SFS Chapter 113 : Chapter 113
Chapter 113 : Chapter 113
Chapter 113.Carlisle Van Astrelia
The royal capital, Silverglow City.
Unlike Avalon’s holiness, the center of power in this human kingdom was now shrouded in a suffocating gloom.
Inside the residence of the Second Prince.
Crash!
A priceless antique vase was hurled viciously against the wall, and shards of porcelain scattered across the floor.
“Trash! Useless trash!”
Carlisle Van Astrelia, the heir apparent who usually maintained the image of an iron-blooded soldier, was now pacing through the study like a furious lion.
His signature platinum-blond short hair was slightly disheveled, and two buttons at his collar had been torn open, exposing his heaving chest.
Kneeling on the floor was a black-clad intelligence chief, his forehead pressed to the ground, trembling like a leaf.
“This is your explanation?!” Carlisle pointed at a bloodstained report on the ground and roared until his voice cracked. “Two batches! Two entire batches of Nightingales! Do you know how much money it took to raise assassins of that caliber? They were thrown into that frozen nest in the Northern Territory, and they vanished without even making a sound!”
“Y-Your Highness…” The intelligence chief raised his head with a shudder. “It is not that our people were incompetent… there is… there is something strange over there!”
“Something strange? Are you talking about that half-baked mage Logaris, or that little yellow-haired girl Sylvia?”
“Neither!” The intelligence chief swallowed hard and shakily pulled out a torn piece of cloth from his chest. “This was found on the corpse of one of the second batch of assassins… it was deliberately left behind.”
Carlisle snatched the cloth from his hand.
After only one glance, his brows instantly twisted together.
It was a strip torn from an assassin’s uniform, and drawn upon it in blood was an extremely intricate hidden crest.
The pattern looked like a withered rose, yet also like an eye staring directly at the viewer.
Carlisle’s hand began to tremble.
He recognized that mark.
The Royal Shadow Guard.
That was the shadow force that obeyed only the king himself.
Legend held that every member of this force was a monster who had crawled out of piles of corpses.
They had no names, no pasts, only code names.
And this “Withered Rose” was the mark of the Shadow Guard’s leader.
“Father…”
Carlisle slumped into his chair, and the bloodstained cloth slipped from his hand.
The old king had been bedridden with grave illness for three years.
During those three years, the affairs of state had mostly been conveyed through the Regency Council, and everyone had assumed that the old king could do nothing but lie in bed and wait for death.
But now…
This bloodstained scrap of cloth was like a resounding slap across Carlisle’s face.
The old man was still watching everything from the shadows.
He had sent out his sharpest fangs to protect the youngest daughter who had been “exiled” to the Northern Territory.
Why?
Carlisle could not understand it.
Ever since childhood, Sylvia had been the least favored child.
If she had not fought for herself and awakened an exceptional talent as a knight, she probably would have died long ago in some filthy corner of palace intrigue.
And yet now, his father had actually mobilized the Royal Shadow Guard for her sake?
This was not merely protection.
It was a warning.
A warning to Carlisle: do not touch her.
“Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!”
Carlisle slammed his fist onto the desk, and a crack split across the surface of the fine redwood.
A sense of crisis.
An unprecedented sense of crisis coiled itself around his heart like a venomous snake.
If his father truly favored Sylvia… if they really achieved something earth-shaking in the Northern Territory… then would his position as Second Prince still remain secure?
“Where is my elder brother?” Carlisle suddenly lifted his head, his eyes bloodshot. “What is that coward Dorg doing?”
“The First Prince…” The intelligence chief hesitated for a moment. “A few days ago, His Highness claimed he was unwell and went to recuperate at Redleaf Manor outside the city. He has shut his doors to all visitors and is seeing no one.”
“Recuperate? Ha!” Carlisle let out a cold laugh. “Recuperating at a time like this? I think he is playing dead! That old fox has definitely smelled something in the air too. He wants to pull himself out of the mess and watch Sylvia and me tear each other apart, so he can reap the fisherman’s profit in the end!”
He felt isolated and without support.
Carlisle felt as though he had been thrown into a broken house with wind leaking in from every side, surrounded by wolves that wanted him dead.
Just then.
A sudden burst of hurried footsteps came from outside the door.
“Report—!”
A messenger soldier stumbled into the room, forgetting even to salute, and dropped to his knees with an urgent military dispatch held high in both hands.
“Your Highness! Urgent news from the southeastern border!”
“Read it!”
“The Great Rift… the mana fluctuations at the Great Rift have become abnormal! According to the observation towers, another monster tide has begun. The frontline commander requests immediate reinforcements and a transfer of reserve military supplies!”
The Great Rift.
It was a vast abyss to the southeast of the kingdom, bottomless and spewing magical beasts all year round.
It was the kingdom’s scar, and also its greatest threat.
Carlisle stared at the dispatch.
The irritation on his previously dark expression slowly transformed into barely concealed contempt.
Another monster tide.
This thing was like a woman’s monthly cycle—it came around again every so often.
The magical beasts at the Great Rift might be numerous, but as long as those few mountain passes were held, they were nothing more than merits delivered straight to one’s doorstep.
“What perfect timing. A man gets sleepy, and someone hands him a pillow.”
Carlisle stood up and walked to the military map on the wall.
His finger traced the red line of the southeastern border, and a cold smile curled at the corner of his mouth.
How was this a disaster?
This was clearly an opportunity.
Since his father was trying to maintain a balance, and since assassination was no longer working, then he would have to use another method to increase the chips in his hand.
Only war—even a routine defensive battle—was the best excuse for expanding military strength.
Only under wartime conditions could the Ministry of Military Affairs bypass that endlessly nagging Ministry of Finance and reach directly into the national treasury.
“Transmit my orders.”
Carlisle turned around.
The aura of the iron-blooded heir had returned, now even tinged with greed.
“Order the Bloodmoon Legion to assemble two battalions and make a show of marching to the southeastern front. Also…”
He paused, his eyes gleaming with calculation.
“Use the pressure of the frontline war as grounds to submit a special military funding request to the council. I want this year’s military budget doubled! Even if I have to pry it out from between those old nobles’ teeth, I will rip that money out of them!”
As for Sylvia?
The proper thing to do now was to seize the lion’s share from the national treasury first.
Once he had enough money and soldiers in hand, it would not be too late to turn around and deal with that arrogant girl.
“As long as I hold the guns and the purse strings, then no matter how biased Father is, he will still have to think twice.”
Carlisle grabbed the quill on the desk and signed his name heavily across the urgent military dispatch, the force of the stroke pressing through the paper.
“Go tell those old bastards that the front line is in grave danger. If even one Copper Sparrow Coin is missing, and the magical beasts break through the defenses, the blame will fall on their heads!”