Message

Five days later, Fran City, the Governor's Office.

Inside the elegantly decorated office, which was imbued throughout with a soldier's austere practicality, Earl Rochefort was bent over his desk, reviewing the routine reports sent from the border outposts.

Afternoon sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, casting colorful shadows across the polished oak floor. The air carried a faint scent of tobacco and old books.

Suddenly, someone gave the office door a light knock. Before the Earl could respond, his Chief Recorder hurried in, holding a letter marked by a scarlet feather symbolizing "urgent military intelligence." A trace of barely suppressed excitement showed on his face.

"My lord! An urgent military report! It came from the Northern Territory. Sir Kylan sent a trusted courier, who relayed it by carrier pigeon and fast horse!" The Recorder's voice trembled slightly from haste as he presented the letter with both hands.

At that, the Earl's hand paused slightly around his quill. A barely perceptible gravity crossed his composed face. He knew all too well that the fighting at Tyrol had reached its conclusion.

He set down his pen, took the letter, swiftly broke the Wax Seal, unfolded the paper, and scanned the slightly hurried yet clear and forceful handwriting.

As he read on, the expression on the Earl's face kept changing.

At first, he examined it calmly. Then his brows lifted slightly in surprise. Next, sharp, disbelieving light erupted in his sea-deep eyes, while the corners of his mouth rose uncontrollably. In the end, his expression became an uncontrollable mixture of overwhelming joy and shock!

"Good! Good! Good lad!" The Earl shot up from his high-backed chair and could not help repeating "good" three times. His booming voice echoed through the study.

Holding the letter, he paced back and forth across the thickly carpeted