Charlot Mecklenburg’s face was instantly drenched in sweat.
He was fully aware of what he had done in Seagull City. Although those were the deeds of his predecessor, they were now associated with him. No matter how eloquent he might be, there was no way he could argue his way out. Suppressing his rising panic, he hesitated before daring to ask, “You knew everything?”
He wrestled with the impulse of blurting out such a reckless question and couldn’t help but worry whether Earl Bretagne had discovered the matter concerning his sister. Yet deep down, Charlot knew that the best outcome for himself would be to never find out whether Earl Bretagne knew or not.
The Earl placed the document in his hands aside and curtly said, “Leave.”
Stepping down from the Dark Luxury, Earl Bretagne’s stern figure seemed to liberate the oppressive and extravagant atmosphere of the carriage.
Charlot followed him down, watching as the Earl returned to his own carriage. After some thought, Charlot gritted his teeth and decided to board alongside him.
Earl Bretagne repeatedly examined the official document in his hands, visibly pleased with the new appointment of his daughter, Annie Bretagne. After all, what father wouldn’t feel pride seeing his daughter’s promising future?
While Earl Bretagne could manage many things for Annie even from the Fars Empire, he couldn’t bypass the necessary years of climbing the ladder. Despite his influence as an Earl, he was not the Emperor. Annie still needed to endure a few more years of service before reaching the Unreachable Class.
But with this document now in his hands, Earl Bretagne could secure Annie an esteemed position immediately after her graduation. This was power. It would allow Annie to outpace her noble peers, gaining an early lead in the political arena.
For Earl Bretagne, this document was a priceless “gift.”
Glancing briefly at Charlot, the Earl silently mused, This young man wasn’t exaggerating. This document alone could make Annie a living legend.
He’s already gained some fame. If he continues to write a few more novels and accumulates reputation over the years, he could enter High Society even without a political title.
Of course, merely being a novelist isn’t enough. However, the fact that he has established himself in the three great empires shows his remarkable capabilities.
Although reluctant to admit it, Earl Bretagne conceded inwardly, My daughter’s taste in men isn’t bad.
This boy is nearly flawless—except for his morals.
As for morals...
Heh. I still want to kill him.
Though the Earl’s murderous intent wasn’t strong, it was enough to make Charlot’s heart race. He couldn’t fathom why the Earl would suddenly consider killing him again. After all, he hadn’t done anything wrong just now.
Earl Bretagne carefully examined the document seven or eight times before finally, with great satisfaction, storing it away. Being a handwritten decree by the reigning Lionheart King Charlie, the document carried immense prestige even among the aristocracy. More importantly, it directly impacted Annie’s future.
Stowing the decree, the Earl asked Charlot, “Where do you plan to settle in the future?”
Caught off guard, Charlot cautiously replied, “That depends on your wishes and Annie’s preferences. I don’t particularly mind where I live.”
The Earl nodded. “You’d best consider settling in Ingrima, the Lionheart Empire, or even the New Continent.”
Charlot was unsure what the Earl meant. By rights, he shouldn’t be encouraging their union. Furthermore, his use of “you” clearly included Annie, implying tacit approval of their relationship.
After some thought, Charlot felt a chill in his heart and softly said, “I will follow your arrangements.”
The Earl lowered his voice. “You might also consider settling in Fars. Who knows what the future holds?”
“Now leave.”
“Yes, my lord.” Charlot quickly exited the Dark Luxury, cold sweat running down his back.
Although Earl Bretagne hadn’t said anything overtly threatening, his subtle warnings hinted at potential dangers should they remain in Fars.
Could it be that Fars might lose the war?
Or perhaps the Bretagne family itself is in peril?
Charlot pondered for a while but couldn’t unravel the mystery. He chose to let it go for the time being.
He issued orders to his subordinates to ensure the Earl was treated with the utmost care and comfort, leaving no room for error. At the same time, Charlot silently felt fortunate that he had left Dolores Soumet and Belisa in Machubi, and sent Anastasia to Behemoth. Otherwise, if Earl Bretagne had encountered those ladies among the ranks of the West Wind Knight Order, his impression of Charlot would have worsened drastically.
...
With Earl Bretagne and Viscount Branton overseeing the frontlines, the war not only failed to stagnate but grew even fiercer. The Black Phoenix Dynasty continued to send reinforcements, raising their number of Saint-ranked warriors to over ten. Meanwhile, the Fars Empire, though no longer receiving direct aid, had welcomed reinforcements from Ingrima, bringing their own Saint-rank count to over ten.
The two armies maneuvered endlessly, clashing repeatedly across the territory of South Seraph in a grinding war of attrition.
Regions in South Seraph were laid waste as the war unfolded, leaving swathes of land desolate. Several cities were utterly destroyed, displacing countless South Seraph citizens.
Charlot, having been forbidden by Earl Bretagne from participating in combat, directed his efforts toward rescuing the displaced citizens. He tirelessly transported South Seraph refugees to the rear and resettled them across various cities.
In Cappadocia, Menielman Soumet, who controlled two cities and three extraordinary warships—two of which were captured Byron vessels—faced an urgent need for population. Charlot’s steady flow of South Seraph refugees met this demand perfectly.
Menielman was also attempting to convert three imprisoned Saint-ranked individuals who had been held captive on Saint Michael Island, but her efforts had so far been unsuccessful.
Charlot, after signing a magical contract with Golden Ram Herolf and claiming Saint Michael Island, had left the region and returned directly to the frontlines in Sedona City, leaving the matter to others.
Although the three Saints had been imprisoned for a long time, Golden Ram Herolf had avoided harsh treatment in hopes of recruiting them. They remained steadfast, however, refusing to pledge loyalty either to Herolf or to Menielman.
Menielman, unwilling to release them, knew the potential threat they posed if freed. They could easily become her enemies.
Occasionally, she thought of Charlot, who had shown a knack for integrating diverse troops and winning Herolf’s allegiance with cunning strategy. If he were here, he could likely resolve the issue. Yet Menielman also understood that with the ongoing war in South Seraph—a conflict rivaling the scale of the Ferranden War—Charlot could not afford to leave the frontlines.
With a sigh, she dismissed the thought.