Translator: AnubisTL
Earl Mills stood up, intending to go to the window for some fresh air. But as he turned, his arm accidentally brushed against a delicate bone china teacup on the edge of the desk.
The cup tipped over, seemingly destined to shatter on the floor.
Yet, in the next instant, a steady hand reached out from the side, caught the cup, and smoothly returned it to Earl Mills.
"Thank you," the Earl murmured instinctively.
But before the words had even fully left his lips, his entire body froze. A wave of icy dread shot up his spine, sending a shiver down his skin.
His study was an absolute sanctuary. No servant would dare set foot inside without his summons.
So, the question was...
Whose hand was that?!
Earl Mills gasped sharply, suppressing the cry that nearly burst from his throat. He forced himself to calm down as quickly as possible.
He slowly turned around.
And then...
A young, strikingly handsome face he knew all too well met his gaze.
"Mr. Mills, I trust you've been well?"
The Flower Knight, Charles Haynes, wore the same brilliant smile as always, but his azure eyes held no warmth.
"Charles?! You're safe?!"
After a brief silence, a look of feigned delight spread across Earl Mills' face.
"By the gods! This is wonderful news! I had feared... feared you had met with disaster in the evil dragon's territory."
The Earl spoke with feigned excitement, naturally extending his hand.
He intended to grasp Charles's hand warmly, as he always did, to show his closeness and care. This was his usual tactic for winning people over. A simple touch, combined with the condescendingly gracious posture of a superior, was always enough to move naive young men and earn their favor.
But this time.
Charles Haynes stepped back without a word, his face expressionless, and dodged the Earl's outstretched hand.
The hand hung suspended in mid-air.
The Flower Knight stared at the Earl's seemingly heartfelt expression of joy. Then, he recalled the cold, disgusted, and annoyed voice from the crystal ball communication—the voice that had discarded him like trash.
A useless waste who is of no value! The Albert Family will not spend a single copper coin on him!
The stark contrast made every trace of the Earl's feigned sincerity in Charles's eyes appear utterly hypocritical, contrived, and even nauseating.
"Mr. Mills."
Charles's voice was calm, without a ripple.
"Before I returned, I had a question in my mind that I wanted to ask you in person."
"Oh? What question has troubled you so, my child?"
The Earl's tone remained gentle.
Charles said, "Rhode Albert, Sienna Albert, Sanchez Albert... The three of them, along with many of the private army commanders and elite warriors under your command, all share a common trait."
"They are all orphans, their pasts as clean as a blank sheet of paper."
"The Albert Family has been able to recruit so many warriors who, despite their tragic backgrounds, are both exceptionally talented and willing to die for the family without question."
"Is all of this just a matter of good luck?"
The Flower Knight gazed at Earl Mills, observing his reaction.
"The family operates several charitable orphanages," the Earl replied. "Rhode and the others were indeed helpless orphans, adopted by the family and given education and warmth."
Earl Mills maintained a facade of calm.
He countered, "They are grateful for the family's care and upbringing, so they strive for excellence and pledge their loyalty to the family. What's wrong with that?"
"Is that so?"
The Flower Knight spoke slowly, his voice dropping an octave.
"I returned to the South before Rhode and the others."
"To prevent myself from being blinded by lies again, from being manipulated and deceived, I haven't been idle during this time."
Charles took a small step forward, an invisible pressure spreading out with him.
"I have spent a considerable amount of time and effort, acting as a true detective rather than the naive knight you hoped for, conducting thorough, in-depth, and even dangerous investigations throughout the Albert Family's territory."
Earl Mills's brow furrowed slightly.
"During my investigation, I discovered a rather interesting phenomenon."
"The Albert Family generously bestows various favors upon the commoners in their territory, such as tax exemptions, road repairs, and the distribution of cheap medicines."
"But after every act of kindness, if the beneficiary family had young children, the family's generosity would take a step further."
"They would offer to conduct various innate talent tests for those children, free of charge and with great enthusiasm."
The knight's gaze swept over the earl's jawline, which was beginning to tighten, as he continued: "What's even more interesting is that the public security in your family's territory is, on the surface, truly exemplary. The patrol teams are diligent and responsible, and the crime rate is extremely low."
"However, the frequency of various 'accidents' is unusually high, and they seem to favor those families who have just undergone the tests and whose children are considered to have decent or excellent talent."
"Fires, cave-ins, demonic beast attacks, or even a simple accidental fall into the water... these accidents always manage to create new orphans."
"As a result, the number of orphans in the Albert Territory far exceeds the scope of a normal earldom. It's just a pity that no one usually cares."
As he spoke, the knight took another step forward.
The distance between him and the earl was now less than three feet.
"Mr. Mills."
Charles asked calmly, "Could you explain to me exactly why this is the case?"
Earl Mills's expression finally darkened.
"I have no idea what nonsense you are spouting."
"Charles, I was truly delighted to see you return safely. But these baseless, malicious accusations of yours... they are deeply displeasing!"
His voice was low, laced with reprimand.
"The Albert Family performs acts of charity without expectation of reward, adopting orphans and bestowing grace upon the needy. Yet you defile this kindness with such filthy thoughts! Is this the knightly spirit you swear by—to use it to slander your benefactor?"
As he spoke, his fingers discreetly brushed a gem-encrusted ring.
It was a magical artifact designed to trigger an emergency alarm.
Yet, the surrounding silence remained unbroken. Nothing happened.
The guards bursting through the doors, the flashing alarm lights, the activation of the defense array... none of it materialized.
"Save your effort, Mr. Mills," Charles said, tilting his head slightly. "Whether it is your voice, the magical signal from your ring, or any attempt to probe this space—all have been severed."
"They are trapped here with you, in this spatial cage, unable to reach the shore you so desperately seek."
For the first time, a flicker of terror crossed Earl Mills's face.
"Charles!"
The Earl forced his noble bearing, his voice a low, desperate snarl. "What... what are you trying to do? Have you forgotten the favors I once bestowed upon you?!"
"Who was it that generously funded you when you were penniless and desperate? Who was it that delivered the priceless antidote when you were poisoned and on the brink of death?! Is this how you repay your benefactor—with betrayal and a blade? Is this your knightly virtue?!"
Shring—!
His impassioned words were abruptly cut short by the crisp, cold rasp of metal.
The Flower Knight drew his longsword.
"The debts you speak of, I have already paid in full with my life and my freedom. Now, we are even."
Charles slowly raised the longsword, its tip pointed steadily at Earl Mills' heart.
"The man standing before you now is merely a knight resolved to purge evil and hypocrisy."
Earl Mills backed away step by step, cold sweat beading on his forehead.
"Don't do something foolish, Charles! You've been bewitched by that evil dragon! You've lost your mind!"
"We can talk this out! I promise I can give you a perfect, reasonable explanation for every doubt and suspicion you have! Trust me!"
The Flower Knight turned a deaf ear to his pleas.
He refused to waste another word on the hypocritical earl. He stepped forward, and the longsword in his hand became a streak of cold light, thrusting straight out.
The sword's blade effortlessly tore through the several layers of defensive shields the Earl had hastily conjured, piercing the heart beneath his opulent velvet coat.
Earl Mills's eyes widened in shock, his face a mask of disbelief and the sheer terror of death.
He opened his mouth, seemingly trying to speak, but could only feel his life force draining away like a receding tide. Not a single word escaped his lips, only a series of wet, wheezing gasps.
The Flower Knight slowly withdrew his blood-stained longsword. Watching the Earl's body slump, he spoke one final sentence.
"By the way, the Ironforged King asked me to give you his regards."
The Ironforged King?!
That damned dragon was pulling the strings all along! He was the one who corrupted Charles!
Endless rage and regret instantly flooded Mills's consciousness. His eyes remained wide, staring in hatred and defiance as he collapsed heavily onto the cold, ornate floor.
He died with his eyes open, unable to rest in peace.
The Flower Knight, Charles Haynes, stood silently.
With a flick of his wrist, he shook the last few drops of blood from the blade, then calmly sheathed his sword.
The space around him rippled like water, his figure blurring and turning transparent, melding into the air like a shadow before vanishing completely.
Yet he did not immediately leave the Albert Family Manor.
The Boundary Walker drifted through the rifts in space, a ghost passing silently through the heavily guarded corridors and courtyards of the manor.
He visited the bedroom of Alchemist Sienna, then the bedside of Abjurer Sanchez.
Finally, he stopped in the room of Rune Knight Rhode Albert.
In each room, he left a neatly stacked pile of papers—the truth, laid bare. They were placed silently beside the pillows of the sleeping figures, within easy reach.
Once his task was complete, Charles vanished completely into the folds of space, as if he had never been there at all.
"Who's there?!"
Rhode Albert's eyes snapped open.
The Vicious Wolf General, a veteran of countless battles who had teetered on the brink of death more times than he could count, possessed instincts honed to a razor's edge. Though he couldn't clearly perceive the faint ripple in space, it was enough to jolt him awake. He bolted upright in bed.
The room was empty. There was no obvious sign of an intruder.
Yet his gaze was instantly drawn to the stack of papers that had suddenly appeared on his nightstand.
Rhode's brow furrowed. Wary, he reached for the documents and began to read.
The night was silent, save for the soft rustle of turning pages.
The screening lists for the innate talent tests.
The investigation reports on the "accidental" events.
The hidden clues pointing directly to orders from the family's highest authorities.
Every name, every date—they were like swords, slicing through the blurred fragments of Rhode's childhood memories.
The accident that claimed his parents. The family orphanage that took him in. The indoctrination of gratitude and loyalty... As he read deeper, his pupils constricted sharply, and his facial expression began to shift violently.
From initial confusion, to shock, to an irrepressible rage.
Finally, his face turned a deathly, distorted shade of ashen-green, his features contorted like a completely infuriated wolf.
Just as this surge of emotion was about to erupt, Rhode Albert—the Vicious Wolf General of the Albert Family—slammed his eyes shut.
When he reopened them, all the violent external reactions from moments before were gradually suppressed. The savage, ashen-green contortion on his face slowly faded, his muscles relaxed, and his twisted expression returned to a mask of calm, emotionless stillness.
However.
The very things that had once sustained his life, the beliefs he had fought and bled for, had completely collapsed like a sandcastle, vanishing into smoke. In their place, something entirely different—something dark and potent—was silently sprouting, growing wildly upon the ruins of his loyalty.
It was foreseeable.
With the Patriarch's death and the defection of the once-loyal pillars of the family, the Albert Family would soon exist in name only.
Hardly anyone would believe it:
All of this had begun with a red-iron dragon, a thousand miles away.
(End of the Chapter)
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