The dining hall fell silent for a moment.

Aurora and Murphy exchanged a brief glance.

Then, a gentle smile blossomed on Aurora’s face. "Sir Harold is coming? That’s wonderful. The Peric Clan are important friends and partners to the Monte Territory, and we have always looked forward to a deeper exchange."

Her smile deepened as she looked at Annie. "Annie, when your uncle arrives, you must make the proper introductions for us. Your time here at Monte Castle will be a perfect opportunity for him to see that you are well."

Annie curtsied slightly. "Thank you, my lady. I will."

Murphy’s expression remained unchanged. He simply gave a slight nod, his voice as steady as ever. "If Sir Harold comes, Monte Castle will naturally offer its hospitality. As for the specifics, it will not be too late to discuss them when the time comes."

...

A few days later, on a morning when the thin mist had not yet fully dissipated, a visitor arrived at Monte Castle.

Murphy was in his study reviewing the new quarterly production report for the dam’s workshop district when a clear bell chimed from outside the window. It was the signal from the castle gatehouse, used to announce the arrival of an important guest.

He lifted his eyes, his gaze shifting from the parchment scroll.

The bell tolled six times, signifying that the visitor was of no small importance.

Almost as soon as the bell’s echo began to fade, the sound of somewhat hurried footsteps came from outside the study door.

The old butler, Bernard, appeared at the door. His silver hair was impeccably combed, but his breathing was slightly faster than usual, a clear sign that he had walked briskly all the way there.

"My lord," Bernard said, panting slightly as he bowed with a hand to his chest. His voice carried a rare gravity, even more solemn than when he had announced Princess Elizabeth’s visit a few days prior. "Archbishop John of the Crescent District has just arrived at the main gate. He is accompanied by only four Defender Knights, but he requests to see you immediately."

Archbishop John.

The supreme leader of the Truth Church Court in the Northern Territory’s Crescent District, a man of venerable status and profound influence whose authority could, to a certain extent, even sway the decisions of Duke Douglas.

He was stationed year-round at the grand cathedral in the Crescent District and rarely left it. It was even rarer for him to personally visit a lord’s castle so abruptly, especially the castle of a lord who was not a traditional, fanatical supporter of the Church Court.

"Did the Archbishop state his purpose?" Murphy’s voice was calm and flat, betraying no emotion.

"He did not say explicitly, my lord," Bernard replied with a bow, his tone cautious. "The Archbishop only said that he has an urgent matter to discuss with you, Governor, in person, concerning ’the stability of the Northern Territory and the purity of the faith.’"

Murphy was silent for a moment.

The envoy from the Peric Clan of the Eastern Territory was still on the road, yet the highest representative of the Church Court in the Northern Territory had already arrived unannounced. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

It was hard to say there was no connection between the two.

Alonso’s declaration at Taymer Palace had indeed been like cold water thrown into boiling oil, instantly provoking the most direct reactions from all sides.

"Please show the Archbishop to the small reception room on the east side of the second floor," Murphy said, standing and straightening the front of his clothes with a calm, deliberate motion. "It is quieter there and more suitable for conversation. Inform my wife, but there is no need to disturb anyone else for now. Also, arrange a lounge for the Defender Knights. Be sure to attend to them thoroughly."

"Yes, my lord." Bernard immediately complied and turned, striding away quickly.

Murphy did not leave right away.

He walked to the window, his gaze directed toward the castle’s front courtyard.

Through the gradually dissipating mist, he could see a carriage, solemnly decorated and painted a holy white, parked beside the fountain.

On the body of the carriage, the Holy Emblem of Truth—a crescent embracing stars—was outlined in twin lines of gold and silver, shimmering with a subdued luster in the morning light.

The four large, powerful white horses pulling the carriage stood quietly, snorting occasionally.

Four Defender Knights, clad in silvery-white full Plate Armor with the same Holy Emblem engraved on their chests, stood like silent statues around the carriage.

A middle-aged man wearing the common White Robe of a Bishop and a Moonlight Stone Crown had already been led by a servant through the main doors of the keep.

Seeing the magnificent, sacred carriage and the man’s steady figure, a ripple stirred in the depths of Murphy’s memory.

This was not Archbishop John’s first time setting foot in this land.

Twelve years ago, this place was still called the Duval Territory. A young Margaret, on the orders of the Royal Family and the Church Court, had come as a special envoy to collect taxes for the border war.

Accompanying her was none other than John Elliott, who at the time was the Archbishop of the Crescent District’s grand cathedral, hailed as a rising star of the Church Court, and considered highly likely to be promoted to Cardinal in the future.

Back then, John had just turned forty. He was in his prime, his eyes filled with the light of keen ambition. His speech and demeanor held both the solemnity of the Clergy and the composure of a superior.

Murphy still remembered how Archbishop John had once rebuked Margaret: "Her Highness the Princess, to manipulate the will of others under the witness of the God of Truth... I’m afraid that goes against the teachings, does it not?"

At the time, Margaret had only said, "I know, I know," and though her response was perfunctory, she would never have dared to refute him.

However, twelve years had passed, and the world had changed.

Through her own ability and opportunities, Margaret had steadily climbed the ranks, eventually being named Duke Temeris and becoming a pivotal figure of real power in the Southern Kingdom.

Meanwhile, the high-spirited Archbishop who had been seen as a top candidate for a future Cardinal’s position still held his seat in the Crescent District. But his dream of the red robes of a Cardinal seemed not to have materialized in those twelve years. His power and influence, compared to the rapid ascent that had once been hoped for, had stagnated.

Murphy turned and left the study, walking with steady steps toward the small reception room on the east side of the second floor.

When he pushed open the reception room’s carved oak door, Archbishop John was already seated in an oak chair by the fireplace.

The fire had just been lit, chasing away the morning’s slight chill.

The Archbishop looked much older than he had twelve years ago. Frosty white now touched his temples.

Only his gray eyes remained as calm and sharp as ever.

"Good day, Your Excellency the Archbishop. May Oriane’s brilliance guide you." Murphy stopped just inside the door, crossing his hands over his chest to form the complete, standard gesture of the Crescent Embracing Stars Holy Emblem—a standard Church Court greeting. "Please forgive me for not meeting you at the gates. Your presence brings great honor to Monte Castle."

"Good day, Governor of Melfield. May Oriane’s protection always be with you." Archbishop John’s deep, magnetic voice returned the same blessing. "It is I who have come uninvited. I hope I have not disturbed your official duties."

His gaze lingered on Murphy’s face, as if reminiscing, and also as if scrutinizing. "It has been ten years since you last came to the Crescent District to report on your duties, has it not? I remember you had only recently taken up the post of Governor at the time."

"Your Excellency has a good memory." Murphy walked to the chair opposite the Archbishop and sat down. "It has indeed been ten years. I wonder, to what do I owe the honor of Your Excellency’s personal visit?"

He did not engage in further pleasantries, cutting directly to the point.

Given Archbishop John’s status and his unannounced arrival, any beating around the bush would be superfluous.

Archbishop John seemed to appreciate this directness. A flicker of imperceptible approval flashed in his gray eyes before his expression turned grave. "Your Excellency the Governor, you have only recently returned from Taymer Palace. I imagine you have a profound appreciation for the outrageous words spoken by that Marquis from Castile’s Tower of Secret Silver at the Duke’s daughter’s celebration."

Murphy’s expression was unchanged. "Yes, Your Excellency. The declaration by Marquis Alonso de la Torre was indeed shocking."

"More than just shocking, Your Excellency the Governor." Archbishop John shook his head gently. "It was blasphemy. A provocation. A public declaration of war against the order of the God of Truth. The Plane Waymark in the Iron Ridge Mountain Range must not be fully activated by those heretic Wizards, allowing the chaotic power of the New Realm to pollute our world. The Church Court will absolutely not stand by and do nothing."

His tone was not vehement, but every word carried immense weight, as if stating an indisputable fact.

"I have come here," the Archbishop’s gaze locked onto Murphy, his voice lowering yet becoming clearer, "on behalf of the Church Court, and on behalf of all the people of the Northern Territory who believe in the truth and protect order, to ask for a clear stance and support from the Monte Territory, and from you—the Governor of Melfield, Count O’Connor."