Chapter 85

"Since you have done something wrong, I will not let you inherit..."

Duke Angma's unfinished words were interrupted, but Francis clearly did not entertain any侥幸心理 that his father was joking. The reality was now clear... his father's body was approaching the brink of death, and as long as Sally lived, he might not inherit all the wealth of the territory!

"What to do... what to do..."

He fiercely grabbed his meticulously styled hair, the sweat from his anxiety almost soaking his forehead, the panic and unease rising from his heart making him pace back and forth in front of the fireplace, unable to stop.

The young Francis did not have the deep and calculating nature of middle-aged people. Although he could remain calm in most situations, when it came to the inheritance of the dukedom, he was completely at a loss.

The direct descendants of the Lucifer family were only him and Sally. Although there were many aunts, uncles, and cousins in the collateral line, the only one who could truly inherit the dukedom besides him was Sally.

He had envisioned many scenarios, even fantasizing that his father would eventually tell him in person that he could inherit the vast territory. But now, his father's sudden words were like a heavy hammer, shattering all his beautiful visions and leaving him with no way out.

"Could it really... come to a confrontation with the Rose Cross?"

Francis couldn't help but think of the ultimate plan he had been most reluctant to consider. After weighing it countless times, he realized he had no choice—either eliminate Sally or watch power slip away from him.

Having grown up with Sally, he naturally understood her capabilities. If he handed over all the resources and manpower of the territory to her, he might not even have a chance to assassinate her!

His gaze slowly moved and finally landed on the information about Sally that his subordinates had collected on the table, his fist clenching slightly.

After closing his eyes and thinking for a moment, he had a rough plan in mind. Stepping out of the door, the previously distorted and fierce expression on his face had returned to its usual calm. He ordered the maid at the door, "I want to stay at the Moria estate for a while. Prepare the carriage, I'll leave tomorrow. Oh, and have Willie come over."

The maid left after receiving the order. Soon, the hunched Willie entered the young earl's room. As the door closed, the smile on his face instantly disappeared, and he issued a cold, emotionless command:

"Find someone, act as soon as possible, and eliminate Sally."

He paused for a moment.

"I will be staying at the Moria estate during this time and will not be involved in anything that happens in Holier City. Understand?"

Willie pressed his lips together and responded in a low voice, "Yes, my lord!"

******

September 1st.

No matter how the conspirators wove their plots, for the vast majority of people in Holier City, life was still just life. The matters the nobles considered had little to do with them.

It was late summer and early autumn, and the city's hustle and bustle had reached its peak for the year.

The harvest season had just passed, and the lords had already begun their new round of tax collection. After paying their taxes, if the farmers had any surplus, they would choose to sell some grain to exchange for necessities.

The merchants' cries of selling goods echoed in the square from dawn to dusk. The traveling theater troupe had set up a stage, and the leaping flames and the audience's exclamations of amazement were constant. The surrounding taverns had the scent of ale, and the minstrels played their vielle, singing popular ballads to the lively accompaniment.

Beggars lay on the street corners in the slums, occasionally waving their hands to drive away the flies circling around them. They didn't have to worry about the bad weather or where their next meal would come from as they did in winter. Occasionally, rich people would distribute food, and they would rush over, grabbing a few pieces of hard, black bread, and lie back with a sense of relief.

A city with a permanent population of 20,000 and a floating population of about 25,000, the daily scenes were largely dominated by such an atmosphere.

The streets were not particularly clean, and the smell of manure would occasionally waft by as carriages passed. The common people's clothing was mostly in dark gray tones, and the noise was tinged with a bit of ordinariness—every time Sally gazed out the window, she felt a bit of such emotions.

In the past few months, the young daughter of the duke had completely adapted to life in the convent. It was monotonous, but her life in the duke's mansion wasn't much better, so she mostly took a go-with-the-flow attitude.

The prayers were over, and after finishing the day's tasks, she wrote some things unknown to others in her room. The parchment in her hand contained the tasks she had assigned to her subordinates outside the convent—by now, she had勉强 established an intelligence network outside the convent, extending its tentacles to the main towns of the territory, the farthest being the location marked at the beginning of this letter—

Nolan Village.

"Missing... entered the grassland with two squads of scouts... Could they really be causing trouble with the orcs?"

The same news was a joke to Francis, but Sally did not show any contempt. Instead, she read it repeatedly with great seriousness and ultimately confirmed a possibility in her heart.

A young girl's thoughts were always a bit complicated. She was worried that Rody might have an accident and had even considered the worst possibility... that Rody might have died in battle in that vast, endless grassland—

No, no, no, she couldn't think like that.

Every time those unimaginable yet uncontrollable images appeared in her mind, she felt her heart beat faster, and then she would examine her feelings for him from a completely calm perspective...

What is he to you? Is he worth worrying about?

He's just a scoundrel, just trying to use you!

He...

Her fingers slightly tightened around the parchment, and she took a deep breath.

Four months without seeing him, the image of Rody in her mind had become somewhat blurry, but the strange "intersections" between them had become more profound—being thrown out by him when facing the Scorpion King, being asked to use the necklace to sneak around when confronting Francis, being pushed to the other side of the debris in the mine... various scenes flashed by, some filled with gratitude, some with embarrassment, some with guilt, and some with disappointment.

Thinking of their last meeting, when she took the soft armor he made and watched his back as he walked away, Sally pursed her lips, feeling that she couldn't quite pinpoint his place in her heart.

She took a deep breath, stood up, and straightened her habit. The afternoon sunlight shone through the window, and her white-gold hair was gently tied up, shimmering with a crystalline light.

"Maybe... he has already forgotten about me."

She would always complain like this, but the sentences in her heart were completely different. The conflicting feelings continued as Sally walked out of her bedroom and headed towards the church at the front of the convent—usually, the nuns would answer believers' questions about the doctrine in the front hall, and by sunset, they would have completed their daily tasks.

Many believers respectfully bowed to this "candidate deacon" as she passed, and Sally smiled and returned their greetings, occasionally exchanging a few words with familiar believers. Born into a noble family, she was adept at handling interpersonal relationships and was generally well-liked by most people in the convent. Even the few who were slightly cold towards her did not dare to show any disrespect due to her status and position.

"Sally, Burke went to the tavern a few days ago to listen to a minstrel's story. It sounded very interesting!"

A brown-haired girl caught up to Sally's pace, their relationship quite close, and they were considered close friends in the convent.

Of course, this was also because the girl named Chris was the daughter of a viscount, and the same noble blood made them naturally more "compatible"—naturally, Chris had little interest in other believers from commoner backgrounds, and her "female friendship" with Sally was more about mutual benefit.

"Burke always likes to run around. The bishop would definitely scold him if he found out," Sally smiled. "What story got you so excited? Another battle between a knight and a dragon?"

"No, no, no, you wouldn't believe it," Chris shook her head vigorously. "Those stories about knights and princesses are for children who haven't heard fairy tales. Hey... the story Burke heard was about orcs!"

Chris, with a clear hint of showmanship, looked around as if hoping to attract more people to her story. As expected, three or four young people stopped and slowly gathered around, their faces filled with curiosity.

After all, many of the believers were not much older than twenty, and it was unrealistic to expect them to spend their days studying heavy tomes. So, during such rest periods in the convent, the atmosphere among the monks and nuns was quite relaxed, not as solemn as one might imagine.

"Fierce orcs! My father always used them to scare me, but I've never heard stories about them. Burke heard a very novel version, he said—uh... Sally?"

Chris stopped talking because she suddenly noticed that Sally's expression seemed off.

"Hmm? Orcs, yes, orcs, ah... this story should be very interesting. I was just wondering where these orc stories might come from."

Sally smiled, but her smile was faint, and her fingers under her habit clenched slightly, her pace slowing a bit.

Chris thought she had just imagined it and continued, "Burke said a lot, he was very animated, talking about a battle on the border, strong orcs, brave human warriors, and the story of the wolf riders... it seemed to be about the war when Emperor Conne fought the orcs."

Sally's eyes narrowed slightly, feeling a bit melancholic and disappointed, and she nodded half-heartedly, "Then what?"

"But unlike the usual stories, this time the minstrel also told a story about scouts—honestly, I didn't even know what they did until Burke told me."

"Sc... scouts?"

"Yes, they are soldiers who perform reconnaissance tasks, gather intelligence, and sacrifice themselves for the country when necessary. I always heard about how brave certain knights were, but later I found out that many of the things they claimed as their own were actually the achievements of scouts, these 'little people.'"

The two walked side by side, and Chris began to recount the story she had just heard, while Sally listened silently, her gaze fixed ahead. At one moment, hearing something that touched her heart, she felt a strange lump in her throat.

"...One person killed ten wolf riders, and the team killed the orcs who committed atrocities. It really makes you feel excited, doesn't it?"

Chris excitedly made a "slash" gesture, turned her head, and saw Sally rubbing her eyes.

"Sally?"

Feeling a bit flustered, Sally quickly blinked to clear the mist from her eyes, waved her hand to indicate she was fine, and when Chris mentioned the scouts avenging the dead villagers by charging into the orc kingdom, Sally finally stopped, feeling apologetic, and said in a voice she was trying to keep steady, "Chris... I just remembered something. I might not be able to go to the church this afternoon. Please apologize to Bishop Benjamin for me."

Without waiting for Chris's response, she turned and ran back to her room, the parchment she had read countless times tightly clenched in her hand.

"Scoundrel... finally decided to come and find me, huh!"

The page turns with an ad.

The page turns with an ad.