Chapter 6: Reshuffling

In the study of the Duke's residence, Prime Minister Murak was happily and busily handling affairs.

Despite the many significant events that had occurred in the past couple of days, His Majesty the King still remembered to bestow a position that had long been prepared for the Duke. To be honest, however, the Duke didn't care much about it.

The title of Prime Minister seemed to come effortlessly, almost as if it would arrive on its own. It didn't take much effort compared to taking a small piece of bread. His eldest daughter was already the Minister of Finance, and his youngest daughter was about to become an imperial consort. The military ministers were being skillfully manipulated by him, and the Ernie family was almost entirely finished. Who else could take this position but him? So the Duke was happy not because of this, but something else.

The door to the study room opened, and the sharp and capable Minister of Finance walked in, holding a stack of documents.

Elaine placed the documents in front of the Duke and said, "This is the loss report from the battle against the necromancer two days ago. The compensation for the fallen warriors and mages, the expenses for recruiting so many high-level warriors to replenish the holy knights... In total, the amount is two thousand three hundred and fifty-nine gold coins."

The Duke glanced at the documents. The budget categories were clear and detailed, and he nodded, letting out a satisfied sigh. Thinking back to the battle two days ago, he realized he hadn't felt such shock and joy in many years.

Over fifty members of the Knights Templar and four squad leaders had died in the battle against the necromancer. This was his surprise—indeed a shocking one.

This was the largest and most astonishing loss since the establishment of the Knights Templar. It was merely an attempt to deal with a single necromancer with the help of nearly a thousand priests and mages.

Long ago, the Duke had already known that this strange old man, who had connections with the Bishop, was definitely a master. After the incident caused by the Prime Minister's son, he had confirmed that this old man was indeed a necromancer. It was likely that he was hiding here under the personal protection of the Bishop due to some unknown reasons.

The fact that the Bishop was friend with a necromancer was certainly a huge secret. However, not wishing to expose himself, the Duke had never leaked this information. In the end, it proved to be an extremely wise decision.

The Duke didn't want to delve into the relationship between the strange old man and the priest, nor did he want to investigate the connection with the Bishop. However, now that the Bishop was dead, the fact that the person who knew the true culprit could not be that priest was undoubtedly a huge risk, especially since he was a friend of the Bishop and a terrifying necromancer.

Although his power should be unfathomable, the Duke had caught a glimpse of it long ago. A mage who could pressure him, a swordsman, into not daring to make a move with sheer killing intent and aura was definitely comparable to Bishop Ronis. The outcome of the Prime Minister's son incident also illustrated this well.

Yet, under the Duke's manipulation, even if the necromancer was ten times more powerful, it would be useless. He was merely an unidentified necromancer, and it was only reasonable to eliminate him using the Knights Templar and the Mage Academy.

However, the Duke never expected that the battle would be so arduous and vast. Merely killing this one person led to such a terrifying and chaotic scene, with heaven darkening and earth shaking. The battle was short, but the flames, explosions, poison gas, and holy light... a storm composed of chaotic magical elements and sword energy, and in the end, the powerful self-detonation of the necromancer himself, was simply unbelievable. Even with the Duke's composure, he was completely shaken by what he witnessed.

Fortunately, the large house was located in the most remote area on the outskirts of the capital, causing damage only to a few insignificant streets and injuring just over a hundred civilians.

However, after the shock, the Duke was overjoyed, especially when he saw that two squad leaders of the Knights Templar and a dozen swordsmen were torn apart by the massive explosion from being too close to the necromancer. He nearly applauded the necromancer in appreciation.

"What's the budget for the reconstruction of that district?" the Duke asked.

The Minister of Finance immediately took out another document, which was an inch thick and detailed all the expenditures. "In total, it's around two thousand three hundred gold coins. There are too many items, so the budget can only be precise to this extent."

The Duke nodded. Clearing the streets, cleaning up the corpses, having priests deal with the terrifying effects of the poisonous magic, repairing the damaged buildings... managing such complex tasks and budgeting it accurately to this extent was something that no other official in the Empire could accomplish. This Minister of Finance truly deserved her position.

"With these two expenditures, the treasury is inevitably going to be tight. We can only cut costs in other areas... The recruitment and supply work of the Knights Templar will have to be temporarily postponed..."

The Minister of Finance continued in a clear and crisp voice, reading from the document, "No matter the circumstances, the integrity and combat power of the Knights Templar should be guaranteed. That is the foundation of the Empire's stability and a system that has not changed for hundreds of years. Moreover, if the reconstruction funds are not allocated immediately, the military ministers will also voice their concerns."

"The system is dead, but the situation is alive. Now that diplomatic relations with neighboring countries are harmonious and there is no war, it is only natural to delay this. As for how long to delay..." It would naturally be until he deemed it appropriate, and a smile involuntarily crept onto the Duke's lips. "You don't need to worry about the military ministers; I will definitely clarify this matter with them. This is very important, and I will personally assist Captain Roland in handling it... haha."

If there was anything he still had to be cautious about in the Empire, it was the Knights Templar. Normally, the personnel structure of this organization was extremely strict, and it was almost entirely handled by Captain Roland. Thus, no matter how much ambition or means the Duke had, he could only look up in vain. However, the personnel losses caused by that respected and lovely necromancer were undoubtedly a tremendous opportunity. Delaying the funds a bit and finding a chance to insert some of his people in was really an easy task.

"Yes." The Minister of Finance replied lightly and continued flipping through the documents.

A series of footsteps approached from afar. The sound was crisp and powerful, the metal soles of the knight's boots striking the floor in an unhesitating manner. Just from that sound, one could sense the youth and energy of the person. Each step was evenly spaced, further illustrating his extraordinary self-discipline, strictness, precision, and meticulousness.

The study room's door opened, and a young knight walked in. Just like the footsteps he made, he wore impeccable knightly attire, and every movement, even every expression, displayed the perfect demeanor of a knight. He was not Claudius, but he seemed to be born to be the Duke's good assistant, just like Claudius. Though he was equally handsome and tall, he lacked the overwhelming toughness and killing intent of Claudius, appearing instead gentle and approachable. He was the Duke's new assistant, Rodhart.

Two days ago, the news of Bishop Ronis being assassinated by the necromancer's spy priest had just spread throughout the capital. Shortly after the Duke returned from eliminating the necromancer, Rodhart came to seek him out.

"Duke, I'm here to be your assistant," Rodhart stated straightforwardly, surprising even the Duke with his candor.

The Duke smiled and replied modestly, "Not at all. Rodhart, you are currently a promising newcomer cultivated by the military; I don't have such a great honor to have you as my assistant."

"Duke, I'm here to ally with you," Rodhart reaffirmed his intention with a sincere yet respectful tone, one that was definitely not obsequious. "I currently have a great future in the military, serving as a squad leader in the Knights Templar. I am clever and know the ins and outs. With my assistance, you can maneuver the military more conveniently. I can definitely do better than Claudius."

"So you mean to say you are more valuable to me," the Duke replied with a smile that contained a hint of mockery, but more of appreciation.

"Exactly. I can be of greater help to you," Rodhart nodded.

"You're a clever man," the Duke said meaningfully, nodding. "Really clever, someone who can accomplish great things."

With the death of Bishop Ronis, the pillar he had relied on to gain the Duke's attention was gone. Moreover, his friend was about to become the most wanted criminal on the continent. While the situation in the court seemed relatively stable, the all-powerful Duke would never let go of someone who once harbored thoughts of independence and had the potential, intelligence, ambition, and knowledge to be a threat.

It was undoubtedly unwise to oppose the Duke. The differences in power, methods, and status couldn't be calculated by reason. Moreover, conflict was always the last resort of the foolish. Thus, Rodhart immediately chose a path that others would consider almost insane—he would re-align himself with the Duke.

To see such a situation required exceptional vision and intellect. To make this choice, one needed the broad-mindedness to focus on major matters rather than petty details.

A man like the Duke would never care about what you had done before; he only cared about one thing: whether you were still useful. Your past actions, whether good or bad for him, merely served as a reference for his assessment of your character and capability. As long as he could ascertain your ability and potential for utility and believed he could control you, that was sufficient.

"I don't know how long it's been since I've spoken so openly to someone," the Duke sighed, a bit nostalgic. He smiled at the young man who had come to pledge his loyalty, feeling a hint of interest. "I believe you are certainly capable. At least, when I was your age, I certainly didn't have your insight, demeanor, or depth."

Rodhart remained silent, standing with his head bowed, waiting for the Duke's decision.

The Duke continued to smile as he looked at Rodhart. "But I also know you are quite ambitious. Do you really think I would keep such a capable, clever, and deep-minded person by my side, waiting for the moment they would stab me in the back?"

Rodhart said nothing, still standing there respectfully.

"Well, since you've come, it means you believe I will accept your allegiance, right? Now take a guess: is your judgment right or wrong?" The Duke narrowed his eyes, curling his fingers as he slowly tapped the table with them, one by one. "And… if you are wrong, what will the outcome be?"

If he was wrong and the Duke did not accept his suggestion, the outcome could very well be that he wouldn't even be able to leave the Duke's residence. He had demonstrated such an understanding of the Duke's character, style, and current situation that the Duke would certainly not let him go, not even allowing him the chance to escape. Having been so close to the spy from the Necromancer's Guild, just this reason alone could justify his immediate execution.

Rodhart remained standing silently. The only sound in the room was the Duke's monotonous tapping, falling in rhythm with his heartbeat.

After a long pause, he finally spoke. His voice was steady and clear, devoid of any emotional fluctuation: "I won't guess, because this is my own judgment. Moreover, this matter is not just about whether my choice is right or wrong," his gaze remained unwavering as he looked at the Duke, "but also about whether your choice is right or wrong."

The Duke's tapping abruptly ceased. "Then I will tell you: your judgment is correct." His smile was not only one of satisfaction but carried a hint of something else—determination. "I will keep you by my side."

"Thank you, Your Grace," Rodhart bowed to the Duke. From this moment, he transformed from a discarded pawn and adversary into his assistant, subordinate, partner, and ally.

"No need to thank me. You know, I keep you not for your sake but for my own. Not just because you are useful to me, but also because you are a potential threat to me." The Duke stood up and glanced out the window, his eyes filled with ambition and resolve. "There is no one left in this country who is my opponent. Without opponents, there are no threats. And living in a world without a sense of crisis, even the fiercest and most cunning beast will gradually degenerate. So I keep you here, not just for you to help me but also to keep myself on guard."

As Rodhart entered the study, he performed a very standard salute and presented a report: "Your Grace, here's the current personnel arrangement in the Knights Templar, detailing the vacant positions and the types of individuals needed."

The Duke took the report but set it aside, smiling as he asked Rodhart, "What is your current position in the order? Has Captain Roland been confirmed?"

Rodhart stood at attention and answered, "I've taken over as the leader of the Fourth Squad, leading thirty swordsmen and one fire mage."

The Duke nodded with a smile. "That's right. How is Captain Roland's injury?"

"Thanks to the timely return of two high-ranking clerics from the Magic Academy, Captain is now in stable condition."

"Oh, that's good." Although he said it was good, the Duke's eyebrows, as thin as his eyes, slightly furrowed. If there were any minor regrets in this pleasant surprise, that would be it.

Fifty members and four squad leaders had fallen. This personnel vacancy indeed offered a significant gift to the Duke. However, the Duke would have preferred that not a single member died; he wouldn't mind if five hundred more suddenly appeared, as long as one person could die gloriously—Captain Roland.

If it truly came to that, perhaps the Duke would be a hundred times happier than he was now, and he might even quietly erect a statue in the basement for that respectable necromancer.

However, since that old man had no ability to earn such an honor, the Duke was not too anxious. He could take his time in the future; as long as he had a gap to place his people in the Knights Templar, future opportunities would arise. The success of Bishop Ronis's matter had greatly boosted his courage and ambition.

With Bishop Ronis dead, the Knights Templar had suffered a significant blow. The entire power structure and landscape of the capital had changed. This was a massive reshuffling; some cards would disappear, while others would change places and roles, producing different effects. The one controlling the direction of these cards was, of course, the Duke, the most skilled political player. Take Rodhart, for instance.

The Duke asked, "Has the warrant for the murderer been issued?" If this potential threat were completely eliminated, it could be said that all the cards in the capital would be in his hands.

"The King is heartbroken. In addition to the five thousand gold coins proposed by Bishop Ronis, an additional reward has been added. Whoever captures him will be granted the title of a first-class viscount." Rodhart's voice was calm, steady, and concise. "The warrant has been promptly distributed to every corner of the Empire, and messengers have been sent to negotiate its distribution to other nations."

"What about the Church?"

"The warrant from the Magic Academy has been submitted to the Church. I heard the Holy See is extremely furious and has sent warrants directly to all parishes and subordinate organizations."

The Duke nodded in satisfaction, sighing a bit, "Such an evil and insane criminal indeed needs to be dealt with this way. The King has actually issued such a hefty reward. Five thousand gold coins, though the Church will bear part of it, is still a significant burden on the national treasury. I wonder who will receive such an astonishing reward?" He turned to Rodhart and smiled, asking, "Do you want it?"

Rodhart thought for a moment, then shook his head slightly, responding, "I can't capture him."

"Many things aren't solely about strength; it's mainly about the approach. I believe you understand this very well. Because you are a clever man, someone who accomplishes great things," the Duke said with a smile, looking at his new deputy. "Have any details about the spy from the Magic Academy been uncovered? For example, where is his hometown? Who are his family members?"

"None. Everything discovered was forged."

"Ah, indeed a spy," the Duke nodded and asked Rodhart. "Since you were once friends with that spy, do you know any of his background?"

"I don't know," Rodhart shook his head.

The Duke nodded and turned to the Minister of Finance. "Then you must know, right?"

"No, I don't know," Elaine said, her eyes cold as they met the Duke's gaze before she lowered her head back to the documents.

The Duke chuckled lightly. "So you don't know either. Allow me to enlighten you. Quite some time ago, I received some clues from certain sources, and they suddenly come to mind now… The spy's hometown should be in the Kalendor Basin, likely with a blacksmith father. The local culture is simple and honest, so it should be easy to find out about such an extraordinary figure."

"I understand. I'll head to Kalendor right away." Rodhart nodded and turned to leave, his footsteps as firm and rhythmic as before, gradually fading as he walked away.

The Duke suddenly recalled the first time he had pursued this person. However, after going through such a long detour, the situation was now completely different. He no longer had to worry about anything; he could use any means he thought of. Under his intricate and subtle strategies, the boy's fate was almost visible.

The Duke couldn't help but feel a bit sentimental about someone who had taken him so long to deal with. So much had happened in between—the variables in the agreement with Orford, the actions of Bishop Ronis... But ultimately, he would emerge victorious, smiling in the end. As he thought about finally resolving this opponent who had consumed so much of his energy and gone through so many twists and turns to achieve victory, he felt a twinge of reluctance. He sighed, satisfied yet somewhat melancholy.

"Please stop this," Elaine suddenly spoke up.

"Stop what?" The Duke was a bit surprised.

"Let him go. Please stop this," Elaine raised her head, her eyes pleading as she looked at the Duke. "He won't reveal what you've done. He has no interest in any of this. Why do you have to do this? Haven't you killed enough people already?"

The Duke frowned and shook his head at his daughter. "I thought you had matured a bit. Why are you still so tied up in personal feelings? He's a cultist who murdered the Bishop."

"I know he would never have tried to kill the Bishop."

"I know it's hard for you to believe, but at least a hundred priests witnessed it…"

"Weren't they all arranged by you, Father?" Elaine's voice trembled. "You've already killed the Bishop; isn't that enough? Please stop."

"What did you just say?" The Duke looked up, his voice not loud, but his gaze and tone were anything but paternal. "Who told you that?"

"I don't need anyone to tell me. Who would dare speak against you now? But do you think I can't see? Who else would have the guts to do something like this besides you?" Elaine met the Duke's gaze, which seemed capable of conjuring ice spikes, without showing fear. Her trembling voice wasn't out of fear but rather out of a despair-driven fervor. Her expression was even more intense against her imposing official uniform. "Have you thought about the consequences of this? Are you going to kill everyone who stands in your way and become the King? And then what? Go to war with neighboring countries? Please stop…"

"Shut up!" The Duke suddenly stood up, glaring at Elaine, his thin eyes gleaming as if he wished to pierce her right there.

Elaine continued to look at her father. Their similarly shaped eyes faced off with completely different glints.

After a long silence, the Duke finally slowly sat back down, looking up at the ceiling with a long sigh. "You should leave and think about this."

Elaine quietly exited the study room. Back in her room, she sat at her desk in a daze. She genuinely didn't know how to handle the current situation, or perhaps she felt utterly powerless to manage it. The only thing she could do was hope to influence her father, wishing that the bond of father and daughter would make him reconsider, even just a little.

However, not long after, when a rapid succession of footsteps echoed outside the hallway, Elaine realized she was wrong. Her father had not turned back; instead, he took a large step forward.

"My lord, we suspect that you have been in contact with the necromancer spy who murdered the Bishop. Please come with us." The leader of the guards entered, saluting first, then politely addressed Elaine.

Elaine didn't speak, merely letting out a defeated sigh.

In another room, the Duke sighed as well. This reshuffling of cards made him feel as though he had aged ten years.