Chapter 82
Conspiracy
The youth took out a leather scroll from a bookshelf after finishing his words, laying it on the table and unfurling it to reveal a map of Faust. It magically expanded upon his touch, becoming a three-dimensional model of the city of legends.
He lightly tapped on the third island of the seventh layer, "First we have to get our little Richard off this reeking island. And… Hmm, he definitely will want to check the Church of the Eternal Dragon, so this will be a good location. What do you think, Master Valen?"
The old man named Valen looked at where the youth had pointed, a place between the Church of the Eternal Dragon and the Teleportation Temple that was relatively quiet and peaceful. Of course, that relatively was important— because of how close it was to the city gates and the flight stops it still had quite a bit of traffic. Valen’s pupils constricted the moment he saw the place, and he nodded, "This is a great a place, but you have to be fast. Who are you sending?"
"Faulk, Faulk Joseph. He’s our best pick." The young man answered without hesitation.
There was a subtle change in mood within the room, and Kevin even commented, "Faulk? Is that necessary?"
The young man took out a white handkerchief and replied indifferently while wiping his hands, "Of course it’s necessary. Do you think Gaton will just give up if we send someone else? Those old foxes will see through our little plan, but we need to force him to tolerate it for now. That needs enough of a sacrifice on our part. He’ll be aware of what we’re doing, but we need to force him to deal with us at a later date. What we need now is time. Alright, Master Valen, I’ll leave persuading Faulk to you."
"We will do as you ask," the old man said with respect. He then stood up, leaving with the rest of the men in tow.
The young man, Raymond Joseph the fourth son of Duke Joseph himself, did not like to be questioned after he’d made a decision. He was one of the three most powerful members of his family, having shown an affinity for both the planar wars and governing their territory. But that wasn’t what he was known for— he’d recently defended his little baronage from the attacks of two Archeron viscounts!
……
After a few boring days of continuous reading and meditation, Richard decided to take a stroll and match the streets of Faust to the information he’d read in his books. Downtown Faust was truly flourishing, with hundreds of alliances and many powerful groups and individuals trying to make a fortune or find something useful there. Truth be told, as long
Demi and Venica had become a big downside to staying on the family island. It was growing increasingly difficult for him to ward off their aggressive advances, and they’d already started to end their classes early to visit him at least once a day. It wouldn’t be long until they ended up becoming mates if this continued— the girls’ ultimate goal.
Demi and Venica were different from normal Archeron women. Producing powerful offspring was only one facet of their consideration; they were more interested in participating in the planar wars alongside him.
That was why, when Warren invited Richard to visit the Church of the Eternal Dragon together, he’d agreed at once. Although it was rather bizarre for Warren to ask him out with his obvious hostility, he believed it was still logical to an extent. Who wouldn’t want to build a good rapport with a fifteen-year-old runemaster? Any well-trained child of nobility had learnt to set aside their personal feelings for the sake of interests and benefits. If not, they would long since have been eliminated in the internal wars of their families.
Richard, on the other hand, was excited to see the church, so he called his personal butler to report his plans. Gaton had asked him to inform the family whenever he wanted to leave, and await their arrangements.
The butler made his way to a small room at the side of the castle upon Richard’s request, informing a female knight of his plans.
The woman was dressed in light yet elegant armour of an unusual style. Unlike conventional designs that focused on protecting the chest, throat, and groin, her armour seemed to be focused on bringing out her outstanding figure. It fit tightly to all her curves, almost comparable to a custom-made night gown. There was no visible special protection nor defense of her vital parts, while the entire armour was decorated in pretty floral lines and embedded with many gems and crystals.
The veiny patterns were spread all across the breastplate, the jewels shining like stars that seemed almost translucent in certain areas. Apart from the traditionally designed shoulder pads, it seemed as if the entire armour was just for show and wouldn’t be effective in combat at all. However, the distinct magic aura radiating from it said otherwise— this surely wasn’t any ordinary piece of armour.
The woman was relatively pretty, even a little sultry, with her eyes moving flirtatiously. She looked around 20, her brown bob cut making her appear playful yet experienced. Her whole body was fitted comfortably in the chair, legs resting on the table. Of course, her thighs just had to be exposed. The fair and delicate-looking skin seemed extra-desirable under the golden light of the sun.
She appeared pretty laid back under the purposefully-strengthened daylight of Faust, like she could fall asleep at any time. The sword that she left leaning against the armrest of the chair was slowing slanting away, seeming like it could fall and collapse on the worn floor any time. The butler knew all this was just a front, and of the men who’d died to the deadly weapon would have agreed if they had the chance.
To the enemies of the Archerons, Blood Paladin Senma was nowhere near adorable.
It took five minutes of the butler’s reports for Senma to finally yawn, taking her legs off the table before stretching lazily. This was a rather frustrating process, because the lower half of her armour was styled like a long skirt, exposing the area beneath it here and there. Of course, a woman with both strength and beauty was a man-killer. Many had died under her sword, being impaled within a split second of thinking to peek under her skirt.
But the butler who has been working for the Archerons for 30 years was more than familiar with the 13 rune knights, so he kept his eyes ten centimetres from his feet from the moment he entered the room. They didn’t waver a bit.
The 13 knights all had their own pet peeves; Senma loved dressing provocatively, but if one eyed her indecently she would grow furious.
"Our little Richard wants to take a stroll? With Warren?" Senma asked with squinted eyes.
"Yes." The butler replied with respect.
"Alright, got it. Let the boy see the world, it’s not good trapping him all day long on this island either. All the sulphur will be bad for his skin! Don’t worry, I’ll keep him safe. But that’s only exclusive to Richard, that half-elven peasant’s son could die for all I care."
The butler bowed and left, pretending like he didn’t hear Senma’s last words. The Blood Paladin cursed on occasion, another of her habits. However, her promise left him at ease.