Chapter 757: Beneath the Clear Waters

Jinna reached out and gently scratched the neck of her longtime companion, the griffon. She knew this was the third favorite way it liked to relax—the first and second being Sihuo Jin’s strong liquor and distilled spirits from the Hosman region.

Sonia sighed beside her. “The griffons here have the worst tempers I’ve ever seen. They’re full of crude curses. Compared to them, the giant eagles we tame are all gentle and polite, like true gentlemen and ladies.”

“Too bad I’m neither an elf nor a druid,” Jinna shook her head, “so I can’t understand what the griffons are saying… but I can at least sense their moods.”

“Maybe it’s better not to understand,” Sonia said helplessly. “If you actually understood their insults, you’d be furious. These beasts could curse your whole family to death in an instant.”

A low, rumbling buzz suddenly cut through Sonia’s words. Jinna looked up just in time to see a dragonrider training drone completing its mission, slicing across the sky toward the hangar as dusk settled.

The griffon beside her caught sight of the flying machine and immediately grew agitated, flapping its wings and letting out a loud, piercing cry.

Sonia reached out and patted the raptor’s neck. “Quiet—machines don’t have mothers.”

Jinna’s lips twitched slightly.

“Starting next year, with the introduction of dragonriders and other aircraft, a significant number of military griffons will be gradually retired or reassigned,” Maggie suddenly broke the silence, looking at Jinna. “Some will be transferred to civilian use, some sent to remote areas, others downgraded to second-line units. If I’m not mistaken, the griffons you dragonrider trainees have been raising will be among the first to be retired… That’s probably why it’s in such a bad mood.”

“I plan to keep mine,” Jinna said firmly. “I’ve already submitted the application and received approval from my superiors. I’ll care for it until it grows old and dies.”

Sonia glanced at the young knight in surprise. “Without relying on subsidies or extra income, raising a griffon on your own is a huge expense. And as a dragonrider commander, having a personal griffon might affect how your soldiers see you.”

“It’s been with me for many years. I can’t bear to send it to the southwestern border,” Jinna smiled faintly, shaking her head. “Besides, no member of the Prince family has ever abandoned their griffon companion. I don’t want to be the first. As for any trouble that might cause… I believe I’m ready.”

Inside the wooden nest, the massive raptor tilted its head, studying the knight intently for a moment. Then it stretched out its neck and rubbed its beak hard against Jinna’s hair, emitting a low, rumbling purr.

Jinna wrapped her arms around her old partner’s neck, smiling as she looked at the blonde elf before her. “Instructor Sonia, what is it saying now?”

Sonia’s expression grew a little complicated. “It says your mother is alive.”

Jinna was speechless.

The young knight left the griffon’s nest with a strange look on her face. Sonia and Maggie remained behind, gazing toward the training camp bathed in the glow of the setting sun. Maggie exhaled softly.

“There must be more knights like her… This era is changing too fast. Some old things are just hard to let go of, especially among the knightly class that values family tradition,” the dark-haired dragonborn woman said with a hint of melancholy. “I’ve heard that in the Second Combat Corps, officers from traditional knight families and newly commissioned knights often clash. The former always try to carry their family crests, while the latter, from humbler origins, see it as ‘the arrogant stench of old nobility.’”

“Old nobles, having lost their privileges and lands, inevitably cling to what they once had, bearing the marks of a bygone era. Meanwhile, rapidly rising commoner officers resent this deeply. Because of past conflicts, even trivial lifestyle differences become points of contention,” Sonia shook her head. “Originally, these two groups were isolated, with little chance of conflict. But the new order brought by His Majesty Gawain has brought them closer, creating opportunities for friction and even open hostility… It’s unavoidable.”

The new era was beautiful, but beauty always came at a price. The thriving empire inevitably harbored hidden dangers.

Sonia was not human, but as an elf who had lived through a thousand years, she had seen far too much.

“His Majesty must have foreseen these risks,” Maggie said after a moment of silence. “Let’s not dwell on it too much…”

…

On the Holy Spirit Plain, the small town of Changshi on the Gorgon’s west bank.

The acrid smell of scorching rays and burning blades filled the air, causing a frowning official from the Administration Office to wrinkle his brow. The pale-skinned, high-cheekboned middle-aged man in a black wool coat looked with undisguised disgust at the family before him, their hands bound behind their backs.

Standing beside him were special security agents in black uniforms, armed with magitech weapons. The blade of a plasma cutter glowed faintly red in the cold winter wind, radiating a terrifying heat.

“You concealed property that should have been turned over to the Empire, kept illegal contracts, and refused to comply with the farmland regulations. Mr. Konsko, it seems prison is the only place fit for you,” the grim-faced official said coldly. “Maybe it will wash away the stench clinging to your family.”

“Berman… this is personal revenge!” the bound man shouted, lifting his head despite the armored magitech soldiers around him. “You falsified the documents! Those nonexistent accounts, land deeds, letters… you fabricated them all!”

“Shut up!” A security agent stepped forward swiftly, his steel gauntlet smashing into the man’s face. Blood splattered as the already injured man nearly fainted on the spot.

A woman nearby screamed in terror.

“Put them in the transport,” Berman waved dismissively. “Everyone else, continue cataloging the confiscated goods… These are the oils squeezed from the poor. Make sure they go into the treasury and are used properly.”

The special security agents responded immediately. “Yes, sir.”

Berman nodded, a faint smile breaking through his scowl. A cold wind blew, causing him to tighten his coat.

…

As darkness deepened, the newly installed magic crystal street lamps along the town’s roads flickered on under the control of automatic mechanisms.

People finishing their day’s work walked home beneath the warm glow. Near the Administration Office in the former noble district, a figure moved with easy steps along the brightly lit street.

Berman climbed the few steps to his private quarters, looking up at the warmly lit windows and quickening his pace.

Pushing open the door of the house that once belonged to a scholar-advisor, warmth greeted him. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him, then removed his cold coat and hung it on a silver hook by the entrance.

Suddenly, a strange male voice cut through the quiet, freezing his movements. “Maybe you shouldn’t hang up your coat just yet, Mr. Berman—you’ll be going out again soon. It’s much colder outside than in here.”

Berman’s eyes widened, his heart pounding in alarm. He spun toward the voice and saw a figure materializing in the previously empty living room—a young man with short black hair and a faint smile. He wore a sharp black long coat, a delicate silver chain at the collar, and a red armband embroidered with a black eye on his left arm.

The stranger sat on the sofa, solidifying from a ghostly form in less than three seconds. Then he stood and extended a white-gloved right hand. “As a courtesy for our first meeting, perhaps we should shake hands?”

“Who are you?!” Berman shouted, panic rising. “Why are you in my house?!”

“Shh, your family is still upstairs sleeping. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to wake them with this awkward scene,” the young man said, withdrawing his hand and pulling out an ID. He unfolded it before Berman’s eyes—a black background with two silver daggers crossed over an open eye. It was the emblem of Military Intelligence. “Military Intelligence, Internal Affairs Division Three, Anti-Rebellion Special Unit, codename Dark Raven. Mr. Berman, please come with me. We have some questions for you.”

Berman’s pupils constricted sharply as he realized the man’s identity. He took a step back, then turned to open the door and flee into the street. But before he could turn the handle, a white-gloved hand gripped his arm.

Dark Raven had somehow moved beside him, pressing a metal object against Berman’s lower back.

Sweat beaded visibly on the official’s forehead as he shouted, “You… you can’t do this! I’m loyal to His Majesty! I’ve served him since Kant! I’ve earned merit on the Holy Spirit Plain…”

Dark Raven produced a pair of specially made shackles. “I’m sorry, Mr. Berman, but your name is on the list.”

“Let me go! Let me go!” Berman struggled fiercely, but his strength was no match for the former royal shadow guard’s restraint. Desperation filled his voice. “I was only doing my duty! I’m loyal, I’m loyal! Take me to see His Majesty… no, no, even the director will do!

“Have mercy! Sir, send a message to the director! There must be some mistake, some misunderstanding…”

Click. The shackles locked tightly, binding Berman’s hands.

Dark Raven snapped his fingers, and a shadowy power invaded Berman’s vocal cords, finally silencing the man’s endless pleas.

Dark Crow looked at the man before him, whose eyes were wide with shock, and a trace of pity softened his expression. “I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. The signature on that document is from the Bureau Chief himself. For a government official like you—born in the Southern Territories and personally educated by His Highness Hetty—to get into trouble, it would require a special order from the highest authority. But rest assured, His Majesty forbids any form of internal assassination or secret execution. You will face an open and fair trial. You keep insisting on your loyalty—if it truly exists, then it will surely be revealed after the verdict. But, to be honest, you probably understand better than I do what the final outcome will be.”

“Mr. Berman, your embezzlement of confiscated goods from the old noble estates, your distortion of orders from the Supreme Administrative Office—all of this will be made public. You might even become a cautionary example with some influence… at least that would be your last contribution to the Empire.”

“Furthermore, we will notify your family properly, and you will have the chance to see them. Unlike your usual methods, we will strictly uphold the law—there’s no need to worry about that.”

Dark Crow spoke calmly and deliberately. From Berman’s lips came a low, whimpering sound, his eyes filled with terror and regret—and perhaps, just a flicker of doubt.

Meeting that gaze, Dark Crow simply shook his head, stepped forward, and opened the door, leading Berman out onto the street.

The town was deep into night now. Along the road, magic crystal lamps cast a bright glow. In the stillness, several figures in black trench coats, wearing red armbands and white gloves, emerged quietly from nearby houses.

“Disperse.”

(End of chapter)