Chapter 969: Unstable Tilt

Under the cover of night, a mixed squad composed of light infantry, low-ranking knights, and battle mages swiftly passed through a nearby intersection. Military discipline was strict—there was no idle chatter, only the steady sound of boots striking the ground. The glow from the magic crystal street lamps cast faint gleams along the edges of their helmets, occasionally flickering. Short staves and orbs carried by the battle mages peeked out from their cloaks, emitting a faint, mysterious light in the darkness.

This was no covert operation; rather, it was one of the newly established night patrol units in Aldernan.

In a large house near the edge of the wealthy district, on the second floor, a curtain was drawn back just enough to reveal a pair of gleaming eyes watching the street below.

Mary stood behind the window, observing for a moment before turning to her mentor nearby. “Master, another patrol just passed by—this time there were four battle mages, two knights, and twelve soldiers equipped with enchanted gear.”

“They’re from the Royal Direct Knight Order, a standard mixed combat squad,” Daniel replied calmly from a nearby sofa. He leaned against the armrest, one hand supporting his temple. A magic tome floated silently before him, its pages turning on their own. The old mage’s voice was steady and authoritative, soothing Mary’s slight unease. “Which direction did they head?”

Mary thought for a moment, mentally mapping the route. “It seemed like they were going toward Oak Street in the West City.”

“Saint Jorem War God’s Cathedral…” Daniel nodded thoughtfully. “That’s normal.”

“Master, there have been more and more patrols at night lately,” Mary said uneasily. “Is something big about to happen in the city?”

“…Things might be unsettled soon, but don’t worry. The Lord has his plans,” Daniel glanced at his apprentice with a faint smile. “You just focus on your own duties.”

Mary nodded quickly. “Yes, I understand.”

Suddenly, faint music drifted in from somewhere unknown. It sounded distant but still within the wealthy district.

Drawn by the melody, Mary glanced out the window again. To the northwest, among the grand buildings, bright lights flickered, and shifting colorful patterns danced between one or two houses. The faint music came from that direction—light and flowing, not the heavy, rigid classical court music, but rather the newer style of court dance tunes that had grown popular among the young nobility in recent years.

It seemed there was a gathering underway. From the flickering lights and the faint strains of music, Mary could easily imagine the lively scene unfolding there.

“The tension grows by the day, yet the parties never stop…” the young mage murmured softly.

“Hosting banquets is a noble’s duty. As long as they draw breath, they won’t cease their feasts and dances—especially in times like these, their ballrooms must burn bright through the night,” Daniel said with a slight smile, as if amused by Mary’s rural upbringing and her tendency to be easily startled. “If you had been to Oak Street’s market today, you’d see nothing has changed. The citizen market remains open, the exchange is still crowded. Though nearly all the War God’s Cathedrals are under investigation, and the Grant Cathedral has been closed for days, neither nobles nor commoners believe anything major is about to happen. In a way, that’s partly thanks to the nobles’ all-night revelries.”

Mary thought for a moment, then asked cautiously, “To calm people’s nerves?”

Daniel glanced at her, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Something like that. While the nobles feast, their cooks and maids share what they see with guards and low-ranking servants in villas and manors. Those servants pass the news to neighbors, and well-informed merchants find ways to mingle with the upper class. Eventually, all the nobles, merchants, and wealthy citizens feel everything is fine. For Aldernan and Typhon, as long as these people are secure, society is stable. As for the lower-class poor and displaced workers who’ve flooded into the city? Whether they’re anxious or uneasy is not something those above consider.”

Mary blinked, realizing her mentor was taking this opportunity to teach her something—knowledge she hadn’t learned as a mage apprentice, something seemingly unrelated to magic.

But she listened intently.

Daniel’s voice came again from beside her: “Be careful with your own safety these days. Besides going to the Guild of Artificers and the Mage Association, avoid other places. Especially stay away from the War God’s Cathedrals and any priests active outside.”

“Yes, I understand.”

Mary answered obediently, then glanced out the window once more.

The patrol of imperial soldiers had long since disappeared from the street lit by the magic crystal lamps, leaving only the bright yet cold glow to illuminate the chill of the approaching winter night. Occasionally, a few pedestrians hurried past, looking tired and anxious. Considering this was the edge of the wealthy district, just one street away from where commoners lived, those figures were likely late-shift workers—or perhaps homeless wanderers.

Mary couldn’t help but think of the countryside where she grew up. Though she had spent much of her childhood confined within the dark, oppressive Mage Tower, she still remembered the villages and small towns at the foot of the mountains. It wasn’t a prosperous place, but on this cold winter night, she found herself longing for it.

After living in the bustling imperial capital for so long, she had almost forgotten what the countryside looked like.

Suddenly, a light appeared on a nearby street, breaking Mary’s reverie. She instinctively turned toward the glow and saw a dark silhouette following it—a broad, black magi-tech carriage rolling down the wide street like a strange armored beetle.

A magi-tech carriage? Those were expensive and high-end. Who could be out so late? Curiosity piqued, Mary focused her gaze.

She caught a glimpse of an emblem on the side of the carriage, confirming it belonged to some noble. But just as she tried to get a better look, a subtle, harmless warning pressure pressed down on her.

Mary’s heart skipped a beat, and she hurriedly looked away.

“What’s wrong?” her mentor’s voice asked nearby.

“A magi-tech carriage just passed,” Mary whispered. “I looked a little too closely, and the people inside didn’t seem to like it.”

“Don’t mind it. Probably just some high-ranking noble wanting to keep a low profile. That kind of warning isn’t hostile,” Daniel said casually, gesturing toward the tea table. “When you’re done relaxing, come back and finish those exercises.”

“Yes, Master.”

…

The magi-tech carriage glided smoothly along the broad, flat Imperial Avenue. Street lamps and building lights flickered past the windows, casting fleeting, blurred patterns on the interior walls, ceiling, and seats. Pedinan sat in the rear right seat, his expression calm as he withdrew his gaze from the window.

The trusted attendant driving ahead asked, “My lord, it will be a while before we reach the Obsidian Palace. Would you like to rest?”

“No need. I’m still alert,” Pedinan replied casually.

The vehicle pressed onward, and the duke’s thoughts settled. He glanced at the empty seat to his left, then looked out the window again. The spire of Saint Jorem War God’s Cathedral rose quietly above the rooftops in the distance, bathed in the soft glow of street lamps filtering through the gaps. Turning his gaze the other way, he saw the neon lights flickering toward Vanleron Shalon, and faint sounds of revelry drifted even here.

A familiar, deep, commanding voice suddenly spoke from the left seat: “Bustling yet noisy, splendid yet hollow, isn’t it?”

Pedinan’s muscles tensed instantly. In less than a second, he was ready for combat. He swiftly turned his head—and saw a broad figure clad in holy robes sitting in the seat beside him, smiling.

The trusted attendant driving showed no reaction, as if unaware of the extra passenger or the conversation.

“Lord Malm…” Pedinan recognized the figure immediately. It was the current Pope of the War God’s Church. But… he should be at the Grant Cathedral right now, under the close “protective surveillance” of the elite Wanderer squad and Lady Diana herself.

Why was he here? How did he get here?

For a moment, Pedinan doubted his legendary senses and vigilance. Yet his face remained calm. Besides quietly raising his guard, he spoke evenly: “Visiting my carriage at this hour seems rather improper.”

Malm Duniet smiled gently, unfazed. “We’ve known each other a long time—and I remember you’re not usually so cold.”

Pedinan’s wariness deepened. He didn’t understand the Pope’s sudden visit, nor the mysterious means by which he appeared beside him. The fact that the driver remained oblivious made the situation even stranger.

“So, what urgent matter brings you to my carriage at this late hour?” Pedinan asked, eyes locked on the Pope.

“Just suddenly remembered I hadn’t seen an old friend in a long time. Thought I’d drop by for a chat,” Malm said in a casual tone. “Pedinan, my friend, you haven’t been to the Grant Cathedral for devout worship in quite a while, have you?”

Something was very wrong. Very, very wrong.

“I make my weekly donations to the Grant Cathedral and have not ceased necessary prayers and sacraments,” Pedinan said gravely. “Old friend, is that what you came to talk about?”

Malm seemed to ignore the latter half of the sentence, shaking his head. “Not nearly enough, my friend. Donations and basic prayers and sacraments are things any ordinary believer does. But I know you’re a devout follower, as is Bard, and the Wendell family has always been among the Lord’s most faithful servants, haven’t they?”

His brows drooped, and with a hint of regret, he spoke like an old man rambling: “But what’s happened these years, my old friend? I can feel you drifting further and further from the Lord’s path… You seem to be distancing yourself, whether consciously or not, from your once noble and righteous faith. Has something happened?”

Pedinan frowned but said nothing.

Malm Dunit continued, “And besides, that girl Andesha still hasn’t been baptized, has she? Old friend, you told me long ago that Andesha is to be the heir of the Wendel family. How can anyone in the Wendel line refuse the Lord’s baptism?”

Finally, Ferdinand couldn’t hold back any longer and broke the silence. “Lord Malm, my friend—the Wendel family has indeed long served the God of War devoutly, but we are not a family bound by faith. There is no obligation or law that every Wendel descendant must undergo baptism in the Church of the God of War. Andesha has chosen a path different from her father’s and grandfather’s, and I respect that. I don’t see anything wrong with it.

“Besides, Andesha is already twenty-five. She’s a frontline commander capable of handling things on her own. I don’t think we elders have the right to decide how she should live her life anymore.”

Malm Dunit fell silent for a moment, his gaze fixed intently on Ferdinand’s eyes. But soon, he smiled as if the earlier intensity had never been there. “You’re right, my friend, you’re right… Andesha is no longer a child.

“But I still want to say this, Ferdinand—you’ve drifted away from our Lord over the years. I don’t know what’s happened to you, but that’s not a good thing.

“You were baptized. You once had true faith, and the Lord has answered you. That doesn’t change just because you’ve turned away.

“Ferdinand, come back to the right path. The Lord will be glad.”

Ferdinand’s expression darkened, and his tone grew sharp. “Lord Malm, I have urgent matters tonight. If you want to preach to me, we can find another time.”

“Ah, urgent matters…” Malm looked up, glanced out the window, and shook his head. “Towards the Obsidian Palace, I think I know what your urgent matters are… Another meeting with Rosetta Augustus? Another sudden summons?”

Ferdinand immediately straightened up and reminded him, “Lord Malm, when addressing His Majesty, you must use honorifics. Even you shouldn’t speak the Emperor’s name so casually.”

“It’s fine. He and I have been old friends for a long time. I’ve always called him that,” Malm smiled, then shook his head again. “It’s just a pity he probably doesn’t see me as an old friend anymore… He even ordered the Lord’s sanctuary sealed off and placed me and my clerics under house arrest…”

Ferdinand quickly corrected him, “That’s not a lockdown, just an investigation. You’re not under house arrest. It’s a protective measure to prevent any further incidents…”

But halfway through his sentence, he stopped.

The seat to his left was empty—completely empty.

(End of chapter)