Conclusion

Kallen City was a small city of roughly twenty thousand people, situated at the mouth of Vania Valley. It controlled a vital water route leading to Liurnia while also shielding Altus from the turmoil in the Gelmir region. If one continued northeast, in less than two hundred li, they would reach the most perilous pass in The Lands Between—the Grand Lift of Dectus, the greatest natural barrier on the continent.

In short, this far from wealthy city held an extremely crucial strategic position for the Golden Dynasty. Every one of its successive governors had come from one of the kingdom's deepest-rooted noble houses, and the ownership of this power had naturally become a battlefield where the various factions crushed and clashed with one another.

For the past three years, the governor of Kallen City had been Baron Hectorv Ofnir of Lent. That was right—the baron's fief was not Kallen, but Lent Town on the Altus Plateau. As mentioned before, although the Ofnir family had been famed for military achievements for generations and could be called one of the dynasty's foremost meritorious noble houses, its political enemies were likewise colossal powers with powerful backgrounds. They could tolerate an opponent temporarily holding some key post, but they would never easily allow Ofnir to take root and grow here.

Since the War of Unification, this political rule had sunk deep into this land along with the expansion of the Golden Dynasty. Even if the baron himself was extraordinarily brave, and even if he had two elder brothers serving respectively as Leyndell's municipal inspector and deputy commander of the Northern Legion, he was still nothing more than a spray of foam in this whirlpool.

"Has Clareville already brought the people from Sky City to the camp?" Hectorv stood atop the city wall, gazing eastward, his back to the scout who had hurried back.

It was nearly dusk. The rosy light fell over the baron's hard beard and hair and rough skin, casting them in an ocher hue close to that of the city wall. Coupled with his extraordinarily imposing build, he seemed like a stone statue hacked and hewn by blade and axe, fearsome to behold.

"Yes," the scout reported with a bow. "On the way to the camp, His Highness Lucia even specially invited the chief steward to ride alongside him. The two seemed to be conversing quite happily..."

"Hmph. He always manages to find common cause with those monsters!" Deep disdain showed in Hectorv's eyes. "The situation has clearly been so tense these past few days, yet we still have to take out huge amounts of supplies to receive those people with all due ceremony. If not for—"

Halfway through, he abruptly cut himself off stiffly, waved his hand in irritation, and said, "Forget it. All of you, leave!"

The scout and the two guards nearby seemed to have been pardoned from death. After saluting, they quickly withdrew.

These days, everyone knew that the newborn ancient dragon prince was coming to their kingdom as a "hostage," so none of them regarded him as an existence as noble as the current demigods. But a demigod was a demigod in the end. Some overstepping words were not things even Baron Hectorv was qualified to say aloud, and as subordinates, they had even less courage to hear them.

"Wait," Hectorv called after a guard who had not yet gone far. "When Clareville returns, tell him to behave himself and stay in the city for the next few days. If I catch evidence of him colluding with those bandits, he knows the consequences!"

"As you command." The guard groaned inwardly, but he could only feign calm and accept the order, already starting to calculate how to relay this warning, which was practically a threat, to the chief steward.

At the same time, in the temporary camp more than ten li east of the city, the Sky City delegation had finished settling in under the guidance of a small number of Kallen guards. After the experience of being ambushed by a Godskin Apostle the previous day, the defenses around the camp's perimeter had been built even sturdier this time, and the number of night-shift rotations had fully tripled. For an ultra-elite force made entirely of Storm Knights and Wyvern Warriors, defenses of this level were already enough to handle a small-scale war.

A bonfire had already been lit in the open space before the royal tent. After Clareville made simple arrangements for the various matters of the camp handover, Lucia pulled him over for a casual chat, while Ekzykes and Guerel sat to Lucia's left and right respectively as guards.

"Oh? Sir Clareville used to be a perfumer in Leyndell?" Lucia raised his brows slightly.

"In answer to Your Highness," Clareville said with a respectful nod, "my teacher was a court perfumer. From the age of twelve, I studied perfumery under him. When I was twenty-two, my teacher passed away, and I inherited his mantle, working as a perfumer in the royal capital for more than ten years. Until five years ago... because of certain matters, I was demoted to Kallen. Later, by the trust of the city's people, I barely managed to become this term's chief steward."

A strange look crossed Lucia's face after he listened, and he pressed, "Since you were the direct disciple of a court perfumer, Sir Clareville, your perfumery must have been quite outstanding back then. I have heard that Her Majesty Marika has always valued talent, so how could she have easily demoted you away from the royal capital?"

"Of course," he added with an apologetic smile, "I am only curious. If I have offended you, Sir Clareville, you need not answer."

"Your Highness is too serious," Clareville said, appearing rather calm. "Since Your Highness has asked, how could this official have any reason to refuse an answer?"

An almost imperceptible bitter smile flashed across his face as he continued, "In truth, it is simple enough. Back then in Leyndell, I saved someone I should not have saved—or rather, a misbegotten."

"I heard that some important person in the royal capital wanted him dead, but when he was on the verge of death, I saved him. After that, I was probably supposed to be casually erased by that important person along with him. But later, an edict suddenly came from the palace, and people were sent to take that misbegotten away. I somehow survived by luck, and a few days later, I received the transfer order dismissing me from my position and sending me to Kallen."

"Do you still remember that misbegotten's name?"

"He did not say, and this official did not ask... I treated too many people back then. I could not remember that many names."

Lucia sighed inwardly. In the royal capital, Leyndell—that holy land beneath the Erdtree—misbegotten and omens mostly suffered inhuman persecution. Even the two demigods born to Queen Marika herself could not escape the fate of being imprisoned in the sewers. And those willing to see them as humans and spare no effort to help them were probably only a small number of pure and passionate perfumers.

After a moment of silence, he said, "According to what Sir Clareville says, you have been in Kallen for five years. Have you ever started a family here?"

On the way to the camp today, he had merely asked Clareville about the situation in Kallen City, including the recent demi-human rebellion that had everyone on edge, and he had often sought his opinion on Hectorv's methods of governance. By now, Lucia had already formed a general judgment in his heart, and feeling that the atmosphere was rather heavy, he had only asked offhandedly, intending to express a little concern.

Who would have thought that as soon as those words came out, Clareville's expression suddenly darkened. He raised his head, which he had kept lowered more or less deliberately, and looked straight into Lucia's eyes.

The daylight was dim. In the flickering firelight, the face of this man past forty was like a withered piece of rotten wood. Only those eyes, reflecting flame and ash, flickered faintly, as if straining to discern something.

After a while, he lowered his eyes. His lips moved several times before he said hoarsely, "This official once adopted a daughter. She died last year."

This time, Lucia's lips moved slightly, but he could not bring himself to ask anything.

Not long after, as she watched the man's dejected back recede beneath the full moon, Guerel, standing beside Lucia, could not help asking, "That was just an ordinary human. What exactly does Your Highness need to confirm so badly that you even sent Ekzykes to follow him all the way?"

"He wants to use me to kill Hectorv, and I now intend to save his life—did you not see that?" Lucia turned to look at her.

The dragon girl, who had originally looked displeased, froze on the spot when she heard this, her valiant brows and eyes filled with confusion.

"Huh?"