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Chapter 164: The Divine Promise
🕑 Added 2025-01-13 02:49:35 +0000 UTCAfter bidding farewell to his elder brother and sister-in-law, Charlot Mecklenburg made a decision to evacuate Mostar Castle that very afternoon. He had a foreboding that if he stayed any longer, trouble would surely arise.
Mostar Castle was now devoid of both the duke and the duchess. Grand Duke Ferdinand and his wife had no children who had reached adulthood, and it was rumored that Duke Joseph and his wife had a daughter studying anonymously at some university.
Charlot did not believe that this unnamed noble girl could inherit the Behemoth Principality.
The Empire's intentions were evident—it sought to transform the Behemoth Principality into an imperial prefecture directly governed by officials, similar to what had happened with Silver Dove Castle. Instead of allowing Baron Feller's relatives to inherit, an outsider like Baron Febollet was appointed.
The Empire's regional governance was divided into imperial prefectures, autonomous territories, noble estates, overseas territories, and vassal states.
As an empire, the more directly governed prefectures, the better. Autonomous territories and noble estates, which tended to disobey orders, were best minimized. However, the Empire itself was ruled by grand nobles, and the needs of the Empire often conflicted with those of its administrators.
At Charlot's command, the West Wind Knight Order immediately sprang into action. Charlot's reputation had soared after leading his troops to several victories. Regardless of the various backgrounds of the knights, they were all willing to follow his orders.
Charlot's destination remained Machubi. He had no other place to go.
As Charlot was organizing the troops to depart, High Priest Auguslatin descended from the sky. Despite having just experienced a battle, the High Priest appeared unruffled, his robes uncreased and pristine.
Charlot bowed respectfully while wondering, "Could it be that someone in my West Wind Knight Order has caught the High Priest’s attention? He’s stopping us so openly—this young fellow must have quite the charm!"
The High Priest declined Charlot’s invitation to ride in a military carriage. Instead, with a faint smile, he asked, “Mr. Mecklenburg, do you know why Hughes withdrew his forces?”
Charlot shook his head. “I do not.”
The High Priest explained indifferently, “Because the conflict between Byron and us has reached a fever pitch. Over fifty thousand troops from each side have been committed to Ferranden. Each side has also deployed at least ten Saint-rank warriors, as well as dozens of high-ranking transcendent fighters. The casualties are mounting, and both empires are mobilizing reinforcements to send to Ferranden.”
Charlot was startled. Saint-rank individuals, who could easily annihilate entire armies, had been deployed in such numbers? Moreover, dozens of high-ranking transcendent fighters? These were not ordinary commodities. Even combining the forces of the Behemoth Principality and the South Seraph territories, they probably wouldn’t have more than ten high-ranking transcendent fighters.
Charlot asked, “What counsel does the High Priest offer?”
The High Priest replied, “You have three or four options. For instance, you could go to Ferranden, though I strongly advise against it. Another option is to stay in the Behemoth Principality, but you may not outmaneuver Baron Febollet, and you would lose opportunities to achieve great deeds. Alternatively…”
“Serve as an envoy to the Ingrima Empire.”
Charlot was puzzled and asked softly, “Do I hold a high enough rank to undertake such a mission?”
The High Priest chuckled. “No, your official rank is indeed insufficient for the Fars Empire to appoint you as an ambassador to the Ingrima Empire. However, as my deputy, you are more than qualified.”
Charlot's eyes lit up. “I am willing to serve at the High Priest’s command and handle any minor tasks.”
The brutality of war made the opportunity to leave the battlefield an irresistible offer for Charlot.
Nonetheless, he hesitated and cautiously asked, “Would the West Wind Knight Order accompany us as an escort?”
The High Priest shook his head. “The envoy party does not require so many people. You may bring up to fifty individuals. Strasbourg will also send another contingent. We will rendezvous in Strasbourg before departing.”
Charlot hesitated briefly. He was reluctant to part with the West Wind Knight Order. Though it couldn’t be called the strongest force under heaven, it was a solid foundation he had painstakingly built. It even included a few transcendent fighters. Every transmigrator harbored dreams, and the West Wind Knight Order was the seed of Charlot’s ambitions.
The High Priest seemed to read his mind and said with a smile, “Your West Wind Knight Order has two choices: you could hand it over to Baron Febollet…”
“Enough. I know you’ll refuse.”
“Then the other choice is to station it in Cappadocia.”
Charlot, a university graduate, quickly recalled information about Cappadocia.
It was a small coastal town—not a famous resort like Cynes but rather a port city with a population of just a few thousand. Originally a pirate stronghold, it had been seized by imperial forces, and its pirate inhabitants were hanged. It then became an ordinary small town. However, its location within the Ingrima Empire made it significant.
Charlot immediately grasped the plan and exclaimed in surprise, “Are you suggesting I turn Cappadocia into a labyrinth?”
The High Priest gave a nearly imperceptible nod. Charlot now fully understood. The High Priest intended to use his mission as an envoy to the Ingrima Empire to ensure a contingency plan. If captured and executed, they would still have a fallback.
Charlot did not hesitate. “I will do everything to safeguard the High Priest’s retreat.”
The High Priest nodded approvingly. “Child, your intelligence pleases me greatly.”
Neither Charlot nor the High Priest discussed how Charlot’s thousands of knights would enter the Ingrima Empire and take control of Cappadocia, as they both knew such a feat was impossible.
What Charlot required was authority over the West Wind Knight Order, and the High Priest provided him with the “legitimacy” to maintain command. The actual location of the knight order was irrelevant.
The High Priest turned to Charlot. “I must now depart for Strasbourg. You must also make haste and return to Strasbourg. Our appointments are not yet finalized, and further arrangements are needed. Time is pressing; we cannot afford delays.”
Charlot realized the High Priest had made an empty promise—the mission was not yet guaranteed. Resentment bubbled up within him, and for a brief moment, he felt an urge to stab the “Grand Charlatan of the Radiant Lord” several times.
But he held back. For now.
The High Priest remained unbothered by his grandiloquent “promise.” Raising a glowing hand, he said, “Child, I will wait for you in Strasbourg.”
Charlot watched as the High Priest transformed into a streak of light and vanished into the sky. Without hesitation, Charlot gave the order to set out—he had no desire to remain in Mostar Castle any longer.
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