just mind your manners; better too much than too little. Just remember this: treat Lord Lorenzo as if he's the vice king."

Gigano nodded, somewhat understanding, straightened his body, squinted his eyes, repeatedly going over the court etiquette he had hastily learned in his mind.

"Creak—"

The oak door, studded with decorative nails, was pushed open, and a young monk with a Paul-style Mediterranean haircut peeked half his head out from behind the door: "Lord Lorenzo is available now; you can come in."

"Alright." Gigano took a deep breath, hastily tidied his clothes, and stepped into the small study.

If not told otherwise, no one would believe that this little room at the end of the corridor in the summer palace was the office of the espionage leader and Prime Minister, Lorenzo.

Lorenzo, standing in front of the bookshelf, was a lean, middle-aged man, grey at the temples, with his curly hair ends tied with a black ribbon and resting on his shoulder.

He wore a brocade vest with intricate floral patterns, and a pair of round-framed crystal tortoiseshell glasses perched on his nose.

He kept his head down, reading the intelligence in his hand by the morning light from the window.

"Strong rhetoric, but overly ambitious." Placing the declaration adapted from Horn's speech into a book, Lorenzo sat behind the desk.

Through the round-framed glasses, Lorenzo glanced at Gigano, who stood there frozen, mouthing silently, unable to speak, and pointed to the chair beside him.

"Please have a seat, my friend."

Frozen in front of Lorenzo, Gigano forgot all the court etiquette, sat down with a flushed and annoyed face, and apologized in a shaky voice: "Sorry for my rudeness, my lord Prime Minister."

This black-robed Prime Minister was an advisor for two terms, holding great power for twenty years. Even the newly empowered King was not as influential as this Prime Minister.

More nobles and wealthy merchants had been imprisoned and executed or exiled by this Prime Minister than the so-called Holy Grandson Horn had killed in Langsande County.

"Have you met that Horn?"

Compared to the fast-paced and vaguely lazy pronunciation common to Falan people, this black-clothed Prime Minister spoke slowly yet forcefully, with every syllable pronounced clearly.

"I have, my lord Prime Minister." 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

"What kind of person do you think he is? Speak freely, do not worry about anything else; I want to hear your opinion."

Gigano licked his lips and wiped the sweat from his face with a handkerchief: "He is quite ordinary, with a farmer's appearance, a farmer's build, neither a heroic figure nor elegant in demeanor, but he is very smart and hardworking. He can work from morning till night and has specifically set up a group of guards and spies to supervise others' work."

At this point, Gigano glanced at Lorenzo, this Prime Minister and bishop who also had a group of spies monitoring the nobles and bureaucrats.

Lorenzo seemed to know everything, hence being called the "Thousand-threaded Spider." His dense web of intelligence covered all corners, knowing everything clearly.

"He is strange; he often claims to be the Grandson of the Holy Father, not the Son of the Saint Master, because the Saint Master is a virgin goddess. But on the other hand, he gives me a sense of disrespect for the Gods, often saying profane words.

Yet he is a farmer with an innate genius for military command and governance, managing Langsande County meticulously with a group of unclear-minded monks and defeating Prince Kongdai with a group of cowardly farmers."

After listening to Gigano's account, Lorenzo gently tapped his fingers on the table, seemingly in deep thought.

Gigano dared not interrupt and just sat there motionless.

"Thierry!" Stopping the tapping on the table, Lorenzo called towards the door.

The same helmet-haired young noble peeked his head from behind the door: "You called me, my lord?"

"Mr. Thierry, could you please bring over the white sugar."

"Certainly, Lord Lorenzo."

Shortly after, a golden-inlaid silver tray was brought over, with a pile of pale-yellow crystals, tested for poison, in the center. Lorenzo scooped a spoonful with a white porcelain teaspoon and dropped it into his tea.

Sipping the tea, he asked, "Did you personally see them making this sugar?"

"Yes, they use alchemy in large-scale production, not afraid of us imitating them," Gigano said with a bitter smile. "Black Snake Bay and the Salvation Army seem to be on good terms, having brought in a large number of alchemists for them."

"Black Snake Bay's alchemists have not been mobilized on a large scale." Sipping his tea, Lorenzo dismissed Gigano's claim.

Gigano was taken aback, instinctively wanting to argue but held back.

Although alchemists were common in Black Snake Bay, it didn't mean they were common elsewhere. In the Thousand River Valley, with a population of four to five million, having two hundred alchemists and witch doctors was already quite good.

"I've heard they have a group called the Blessed?"

"Yes, my lord," Gigano nodded in response. "But they are essentially alchemists with a different facade, numbering no less than a thousand."

"Do you know how these Blessed appeared?"

Gigano awkwardly shook his head: "I don't know. Most of the Blessed have military backgrounds; our people cannot infiltrate, and some were even captured by their Cheka."

Lorenzo said nothing, staring directly into Gigano's eyes.

Although he was speaking honestly, Lorenzo didn't say much more, yet an intangible sense of oppression still lingered in the room.

Cold sweat continued dripping from his forehead, and Gigano's handkerchief became soaked.

However, fortunately, the black-robed Prime Minister did not maintain this state for long. He picked up a bone china saucer, holding a gilt-edged red teacup, and moved to the window: "In some time, someone will contact you with higher authority. As the interim representative of the Royal Trading Company in the Thousand River Valley, use this position to uncover the secret of their mass production of alchemists."

Although he didn't understand why Lorenzo was so convinced the Salvation Army could mass-produce alchemists, the surprise of being the Royal Trading Company's representative still landed solidly on Gigano's head.

What does it mean to be a regional representative of the Royal Trading Company?

Although the Thousand River Valley is a new area, and he is an interim representative among others, it still signifies boundless prospects.

With this representation, it means he is part of the royal inner circle, already halfway into the new noble society of Huaqiu City, no longer an ordinary merchant.

In Falan's circle of power, power and wealth are interchangeable, and those who cling solely to power or wealth will be besieged by the new nobility who seize both.

"I will not let you down," Gigano stood abruptly, performing a deliberate mechanical chest salute.

Until Gigano was escorted away by Thierry, Lorenzo did not inquire about the sugar trade's profits or economic issues.

The Great France Kingdom is vast and resource-rich.

What profits can come from such a small Thousand River Valley, situated in the economically backward Leia Kingdom?

But even if it means losing some money, Lorenzo could accept it.

He just wants to figure out one thing: where do they get so many alchemists.

All the Holy Path factions, clockwork guns, and sugar trade are irrelevant; that's the real question.

With a teacup saucer in his left hand, Lorenzo took a thick notebook from a dust-laden bookshelf, skillfully flipping to a page with one hand, and gazed at the table of contents.

From the "Noble Glory Act" to the "Royal Constitution Knight Memorandum," from "Clemens Civil Law" to "Maritime Act," his gaze finally settled on the mid-lower position, the "Rune Artisan Legalization Act."

With the gilt-edged white porcelain teacup in hand, Lorenzo moved to the glass window.

Watching the black smoke rise from the Old Bridge District, he gently blew the smoke from his tea cup and gazed intently.

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