That hand, covered in age spots, did not strike him; it merely came to rest gently on the crown of his head.
"Uncle?"
Léonard's voice carried a hint of joy; his uncle truly did love him after all.
Old Cromwell did not speak.
His palm pressed against his nephew's blond hair, slowly sliding down to cover those golden-brown eyes.
Then, his fingers tightened with brutal force!
This old Adventurer, who in his youth had traversed The Chasm alone and hunted the Cryo Hypostasis on Dragonspine, still possessed enough strength in his hands to crush an adult's skull, even now with his hair and beard turned white.
Click! Click!!
A loud explosion of sound.
Léonard's body went limp.
Old Cromwell propped one hand against the edge of the fireplace, his knees slowly buckling as he knelt on the ground.
Tears welled up from his sunken eye sockets, sliding down the furrows on either side of his nose and dripping onto Léonard's gradually cooling face.
He did not cry out loud.
He only kept his mouth open, gasping silently like a fish stranded on land.
A long time passed.
"...Did you capture it all?"
His voice was as rasping as sandpaper.
In the corner of the study, the heavy velvet curtains trembled slightly.
A youthful face peeked out, wearing the grey-blue uniform of an intern reporter for The Steambird, with the latest model of Kamera hanging from his chest.
Parker's face was deathly pale, and the hand holding the camera shook like a leaf in the wind.
"I... I captured it. The whole process, from when those nobles entered the door until now, I captured everything..."
Old Cromwell gave Parker an approving smile, then looked down at his nephew's pupils, which had already dilated.
There was still a trace of an emotion lingering within them that he could not decipher.
Was it unwillingness?
Was it resentment?
Or was it relief?
No one would ever know.
"You did well."
Old Cromwell pushed himself up from the fireplace and slowly stood.
The wound on his abdomen was still seeping blood, soaking through his brocade vest and flowing down his pant leg, forming a small pool of dark red on the gold-woven carpet.
He did not bandage it, nor did he even cast a glance down at it.
"Take the Kamera and follow me."
Parker followed him, trembling with fear.
Before walking out of the study, Old Cromwell glanced back.
The fire in the fireplace had gone completely dark.
Léonard lay on his side in the shadows, his blond hair disheveled and his cloak crumpled into a ball, looking just like he did at five years old when he first fell off a horse and lay on the ground crying.
I'm sorry, child.
But dying at my hand means you at least won't suffer any pain.
Old Cromwell wanted to explain it this way, but he opened his mouth and found himself unable to say anything.
He turned around.
The study door slowly closed behind him.
——
The chaos at the Opera Epiclese continued.
The young Guard was still brandishing his sword, roaring frantically at Ganyu and accusing him of a "Liyue conspiracy."
The soldiers of the Equitable Judgment pretended to be stone statues.
Neuvillette's face was so grim it had turned black.
Just then—
"Please, everyone, step aside."
An aged, dignified voice rang out from behind the crowd.
Everyone subconsciously turned their heads.
Old Cromwell stood at the bottom of the steps of the Opera Epiclese.
His dark grey brocade vest was mostly soaked with blood, his silver-white hair at the temples was messy, and the tear stains on his face had not yet dried.
He clutched a stack of photos that were still warm.
Behind him followed an intern reporter who was shaking like a leaf.
Old Cromwell walked step by step until he was in front of King.
Then he knelt down.
He lowered his head and held the stack of photos high above his head with both hands.
"Sinner."
His voice was hoarse, yet it clearly reached every corner of the courtyard.
"Louis Cromwell, thirteenth head of the Cromwell Family."
"To Lord King, to Lord Furina, to Fontaine—"
He paused.
"I beg for the death penalty."
The entire place fell into a dead silence.
Neuvillette's pupils constricted sharply.
He recognized this old man.
The helmsman of the oldest noble family in western Fontaine, the chief consultant of the Noble Council.
Cromwell did not look at Neuvillette; he had always looked down upon this useless person who possessed power and authority yet could accomplish nothing.
"I am the one who orchestrated the framing of the Liyue envoy."
"This Guard is someone I planted on the periphery of the Opera Epiclese."
He paused.
"Beyond this, I have committed countless other crimes."
"Human trafficking, ranging from three thousand to five thousand people annually, primarily sold to the laboratory of the second Fatui Harbinger, [The Doctor], for nineteen years."
"Embezzlement of the earthquake relief funds for Seven Waters Town, totaling 860 billion Mora, resulting in a post-disaster famine death toll of 10,037."
"A private weapons trade agreement reached with the ninth Fatui Harbinger, [Regrator], reselling Fontaine's standard military equipment to Snezhnaya in exchange for the nobility's monopoly over the southern shipping routes, lasting five years."
Old Cromwell finished speaking.
He placed all the photos and a stack of accounts compiled overnight together on the stone steps in front of him.
Then, he prostrated himself again.
His forehead touched the ground.
"Lord King, here is the evidence of other families' participation in these crimes."
"Under my leadership, the Cromwell Family has committed every imaginable evil; our sins are profound, and ten thousand deaths would not be enough to atone for them!"
"But I beg you, in consideration of my voluntary surrender today and my disclosure of the remaining accomplices."
"I implore Lord King to spare the lives of the women and young children of the Cromwell Family."
"They have not yet participated in the crimes and have not committed evil."
"If they can be spared, they shall never inherit any titles and shall never step foot outside of Fontaine for all eternity."
Neuvillette was somewhat puzzled; as the Iudex, he subconsciously wanted to speak up and explain.
Fontaine law clearly stipulates that those who have not participated in a crime are innocent.
Why go through this unnecessary step?
If the women and children of the Cromwell Family had not participated in the crimes, then they would not have been implicated in the first place.
But before Neuvillette could speak.
A hand was placed gently on his shoulder.
Neuvillette turned his head and met King's indifferent eyes.
Just one look.
And Neuvillette understood.
He closed his mouth and stepped back slightly behind King.
King withdrew his hand and looked down at the old man kneeling on the ground.
"Are you finished?"
Old Cromwell's body trembled slightly, and his forehead pressed deeper into the ground: "This Sinner... is finished."
King did not speak immediately.
He Silently looking at the old man kneeling on the ground.. (He looked silently at the old man kneeling on the ground.)
A demon who trafficked people, embezzled disaster funds, and colluded with external enemies.
His hands were stained with the blood of countless Fontaine citizens.
He was kneeling here now, not because of a sudden realization of conscience, but only because he knew there was no escape.
He only wanted to use his old life to trade for the survival of the "clean" members of his family.
"The premise that misfortune does not reach the family is that the family did not benefit."
"The women and children of your family,"
"Did they not use the Mora obtained from human trafficking?"
Old Cromwell froze.
"...Yes."
"Did they not wear clothes made from the embezzled disaster funds?"
"...Yes."
"Did they not live in manors built with the monopoly profits exchanged for colluding with the Fatui?"
"...Yes."
King nodded.
"Since they enjoyed the benefits, they must bear the responsibility."
"Those who are heinous shall be executed immediately."
"Everyone else, regardless of gender or age, as long as they are guilty, shall be imprisoned in Meropide Hold."
"As for how long—"
He looked at Neuvillette.
Neuvillette immediately lowered his head and answered submissively, "Understood. I will arrange for specialized personnel to conduct an investigation of the Cromwell Family members and determine their sentences based on their level of knowledge and benefit."
Old Cromwell knelt on the ground, his body shaking violently.
His forehead was pressed against the cold stone steps, and tears silently seeped into the cracks of the stone.
Being imprisoned in Meropide Hold was fine.
At least they would still be alive.
He found solace in his misery.
At least they wouldn't have to die at his own hands like Léonard.
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