Chapter 120: This One’s from
The door to the training room closed behind him, shutting out the sounds of colliding equipnt and the sll of sweat.
The corridor was quiet, holding only Ryan’s own footsteps and his slightly heavy breathing. The evening wind slipped in through the window at the far end, carrying with it the scent of grass and late-blooming cherry blossoms from the courtyard. It brushed across the sweat-damp skin of his neck in a cool, silken touch.
He had just finished the final endurance bout of the day. Barton had tossed out a casual, “Extra training tomorrow,” and left, abandoning Ryan to wash up and change on his own.
The cold water rinsed away the fatigue. His muscles were still faintly warm, but his mind was unusually clear, already sorting through the Elven rune notes he intended to continue organizing that evening.
When he pushed open the dormitory door, the familiar warmth of the room greeted him. He pulled off the coat still carrying the sll of sweat and casually draped it over the back of a chair. Underneath, he wore only a thin linen shirt, the collar left open without much care.
At that mont, there ca a knock at the door.
Cosette hurried over to answer it, then froze on the threshold.
Ryan turned his head and saw Princess Cecilia standing outside. She was still wearing her academy uniform, and under the corridor lamps her pale golden hair looked like flowing honey.
“Ryan, pardon the interruption,” Cecilia said. Her voice was calm, giving away nothing.
Ryan gave a slight nod and stepped aside to let her in.
Cosette, a little flustered, hastily went to pour water.
Cecilia walked naturally to the small round table and sat down. Her gaze skimd over Ryan’s damp hair and the open collar of his shirt, but did not linger.
“There has been a final ruling regarding the case involving the Garcia and Wood families.” She skipped all pleasantries and went straight to the point. “Both houses have been confiscated, and the principal offenders have already been executed. His Majesty also heard about your wager.”
Ryan sat down across from her, his gray-blue eyes resting on her as he waited for her to continue.
“…His Majesty considers that you rendered distinguished service in this matter and showed admirable courage.” After briefly recounting the general process, Cecilia lightly stroked the smooth wall of her teacup with her fingertips. “The ruling is that the Imperial Treasury will compensate you with ten thousand gold coins. In addition…”
She lifted her icy blue eyes and t Ryan’s gaze directly.
“Part of the adjoining lands confiscated from those two houses will be placed under the governance of the Velt family, with the tax revenues offsetting the remainder of the wager. The docunts for the territory will be sent directly to the north and delivered to your father, Viscount William Velt.”
When the words fell, the room went quiet for several seconds.
Ryan’s brow furrowed slightly.
Territory… granted to the family?
That was absolutely not the result he had wanted.
After transmigrating into this world, what he had inherited was not rely this body, but also all the festering debts tied to that so-called family.
That father of his in na had never once regarded him as a true son. More than that, he might even harbor darker intentions.
To Ryan, the family had never been a shelter from the storm. It was far more like a shackle dragging at his ankle, a past he had to break free from.
When he worked with Cecilia, the circle he counted as his own had contained only Cosette, who followed him step by step. It had never once included the Velt family far away in the north.
Sooner or later, he would sever all ties with that house completely.
Just not yet.
At present, his wings were not yet fully grown.
Strength, resources, influence—none of those were yet enough to support a clean and final break.
His original plan had been perfectly clear. Through Cecilia’s line, he would first secure his footing at the academy, quietly accumulate power, and develop in secret. As for the rotten ss in the north, he had intended to let it rot at the edge of the sky, far from his sight, far from his concern.
But now, with this single imperial ruling, it was as though a rough hemp rope had been thrown around him and forcibly tied him once more to the place he most wanted to escape.
What should have fallen neatly into his own pocket as ten thousand gold coins had instead beco two pieces of burning territory, dropped into his father’s hands.
That was no different from throwing a stone directly into the road Ryan had painstakingly planned, and then pointing him toward the very muddy pit he most wanted to avoid—the family mire.
Cecilia’s perception was far too sharp not to catch the fleeting darkness in his eyes.
She drew in a quiet breath. In those icy blue eyes of hers appeared a look of understanding, as though she had already expected exactly this reaction from him.
“On the surface, that is how it stands,” she said, lowering her voice slightly. “But I have heard sothing else. Those two viscounts had already lost their minds by the ti they were delivered to the capital. The official report claid that they resisted violently during arrest, and that certain special asures were used… leaving behind a few aftereffects. Perfectly normal, apparently.”
Her fingertips tapped lightly against the smooth tabletop.
“Marquis Wilier moved a little too quickly this ti, enough to invite thought. It almost looked as though he was afraid they might regain their senses on the road and say sothing they were not supposed to say.”
Ryan lifted his eyes and t hers.
The young Princess sat upright, her pale golden hair flowing with a soft luster beneath the lamplight. Her face still carried that calm, unreadable composure, but deep inside those icy blue eyes, a sharp light flashed for an instant.
He understood.
“Violent resistance” and “special asures” were nothing more than a fig leaf.
Marquis Wilier had seized them first not out of loyal concern for the Empire, but to silence them—or at the very least to ensure that the true master behind the northern smuggling network, naly himself, would not have his secrets spill out through those two discarded pawns.
The Emperor’s choice not to investigate further might not be because he did not want to, but because for the mont, he could not move against this great noble who held military authority in the north and guarded the frontier against the Orcs.
“So that is how it is,” Ryan said softly.
Seeing that he understood, Cecilia did not dwell on the matter further, but shifted to the more troubleso part.
“As for the lands being placed under your father’s na… that is His Majesty’s balancing strategy. Marquis Wilier’s roots run too deep in the north. His Majesty needs to place a few pieces there that will not sit completely still. Your Velt family is suitable. It has roots in the north, and because of certain… reasons, it is not especially close to Wilier’s faction. This move is ant to stir the northern situation. It is just that… the piece selected happens to be your father.”
At this point, most of the political calculation on the board had already been laid bare.
The Emperor wanted to check the Marquis, and for that he needed a family with reason to stand in the north, yet one that might not be entirely obedient.
The Velt family had been chosen, even if one of its heirs would have preferred to stay as far away from the board as possible.
Ryan’s poor relationship with his family was perhaps sothing the upper levels had also heard of, but that did not stop them from setting the piece in place.
Ryan fell silent for a mont.
On the table lay the Imperial Settlent Card Cecilia had taken out afterward, its edges inlaid with violet crystal, throwing back a cold glint.
He reached out and picked it up.
The card felt cold and heavy in his hand, as if it carried a weight far more complicated than ten thousand gold coins alone.
Then Cecilia drew out another card from the opposite pocket. It was nearly identical, except that the crystal set into its edge was a deep and lucid blue. She gently pushed it across the table toward him.
“This one,” she said, a mischievous ripple surfacing in her icy blue eyes, “is from personally. The original wager was for twenty thousand. His Majesty only awarded ten. The missing half—I’ll make up for it.”
The quality of this Blue Crystal Card was obviously superior. A faint glow moved within it, and the material itself seed to include rare magical tal. Even within the Empire, it was an exceptionally uncommon item.
User Comments
0 comments from readers