Chapter 130: Promises Among the Nobility

Knock! Knock! Knock!

The sudden rapping at the door interrupted Earl Barrit’s contemplation, jolting him from his panic. He reached up to wipe the cold sweat from his forehead, adjusted his belt to cinch in his protruding belly, and cleared his throat. "Enter."

The door clicked open, and his butler, dressed in a tuxedo, walked in holding a stack of letters. He approached the left side of the sofa, bowed slightly with his right hand over his shoulder, and spoke in a humble tone: "My Lord, letters from the other Earls."

"Bring them here." Earl Barrit’s eyes lit up; suddenly, he felt that salvation might be at hand.

The butler handed the envelopes to him with both hands. Barrit took them, used a letter opener to slice them open, and hurriedly pulled out the contents. He scanned the scrawled handwriting, his eyes darting across the pages.

The clock on the wall ticked rhythmically. As he read, the Earl’s round face slowly creased into a frown, and the fat on his body shivered imperceptibly. Finally, with a thump, he threw all the letters onto the table, scattering the flawed white paper across the surface.

The contents were nothing but empty expressions of concern. There was not a single practical suggestion; every line simply urged him to hold on and not let the Grand Duke of the Eastern Border seize control of the entire region.

How was he supposed to hold on? Was he supposed to use his head as a shield? Even Earl Lev, who was stronger than him, hadn't lasted a few days against that cold-blooded Grand Duke before meeting his end. And he certainly didn't have as many transcendent knights as Lev, nor the wealth to recruit Tier 3 transcendents. He was just an ordinary Earl with barely eight hundred transcendent knights under his command, most of whom were nothing more than watered-down squires. How could a man of his stature possibly stand against the Grand Duke?

"Damn them!" he cursed. "If you won't save me, don't blame me for having no spine!"

Earl Barrit turned to his butler and commanded, "In a moment, take a hundred knights to Lev's territory and surrender to the Grand Duke of the Eastern Border."

If he surrendered quickly enough, the enemy wouldn't be able to strike him. This was the philosophy of survival Barrit had mastered. It was shameful, yes, but better than being taken prisoner. At worst, he would pay some money and cede some land, but he would remain an Earl and continue his aristocratic lifestyle. As for how much of the Barrit family’s territory would be squandered, that was not his concern. As long as he was comfortable, let the deluge come after he was gone.

"My Lord, are you intending to surrender to the Grand Duke?" The butler was stunned, doubting he had heard correctly.

Earl Barrit nodded firmly. "That is correct. Not only will I surrender, but I will also look for an opportunity to apologize in person for my previous rudeness."

"But what about the other noble lords?" the butler asked cautiously.

This clearly violated the pact between the nobles of the realm. Breaking the rules like this would lead to isolation and, potentially, expulsion from the noble register. Everyone would refuse to communicate with him, and should any future conflicts arise, the other nobles would show him no respect. Having only recently exchanged promises of mutual support, his sudden betrayal would be a severe crisis of credibility.

"I can barely keep my own head on my shoulders; why should I care about them? Surrender doesn't cost money, anyway. Go, make haste—don't give the other side time to attack."

"Yes, My Lord." Although the butler deeply disapproved of the decision, he did not defy his master. A qualified butler could offer advice, but he could not oppose his master's commands; this was the basic decorum and the final line of duty. When a butler dared to defy his master, his service had effectively come to an end.

Suddenly, Earl Barrit added, "Also, send replies to the other nobles telling them to come and support me as soon as possible."

"Ah?" The butler turned back, his face filled with bewilderment. What was this? Wasn't he planning to surrender?

Facing the butler's confusion, Barrit offered no explanation, merely waving his hand for him to leave. As the door slowly closed, the Earl was left alone in his study. He poured himself a glass of red wine, patted his rotund belly, and began to drink with an air of self-satisfaction.

When one truly lays flat, everything feels so easy. He was surrendering on one hand while asking for help on the other. If the other nobles were clearly trying to set him up and didn't come to help, then he would simply surrender. Seeing the red flag flying over that great city on the edge of Lev’s territory had been enough to shatter his confidence. If the enemy could take Lev’s territory in a few days, they could crush him just as easily—perhaps even faster.

And if they actually came to help? That would be even better; he would have more options. He might not even lose money or land, but could potentially make a profit. If the nobles had the upper hand, he could claim he was only biding his time to stall the Grand Duke, and they should reward him for his bravery. If the Grand Duke had the upper hand, he could claim he had used a clever ruse to trap the armies of the other nobles, keeping them out of the Eastern Border and preserving the peace—a hero, indeed!

Earl Barrit took a gentle sip of his wine and smiled. "Respected Earl Barrit, you are truly a genius. You must reward yourself properly."

With that thought, he stood up, shuffled to a bookshelf, and opened a hidden compartment. Inside were five exquisite small boxes. He took one out, closed the compartment, and returned to the sofa.

"My little treasure," he murmured, caressing the wooden box with a look of intoxication. He opened it to reveal a piece of translucent, crystalline pastry. "That fellow Lev is dead. I wonder where I shall get this in the future? Sigh! If only I had the recipe, I would have an endless supply of this suet."

The reason Earl Lev had been so powerful, capable of supporting so many transcendent knights, was entirely due to this little delicacy. His hands trembling, he picked up the suet, popped it into his mouth, and chewed, his fat face filled with a strange, ecstatic expression.

As if he had consumed a potent hallucinogen, Earl Barrit began to twitch, letting out a strange, feminine moan.

***

Far from the rugged, complex, and bitter landscape of the Eastern Border, the northern part of the kingdom was covered in vast, fertile plains.

The region was dotted with cities, surrounded by endless stretches of farmland, countless cattle and sheep, and a grain capacity capable of feeding millions. Over ninety percent of the land was arable, and thanks to the rain-calling rituals of the Church of the Earth Mother, the harvests were consistently bountiful. This scene was unimaginable in the harsh East; there, one would be overjoyed to find a single patch of fertile land, let alone an entire region of it.

In a city inhabited by high nobles, within the opulent, gold-leafed living room of the central palace, three gorgeously dressed men sat on sofas, each embracing a woman of exceptional beauty. They were Earls of the neighboring territories, and having received news today, they had hastily gathered for a small meeting. Their lands were not the bitter East; there were no vast mountains to obstruct them, and traveling to each other's territories took no more than a day. Especially with the aid of transcendent power, they could compress the journey to half a day in an emergency, though they would have to leave their knightly orders behind.

One of the high nobles asked in a deep voice, "Lev's territory has been conquered. Is this true?"

"According to the intelligence sent back by the thieves I dispatched to scout the situation, it is highly likely to be true," the noble in the seat of honor replied.

"How so quickly?!" the noble on the left said, unable to believe it. "We only just received the call for help from Earl Lev, and he was conquered the very next day? This is too exaggerated."

The noble in the seat of honor continued, "There is more news: Lev is apparently dead, and they have publicly executed all the nobles."

This statement caused the other two to freeze, followed by expressions of fury and terror.

"How dare the Grand Duke of the Eastern Border?!"

"Has he gone mad?"

Killing an Earl and executing all the nobles was a violation of the world's greatest taboos! How could one kill nobles in war? If he dared to kill an Earl today, he would dare to kill them tomorrow. Those who break the rules never live long.

The noble in the seat of honor sighed. "The situation has escalated beyond our ability to handle. The Grand Duke is a madman. We must appeal to His Majesty for help."

"Will His Majesty help us? The Grand Duke is the King's favorite."

"He will. His Majesty is a very petty man; he surely would not want to see a second Grand Duke rise."

In just a few words, the three high nobles had considered their path forward. They decided to use the safest approach: using the rules to bind the madman. Regardless of the Grand Duke's true strength, the fact that he conquered Lev’s territory in a few days was indisputable. No matter how incredible it seemed, they were not foolish or arrogant enough to deny the facts.

There were only two people in the kingdom who could truly stand against the Grand Duke: the King of the Morning and Grand Duke Carter. The former possessed the power of the Royal Artifact, and no one in the kingdom could oppose him. The latter was a long-standing noble with deep foundations who could likely hold his own. However, his territory was far from the East, and he was unlikely to rashly start a war with the Grand Duke. At present, only the King could provide them with real assistance.

"In that case, let us bring this to His Majesty and let him uphold justice. By the way, what about Earl Barrit? Should we send support?" the noble on the left asked, recalling the plea for help he had received that morning.

The noble on the right replied without hesitation, "Of course we go. As fellow nobles of the kingdom, how can we stand by and watch him die? However, I cannot say for certain when we will arrive."

"War between nobles only serves to exhaust the kingdom's interests. I believe we should wait for His Majesty's orders."

The three exchanged a knowing smile and reached a consensus: they would trick the bumpkin in the East. As for their previous promises, they had long since cast them to the wind. Besides, it wasn't that they weren't sending support; they were just going to be... a little bit slow.