Ackman impatiently waved his hand, ready to have the soldiers drag this eyesore of a pest out.
Morkan hurriedly revealed his last trump card, his voice almost trembling, yet he struggled to maintain the decorum expected of nobility:
"Lord Ackman... The Red Tide Lord, Lord Louis Calvin, has entrusted to present you with a handwritten letter. If you would deign to read it, you will understand its profound implications."
Ackman’s brow twitched; it seems Louis isn’t as foolish as he thought.
The envelope was torn open directly, and he began to read word for word.
The flickering firelight from the hearth cast shadows on his gradually darkening face.
Ackman scanned the first line, and the veins on his temple imdiately bulged.
"To the Seventeenth Legion—Interim Overseer Ackman."
Interim Overseer, neither "Commander" nor "Your Excellency."
It was a temporary title seldom used even in Imperial administrative docunts, laced with contempt.
Ackman’s low chuckle was deep and dangerous.
He continued to read, the wording of the letter almost unerringly struck every note of noble humiliation:
"It has co to my astonishnt that your subordinates have acted erratically of late, like uncultured prairie dogs, even plundering noble caravans, sullying the honor of the Imperial Army."
This conduct constitutes treason. In consideration of your humble origins and ignorance of proper decorum, I have specially dispatched Baron Morkan to educate you in these matters.
You are to return all materials within three days and kneel in Frost Halberd City to receive thirty lashes. I may then consider not indicting your head in the Dragon Throne assembly."
The signature declaration seed to assert so form of dominion: Count of Red Tide, Acting Governor of the Northern Territory—Louis Calvin
While reading the letter, the room was deathly silent.
Suddenly, Ackman burst into laughter, his laughter rough and wild, like chains grinding on the ground: "Hahaha... Louis! Louis! You genius!"
He laughed so hard that tears almost ca out, but within his smile hid a smoldering intent to kill.
Morkan saw him laugh, thinking the situation had taken a turn, and quickly gave a nervous laugh: "The Commander is right, Lord Louis’s words are always... very reasonable... Then my goods..."
The laughter abruptly ceased.
Ackman’s gaze turned instantly cold as ice: "Teach decorum? You bring this letter to humiliate ?"
"Wha-what...?" Morkan’s face turned pale, unable to react in ti.
Ackman’s sword drawing was swift as lightning.
A flash of cold light, blood splattered over the "Northern Defensive Pact."
Morkan’s head rolled to the ground, his face still maintaining a sycophantic smile, as if still hoping for a rcy that didn’t exist before death.
Ackman looked at the ludicrous head and whispered, "This, is your sincerity to ."
He kicked the head fiercely away: "Very well, I’ll accept it, and with your life, I’ll embark on my path to Dukeness."
......
Ackman, wielding a blood-stained sword, took large strides out of the secret chamber.
The outer area was crowded with his trusted officers.
Seeing the bloodstains on him, they all held their breath in unison.
Ackman slamd the letter onto the table with a voice like a battle drum’s explosion:
"Look carefully! The Red Tide Lord, Louis Calvin, colludes with smugglers, threatens the Imperial garrison, and attempts to divide the Northern Territory! This is a provocation against the Empire, against all our legions!"
The trusted officers exchanged looks, no one daring to question, yet all understood Ackman’s intent.
Ackman raised his sword, the bloody light reflecting on his face making him appear both mad and exhilarated: "This letter is a declaration of war from him! And our ticket into the circle of nobility!
Imdiately send word to Sol of the Iron Wall from the Fourteenth Legion and the Mad Dog Bart from the Seventh Legion! Tell them... Louis has made his move!
Let them choose for themselves, whether to remain as watchdogs or co to partake in this feast of at!"
The officers were aroused and departed, excitedly carrying out orders.
Finally, only Ackman was left standing by the window.
The wind and snow beat against the thick glass, like whispers from afar.
He looked northward towards Frost Halberd City, where all the Northern Territory nobility gathered.
His eyes burned with the light of a predator.
"Heaven-sent opportunity, once I take Frost Halberd City, I’ll seize the chance to capture all those eting nobles in one sweep... Heh...
No matter who becos Emperor in the Imperial Capital, they would have to beseech to ennoble as a hereditary Duke!"
Behind him, two soldiers dragged Morkan’s headless corpse across the floor, the bloodstains glaring like a crimson road extending towards Frost Halberd City.
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