No news had come from Imperial Capital, which meant Count Clayton had still refused to yield.
Ryan pondered for a long time. Putting himself in Count Clayton's shoes, he could think of no solution either.
"Still not enough."
Ryan looked out at the Northlands sky beyond the window. He had once categorized everything into several great nets. Now, he had torn those nets apart one by one, and there were not many things left in the entire Empire that could restrain him.
Yet Count Clayton's predicament made him realize that the great net called "nobility" had always existed. Even Ryan himself was one of those weaving it.
It could not be torn apart.
Ryan raised the pen in his hand several times, only to put it down in the end. He had no good advice to offer Count Clayton.
Imperial Capital.
Dragons circled above the vast city. The atmosphere throughout Imperial Capital was terrifyingly still. Count Clayton returned to his estate once more. With no nobles willing to mediate, the only possible outcome was for him to personally ask the Emperor to withdraw his request for an elevation and coronation.
"Father."
Aatrox and the others came forward to welcome Count Clayton home, their expressions worried.
"What did His Majesty say?"
"What else could he say? It was surely the same as before. His Majesty would neither refuse nor agree."
"Ah."
"Why? Can the Empire truly not tolerate the title of Duke Clayton?"
Count Clayton sat in his chair with a gloomy gaze. Suddenly, he snorted coldly and burned everything on the table to ashes.
"Father."
"Haaah."
After letting out a long breath, Count Clayton finally spoke.
"I already knew the Empire would never allow a fifth duke to emerge. It has nothing to do with the Emperor. The nobles simply