The afternoon sun was unforgiving, hot and scorching, and yet, the streets of the Imperial Capital were busy.
Many of them were dressed in loose clothing with white scarves over their heads, to shield them from the sun.
The markets by the roadside were selling to customers, undeterred by the sun's heat.
They only had their eyes on the profits they would gain.
It was at this moment that a carriage crossed the road. Inside this carriage were Calvin and Baydar.
"Sir, if you don't mind me asking. What is it that you understood from what my father said?"
Baydar, who seemed to be lost in his thoughts until now, looked at Calvin who was seated opposite him.
"Not much. We should shut our mouths and keep our eyes closed if we don't want to incur capital punishment.
That this… is all just a game to them. The lives of those in Agard, matter not." Baydar stated in an almost detached tone.
As though he was pondering on the words he spoke as he uttered them.
Calvin nodded his head.
That was the same thing he understood from what his father said.
But he didn't want to accept it. Calvin wanted to do all that he could to assist the people of Agard.
"Have you heard the rumor that a priest from the Faceless Order is seeking vengeance?"
Calvin shook his head.
"In a world different from ours, there was once a normal sculptor, a father of two with a loving wife, who one day lost his family mysteriously to a tragedy. This man, consumed by immense anger, veered off the right path and joined the Faceless Order.
Due to his unique talents and rapid growth, he was able to rise through the ranks of the Order.
It is said that he disobeyed Faceless' direct order because it went against his goals.
The first step he needs to take in achieving his goals is to cause great suffering. The second requires the blood of a Paragon." Baydar paused.
"Do you think this Priest Maney is the person this rumor speaks about, right?"
"We can never tell. But one thing is certain, Maney plans to cause great suffering."
Calvin frowned slightly, "Sir, what is a Paragon?"
Baydar opened his lips to speak, but paused. "This question, you'll have to ask your father for an answer. I cannot explain it to you."
Shaking his head, the young man dropped the matter and looked out the window, seemingly lost in his thoughts.
"Don't even think about it." Baydar suddenly said. "Your father might have my head if I allow you to go there," he added after observing the young man's face.
As his commander and captain, Baydar was well aware of how pure Calvin's heart was.
It was almost to the point of blatant naivety sometimes.
There were many times in the past when he would charge into danger to save lives, which was commendable, but many times foolish.
Calvin frowned, "Sir, I wasn't thinking of doing anything."
"Bullshit. Report to the guards' room immediately after we arrive in the office. You are not to leave there until you're called for, and that's an order!"
Calvin's brows shot up, "Sir, isn't that extreme!?"
"Dogshit! It's pretty lax considering what goes on in your head. I should probably arrest you for insubordination!" Baydar was seriously considered.
"What! That's illegal!"
"Not if you commit it in the future. It's called preemptive arrests. Preventing a crime from happening before it happens."
"Sir–"
"Shut up."
***
Meanwhile, in Hesta State. About three days away from Agard on horseback.
Another conversation about Agard was taking place.
In a secluded mansion, overlooking a cliff, Baron Reginald, plump and rosy as always, was standing with his hands clasped behind his back.
Before him were seven men who all looked like they were in their late forties.
Before them was a table adorned with many delicacies and cups filled with wine.
A man with a small scar under his left eye took a glance at Reginald before he picked a napkin and dabbed his lips gently before saying;
"Count John, I'm not doubting your words, but you do realize the consequences of what you're asking us to partake in, right?"
"I do," Count John, Baron Reginald's uncle, nodded lightly. "But, Earl Don, since you're starting this way, I can't help but wonder, is there something you find displeasing in what my nephew reported?"
"Since you asked, I'll point them out. Firstly, the fact that Agard is still under the governance of another lord. Though he may be a Viscount, in Agard, he is no different from a Duke.
So long as he remains there legally, the Ancient Ruins you speak of are his by rite and law. Even his Majesty would be hard-pressed to take it from his hands without adequate compensation."
"That's right, Earl Don," Count John said. "But that shouldn't be an issue to resolve."
"The person you speak of is a Sirdi. Fallen or not, they are not to be messed with lightly by us. Especially since his highness is preparing to step into the race for the crown." Earl Don pointed out.
"I assume that even his highness would be willing to take the risks required for this to smoothly pass." Count John paused and looked at everyone around the table.
"Everyone here knows fully well what a ruin means, right? Those Houses that produced Dukes had all owned a ruin and explored them till there was nothing left. This is a chance for us to attain what they attained there.
And such a matter requires utmost secrecy amongst ourselves. The fact that you were invited here to listen in on this means two things." Count John stood up and walked to where Reginald was standing.
"The first being that you're a trusted and reliable ally. Your growth would automatically mean the subsequent growth of our homes too.
Secondly, we are all under the seventh prince's camp. Contrary to how this will sound, refusing to join us on this will put you in a very difficult position."
The men seated at the other side of the table exchanged looks.
All of them understood the gravity of this information, and none of them would want such a thing to leak.
"The Georgia Family is in."
"We, the Doharian Family, will support this endeavor."
Every one of them, except Earl Don, had taken a stance. Earl Don looked around the table, noticing that every eye was on him. He knew what silence would mean.
After a while, he clenched his fist, still hesitant, but eventually he spoke up. "The Don Family will also partake in this."
Count John and Baron Reginald smiled at the same time, pleased to hear these words.
Oh, my dear Viscount Marcus. Regardless of who's secretly backing you. Your days of peace are numbered.
Reginald thought schemishly.
"Gentlemen, a toast to our future corporation and glory!" Count John began laughing with joy.