The rain started to get heavier.
The cold air brought with it an even colder rain. According to the weather in this area in previous years, this might be the last rain before snow. The Kant Hill had always been the place with the heaviest rainfall in the whole southern region, and this time was no exception.
The raindrops had already formed a curtain of rain, hanging in the sky along with the wind, splashing in the wilderness, in the town, and on the outer wall of the ancient castle of the Kant Family. The rainwater gathered into a stream, flowing down along the dark red spire and the black outer wall that had been mottled by the erosion of time, and showing a shiny texture like black oil in the increasingly dim sky.
However, the thick outer walls of the castle isolated the sound of wind and rain from the outside, as well as the ever-increasing cold. In the hall of the castle, the magic crystal lamps illuminated every corner. The usual scene where even when the lamps were fully lit had somehow disappeared. Now, the entire castle was brightly lit under the illumination of the magic lamps. In addition to the blazing fireplaces and braziers everywhere, the entire castle was filled with a bright and warm atmosphere.
The servants were working hard to wipe the tables, chairs, lampstands, and statues everywhere, so that all these historical and glorious things of the family shone in the light. They were talking about the increasingly cold weather outside, the harvest of crops and herbs in the territory this year, and the distinguished guest that the Viscount was going to entertain today. The whole castle had been cleaned since two days ago, and everything was brand new. The guest was not an ordinary person.
Then they saw the old steward of the castle, the old but vigorous Mr. Carter, running down the stairs in the hall, followed by the head of maids and footmen. They ran across the hall like a gust of wind and ran to the door. The head maid was shouting to the clumsy maids, "Hurry up and put away the buckets!" "Don't leave the cloth on the table!" "Silly girl, go back to the kitchen! Don't let the Duke see a lowly maid in a dirty dress standing in the hall, do you understand? "" Everyone, go back to your positions! The guest is here! "
Viscount Viktor Kant walked down the stairs from the second floor. When the butler was about to touch the door, he happened to be standing in the center of the hall. This position allowed him to welcome the distinguished guest with open arms in the most appropriate way. It would not make the guest wait too long and awkward, and it would not make the owner of the castle look like an eager servant.
The old butler came to the front door and took out a handkerchief to wipe his hands. At the same time, he silently counted the time in his heart. According to the time when the guards in the tower delivered the message and his own movement speed, he estimated when the knocking would sound.
When he silently counted to thirty, there was a knock on the door.
He couldn't let a distinguished guest like the duke knock on the door a second time, even if it was just the duke's coachman or guards. But he couldn't open the door immediately, as it would be improper. So, Carter counted to three in his mind. Before the second knock came, he ordered the soldiers on both sides of the door to turn the wheel.
The extremely heavy "door" that could withstand eighty-two battering rams opened under the force of the hinges and the wheel. The heavy creaking sound seemed to carry the dignity of the Kant family for three hundred years.
And a man with a dignity of seven hundred years walked through the door. The cold wind and rain behind him swept into the hall.
Immediately, a servant came forward to take the cloak or hat off the guest, and a handyman ran out to receive the carriage parked outside. Gwen walked into the main hall of Castle Kant with Amber and Knight Philip. He saw an old noble with almost all white hair and many age spots on his face. He was wearing a black and red long coat, and he opened his arms to welcome him. This Viscount Viktor Kant was older than he thought, but his legs were still very good.
"Ah, today, this castle welcomes the most distinguished guest in history, a living legend!" Viscount Kant said loudly. "I'm sorry to have to let you visit me in such bad weather. If only I had a spell to control the weather."
"Actually, I like rainy weather very much." Gwen did not accept the viscount's hug, but only shook his hand. It was not indifference, but a rule between a high noble and a low noble: the low noble must show a certain degree of enthusiasm and respect, but unless both parties had a clear subordinate relationship, the high noble must not accept it, but should return a certain degree of politeness. These messy traditions were simply troublesome to Gwen, but at this time, it would not cost him anything. "Before the rain came, I saw the fertile land of Kant. After the rain, I saw a good rain scene. It's quite worth it."
"It's best that you're satisfied." Viktor Kant smiled calmly, like a normal old gentleman with good upbringing. "I've prepared a welcome banquet for you in the dining hall behind this hall."
Amber had been standing behind Gawain with her head lowered. She was not used to such a solemn and "aristocratic" setting, so she kept quiet, which was rare for her. However, when she heard the word "eat," her ears betrayed her. Her pair of pointed ears, which originated from her elven bloodline, immediately trembled and spun around her head like a radar, as if searching for more information related to "eating."
Gwen, on the other hand, smiled and nodded while secretly looking at the old viscount in front of him.
Old, but still healthy. His smile was calm, and his temperament was gentle with a hint of relaxation. There was no trace of a cultist on him at all.
But this was not a basis for judgment.
He smiled and accepted the old viscount's invitation to the banquet. He led Amber and Knight Philip into the depths of Kant Castle.
…
At the same time, in the White Silver Fortress in Saint Sunil, the old King Francis II was frowning as he looked at the secret letters in front of him.
These secret letters were from the "Royal Faction Nobles" who were directly conferred by the king all over the kingdom, including the territories of the three border grand dukes. Or to put it more directly, they were "spies". This system, inherited from the founding of the kingdom, had been going on for seven hundred years. It was an important part of the Ansu royal family's control over the whole country. The civil strife in the Moon Mist and the "illegitimate child weakness" of the Second Dynasty had once made this system ineffective. But after a hundred years of reconstruction, especially with the compromises made by several dukes for the stability of the kingdom, this intelligence network that belonged to the king was still functioning effectively today, just like it did in the First Dynasty.
Most of the nobles who were directly conferred by the king were in the south, and the remaining small number were scattered all over the kingdom. Usually, the secret letters sent back by these spies reported the situation in their respective territories. The situations were very different, and there was basically nothing in common. But recently, the secret letters that came back showed a trend that made Francis II faintly uneasy.
There were more and more reports of the various dark cults active, and it was increasing all over the kingdom.
Even today, these increased reports accounted for less than ten percent of the kingdom's total, but they were spread so widely that it was enough to make the old king worried.
Ansu did have a rotten system, but the king was basically a smart man.
Now, in front of him was a secret letter from Viscount Andrew Leslie in the south. The contents of this secret letter were more important than the other nobles' reports:
There were Wasteland cultists in Tanzania Town. The cultists had once infiltrated the castle and used witchcraft to control some of the people. Fortunately, Duke Gwen Cecil came to their aid, and the duke eradicated the cultists.
The old king did not know that Viscount Andrew Leslie had hidden a lot of the truth in this secret letter, such as the Eternal Slate that had fallen into Gwen's hands, and the details of him being controlled by the cultists. He had also consciously lowered the severity of the matter. But even so, the information revealed in this secret letter was enough to make the old king shocked.
The cultists, who only dared to operate in the dark, had now directly invaded the manor of a real noble!
In the past, whether it was sacrificing the living or using the bones of the dead for rituals, it did not make the real nobles nervous, because those acts were done by the 'untouchables'. The cultists seemed to know how to play the game, and had never reached their hands into the nobles' system, but now … the winds had changed.
It happened at this time, when the relationship between Ansu and the Typhon Empire was at its most tense. Francis II was relieved when he knew that the Typhon Empire would not start a war this winter, and thought that he could use this opportunity to further strengthen his border military and lay a good foundation for war. But now, he suddenly felt that the cultists did not want him to have this luxury.
Just as the old king was frowning, a warm feeling suddenly filled the room.
He raised his head in surprise and saw Veronica, who was dressed in a white priest's robe, walk into the room.
The 'Saintess Princess' smiled and acted a little coquettishly as she walked up to her father. "Father, I have asked Lord Eden, and he said that you are still in the study."
"Veronica, my daughter … Why are you here today?" Francis II looked at Veronica, a little surprised. Although his daughter still retained her status as a princess, she had officially converted to the God of Holy Light. She spent most of her time in the Cathedral of Holy Light, and rarely returned to the White Silver Castle.
"Have you forgotten? Today is the day I left the cathedral and came to the castle to see you, "Veronica said with a smile, drawing the emblem of the God of Holy Light on her chest." Serving the Lord, but also not forgetting to serve the parents. This is the doctrine of the Holy Light. "
"Look at me," the old king could not help but smack himself on the forehead. "I remembered the wrong day!"
"It's okay. The burden of the kingdom is on your shoulders. You should put the responsibility of the king first," Veronica said, and at the same time, she noticed the tired look on Francis II's face. She raised her hand and summoned a holy light, relieving her father's mental pressure with a divine spell. "Father, what happened?"
Francis II sighed. "The cultists, the Order of the End, the Order of the Eternal Rest, and the Blackstone Sect, the Abyssal Followers, and other smaller sects … I don't know what's wrong with them, but they're all looking for trouble in the winter."
Hearing the word 'cultists', as a devout believer of the Holy Light, Veronica could not help but frown. "May the Holy Light save the poor people who have been harmed by the thugs … The cultists are always spreading everywhere. Unfortunately, except for the Church of Holy Light and the Church of the God of War, the divine spells of other sects are too weak to deal with the evil spells of the cultists."
Francis sighed. "Don't worry, those evil people will not dare to cause trouble in the royal city."
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