I will be crowned king

Soon, the entire banquet reached its peak with thunderous applause.

The elf ambassador Maurice Périgord held a glass of wine and walked gracefully among the guests. He humbly accepted everyone's praise for his "declaration of peace" and conquered those who had just spoken with humor and wit. Young ladies entering social situations.

He was so proud tonight.

The Ring of Order is above. If it weren't for the lack of money to bribe the elf king's servants, how could he, an elf with seven-eighths "pure blood", be willing to serve as an ambassador to the capital of the old enemy of the Ethel elf?

But no one expected that the empire would suddenly declare war on the Kingdom of Clovis.

No one thought that Clovis, who had local advantages and fortresses, would be retreating in front of the empire!

Maurice Périgord, who was originally fearful that the Kingdom of Clovis would invade Iseul and that he would be taken hostage or even beheaded, found that overnight the entire Clovis upper class was trying to please him.

After figuring out the cause of the matter, he began to "walk around" and conveyed to these Clovis people on various occasions "how the Ysel elves love peace", and then received a large sum of money in return.

Tonight's banquet was also one of his "routine visits". The only slight difference was that the archbishop of the Kingdom of Clovis was present this time.

Lord Luther Franz was very generous. The "meeting gift" alone was one hundred thousand gold coins, and he hinted that he could get more after the event was completed... But the problem was that he had to make a certain commitment.

This was really embarrassing for Morris. What made it even more difficult for him was that the archbishop actually persuaded the Clovis people to stop expanding the railway and lay off 4,000 people.

With a slightly tipsy look on his face, the funny and dignified elf ambassador made the guests laugh with an imperial joke, and then walked out of the crowd calmly.

Before leaving, he did not forget to secretly signal to several young and beautiful girls, hinting to them that "he does not know how to lock the door", and then quietly left the banquet hall.

Walking into the specially prepared lounge of St. Isaac's College, Morris, who was sitting at the desk, took a letter.

He planned to tell the Elf King exactly about the recent turmoil in Clovis, and then brag about how he "argued with reason", causing the Clovis people to "unwillingly" reduce their investment in railways; he advised His Majesty to " The demands of the empire are in vain, and they are waiting for the opportunity." When the riots in Clovis City become uncontrollable, they will "raise the banner of justice", fight side by side with the imperial army, and take the opportunity to claim Clovis's southern territory...

"Dong dong dong!"

A somewhat urgent knock on the door interrupted Morris, who was getting more and more excited while writing with the help of wine.

The elf ambassador was a little unhappy about being interrupted, but suddenly he thought that there might be a smart little girl who understood his hint, and started to think about it again.

The developed textile industry and chemical industry in the Kingdom of Clovis have made the girls here much more interested in makeup and dressing up than the traditional Yser elves. The elf ambassador who has lived here for several years has felt the romance across races.

"Ahem...please come in."

After clearing his throat and hurriedly putting away the letter, Morris stood up from behind the desk and took a bottle of fine red wine as bright as blood from the wine cabinet on the side.

A young bachelor walked in through the door. Morris, who was slightly disappointed, frowned slightly; although this bachelor looked quite handsome, he had no hobbies in that area.

"Sorry, may I ask who you are..."

"You can call me Bronn. I am a student of Professor Mace Honnard."

The young bachelor put his hands behind his back, bowed slightly and said, "Excuse me, do you have time for a cup of coffee now? The professor hopes to have a private chat with you."

"I'm sorry, but I don't know Professor Mace Hornard." The elf ambassador, who felt a little confused, frowned slightly, but still maintained his usual demeanor:

"Please tell this professor that I..."

"boom."

Before he finished speaking, the expressionless Bloen had already walked into the room and blocked the door.

The tipsy Morris woke up instantly, put down the bottle of wine with his right hand and held down the gun on his waist:

"What do you want to do?"

Bloen didn't answer his question, put his hands behind his back, and walked slowly.

"call--"

Morris stood up suddenly and opened his dress jacket with his right hand, revealing the handle of the gun tightly held in his hand:

"Mr. Blown, I'm warning you to stop. I don't think we all want to make things uncomfortable, right?"

As if he hadn't heard his voice, Bloen was still approaching step by step, and cold sweat slipped from Morris's temples.

"Click!"

The elf ambassador aimed his gun at the young bachelor's figure.

"This is the final warning!" Morris tensed up nervously:

"If you don't stop, I'm going to shoot!"

The figure of the young bachelor paused, his steps hanging in the air.

But just when Morris finally breathed a sigh of relief, he suddenly saw a sneer on the lips of the indifferent Bloen and continued to walk towards him.

Feeling that he had been tricked, the elf ambassador was so angry that he pulled the trigger under the influence of alcohol.

Then... nothing happened.

"this--?!"

The astonished Morris was shocked... No matter how hard he tried, the index finger of his right hand seemed to be out of control and he could never pull the trigger.

Is your body being controlled? !

At that moment, his eyes were filled with astonishment.

Bloen stood in front of the table with his hands behind his back and deliberately pressed the muzzle of Morris' gun with his forehead.

"Ambassador Maurice Périgord, you seem to be surprised." Looking at his expression, Bloen sneered:

"Why are you surprised... Lord Conjurer Maurice?"

"How did you know..."

The stunned Morris blurted out, but immediately stopped and changed his words in the next second: "You madman, this is St. Isaac's College, the territory of the Church of Order!"

"Do you believe that as long as I shout, a judge will rush in and beat you to a pile of minced meat with a musket, and then dig out your brain and heart?!"

"I know."

Bronn said lightly, his ice blue eyes flashing with mocking light, and he gently held the exquisite and patterned gun in the hand of the elf ambassador:

"I even know that there are three Inquisitors lurking in the room next to us, waiting for the moment I use magic to expose myself."

I knew it!

Morris was ecstatic, but he soon realized that something was not right - since the other party knew that he was being targeted, how could he still be himself?

Why didn't the inquisitor next door even react at all when he cast a spell on himself?

"Is this a trap?!"

"clever."

While answering, the young bachelor placed the pistol on the table: "This room was formerly the office of Professor Mace Honnard. It was temporarily requisitioned as a lounge for some distinguished guests because of a banquet."

"The reason is simple...among all the professors, Professor Mace Honnard is the only one who doesn't know how to lock the door."

"Just now, you actually used the professor's pen."

Morris, who looked horrified, still maintained his standing posture with the gun raised - not just his fingers, but now his entire body, except his head, was out of control!

"Come here, there is an old god sect here!"

"Help! Anyone can help me!"

The hoarse shouts echoed in the room, but there was no movement outside the door. The whole room seemed to be isolated from the world.

The elf ambassador became more and more frightened and looked at Bronn who sneered at him in disbelief:

"Could it be that the whole room is a trap set by you? You already knew that I would come in?!"

"No, and I don't know either." The young bachelor shook his head and took out a bottle of potion from his pocket:

"But no one outside can hear you because Professor Mace Honnard's office has special soundproof walls."

"Soundproof wall?!"

"That's right, the high-quality gypsum board and rock wool imported from the Volcanic Islands are used, and the latest wall design is adopted. Even if a grenade explodes in the room, only a small sound can be heard outside."

Playing with the potion bottle in his hand and looking at the psychedelic purple liquid in the glass wall, Bloen smiled coldly:

"Unlike the traditional Old God sect of the Empire and Iserl elves, our Clovis spellcasters respect science while following the will of the three old gods."

"you……"

The horrified elf ambassador opened his mouth. He wanted to say something first but found that his head was no longer under control, and his entire body was already under the control of the other party.

He could only watch as Bloun put the medicine bottle in front of him, took out a glass syringe from his pocket, and looked at him coldly:

"Take this bottle of potion for example - if I open the cap directly and pour it into your mouth, the magical aura will leak out anyway and be noticed by the inquisitors in the next room."

"But if I inject it directly into your vein with a needle, it... can delay the time for three to five minutes."

Seeing the young bachelor using a syringe to extract the medicine from the bottle, Morris, who was almost desperate, felt the hairs on his back stand up one by one, and even lost the courage to resist.

A spellcaster who can imprint magic on a pen without leaving any trace is definitely something that a small third-level conjurer like me can't resist!

The cold potion was injected from his wrist, and he could even see the purple-red liquid flowing along the blood vessels, swallowing his arms bit by bit, then shoulders, chest, torso...

The unspeakable strange feeling enveloped his heart as if it were real. The despair of dying made Morris resist instinctively, and even took the initiative to lift the secret, hoping that the inquisitor outside the house would notice.

But it was a futile struggle after all. He couldn't even stop the flow of the medicine, and the closed door showed no signs of being knocked open.

"Why...kill me?"

Looking at Broun's back as he turned away, Morris, who was lying on the desk and twitching, asked in a hoarse voice: "Don't you know...what would it mean if I died here...?"

Bloen, who was holding the door handle with his right hand, stopped.

He slowly looked back and stared at Morris, who was still struggling to die, with a look that looked at a traitor:

"That...is not a question a true spellcaster...would ask."

As soon as he finished speaking, Bloen slammed the door and left.

………………

"How is it going?"

In the room next to the lounge, Cole Dorian changed his usual playful face and looked at Sera with scarlet eyes with a serious expression: "Is there any abnormal reaction?"

The female judge was silent for a long time, then shook her head hesitantly:

"There are indeed faint traces of magic on Bronn's body, but they are too weak to even use ordinary magic once, and are not enough to be used as evidence."

"Then it's enough to take him away for interrogation, right?"

"The Black Mage already knows that his identity has been exposed. Taking away his most important cronies under the current situation is no different from formally declaring war."

"Declaring war means declaring war. Do we still need to be afraid of a spell caster?!"

"The prerequisite is that neither the Elf Ambassador nor the Archbishop is here."

"So what, not to mention that the elf ambassador might be dead..."

The secondary judge who stopped talking suddenly widened his eyes.

The two people lying next to the door looked through the narrow gap and watched the door of the lounge next door being opened again. The living Maurice Périgord pushed the door open and walked towards the stairs at the other end of the corridor.

The dress on his body looked a little messy, as if it had been severely kneaded, and his drunken face was also a little sluggish. His eyes were half-opened, and he was walking up and down in vain.

Thinking of Bronn who left a few minutes ago, the two inquisitors, a man and a woman, fell into an eerie silence at the same time.

After a while, Cole Dorian said with some embarrassment:

"You said...is it what we think?"

"I don't know what you are thinking." The expressionless female judge said decisively.

"Stop pretending, my Miss Sera Virgil - I only found out after reading your collection of novels!"

"What novel? I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Haha... To be honest, I think that boy named Blown is quite handsome. Could it be that he is your type?"

"Sir Cor Dorian, I really didn't expect you to be not only an idiot, but also a thief and conspiracy theorist!"

"Admit it, you really think so too!"

"I don't know anything about what you're talking about!"

...While the two of them were talking to each other, Lawrence, who had been sitting next to him with his eyes closed and concentrating, suddenly opened his eyes and stood up from the chair:

"Okay, stop arguing!"

"Captain?!" The two of them turned around and said in unison.

"Sierra, go to the lounge to check the situation and see if the other party has left any clues." Lawrence said in a deep voice with a hoarse voice:

"Cole and I will go to the banquet hall. Even if we can't arrest the Black Mage and Bronn tonight, we still have to keep an eye on their every move - evidence is of course important, but if the situation is bad, we can also take direct action if necessary. .”

"We are the Inquisition. We do not fight for a certain kingdom or king. We protect the faith of the entire ordered world!"

"yes!"

The three people with solemn expressions stood up and left, but at the moment they opened the door, a gunshot suddenly sounded from the banquet hall downstairs.

Immediately afterwards, a sharp scream instantly resounded throughout the castle!