Chapter 328: Good News from All Sides

Lady Ropeni Grant watched as Viscount Carol’s figure disappeared through the grand doors leading to the banquet hall. A faint, cold smile slowly curled at the corner of her lips.

She understood perfectly why Viscount Carol had spoken as he did—poison can also be a cure. That was undeniably true. For decades, the Carol family’s domain had controlled the main trade route from the southern territories to the Holy Spirit Plains. If medicinal herbs from the Canton lands or other southern regions were to be sent north, they had to be gathered in Carol’s domain first, then formed into large caravans for transport. Beyond herbs, a significant portion of the South’s resources—common ores, magical materials, furs—also passed through Carol’s checkpoint. From the start, the Carol family had been masters of commerce.

They produced nothing themselves, yet by controlling this vital artery, they reaped enormous profits. The Carols shared a particular mindset: they didn’t care where the goods came from, only whether they could sell them through their hands.

They could do business with Count Hosman and eagerly responded to his calls because he offered magical network technology. The Carol family could sell this technology to the great nobles of the Holy Spirit Plains and make a fortune. But Ropeni was certain of one thing: if the Duke of Cecil were willing to entrust the lucrative alchemical potion trade—practically flowing gold—to the Carols, Viscount Carol would be sitting in the Duke’s audience chamber within four days.

If the roads were good, maybe two.

Viscount Carol had a keen eye and could see how deeply Duke Gawain Cecil’s creations had permeated the South. He sensed danger but misjudged it, believing himself merely a middleman who could stay out of harm’s way. But Ropeni knew better.

What Duke Gawain Cecil was doing wasn’t just about money, nor was it simply about infiltrating or spying on other noble domains. Though she didn’t yet fully understand the resurrected Duke’s ultimate goals or methods, she was familiar with this style of open, strategic plotting—one so blatant that everyone was forced to walk right into the trap.

Her late husband had been much the same.

That was why she understood the true terror of such overt schemes.

Turning away, Lady Ropeni’s hollow, cold eyes fixed on the courtyard’s brilliant lights and the Hosman guards who now carried alchemical potions as routine supplies.

She knew well that with these potions, Hosman’s soldiers already held a massive advantage over ordinary noble mercenaries.

And once the magical network was established and the mines equipped with magical machinery, these soldiers would be outfitted with better, more refined metal swords and armor. The mage towers across the domain would receive a steady stream of magical energy.

Meanwhile, Count Hosman himself would amass great wealth.

That was the most frightening part—no one could refuse Duke Gawain Cecil’s “gift.” Once one person accepted this “poison,” those who refused it would perish sooner than those who took it.

The arrogant Karl Hosman could only see profit, blind to the dagger hidden behind it. But Ropeni had no intention of warning anyone. She knew that even if someone did, the greed-blinded nobles would ignore all danger, convinced that no matter how the situation changed, they still held control.

As for herself, Ropeni wasn’t so sure. After all, compared to the entire South, Duke Gawain Cecil was still too isolated and vulnerable.

…

While the lords reveled in the castle’s banquet hall, celebrations were underway elsewhere. In a side chamber at the southeast corner of the castle, a smaller gathering took place. Scholars and advisors of the Hosman family drank the lord’s gifted wine, enjoying rare sweets and meats amid laughter and cheer.

They had successfully mastered the full technology to build the magical network and had activated the first segment within this ancient castle. These talented minds were richly rewarded and granted permission to drink until dawn—a rare honor.

At the center of attention were two young men, dressed in gray-white cotton robes, one tall and the other short.

A man with a broad forehead approached, raising a glass. “Swearing loyalty to the Hosman family will be the best decision you ever make. Soon you’ll see—the count’s generosity far surpasses that of Viscount Andrew.”

“Talented young men are welcome everywhere,” another scholar said, approaching with the tone of an elder praising juniors. “When the weather warms, I must invite you to my small estate on the outskirts. We have the best honey tea in the region…”

“And two daughters who still need husbands, right?”

Laughter erupted, the mood growing even more jovial.

But the two young men, surrounded by admirers, seemed a bit overwhelmed by the wine. After a while, they grew dizzy and had to step outside for fresh air. No one made a fuss over the “heroes” of the hour; the others continued drinking heartily while the two young men each carried a cup of tea, leaving the side chamber one after the other.

Outside, the tall young man glanced back at the warmly lit porch and chuckled softly. “The ‘full technology’ to build the magical network… do these people really understand what ‘technology’ means?”

“At best, it’s the full craft of building the network,” the shorter man muttered, sober and clear-headed. “But we can’t expect too much—who would have guessed that the simplest hexagon holds the deepest runic laws?”

The tall man smiled faintly at his companion. “After tonight, the magical network will take root all over the South…”

The shorter man returned the smile, raising his cup in a toast of tea. “A song of loyalty.”

“A song of loyalty.”

“By the way, do you know why the lord uses that phrase as the code for field agents?”

“Who knows? But from now on, we must be cautious. Unless necessary, let’s not mention ‘that side’ again.”

“I understand.”

…

Several days later, Amber brought the long-awaited intelligence to Gawain.

“Our people successfully infiltrated Count Hosman’s castle,” the half-elf reported seriously. “Just as you said, the count is trying to get his hands on the magical network technology. He’s gathered the southern nobles, planning to sell the ‘stolen’ network tech to his allies.”

Gawain smiled with satisfaction. “That means everything is unfolding as I planned.”

“Better to steal than buy, but best of all is to fail at stealing…” Amber sighed. She was quick to grasp Gawain’s true intention behind this complicated scheme to leak the technology to the southern nobles—her experience in the thief world helped. “Since they had to go through all that trouble to get the tech, they’ll have fewer doubts. Soon, they’ll be laying magical networks across their domains.”

“Even if they don’t need mining machinery, the network can power their castles, mage towers, magical traps, and other defenses. In a world full of magic, the network is universally useful,” Gawain nodded. “But I estimate at least a third of the nobles will want mining machinery—the South has plenty of mines. Inform Viscount Andrew to clear the docks. I expect many secretive visitors will soon come to his lands seeking magical engines.”

“We could run that business ourselves…” Amber pouted. “Cut out the middlemen…”

“Not yet. The nearly unlimited supply of cheap alchemical potions from the Cecil lands is already astonishing. I don’t want to draw more attention elsewhere for now,” Gawain shook his head. “All the rumors we’ve spread hint that Cecil’s production is at capacity, and the new mining machinery is made in Tansan Town. I’ll keep feeding that narrative to make the southern nobles underestimate Cecil’s true potential. That way, they won’t panic.”

Amber waved a hand. “So they’ll let their guard down, right? Got it, got it.”

Gawain was pleased with Amber’s progress and nodded approvingly. Then he suddenly said, “Help me keep watch nearby. I’m going to…”

Before he finished, Amber cut in, “You’re going to ‘meditate’ again?”

“Exactly.”

This time, Amber didn’t say a word, simply nodded. “Alright, I’ll watch over you.”

Gawain slowly emptied his mind. Just before slipping into the dreamscape, he heard Amber’s faint voice beside him: “But promise me, when you can speak again, you’ll tell me first!”

“Don’t worry, I won’t forget.”

After a brief darkness and dizziness, Gawain found himself in that endless space of blue skies and clear waters.

The old mage Daniel stood before him, bowing respectfully.

“My lord, I have not failed your will—I am now the chief of the ‘Information Security and Network Architecture’ project for the Eversleepers, and I will oversee the construction of the first-generation database.”

Gawain blinked.

This old man was impressively efficient!

More so than any traitor in his domain!

Hmm… if he ever slows down in the future, this old mage might just become the next pope…

(End of chapter)