116 Conspiracy

After listening to Hubert's emotional words, Ferguson remained calm and composed. He had long passed the age of impulsivity, and if his emotions could be stirred with just a few words, he wouldn't have held his position for so long.

"I know what needs to be done." Ferguson replied dismissively, walking past Hubert towards the exit of the study. "I'm sorry, Lord Hubert, but I have some matters to attend to, so I won't be able to accompany you any longer."

"Princess Morgan has betrayed us." Hubert suddenly declared.

Ferguson paused, turning back with a slight frown.

"What did you say?"

"Last night, she hosted a banquet." Hubert continued, his face filled with evident anger. "In front of all the nobles, she spun a false tale, claiming that the new king is the child Merlin secretly raised, the one the late king entrusted to him!"

Ferguson's pupils constricted to pinpricks.

"Lord Ferguson, you and I both know that the late king entrusted Merlin with a girl named Artoria, the very knight who now stands by that impostor's side."

Hubert spoke with a grave tone.

"Clearly, he must have used some form of manipulation to seize the throne from the girl, even Princess Morgan has fallen under his sway. She's willing to besmirch the honor of her own father just to help this impostor ascend to the throne. I cannot accept such a thing!"

"For fifteen years, we've tirelessly maintained this kingdom, pulling it back from the brink, and allowing its people to enjoy the hard-earned peace. But look at what that impostor has done."

Hubert continued passionately.

"He's come in and without our knowledge, destroyed an entire nation. He openly declares war on the North, undoing all our work of the past fifteen years! The innocent people believe he's the Chosen King who will bring hope, but he's nothing more than a bloodthirsty tyrant, using this nation to satisfy his desire for war and bloodshed!"

"The late king built Camelot to be a beacon of hope for the people, a safe haven, not a tool for someone's personal gain and a plaything for their ambition."

Hubert declared with a determined tone.

"Lord Ferguson, we can't stand idly by any longer. If this impostor takes the throne, Camelot will inevitably descend into chaos. This land will be torn asunder, and our nation will cease to exist! How can we face the late king if that happens?!"

"..."

Hubert's emotional words finally made Ferguson deeply moved. After a prolonged silence, Ferguson finally spoke, "What's your plan?"

"I intend to reveal the truth during the coronation ceremony." Hubert answered without hesitation.

"Are you out of your mind?!"

Ferguson's eyes flashed with anger as he took a big step forward.

"Do you even realize that exposing the truth during the coronation will shatter the trust of the people and nobles?! The royal family's reputation will plummet, the people's morale will crash, and the nobles will become resentful! Most importantly, King Uther's legacy will be tarnished!"

"I understand all of that."

Hubert met Ferguson's gaze unwaveringly.

"But the current situation leaves us with no room for that kind of consideration. If we can't even ensure the survival of our nation, what good are those things you're talking about? That impostor is at the height of his power, and this is our last chance. If we miss this opportunity, we will be absolutely without hope. And don't worry, if something goes wrong, I will bear the consequences alone."

Ferguson stared at Hubert intently for a while, then sighed wearily.

"Even if you spill the beans, what good does it do now? The Princess had already admitted his origin, and as long as that little girl Artoria doesn't come forward, we can't expose him."

"That's not necessarily true..." Hubert replied, a mysterious smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "In the face of conclusive evidence, even Princess Morgan herself won't make a difference."

"Evidence?" Ferguson furrowed his brows. "Have you discovered the true origin of that new king?"

"No, I don't need to prove who he is. I only need to prove that he's not the late king's son." Hubert said with a faint smile. "With magecraft at our disposal, achieving this isn't difficult at all. We just need a drop of the late king's blood or a strand of his hair."

"King Uther passed away fifteen years ago. There's no blood or hair left." Ferguson pointed out.

"We don't have them on hand, but I know a place where we can find those things..." Hubert revealed.

"Where?"

"The Holy Church." Hubert replied calmly.

Ferguson's expression darkened suddenly.

"Are you suggesting..."

"Yes." Hubert nodded. "The late king's remains are currently being kept in the Holy Church's crypt, and with their methods, even after hundreds of years, they can preserve the body."

Ferguson grabbed Hubert's collar abruptly, his aged face filled with uncontrollable anger.

"You! Not only want to tarnish King Uther's reputation, but you're also planning to disturb his peaceful rest?!"

"All of this is a necessary sacrifice!" Hubert exclaimed earnestly, looking into Ferguson's eyes. "As I mentioned before, I'm willing to bear the consequences alone."

Ferguson fell silent for a long time, then released his grip, leaned on his desk, and massaged his temples.

"What do you want me to do?" Ferguson asked wearily.

Hubert calmly straightened his disheveled collar and turned to face Ferguson.

"If I remember correctly, the control of Camelot's magic formations is in your hands."

"Indeed..." Ferguson replied, realizing that without this leverage, he would have no control over the immense power he held now.

"You must be aware of how powerful that impostor and his knights are. If things go south, he might go all-in. So, that magic formations will be crucial in successfully executing this plan." Hubert explained.

Ferguson remained silent for a moment and then nodded.

Hubert's lips curled slightly, and he elegantly bowed.

"Well then, I won't bother you any longer, Lord Ferguson. For the sake of our shared ideals, I hope we can cooperate smoothly."

With that, Hubert turned and left the study, courteously closing the door behind him.

Ferguson slowly sat in his high-backed chair, his brown eyes filled with complexity.

At that moment, a soft laughter echoed in his ears.

"Haha, such a clever orator, yet confined to the role of Minister of Finance. It's a waste of his talents. Too bad he lacks a clean conscience; otherwise, I might have considered appointing him as the Minister of Foreign Affairs."

Ferguson was startled at the sudden voice and instinctively turned his head.

He saw a man with black hair and eyes in silver armor sitting on the sofa, his relaxed demeanor suggesting he had been there all along, just unnoticed by everyone.

"You are...!"