If the accusation of "harboring the Black Phoenix Army" were proven true, there was a seventy to eighty percent chance of ending up on the gallows.
Charlot was a quintessential transmigrator. In his dictionary, there was no option for surrender or compromise. To him, “You treat me unjustly, I repay in kind.” If someone used such underhanded tactics against him, his response would be merciless retaliation.
Yes, this was Charlot.
And it was very much in line with the nature of a transmigrator.
Currently, Charlot held official positions in both the Ingrima Empire and the Lionheart Empire, so he had little fear of political suppression from the Fars Empire's bureaucracy.
Charlot was now perpetually accompanied by two Saint-rank individuals, along with a cohort of beastmen and pirates who had been converted into Labyrinth Guards, among whom were several with extraordinary abilities.
Earlier, while rescuing injured soldiers on the battlefield, the old Leopardman had disguised himself as an ordinary man and hidden within the ranks. If Andreas were to make a move, the situation would escalate into chaos.
Given Charlot’s private military strength, it would be no easy task to bring him down unless Viscount Constantine personally intervened.
The knights of the enforcement division had not expected Charlot to dispense with argument entirely, choosing instead to take action immediately. Panic broke out among them, and one of the knights shouted, “We are the Central Government Office’s Military Enforcement Division! If you dare to assault our knights, your crime will be compounded!”
Such a minor scene was beneath the notice of Herolf the Golden Ram or Tumisan, and even Charlot himself showed no inclination to get involved.
Instead, Big Bear Kainan charged ahead with his meteor hammer, instantly smashing over ten knights into pulp.
The apparent leader of the group, who had been observing coldly with a grim expression, immediately realized something was amiss when dozens of extraordinary individuals appeared. He shouted, “Stop!”
“Charlot Mecklenburg, stop!”
“I am—”
Before he could finish his sentence, a knight’s lance shot through the air. The assailant was a veteran pirate, once a deputy captain in the Golden Rams Fleet, nicknamed the Sea Serpent King, a thirteenth-rank Transcendent known for his vicious and precise lance techniques. The knight’s unfinished words were cut off as the lance silenced him.
In just a few exchanges, the leader of the enforcement division witnessed his subordinates being slaughtered like livestock.
Both shocked and terrified, he couldn’t fathom how a mere twenty-fifth-level fifth-rank assistant clerk could command such a formidable force of extraordinary individuals.
Charlot himself was equally mystified as to why this man had sought trouble with him. Pointing a finger, he declared, “Keep this one alive!”
The intention behind Charlot’s words wasn’t to kill everyone else.
Charlot wasn’t that ruthless. However, to the leader of the enforcement division, it sounded like a death sentence. He believed Charlot would eliminate every other witness, then interrogate him for information before killing him as well.
The leader hadn’t anticipated that what should have been a simple task would result in running into such an insurmountable obstacle.
He fought desperately against the Sea Serpent King for over a dozen moves, barely managing to catch his breath before shouting, “Charlot Mecklenburg! Even if you kill us, you won’t escape!”
Charlot responded coldly, “I’ll make sure to clean up every trace.”
Turning back toward the military camp, Charlot shouted, “Which brother from the Black Phoenix Army wants the credit for annihilating the enforcement division’s knights?”
Immediately, a voice rang out, “Our Absinthe Knights are willing to claim that honor.”
The leader of the enforcement division inwardly despaired. He hadn’t thought Charlot would go so far as to fabricate a pretext and hand the credit to the Black Phoenix Army.
Already outmatched by the Sea Serpent King, the leader’s momentary distraction allowed the veteran pirate to strike him down with a single lance. Soon, soldiers of the West Wind Knights pounced on him, binding him tightly.
Dragged like a dead dog before Charlot, the enforcement leader was forced to kneel as Charlot asked indifferently, “Who sent you to investigate me?”
The leader replied resolutely, “I wanted to investigate you myself!”
Charlot nodded, his tone calm but chilling as he said, “When I return to Strasbourg, I’ll slaughter your entire family.”
“I’ll make sure not a single living thing remains, not even cats or dogs.”
The leader’s eyes bulged in fury and horror as he shouted, “Charlot, how dare you! Aren’t you afraid of retaliation?”
Charlot smirked faintly and said, “Your family is doomed anyway.”
The leader was overcome with dread. Never had he imagined encountering someone like Charlot, who was even more terrifying than Zimourman Axel Robin.
At least Zimourman didn’t resort to such extreme measures. His killings were confined to duels, not entire families.
Finally breaking under the pressure, the enforcement leader muttered, “I am Yannick Oulei, a twenty-first-level fourth-rank warrant officer of the Military Enforcement Division. The Duchess of Mostar sent me to investigate you.”
Charlot raised an eyebrow in surprise. He was familiar with the Duchess of Mostar, having attended her auction, but the two had no prior dealings. Why would she target him?
Without a word, Charlot glared coldly at the officer.
With their leader captured, the knights of the enforcement division lost all will to fight. One by one, they surrendered, and the soldiers were escorted back to the camp as prisoners. Under mounting pressure, Yannick Oulei confessed quietly, “It’s because you’ve won the favor of Miss Sophia Gallanord. One of the Duchess’s younger relatives was infuriated and wanted to teach you a lesson.”
Charlot hadn’t expected such a convoluted motive. He asked flatly, “Who?”
Yannick Oulei replied, “Alence Cook, a steward in the Central Government Office’s Logistics Division.”
Charlot tilted his head skeptically. “I don’t believe you.”
“I’m giving you one last chance.”
Although the Duchess of Mostar wielded great power, Charlot found it hard to believe she would act against him for the sake of a mere relative. This had to be part of a larger plot. Alence Cook might be the spark, but he was no dynamite.
Sweat poured from Yannick Oulei’s brow as he murmured, “It’s because of the fleet.”
Charlot paused for a moment before realization dawned.
The Duchess of Mostar came from a family that controlled one-sixth of the Empire’s navy. Charlot recalled Annie mentioning this during the auction. The Northern Fleet, the duchess’s hereditary force, did not swear loyalty to the Emperor but to the Mostar family.
Years ago, the Duchess had suffered losses while exploring the Savage Seas, and her fleet, at its peak, had once comprised half the Empire’s navy.
However, following Zimourman’s “disappearance,” the Duchess had rebuilt her forces, selling off large quantities of her assets to commission new warships. While she had yet to regain her former glory, her influence within the Imperial Navy was once again growing.
All of this had been upended by Menielman Soumet...
Menielman possessed three alchemically enhanced warships. While Saint Michael Island and Cappadocia were minor coastal ports, they represented the Empire Navy’s rising power.