"Understood."
Mr. A spoke quietly to Nimrod, then swiftly vanished into the darkness.
Nimrod withdrew his gaze and walked toward the carriage, accompanied by a host of attendants. Beneath the lamplight, his shadow slowly lengthened and merged into the still night.
Tonight, he would direct Qilingus's death and dance amid the torrents of fate.
In Duke Negan's mansion in Backlund's Empress Borough, a grand ball was gradually getting underway.
The ball was divided into two sections. The hall, paved with magnificent stone slabs, served as the dancing area, with Duke Negan's personal orchestra stationed around it; the stairs on either side led up to a gallery encircling the entire second floor.
Guests either held wineglasses as they looked down at the dancing and fencing below or invited ladies to join them for a dance in the hall.
On the other side of the gallery, a pair of double doors led to the ball's second section. Fine wines and delicacies were laid out on long tables, while another orchestra played melodious music for the guests.
Nimrod walked alongside a baron who needed his help but was unwilling to abandon his aristocratic pride and dignity. As they entered the hall, they discussed the matter of a title in low voices. "That's more or less how it stands. I'm willing to put you in touch with Tower Bridge. By New Year's at the latest, you'll be able to reclaim your family's glory-"
"Thank you." Concealing his true feelings, Nimrod smiled and said, "The Fried Family never forgets its friends. Heh, although my family has fallen on hard times, I believe its glory still flows through my veins-"
"I've always firmly believed that." Understanding the implication in Nimrod's words, the baron nodded in satisfaction. He was about to say more when Nimrod gave a