Most watched the carriage carrying Melor disappear into the distance and finally let out a breath of relief. The look Melor had given him at the moment of departure said everything. Most knew that his time was running out. Melor was a clever man.

  “Is this your final act of mercy toward me?”

  Most was a minor noble living within Melor’s territory. His rise to this position was not the result of luck. It was entirely due to skill. He could play the fool who asked meaningless questions, or become a placeholder capable of holding responsibility over an entire region. Most was an outstanding actor who could perform any role Melor required.

  He sat in silence on the long wooden bench padded with soft cotton cushions. He had thought about it many times, yet had never once regretted his decision.

  During the war against Golden, Melor traded the right to manage Medit Fortress to Este in exchange for part of the mineral region of SeaWall. He then led his troops across the river and seized nearly all of GoldenFang’s territory before finally regrouping with Ceasar in Golden’s capital. While the armies of the three families suffered heavy losses, the forces of Vogar and Melor were largely preserved and could be considered the ultimate victors.

  The town of Siver was rebuilt under Melor’s direction and became one of the most valuable regions of the Stanfor family. Too many interests were entangled there, and a portion of the profits was transferred directly into Hesmor’s treasury.

  The decline in production led to a decrease in national revenue. This became the leverage that The Triangle used in political negotiations to suppress Two Hands and seize full control over Allblack.

  On a night of torrential rain, Most focused on the ledgers for the upcoming shipments. He felt bitter about being transferred to this remote wasteland, far from the bustling cities. His only consolation was that at least he was the head of the branch. He had hoped his dedication would reach Melor, but perhaps he had been wrong. To Melor, only those of Stanfor blood were worthy of trust and promotion.

  Suddenly, a dark figure entered the room. The man was wrapped tightly from head to toe, yet his massive protruding belly could not be concealed. Most was not surprised. The shadow was an old acquaintance who had come here many times before. The difference was that this time, Most was the one waiting.

  “You have thought it through carefully, haven’t you, Most?” the shadow said in a low voice with a smile.

  “Of course. Is this not precisely why I summoned you?” Most replied.

  “Your decision is extremely wise.”

  “Wise? I do not have a choice,” Most sighed inwardly.

  …

  “My lord. One of the children who came here last time wishes to see you.”

  A soldier’s report cut through Most’s thoughts. He was surprised. Had they not already returned to Mornet? He quickly realized which child the soldier meant. A strange boy with no mana at all in his body, yet seemingly the leader.

  “Let him in.”

  Thane sat coldly across from Most. The boy’s demeanor intrigued the manager. An ordinary person facing a Battle King, yet maintaining such composure. The boy was certainly not simple. From the moment he entered the room, he had remained silent, his gaze carefully examining Most. The atmosphere grew strange.

  “You are an ambitious man, sir.”

  Seeing that Most did not intend to begin the conversation, Thane poured himself a cup of hot tea and spoke in a cryptic tone.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “What makes you think so, boy?” Most asked.

  Most was curious. He had imagined many scenarios, but never expected Thane to say this.

  “Is that not correct?” Thane answered with a question of his own.

  Most remained silent. He was in no hurry. He knew the boy had more to say.

  Cerebus dung had never ceased to be a hot commodity. In fact, demand for it was extremely high in the current era. The Infernic Range supplied vast quantities of Cerebus dung and represented enormous profit for whoever controlled the region. However, this was not a place that a single power could monopolize easily.

  Back in the Golden era, Richer had already set his sights on the benefits this region could bring. He destroyed SiverFang not merely out of personal hatred, but for commercial gain. The customs of SiverFang kept the Cerebus population strictly controlled. By erasing their lineage, the number of Cerebus increased, thereby raising the volume of dung produced. For this reason, a natural decline in Cerebus dung production was impossible. As time passed, the quantity could only continue to rise.

  “Do you not find it illogical? The numbers keep increasing, yet production is declining. This confirms that someone has intervened, and that person must hold an extremely important position.”

  “Among those important figures, only two could embezzle such quantities without leaving any trace. One is Terax, who controls the collection and supply of Cerebus dung in the wild. The other is you, the one responsible for storage, transportation, and distribution.”

  As he spoke, Thane carefully observed Most’s expression. The manager’s face remained calm, as though the matter had nothing to do with him.

  Only then did Most pour himself a cup of tea. After draining it, he smiled thoughtfully and spoke slowly.

  “So what are you implying?”

  “You know exactly what I mean. Melor is not a fool. He has certainly grasped the crux of the problem.”

  “An excellent line of reasoning. However, this is merely speculation. The input figures from Terax match the stock I store. If suspicion arises, he should suspect Terax rather than me.”

  “Figures are produced by people. And people can always be bought. For the rabble under Terax, I imagine the price is very cheap.”

  “It truly is a very cheap price,” Most thought to himself, smiling faintly.

  He was not angered by being exposed. He was only curious about Thane’s true purpose. If the boy had come merely to accuse him, it would be foolish. He could have reported directly to Melor.

  “Why did you not tell Melor while he was still here?” Most asked.

  “There is no need to tell him what he already knows.” Thane shook his head. Someone as shrewd as Melor certainly understood everything.

  “I assume you did not come just to make idle conversation. What is your true purpose?”

  “I came to save you.”

  “Save me?”

  “It is not difficult to infer that the power you are cooperating with is The Triangle. In the explosives distribution sector alone, Loket controls a significant market share. If I am not mistaken, the Cerebus dung that has been siphoned off is being sent to Loket.”

  Seeing that Most did not object, Thane continued his analysis.

  “You are calm because you know Melor will not dare to kill you. You are an official of Hesmor, a state functionary in name. Melor can only kill you after gathering sufficient evidence and prosecuting you before the Supreme Court.”

  “But you also cannot stop. If you stop, you lose all value to The Triangle. You are trapped. If you continue embezzling, Melor will punish you. If you stop, The Triangle will assassinate you.”

  “From the moment you set foot in Siver, your fate was sealed. This place is a deadlock. That is precisely why Melor did not want the Stanfor bloodline to manage this region. You are an outsider, easily replaced, a disposable pawn between two powers playing chess.”

  Most nodded. Thane’s analysis was perfectly accurate. It was not that he did not want to be loyal to Melor. He simply could not. If he had openly refused Loket’s proposal, he would have died without a body the very next day.

  “Melor gave you time so that you could live. He wants you to flee, but that also means you will be branded with embezzlement and hunted throughout Hesmor. The reputation and efforts you built over the years would be destroyed, forcing you to live like a hunted dog.”

  “But Most, as I said, you are an ambitious man.”

  Thane repeated the words he had spoken when they first met. Only now did Most truly understand their meaning.

  “Do you have a way?” Most asked.

  He did not want to die. Nor did he want to lose everything. He was indeed ambitious.

  “You need someone to die in your place. A scapegoat.”

  Most’s eyes flashed. He knew exactly who Thane was targeting, and more importantly, he felt that this plan was entirely feasible.

  “A few days ago, while visiting Allblack, I saw an abandoned tunnel leading from the Allblack dungeon to the Darkwood Forest. I suspect it may have been used to transport the embezzled goods.”

  “All you need is a trace. A reason.”

  Thane slowly pushed a matchstick toward Most. A tiny, ordinary matchstick, yet one that could lead to unimaginable consequences.

  Most stared at the small match lying before him. He picked it up and struck it. A sharp hiss sounded as a weak flame flared up. Soon, the match burned away completely. Most rubbed his soot blackened fingers together and nodded.

  “Good. Tell me your plan.”