Chapter 3: The Oriole

High Priest Kusbert had come to the Duke's residence again, and this time it was at the Duke's invitation. He increasingly felt that it was a great pity that he had not recognized such a friend until now. Why hadn't he discovered such a worthy companion earlier?

After some pleasantries in the sitting room, the Duke took out a garment and handed it to the High Priest, saying, "This robe is something I acquired by chance. However, it is of no use to me, and I think it would be most suitable for Your Excellency Kusbert."

Upon receiving the garment, Kusbert saw that it was a simple, pure white robe that felt light as a feather. He smiled slightly; the Duke always liked to give these delightful little gifts. However, the peculiar sensation of the fabric made him pause. He held it up to his eyes for a closer inspection and noticed the delicate patterns woven into it and its incredibly soft texture. This robe was clearly made from the finest silk imported from the Far East. Many noblewomen in the capital took pride in owning a pair of gloves made from such silk, so a robe of this size was exceptionally valuable. He hesitated, looking at the Duke with his large, protruding eyes, and said, "Your Excellency... this seems too precious."

"Too precious?" The Duke looked somewhat surprised. "I didn't spend a single copper on it, and it's of no use to me. For someone as incorruptible and noble as you, if you are still concerned about the value of an object, it seems rather vulgar." The Duke shrugged dismissively, almost with disdain, and said, "It's just a piece of clothing."

Indeed, Kusbert felt that his earlier astonishment was somewhat shallow. He couldn't help but feel a little ashamed, but more so, he felt joy. As he unfolded the robe and examined it closely, he found himself loving it more and more, imagining how he would look wearing it. However, he soon felt something was off. Although the robe was unadorned and appeared simple, the cut and style indicated that it was a robe that only a Bishop could wear according to the church's dress code. Kusbert looked at the Duke in surprise and said, "This is a robe meant for a Bishop."

"What?" The Duke frowned. "Is it? I didn't pay much attention when I got it. I didn't know it was meant only for a Bishop."

"I can't accept such a thing. Your Excellency, please take it back and give it to Bishop Ronis instead," the High Priest said, reluctantly handing the robe back to the Duke.

But the Duke shook his head repeatedly. "Once a gift has been given, how can it be taken back? Your Excellency Kusbert, just keep it. You can wear it when you are promoted to Bishop."

Kusbert gave a bitter smile, realizing that Bishop Ronis was still in office. Even though the higher-ups in the Church had a high regard for his abilities, he wouldn't get that position for at least ten years.

"And I will never give this to Bishop Ronis," Duke Mulac said coldly, his expression hardening. "I don't like him; as a Bishop, he has been quite derelict in his duties."

"Ah?" The High Priest's eyes widened, surprised as he looked at the Duke. Although he had always had some dissatisfaction with Bishop Ronis, he never dared to voice it. Ronis's reputation and accomplishments were undeniable within the Church, throughout the Empire, and even across the continent.

"Hmph. While I acknowledge Bishop Ronis's past achievements and abilities, his recent actions have increasingly failed to reflect the responsibilities of a Bishop."

The Duke's indignant expression seemed to radiate a sense of righteous indignation in the eyes of the High Priest. Kusbert couldn't help but nod slightly, saying, "Yes. I can't believe as a venerable Bishop, he has close relationship with the despicable and sordid man, Inham... And then, he promotes certain newcomers out of nowhere, ones who are absolutely unpolished and hopeless, yet the bishop sees them as treasures. Even the incident last time... sigh, I don't want to say more."

The Duke nodded. "As people grow older, their minds become less clear. It's inevitable to be stubborn and confused. But he is a Bishop; that is a real concern for the Empire."

"That... seems a bit extreme."

"You, as a noble priest, don't really understand the mundane affairs of politics and economics. The Empire's economy has been declining year by year, and the Church's finances are becoming increasingly strained. Do you know the reason?"

"Is it... because of the Bishop?"

"Exactly." The Duke sighed heavily, as if lamenting for the country and its people. "It's because the Bishop keeps fixating on his so-called extermination of the Necromancer Guild, neglecting the need to educate the people and help them find solace in the embrace of the Divine. That's why the populace is in turmoil and heresies are rising..."

After a moment of reflection, the Duke muttered under his breath, almost to himself, "Sometimes I really wonder why those monsters from the Necromancer Guild don't send an assassin to take care of someone who wants to deal with them..."

The High Priest's ugly face twitched slightly as he glanced at the white robe lying quietly on the table but said nothing.

Although the Duke was not looking directly at the High Priest, he never missed the details he needed to observe. Moreover, he had invested considerable time and energy in finding that particular expression.

When the High Priest left, the Duke insisted he take the Bishop's robe with him. "I believe you are the only one in the Empire qualified to wear this garment. Even if it's not the right time now, as my blessing and belief, please be sure to take it."

After sending off the High Priest, the Duke's expression still did not improve.

Although the plan was progressing perfectly, there was no sign that the Duke's mood would get any better. Only he knew how perilous this plan was. The risks involved were greater than any of the countless schemes and plots he had ever devised and implemented throughout his life.

But there was no choice, as it was now inevitable. It was a matter of life or death.

The Duke looked toward the Magic Academy. The grand roof of the cathedral could be seen from anywhere in the capital. The holy and majestic brilliance could still be felt even from this distance. He shook his head and muttered to himself, "You forced me to do this."

Two days later, news came from the Magic Academy.

"The Bishop went to the large house in the west of the city where the corpses are stored. He had the others wait outside and entered alone to talk with that old man for a long time. Afterward, he looked very angry. According to the priests, it seemed they had never seen the Bishop this furious before."

"Alright, I understand. You can go back now." The Duke waved his hand, and the spy from the Magic Academy turned to leave.

Although his daughter, Elaine, was unwilling to clarify the situation, the Duke, with his keen intellect, was able to analyze certain matters based on fragments of information and what he had heard that night. Everything fell within his expectations and anticipations.

When a person is angry, especially in a fit of rage, there are gaps that can be exploited, and now was undoubtedly the best time to act. However, the Duke knew that even with his grasp on the situation and the involvement of High Priest Kusbert, they still needed another ally. But where could he find someone suitable? If only Claudius hadn't run into trouble…

Claudius had only just been brought back by the Duke's men that morning. The attendant who returned with him from Airi reported that his master had gone to duel with a Church official along the way. When the Duke later saw Asa, he realized that his aide was likely in grave danger. He had dispatched men to search for him and, remarkably, they had found him. Fortunately, someone had happened upon him, dying in the woods, recognized him as an officer and a noble, and took it upon themselves to get him treated for the reward. Even so, due to his severe injuries and having lain in the wilderness for several days, he had remained unconscious and in a precarious state since being brought back.

"Marquis Ernie wishes to see you, my lord," a servant reported at that moment.

Although the Duke was in no mood to deal with trifling matters, it was still necessary to meet with the marquis. With some annoyance, he waved his hand and said, "Have him come to my study."

In the study, the marquis lowered his head, his face gloomy. Even this father, who had always been irresponsible, could not feel at ease after seeing his son in such a pitiful state.

"Youth can be too impulsive," the Duke sighed in sympathy. "I have summoned the best doctors in the capital, along with the finest priests and healers from the Magic Academy. I'm sure they can save his life."

The marquis remained silent, staring down as if lost in thought. Just as the Duke was about to politely show him the door, the marquis suddenly looked up and asked, "My lord, you know I am often away from the capital and unable to care for my son. I want to know what is your plan for him."

The Duke was taken aback. His attention had been focused elsewhere in recent days, and he hadn't considered such a straightforward question. Plan? Of course, they would first heal him... but full recovery seemed impossible. The wrist that had once wielded a sword was mangled beyond recognition; even if it could be saved, he likely wouldn't be able to hold a spoon again. Moreover, his sternum was shattered to pieces; even if he survived, he would be a cripple for the rest of his life.

What plan he can have for a cripple? The Duke paused again, as he had never dealt with uselessness before. Every matter and every person in his possession was valuable. Useless things were not worth wasting his precious time and energy on.

Claudius was indeed useless. His greatest value had already been realized. The Ernie family was now just a hollow shell; a cripple could no longer serve as a squad leader in the Knights Templar, nor could he inherit Captain Roland's mantle. He could no longer offer any benefit or contribution to the Duke.

Moreover, he seemed to be a very dangerous sort of useless. He had been involved in too many matters and knew too much...

Realizing this, the Duke remained calm and simply said, "Of course, we'll first heal him, and then he can recuperate slowly."

"I implore you to grant him a chance at life," the marquis's eyes were full of desperation as he looked at the Duke.

Even with the Duke's self-control, his expression momentarily slipped. But he quickly regained his composure, smiling kindly. "What are you saying, Marquis…"

However, the marquis didn't take the Duke's kind smile to heart and continued flatly, "Although I never involve myself in the political struggles of the capital, I am aware of many things... I understand that he knows too much. He is now in your hands."

The Duke's signature smile vanished, and he raised an eyebrow. He realized that he had subconsciously underestimated this spendthrift relative. After all, he had once been the capital's most dashing young man. Although he was indulgent in pleasures, his mind was sharp; he might not have experienced political battles directly, but he surely knew how the game was played. Furthermore, as Kusbert had said, that debauched Bishop Ronis had close ties with him, so it wouldn't be surprising if Claudius knew some of his ways and secrets.

"I know that even if I were to plead with the Bishop now, if you truly want him dead, there's nothing I can do," the marquis said, his voice heavy with sorrow. "But he is my only son. I cannot let him die. I beg you, I will agree to anything you ask."

"You're truly too good at jesting," the Duke chuckled again, but this time his smile was tinged with mockery. Instantly, he assessed the relative's value according to his own standards.

What qualifications did a spendthrift, a fallen rake, have to plead with him? At most, he could cast some minor spells and perform some trivial arts that the Duke considered worthless. As for political capital, his title was merely ornamental; his greatest asset was probably that old Bishop Ronis as a friend. At this point, he was also someone who knew too much and needed to be eliminated. Haha… wait, a friend of Bishop Ronis?

The Duke's slender eyes closed momentarily, and when he opened them again, they sparkled with delight. "Rest assured, I will ensure that Claudius receives proper treatment. But please, I need a small favor from you."

"What kind of favor?"

"Just a tiny favor. A handshake with an old friend. But it needs to be a firm one. Hehe."

What an excellent helper! After letting the marquis leave, the Duke was contemplating how to discuss this with High Priest Kusbert when, unexpectedly, the High Priest arrived in person.

Kusbert led the Duke to the study, cautiously closing the doors and windows, glancing around before he turned to the Duke with a serious and heavy expression. "I would like to ask you for a favor, Your Excellency."

"What kind of favor?"

"A significant favor that could benefit the people. I know you would be willing to help." High Priest Kusbert's tone was solemn, and his expression was grave, his bulging eyes bloodshot.

"Benefit the people? Very well. I will certainly help you," the Duke replied with righteous indignation. This was a rare instance; unlike his usual demeanor, the Duke now wore a serious expression while secretly reveling inside. The bulging eyes on the High Priest's ugly face made him resemble a mantis—one that was bloodthirsty and ready to strike at its prey.

A mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind.

He wondered if he looked like an oriole behind the mantis. The Duke hadn't felt this joyful in a long time.