Chapter 65

Lately, the atmosphere among the noble faction had turned grim.

Just when things seemed to be going well, they lost the position of Chief of Court Office, and the Azure Knights were performing better than expected.

Naturally, this made the Red Knights’ accomplishments seem inferior by comparison.

Even to Duke Benerix, the Head of the Noble Faction, it looked that way—so how must it appear to the Emperor?

‘That slippery bastard.’

The man sitting on the throne—his own nephew—might act all jovial and harmless, but Duke Benerix knew well that he was anything but.

Using Chancellor Ameris’ fairness as a shield, the Emperor made it difficult for the noble faction to dominate imperial affairs.

Then he went and established his own private force, the “Azure Knights,” led by some fallen noble-turned-mercenary named Latine Modilac—someone who supposedly had no interest in politics.

But in the end, Duke Benerix had thought it was just a last, desperate flail.

After all, he had already united all the most powerful noble families in the Empire. The Emperor was no match for him.

That’s what he believed.

Up until just yesterday.

With the loss of the Chief of Court Office, and now even the position of Chancellor slipping out of reach, certain voices within the noble faction had started to question him.

How dare they. Yes, how dare they.

The Duke wiped his mouth with a napkin and finally spoke.

“I trust you know why I called you here.”

At those words, the two men froze in place as if their hands had turned to stone.

The Duke’s lips curled into a smile.

“Not only did we lose the court post, but now I hear the Azure Knights have overtaken us in their performance reports. How very…”

—Krrrkk.

The knife in his hand scraped sharply against the plate, the sound deadly and violent.

It was improper by noble dining etiquette—but no one dared say a word.

There was clear fury in his hand.

“—pathetic.”

The words that followed were practically verbal assault.

Yet Ryan Diepelt couldn’t even muster the nerve to swallow.

He had dared to hope—just a little—when the Duke, known for rarely showing his face to anyone but the most loyal, summoned him to dine.

The Red Knights had improved in performance lately.

But the Azure Knights were better. That was the problem.

As if to make the point, Duke Benerix pointed his fork directly at him.

“If you can’t outperform the Azure Knights, you’re useless to me.”

The word useless hit him like a spear to the chest.

“And being outdone by some low-born woman—there’s no greater humiliation.”

In the noble faction, where bloodlines were everything, being compared to a commoner was more insulting than being stabbed with a fork.

Ryan Diepelt’s face turned ghostly pale.

“I heard you and the Administration Bureau were planning something. When do you intend to act?”

“W-well, it’s still in preparation. I didn’t think the timing was right yet…”

“Preparation again… Always preparing.”

The Duke gave a dry laugh, like he had just heard a joke, then neatly dabbed his lips with a napkin.

“So tell me—when exactly is the right time? When I have to put my hand…”

Before he could finish, the fork in his hand flew through the air, grazing Ryan’s neck and embedding into the wall behind him.

It happened in a flash.

Ryan blinked in shock, only to feel a sting at his throat—then the warmth of blood trickling down.

The Duke stared at him with a cold smile.

“Now that you’ve seen blood… will that feel like the right time?”

He gazed at Ryan Diepelt with a gentle smile, one that made you forget he’d just thrown cutlery like a weapon.

“Pretending to be useful—putting on airs—means nothing to me. How disappointing.”

But his words were anything but gentle.

Then he dropped the smile from his face entirely.

“Show me some results. I don’t care if it’s out in the open or behind the scenes. I want something, and I want it soon. I, personally—!”

—SLAM!

The table shook under his fist, shattering the poised atmosphere.

His steel-gray hair trembled, and his blood-red eyes gleamed with fury.

Gone was the smiling noble—now he was a warlord, brimming with murderous intent.

“Show me you’re worth keeping alive!”

“Y-yes, my Lord!”

“If you lose the chancellorship…” He sneered. “Then I’ll use you two as examples of what I do with useless men.”

Their faces drained of color.

Duke Benerix rarely showed emotion—so the fact that he had lost his temper so severely meant one thing: This was their last warning.

Knowing this, the two men immediately began to act the moment dinner ended.

Ryan Diepelt, after much deliberation, secretly sent someone to contact people he normally wouldn’t even speak to.

Malik Bran, however, chose a different path.

***

Malik Bran returned from Duke Benerix’s estate with a face that looked years older.

‘I’ll rest for now… then figure something out. No—wait a minute.’

“What the hell?”

He had planned to drown himself in a drink and pass out for the night—but what greeted him was chaos.

A line of carriages crowded the front of his estate, and imperial investigators—agents of the Emperor—were rushing in and out.

Alarmed, he rushed inside to understand what was happening, only to be confronted by one of the investigators, who held up a document with a serious expression.

“This was found in your study. You’ve been keeping far more troops than what was reported to the capital. Care to explain?”

“Th-this is…!”

‘Everyone underreports their forces—’

But Malik couldn’t say it.

While he stammered, the investigator turned and shouted, “Search the rest of the house!”

The charges against him were growing.

He had been accused of deceiving the royal family, and things were escalating fast.

That particular crime—”royal deception”—was usually vague and flexible, applied to anyone who angered the imperial court.

But to have one’s house searched? That was rare, nearly unheard of—something that only happened if you insulted the Emperor to his face.

Why him, though?

Malik had a guess.

“I heard Duke Royden visited the palace recently.”

This had to be a deal—some secret trade-off behind closed doors.

Why else would Royden, who normally acted like the imperial family didn’t exist, suddenly go to the palace?

Right after that, his estate became ground zero?

It was all connected.

He clenched his fist—his anger exploding in the most convenient direction.

Of course.

“Right. That woman just needs to disappear.”

It was simple from the start.

Duke Benerix was furious because Ryan Diepelt couldn’t outperform that woman.

Which meant he couldn’t become Chancellor.

So the solution was obvious.

If she were to die in some unfortunate accident—

Yes, people die easily. If no one knew who did it, what did it matter?

Malik Bran’s face turned cold.

In the estate that had just been turned upside down by the Emperor’s men, he summoned his elite agents.