A Cadet Becomes a Prophet?! — Chapter 107

Chapter 107

Nothing‍‍ less than eleven‌‌ members of royalty⁠‌ and nobility had‍ been murdered.

An⁠‌ event that could‍‍ not, and should‍ not, be overlooked.

The‍‍ entire schedule of the Continental Conference,⁠⁠‍ the largest event‍ on the continent⁠ after the Empire’s‍⁠ Founding Day, was‌ suspended.

“Hail‍‍ the Duke!”

“Hail‍‌ the Duke!”

Aware‍‌ of the gravity‍⁠ of the matter, the lord of‌ Vienderk himself appeared‌ in Valerich, accompanied‍ by hundreds of⁠ troops.

Duke‌ Gransis Vienderk was⁠⁠⁠ a man of‍ imposing presence. His‍ face was completely‌ clean-shaven, and his‍‍⁠ eyes were sharp.⁠ His hair, slicked‌‍ back to reveal‍ his forehead, was⁠ the same dark blue as Rosalia’s,‌ and his deep‍‌ brown eyes made⁠ it impossible to‍ read his thoughts.⁠⁠

“I‌‍ deeply regret the⁠ unfortunate incident that‍‍ occurred here in‍ Valerich. Regarding this matter…”

In‍‌ a speech at the banquet hall,‌ he publicly declared‍ three points.

1. He would take‌‌ responsibility and find the culprit.

2.⁠‌⁠ The entire investigation⁠ process would be‍⁠ transparent.

3.‌ There would be‌ appropriate compensation for‍ the deceased.

It‌⁠‍ was the best‌ he could offer⁠ immediately. At the⁠⁠ same time, Vienderk’s‍‌ forces mobilized to⁠‍ track down the‍ killers.

After⁠⁠ calming public opinion, Duke Gransis’s next‌⁠ move was to⁠ visit a hotel.‍

“It’s⁠‌⁠ been a while,‍‌ Rosalia.”

Specifically,‍‍⁠ to see his‍ daughter, who was‍‍‍ staying there.

“It’s⁠ been a while,⁠⁠ Father.”

Rosalia‍ responded without emotion.⁠⁠⁠

“I⁠‌ heard you’ll be‌‌ presenting your research‌⁠ at the conference.”‍

“Yes.”‍

“What‍‍ happened must be⁠ a great inconvenience.”‍‌

“Yes.‍‌⁠ I just hope it’s resolved quickly‍ and the conference⁠‍ can proceed.”

“To meet those expectations,‍ we’ll have to‍‍ work even harder.”‌⁠‌

“Is that even possible?”⁠‌

In response to his daughter’s doubt, the‍‌ duke gave a faint smile.

“Seems‍‌ you’ve forgotten who‌⁠ I am after‌ spending so much‌ time away.”

“Eleven‍‌ people died.”

“Even‍ if twice that‌ number had died,⁠⁠ it would be⁠‍ no problem.”

“You‌ say that, but‍⁠ you’re furious.”

“They’re‌⁠ bastards who ruined‍ a Vienderk event.‌‍ As lord of‍ these lands, how‌‍ could I not‍ be furious?”

However,‍ he showed nothing‍‍ outwardly. Always calm,‌ yet with a hidden edge—that was⁠ Duke Gransis.

“I‌‍ have high hopes‍‌ for your presentation.”‍‍‌

“Is⁠‌ there a reason‍⁠ for that?”

“Because‍⁠‍ it will be Vienderk’s. I’ve also‍ waited for the‍ moment you’d honor⁠⁠ the family name.”⁠‍

Rosalia‌‌ only let out a sarcastic laugh.‌‌ The duke showed‌ no displeasure and⁠⁠ stood up.

“I‌‌‍ must go. Affairs are urgent and‍‍ I can’t indulge‌ in this reunion⁠‌ much, but once everything is over, we’ll meet again.”

After⁠‌‍ leaving Rosalia’s room,‍ the duke didn’t head outside, but⁠ to the adjacent‍‌ room.

Knock‍‌ knock—

The‍‌ door opened.

“Fernan⁠‌ Pellenberg.”

“…Greetings,‌ Your Grace.”

Fernan‌ bowed his head.⁠

“May‍ I come in‍ for a moment?”‍

“Of‍‍‍ course. It’s not⁠ a worthy place,‍ but please enter.”‍

“Wouldn’t⁠ that be admitting⁠‌ that Vienderk poorly manages its hotels?”‌

“I‍‍ didn’t mean it‍‌⁠ that way.”

“I was joking.”

The⁠ duke sat casually on the sofa.⁠

“Tea?”⁠⁠

“No need. I’ve heard⁠‌⁠ you took good‌ care of Rosalia.”⁠‌

“How‌ could I possibly⁠ care for the‍⁠ professor? If anything,‌ it was the‍ opposite.”

“Rosalia⁠‌⁠ isn’t someone who⁠‍‌ takes care of‌⁠‌ others.”

Fernan⁠ remained silent. It‍ was true, but‍ he couldn’t speak‌ ill of her‍ in front of‍ her father.

“I know you helped‍ a lot with⁠ her research. I’m⁠‌‌ grateful.”

“We‍ only helped each other because we‍⁠ both needed it.”‌

“And‍⁠ that makes it‌‍ all the more⁠⁠ valuable. You helped‌‌ her without expecting‍ anything in return.”‍⁠

Nothing‌⁠ in return? Fernan‌‌ sensed the choice‌ of words was‍‍‌ too deliberate to‌‍ be a mistake.‍

“It‍‌‌ was an investment.‌‌ No need for⁠ thanks.”

“Regardless‍⁠⁠ of the intention,‌⁠‍ as a father,‌ I must thank⁠‍ you for helping‌‍ my daughter. Ah,‌ you know something?‍‌ I had a younger brother.”

Of⁠‌‍ course, he knew.⁠

“As‌ a child, I adored him. He⁠ was so lovable,‌⁠ always following me‍ and asking to play. We were close.”

That brother, Owain Vienderk,‌ was fairly well⁠ known.

“If⁠ he wanted something,‍ I gave it⁠‍ to him. It⁠‍‌ didn’t bother me;‌⁠ he was my‌‌ only brother. I shared with him,‌ gave him what‌⁠ he asked for.”⁠⁠

“…”‍⁠

“But⁠‍ at some point,‌ he crossed the⁠ line.”

From‌ beloved little brother,⁠ he became a rival for the family headship.

“I‌‌ gave him one‍ and he asked⁠‍ for two, gave‌‍‍ two and he‍‍ wanted four. That⁠ I could still‍ bear. But when‌ four became eight,‍‍ and eight sixteen,‍ I couldn’t allow‌ it anymore.”

Now,⁠⁠ that brother lived‍ in ruin, under⁠⁠ the family’s strict‍‌‍ watch, as a defeated man.

“He didn’t know moderation.‍ Only then did I realize how‌‍ greedy he was.”‍

The duke looked at⁠ him with snake-like‍ eyes. After that,‌ he fell silent.‍ The silence weighed‍‍‌ on Fernan.

“I’ve‍ strayed. What I wanted to say⁠‌ is—yes, you probably‌ already know.”

The‍⁠ duke smiled.

“Rosalia’s research received an initial investment from‌ us.”

He⁠‌‌ gently touched Fernan’s⁠ shoulder and left,⁠⁠ followed by his guard.

“Remember⁠‍‌ it well.”

Duke‌ Gransis disappeared.

“…Does⁠ he take me‍‌ for an idiot?”⁠⁠

Fernan dropped onto the⁠⁠‍ sofa, letting out‍⁠ a dry laugh.‌‍

Bragging‌‍ about minimal early‍ support and using‌ it as an‍ excuse to claim‍‌‌ rights?

Only‍‌ Vienderk could pull‌⁠ something like that.⁠ A move Rosalia,‌ as a daughter⁠ of that house, couldn’t reject.

They‌ had the legitimacy‌‌ and, beyond that,‌‌ they weren’t afraid‍‍ of Pellenberg.

But that was mutual.‍

“How‍‍ ridiculous.”

Pellenberg‌‍ wasn’t afraid of Vienderk either.

The⁠ problem lay elsewhere.‌‍

“I‌ doubt that was⁠‌ the only reason…”‌‌

And‍ the duke knew‌ it too—he definitely‌ knew.

This was bait. The‌‌ question was what‍‌ he was really‌ after.

‘As‌‍ if I didn’t‍ already have enough‍ to worry about…‍ damn it.’

Fernan⁠ rubbed his temples.‍⁠

***‍‌

The‍ search for culprits‌‍‍ by Vienderk had‌ begun.

They⁠⁠ pointed to the‍ corrupt as those‌ responsible for what‌‌ had happened.

It‌‍ was an obvious‌‌ deduction.

No‌‍ one in the‍‍ Empire had any⁠‌ reason to cause‌ such chaos within‌ Vienderk’s territory.

The‌⁠‍ same applied to‌ the other kingdoms.‍‌ Among the dead,‍‌‍ there was no‍‍ common link except‍‌ for being nobles⁠‍ or members of‌ royalty.

It‍ had been an indiscriminate killing, and if it wasn’t‍‍ the work of⁠‌⁠ the corrupt, there‌ was no other‍ justification.

The‍‍ duke first ordered‌‍ an investigation into⁠ people close to⁠ the victims, as‍‍ well as tracking⁠⁠ their recent activities⁠⁠ and monitoring everyone⁠‌ they had come‌ into contact with.⁠

Since‍ some of the‍‍ victims were of‍ royal blood, the⁠‍ city hall building—where‌ the conference was‍ originally to be⁠‌ held—was transformed into‍ temporary lodging to confine them there.⁠‌

“What⁠‍ a situation…”

“We⁠‍‍ came to enjoy⁠ a festival and‌ ended up in‌⁠ this?”

“I‍⁠ came for business,‌ and now they’ve‌ got me detained.‍ Of course, we⁠‌ can’t exactly refuse‍⁠ to cooperate in⁠ a situation like⁠ this…”

“Vienderk‌⁠⁠ promised to compensate‌⁠ us for the⁠ lost time.”

“They‌ must regret it⁠‍ too. Of all‍⁠ times, the damned corrupt had to⁠‌ attack now.”

That’s⁠ how they gathered‌‌‌ around five hundred⁠⁠‌ people. Anyone who‌‌ could be even‌ slightly connected had‌ been dragged there.

Afterward,‍ the duke requested‌⁠ support from the‌‌‌ Cult of the‌ Dragon God, and‍ they accepted.

They didn’t have to look far—there were‍‍ already about a dozen priests present‌‌ for the continental‍ conference.

Just‌ before they intervened,‍ Fernan quietly approached.⁠

“It’s‍ been a while, young master Fernan.‌ I’ve heard our‌ saint owes you⁠⁠⁠ a great deal.”⁠

The‌ man leading the‍⁠⁠ priests was Cardinal‍‌ Gailand Pitra.

He⁠‍ had graying hair⁠‌‌ and beard, deep wrinkles, and a slightly hunched back.‌ At first glance,‌⁠ he looked like an ordinary old‍ man—except for his‍ gaze. His eyes⁠ fixed on Fernan with an almost sickly gleam.

Not just him—the pope‌‍ and much of‍⁠ the Cult treated⁠ Fernan with that‍ same reverence.

After⁠⁠ all, the Pellenbergs‌ were the Cult’s‌ greatest patrons and‌ clients.

“It has been a while, Cardinal Gailand.‌ Don’t say that—I’m⁠⁠ the one indebted to you. Though I didn’t expect⁠ you to come‍ in person.”

“The‍ continental conference is⁠‌⁠ the celebration of⁠‍ all magicians, don’t you think? I came to enjoy‍⁠ it as well,⁠‌ but I never imagined something like⁠ this would happen.”‍

“Not‍⁠ even the corrupt‌‌‍ expected it. Right‌ now, they must‍‍ be trembling.”

Fernan⁠ was relieved that‍ it was him‍‍ who had come.⁠

‘What⁠ a relief. If‌⁠ it had been‌ Cardinal Alby or⁠‌ Cardinal Bador, Aint⁠‌ might not have‍ had a chance‌⁠ to act.’

After‍⁠ all, everyone in⁠ the Cult was‌ a magic fanatic,⁠ and Gailand, as a cardinal, was‍⁠ far from weak.‍‌

But⁠‌ everything depended on⁠ perspective.

“And⁠⁠ what brings this up, young master?”‍

“I‌ heard Vienderk asked‌ the Cult for‌ help locating the⁠ corrupt.”

“That’s‌ correct.”

“Would‌ it be possible‍‌ for me to⁠ assist as well?”⁠⁠

“You?⁠ In the investigation?‌ But young master Fernan, you’re no‌ longer a suspect.”‌‌‍

“I wouldn’t go as⁠ a suspect. And‍‌ I wouldn’t go‌‍ alone—I’d like Aint⁠⁠‌ to be with me.”

The‍‌‌ cardinal’s expression changed.‌‍

“Young‍ Aint is here?”‍

“Yes.”‌⁠

“I’ve‍ heard much about‍ him from our‌ saint.”

He⁠ meant Jace.

“Really?”⁠

“Yes.⁠ He said, ‘Aint‍ Armian has regained considerable power; he⁠ could be the‍‌ central figure if‍ a war against‍ the demons breaks‌ out.’”

Gailand‍ nodded.

“Very‍ well. I don’t⁠‍ know what you’re‌ planning, but if‌‌‌ the saint spoke⁠ so highly of‍⁠ him, Aint will⁠‌ be of great⁠‌ help in locating‌ the corrupt.”

“Thank‍⁠ you for accepting‌ such a bold⁠⁠ request.”

“Besides,‍‍ I suppose you‍ won’t put us‍⁠‍ in a difficult‍‌ position, right?”

“Of⁠⁠‌ course not.”

The⁠ cardinal smiled slyly‍⁠ and added.

“Although, truthfully, even if‍ you do cause‍ some trouble, it‍‍⁠ doesn’t really matter.‍⁠ I know you’ll‍ compensate any loss⁠ many times over,‌ right?”

‘Greedy‌ leeches—and they still‌⁠ say they don’t‍ know what I’m‍ after.’

Inwardly,⁠‌ Fernan muttered curses,‍‍ but outwardly, he‍ returned a polite‍‌ smile.

“Of‍ course. After all,‌‍ we’re old friends.”‌

And⁠‌ among friends, there‍‍ shouldn’t be any‌ distinction between what’s⁠‌ yours and what’s‍‍‍ mine.

‘Sorry,‍‍ but the credit‍ for catching the‌ corrupt won’t go‌‍⁠ to the Cult—it’ll‌⁠ go to Aint Armian.’

‘The⁠ worst-case scenario is‌⁠⁠ that the corrupt‍ have already escaped the city…’

Even‌‌‍ though Vienderk’s soldiers‌⁠ were checking entry and exit logs‌‍ and tracking anyone⁠ who had left⁠ the city up‍ to three days⁠‌ before the attack,‍ any makeshift perimeter‍‌ would still have‍⁠‌ holes.

‘For‌ now, I can⁠ only trust Vienderk.’

Among⁠ those detained, at⁠ least one corrupt‌ had to be‌ there.

‘Just one. As long‍‍ as you find⁠ even one, Aint…’⁠‌‍

Then‍ Fernan could deliberately‍⁠⁠ turn him into⁠‌⁠ a hero.

The‌⁠ rise of Armian‌ was just beginning.⁠‍‌

And‌ the parasites who‍⁠ wanted to suck⁠⁠ gold from that⁠ rise, let them—at the end of‌‍ the day, that’s⁠ all they’d be.‌