I will be crowned king

Wetzler Mansion, evening.

As night falls, the number of pedestrians on the streets surrounding the port area of ​​Beluga Harbor shows no sign of significantly decreasing, and is actually more lively than usual.

After spending at least twice as much time as walking, Anson, who was riding in a carriage, finally arrived outside Mason's house before Lisa was so hungry that she protested.

Glancing at the already busy streets, he patted the head of the girl who was about to fall asleep, put on his hat and got out of the carriage.

Before he even got close to the door, Anson saw a lady in a dark dress greeting guests; and there were no servants around, only her passionate and busy person.

Approximately in her early thirties, with a slightly plump figure and a modest smile, if I remember correctly she seems to be...

"Your Majesty the Commander-in-Chief, and our cutest Miss Lisa!"

Before Anson could recall the other party's name, Mrs. Wetzler, with a smile on her face, rushed to greet her: "Thank you both for coming. It's really an honor for our family to be able to come to the Wetzler mansion again!" "

"This is also our honor." Anson nodded politely: "Only the Wetzler family in Beluga Port can hold such a lively and welcoming party."

"Thanks to you, Commander-in-Chief, and the Luen family, Beluga Port is more prosperous than before!" Mrs. Wetzler gently covered her lips:

"With so many new factories and so many new immigrants, you can make money from anything you do in Beluga Port now; the number of taverns and grocery stores near the port alone has doubled from last year!"

"If that's the case, then you have to remind Speaker Mason to pay attention to the price of food in Beluga Port."

Anson chuckled and said: "Local imported drinks are expensive. Those drunkards who can't satisfy their greed will use all the wheat, potatoes and wild fruits they can find to make wine."

"With the Storm Division patrolling and the Promise Keepers Alliance managing, profiteers would not dare to put their ideas into the city's winter food." Mrs. Wetzler said confidently: "Clovis's army only protects those who abide by the law. , a merchant who cares for the colony.”

Looking at the noble lady's righteous appearance, Anson probably wouldn't have thought that she controlled at least six taverns and two liquor workshops in the city, if it hadn't been for the information sent by "The Good People of Beluga Harbor". At the same time, he also had a hand in the local alcohol trade.

"We have a special gift for you."

As he spoke, Anson gestured to the girl next to him with his eyes; Lisa, who was still yawning, stepped forward and handed a rectangle wrapped in linen to the lady.

"Thank you."

Mrs. Wetzler curtsied and took the gift from the girl with both hands: "Can you tell me what this is, dear Miss Lisa?"

"It's the Sheriff!" the girl emphasized, taking this title very seriously.

"This is a painting that little Baekeland just completed recently." Anson explained:

"We were at Blackreef Harbor at the time. He and his master David Jacques painted several works on the theme of the victory of Blackreef Harbor. This is just one of them."

"Right now, he should follow David to Gray Dove Castle to paint a commemorative painting for the latest Confederation Supreme Council; in one month at the latest, he will follow the remaining army back to Beluga Port."

At that moment, the expression of Mrs. Wetzler, who was holding the oil painting in both hands, changed slightly, and she pursed her lips slightly as if she was restraining something.

But she soon returned to normal, holding the painting wrapped in linen to her chest, and looked at Anson solemnly:

"Your Excellency Commander-in-Chief, I...I simply don't know what to do to repay your kindness."

"Dear Mrs. Wetzler, you don't owe me anything." Anson smiled lightly: "Whether it is Speaker Mason or the future great artist Baekeland, the key to the rise of the Wetzler family is to be able to seize the opportunity at the most appropriate time. A fleeting opportunity.”

The lady said no more, just hugged the painting tightly.

Anson held on to the brim of his hat and saluted, and led the two girls who didn't know whether to bow or beat their chests in salute. The last two girls did both through the gate and walked into the mansion.

At this time, the banquet has just begun. From the front garden to the living room with the door open, you can see all kinds of figures - some are wearing standard black woolen windbreakers and silk hats, the standard local rich dress; some are obviously more brightly dressed. It is smaller and thinner. It is obvious that it has just arrived at Ice Dragon Fjord from Beigang or other foreign ports.

Members of Parliament, local wealthy businessmen, manor owners, wealthy new immigrants...the most wealthy and powerful group of people in Beluga Port are indeed included.

It's just that there are so many guests, which are obviously beyond the upper limit that Wetzler's house can accommodate. Even the originally spacious garden seems a little crowded. From time to time, you can see servants smiling apologetically while flying among the crowd carrying trays. The shuttle figure.

Due to the dense crowd and the dim light of the night, no one recognized the guy leading the little girl, wearing a simple black high-collar windbreaker and a half-top hat, who was the commander-in-chief of the garrison of Beluga Port...here. Anson has a lot of conveniences.

Relying on the Conjurer's keen sense of distance and insight, he soon found one of the "targets".

The dark fedora and long scarf completely covered the delicate face and the extremely conspicuous long golden hair; if it weren't for the extremely familiar pair of lake-blue eyes, he wouldn't even be able to determine the other party's identity immediately.

And just when Anson was aware of it, the other party also noticed his figure; holding a glass of light beer, he walked quietly from the shadow of the treetops to him, touched his chest and saluted:

"Good evening, Your Excellency Commander-in-Chief."

"Good evening, Sir Carnot."

Anson responded lightly: "Is he here?"

"You just arrived not long ago, you are only fifteen minutes ahead of him." Carno nodded slightly, his clear eyes pretending to be casually browsing the surroundings vigilantly, and then said softly:

"This is not the place to talk."

Anson nodded expressionlessly, raised his hand and made a "please" gesture, indicating to the other party to lead the way.

The two followed Carnot through the garden and quietly entered the living room while the servants were delivering desserts; except that half a dozen lemon cakes were missing from the tray, no trace was left.

As they walked up the stairs, they saw Derek, who was wearing a dark green coat and most of his face covered by a fedora and scarf, guarding outside a door. The moment he saw the figure next to Carno, his pupils suddenly shrank, as if he was injured. The ferocious beasts are aware of similar people entering their territory.

But the next second he returned to normal, and opened the door for Anson with a cold hum.

For the Wild Hunt knight who almost had his head blown off and saw his companion shot in the head with his own eyes, Anson just smiled lightly and raised his hand to reach for the door handle.

Just when the two were about to walk into the door, Derek suddenly raised his hand and stopped Lisa next to him.

"Sorry." Carno's words sounded in the corridor at the same time:

"This meeting can only be between you and him. Commander-in-Chief, please understand."

"If you insist, I don't care."

Raising his hand to press the shoulder of the girl who was about to draw his gun, Anson smiled at the two of them: "No matter what happens, a group of people will not make the same mistake three times - two of them were in the same place. place."

As soon as he finished speaking, Derek, who had a sharp gaze, was instantly blocked by Carno. His expressionless face seemed to say, "I don't know what you are talking about." He raised his hand and reached towards the door:

"please."

Anson nodded slightly and gave the girl next to him a look. After receiving the "signal", Lisa wiped the cake from the corner of her mouth and walked towards the stairs very obediently.

Under the gaze of two pairs of strange eyes, Anson opened the door alone and walked into the room prepared by the other party in advance.

boom--

The door closed softly behind him. Anson stood there and took a look: the soft carpet, the fire pit, the half-protruding window sill, the oil paintings on the wall, and the wooden cabinet filled with books, which was a little messy and stuffed underneath. A writing desk with two cabinets...the speaker's study of Beluga Harbor was displayed in front of him.

"I didn't expect you would use such a 'special' way to convey your sincerity to us."

Soft words sounded in the corner of the study. Ian Clemens, who was sitting on the carpet next to the fire pit with his back against the bookcase, raised his head and smiled sincerely at Anson, with a cup of open book spread out in his arms.

Judging from the cover, it should be "The Life of Saint Isaac."

"To be honest, we even had doubts at the beginning; but Carno convinced us that this was the signal you sent - the result was really as expected." Ian continued, without standing up:

"You have really increased the risks of our actions."

"There's not much risk, right?" Anson looked around again:

"Being able to borrow the private study in Wetzler's residence from Mason, it seems that your relationship with him is still very good."

"You guessed it wrong. Since Harold died in the warehouse, the distinguished Speaker Mason has never contacted us again - he even secretly hired adventurers to hunt us down."

Ian smiled bitterly, and then a playful expression appeared on his face: "But even unwelcome guests can still be entertained by the host as long as they are at the right time and place."

"Especially in a location that this guest is familiar with." Anson added without missing a beat:

"If I guessed correctly, when you were ambushing me, Sir Carno should have been in this study, monitoring every move of me and Mason...right?"

"You are still very hostile to us, Lord Anson Bach; I can understand why, but it is really unnecessary."

Ian sighed lightly, his expression looking very regretful: "To be honest, after the previous lessons, we really don't want to be enemies with you at all now; but many things are not something we can control. .”

"You can." Anson interrupted:

"You are the leader of the Faithless Knights, and you are fully capable of doing anything."

"That means betraying all the members of the Knights and our masters, the Crecy family, and becoming an unpardonable traitor."

Gently closing the book in his hand, his expression became solemn: "That will be an extremely difficult step for those of us."

"Not to mention that the Cressy family knows all the members of the Knights, all of us are on the hunting list of the Church of Order, and the use of black magic ensures that no one can defy the will of the Cressy family, and we are also on each other. Also keeping surveillance..."

"Our heartfelt loyalty alone will not allow us to commit such a shameful act of betrayal!"

What Ian Clemens said was reasonable and well-founded. He was neither humble nor arrogant, and he had a dignified appearance. He vividly displayed a loyal image of being loyal to his master and not afraid of power.

It must be said that Anson was so familiar with this image that he understood the price proposed by the other party as soon as he opened his mouth and confirmed the most critical part of it.

"Black magic - if I remember correctly, the effect of black magic should have distance and time limit, right?"

"This is your ignorance, because suggestive black magic does not have such disadvantages." Ian explained, and the serious expressions of the two seemed to be discussing academic topics:

"By casting spells on a group of willing, or at least superficially willing, people at the same time, and then through constant repair and emphasis over the years, and finally using the influence of constant contact between groups, a black magic can be maintained semi-permanently."

"In this case, unless you escape alone and are never discovered, the effect of the curse will gradually fade and you will eventually get rid of it completely."

It is obviously impossible to do this, because Phil Cressy knows the details of all of them, and at the same time, the entire Faithless Knights are on the blacklist of the church. Once they escape, there will be no place for them in the old and new worlds. .

Anson calmly walked to the fire pot, took a chair and sat down, pretending to think deeply: "But all black magic, whether direct mind reading and illusion, or suggestive curses and hypnosis, once the caster If I die, it will immediately become invalid."

"To be more precise, it is temporarily out of control." Ian added:

"Suggestive black magic has a certain lag. Even if the target is killed, as long as it is repaired in time before it completely fails, and the person who is cast is willing, the original effect can still be restored."

"But in any case, this black magic is indeed ineffective in the short term, right?" Anson asked.

Ian nodded solemnly: "Indeed."

"But as the leader of the Faithless Knights, I also have the important mission of protecting this black mage; therefore, no matter how hard you force me, I will not reveal his whereabouts and details to you!"

"And I never thought I could get any answers from you. After all, you are indeed an outstanding and loyal leader." Ansen also looked at him seriously and nodded slightly.

In the quiet study room, the two people looked at each other in silence for a long time, and unconsciously raised the corners of their mouths.