Though the May Wind had been polluted, it at least proved the existence of the New Continent.
This Ocean Overlord imdiately exerted pressure, leaving other forces struggling to fight back.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that although the Right to Protect currently only pertained to religious affairs, the mont one gained authority over Church appointnts, law enforcent, and taxation, every colony of all nations would instantly have a supre ruler above them.
Wouldn’t it be easy for the Kingdom of Castile, through the layman priests they controlled, to interfere with other ecclesiastical states?
As the bottom line receded step by step, wouldn’t it eventually evolve into a winner-takes-all scenario, with soone casually drawing a Church ridian, directly partitioning the whole world?
The string in Byron’s mind, which had never slackened, imdiately tensed up again.
He quickened his pace subconsciously.
"There’s no ti to lose.
I must implent the plan to steal ho and replace the Newman Family, becoming the de facto ruler of the Royal Port before the first echelon returns.
Only with such a status would I qualify to sit at the table with major powers on behalf of the Kingdom of Hightins, to compete for the Right to Protect, which was akin to having a supre ruler.
Especially since I have the Torrent Fortress built amidst the native city-states—a fortress with a great secret—wouldn’t that place be easily accessible to those guys?
I must prepare in advance, at the very least, to ensure that the forces under my command enjoy independent sovereignty."
When he ca to his senses, he was already at the doorstep of the Governor’s Mansion in the Royal Port, accompanied by the Berserker Eight Fingers and Gus of Phantom Blade.
Looking up at the Brass Naplate inscribed with "Newman" on the marble doorpost, he thought to himself:
Today should be the last ti I co here as a guest.
He stepped through the gate and followed the butler into the depths of the Governor’s Mansion.
Yet, before they could reach the parlor, where the lights had already been lit,
BANG!
A gunshot suddenly shattered the quiet of the night, followed by the crisp sound of porcelain shattering and the heavy thud of a body hitting the ground.
"Sothing’s wrong, Captain, be careful!"
Hearing the commotion, Eight Fingers and Gus imdiately shielded Byron, one on each side.
A fierce aura, like that of seasoned killers, burst from them, making the leading butler’s hair stand on end.
It seed as if in the next mont, he would be hacked to death by their axes. Cursing internally that The Sea Hunter’s subordinates were all as frightening as their leader, gathered together like a constellation of grim reapers, he hurriedly called out,
"Misunderstanding, misunderstanding, there are no enemies! It was His Excellency the Governor who fired the gun."
Byron’s heightened sensitivity to the atmosphere, even through a door, allowed him to easily discern what had occurred inside. He instructed the two n,
"Put away your weapons. No one in the Royal Port can ambush us."
"Yes, Captain."
Eight Fingers and Gus, who had unconditional trust in their Captain, imdiately sheathed their weapons upon his command.
The doors to the parlor were then opened from the inside, and two servants with numb expressions ca out, carrying the Corpse of a maid.
A spreading bloodstain on the Corpse’s chest continued to drip to the floor.
The amount of bleeding suggested that her chest had likely been blasted into a honeycomb with a Scatter Bomb.
Another maid behind them, forcefully suppressing the fear in her heart, was cleaning up the valuable porcelain shards and a pool of blood with a cloth.
Even though Byron had only glimpsed the aftermath, he could guess that the incident stemd from sothing trivial, such as the maid spilling tea or breaking porcelain.
And just for that, a young girl in the bloom of youth had paid with her life.
Although Byron’s hands were also bloodstained, his creed had always been, "When the brave are enraged, they draw their swords against the stronger."
He had always looked down upon and could never abide by the cowardly act of "When cowards are enraged, they draw their swords against the weaker."
The butler who led him in, already accustod to such sights, whispered a reminder,
"Sir, the Governor and His Excellency the General have not been in a very good mood lately. Please be careful."
The butler was not exactly a good person. It was purely because the younger generation of the Newman Family was withering, and anyone with clear sight knew that in the future, those likely to be in charge of this household were probably the son-in-law, "Executioner" Bill, and his close associate, The Sea Hunter.
Small fry have their own rules for survival; they may not know how to set sail, but they are most adept at sailing with the wind.
In the parlor, Governor Newman, who had just killed soone, also heard the commotion outside and snorted coldly,
"Is that Byron? Let him in."
Byron showed no fear, instructing his two n to wait outside as he strode into the parlor.
He saw the obviously haggard Newman brothers, as well as their right-hand n: the Chief Accountant of the Governor’s Mansion, Ivan Derrick, and the Navy’s Chief Quartermaster, Mallory Barton.
Governor Jefferson Newman, seeing Byron co in, casually tossed aside the large-caliber Firearm in his hand, tugged at his collar, his bloodshot eyes resembling those of a wild Beast ready to devour soone.
Just as the butler had said, the Newman brothers had not been in very good spirits lately.
Ever since Byron had broken through to the Third Order, the Newman Family had been on a streak of bad luck.
First, the Blood Frenzy disaster ravaged the Bantaan Archipelago.
Their family had high hopes for the Navigator Buck, who was crushed on the spot by the octopus Warship simply for obstructing the progress of the May Wind.
The Newman Family had thought that once Buck, as the Navigator, discovered the New Continent alongside the Dual Pistols Ranger, he might imdiately reach the Third Order and beco the family’s mainstay.
Unfortunately, a single "Musketeer" path was unlucky enough, let alone dual pistols; it was hardly surprising Byron’s abilities had flexed their might.
Losing a son was a minor matter.
The critical issue was that, due to the Blood Frenzy disaster, the colony’s rchant ships encountered obstacles on their return trip. They had embezzled a vast sum but failed to tily distribute the Royal Family’s and Royalist Party nobles’ deserved share.
This was a clear disregard for the established protocols.
Regardless of their reasons, even if they had to borrow from others or take out usurious loans from the Remit People, they should have paid the nobles’ share first.
Keep in mind the Tax Officers sent by Earl Warwick had been wiped out by them, which was a public slap in the face.
This had made the powerful Earl a laughing stock among the higher echelons of the holand.
Earl Warwick was not a reasonable man; he could send assassins at any ti to physically eradicate the Newman Family.
Even at this mont, his spies were likely secretly watching everything happening in the Royal Port.
Especially since the higher-ups of the Royalist Party had already given the Newman Family their final ultimatum: if they failed to achieve more, they would be abandoned.
Once the Royalist Party backed off, with no one to help them withstand the pressure from The Kingmaker, they could lose their heads at any minute.
Every ti they thought about this, the two brothers felt that every person before them looked like a cunning assassin with a thieving gaze, eyeing their heads.
They were constantly on the verge of an outburst.
During this period, due to various trivial matters, they had already killed seven or eight slaves and servants in the Governor’s Mansion, creating a climate of fear for everyone.
They feared Death, feared that everything they had worked so hard to obtain could disappear into thin air.
Facing the current situation, they were desperate for any sign of progress!
The only chance to achieve sothing significant and win the favor of Edward IV remained elusive. How could they not be enraged?
They had even forgotten the inscrutable "signal flare explosion case" Byron had orchestrated long ago.
Governor Jefferson Newman, his eyes flashing red, opened with a furious accusation,
"Byron Tudor, you have repeatedly missed crucial opportunities in battle! Do you really think I won’t drag you before a military court?!"
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