It Was I Who Killed Him!

“Provocation! This is blatant provocation!” Bargnar slammed his hand down, shouting. His imperial envoy, dispatched to investigate the Wyvern Carriage incident, had just returned, bearing Ferdinand’s audacious reply: “…a misunderstanding, hehe, an accident!”

Not even a child would believe this was merely an accident! Bargnar was incandescent with rage; the diamond-hard desk before him already bore the spiderweb cracks of his furious blows – King Lanning’s strength, it seemed, was formidable indeed!

Antoine silently observed His Majesty’s outburst, his heart untroubled. Though Bargnar might not rival the Sage Kings of antiquity, he was certainly no foolish tyrant. This was evident in his restraint; even in his most furious state, he had never issued an overly rash command. There was no need for Antoine to fret needlessly.

A moment later, Bargnar’s temper subsided slightly. Antoine stepped forward, bowing respectfully. “Your Majesty, this is indeed Francis provoking you! But…”

The fury Bargnar had just managed to suppress surged back, ignited anew by Antoine’s words. *Boom!* He slammed his palm down, shattering the already cracked desk! Yet, grinding his teeth, he sank back onto his throne, seething. “Francis, oh Francis, how bold! A mere Earl, the lord of eight hundred li, dares to flaunt his power before *me*!”

“Francis’s official rank within the Empire is, naturally, not high. But his *other* identity…” Antoine lowered his gaze and continued, “The men who just returned from the Cathedral report that Francis has come back this time as Du Chen’s Divine Envoy and a White-Robed Archbishop. Furthermore, the Titled Battle God, Grand Pontiff Brook, known as the ‘Nether Blade’, is also by his side…”

Bargnar’s lips trembled, his anger now laced with bitter irony. He scoffed, “Indeed, with his *other* identity and a Titled Battle God at his back, Francis certainly has the leverage to defy me! That ‘accident’ of flying over my palace with a Sacred Artifact Cannon… *Hmph!* That ‘accident’ is plainly telling me: Steve cannot be killed now! Otherwise, His Excellency, the White-Robed Archbishop, might just bring a Titled Battle God to cause me some… *trouble*!”

He bent down, retrieving the yellow scroll from the floor – the very one upon which he had intended to pen Steve’s death warrant and a final ultimatum. He tore it into delicate shreds.

“Your Majesty is most sagacious!” Antoine exclaimed.

Bargnar sneered, “If I cannot even tolerate *this* insult, how can I hope to forge a great legacy, one that rivals the Sage Kings of antiquity?! Antoine, go personally to the Grand Cathedral. Welcome Lord Francis back to the Imperial Capital to report on his duties, and commend him for his contributions to territorial development. Oh, and attribute the credit for the destruction of the Merfolk to him. Promote him one rank in nobility, and bestow upon him the title of Third-Class Marquis of Durkus!”

“Ah, Your Majesty’s wisdom truly shines!” Antoine, feigning contemplation for a moment before a sudden realization, exclaimed with delight, “Your Majesty, by honoring Francis and bestowing upon him additional office and rank, should he still dare to act impudently towards you, attempting to brazenly rescue the undeniably guilty Steve, then his greatest asset – public renown – will be utterly destroyed!”

Antoine articulated what any seasoned political veteran would discern, earning a faint, triumphant smile from Bargnar.

“Go!” Bargnar sneered inwardly. “There’s one more matter; prepare for it, but there’s no rush. I intend to publicly try Steve, allowing all commoners to bear witness – especially representatives from the Six Northern Provinces who lost their homes because of Steve. They will specifically attend the hearing… I’m eager to see how this ‘Lord of the Realm, most revered by the Empire’s common folk,’ will dare to challenge me under such circumstances, or rescue a war instigator utterly loathed by the Northern commoners! The hope of Saint John – I shall turn him to despair!”

Antoine acknowledged the command and departed. As he exited the palace gates, he cast a glance back at Bargnar, who sat on his throne, sneering with self-satisfaction. *Your Majesty,* Antoine thought, *do not celebrate too soon. While using the commoners can indeed rein in Francis, your opponents are not limited to him alone. This old servant’s… this old servant’s ‘foolish method’ has likely already been put into practice by Arges, hasn’t it?!*

…

At Saint John Cathedral, Du Chen paused, slightly taken aback after hearing Ferdinand’s somewhat triumphant declaration. “Who in Lanning possesses such formidable capability?!”

“Ilan!”

Ilan?

Du Chen mused for a long moment before recalling his last visit to Saint John City. Mas had entrusted him with the care of a clean-cut political rising star – a young man who had immediately sworn allegiance to Du Chen as his ‘Old One’. In Du Chen’s own words, the youth was practically a nominal junior brother under his banner! Indeed, back then, Ilan was merely a clerk in Lanning’s Department of Rites; to put it plainly, just a minor secretary!

Ferdinand chuckled, “Ilan’s competence is impressive. Under my patronage, he rose to become the Inquisitor of the Department of Rites in just over a year. Now, the Lanning Death Row Cells are under his direct control! Furthermore, ever since your elder brother’s incarceration, he has been under Ilan’s consistent care, sparing him a great deal of suffering!”

Du Chen nodded subtly. *Since this young man has looked after my elder brother in the Death Row Cells, I shall not neglect you in the future!*

Still, this young man had certainly climbed the ranks swiftly. An Inquisitor – that was a mid-level official position, replete with substantial benefits and genuine authority!

Within the Lanning Death Row Cells, the scholarly Ilan led his team into the lowest-level cells. After a flurry of instructions, the guards monitoring the cages changed shifts. Ilan then stepped forward, unlocked a cell, and respectfully ushered a black-robed figure inside.

Inside the cell, a large feather bed, a rosewood desk, a carved wardrobe, a crimson carpet, crystal lamps… all the furnishings of a nobleman’s dwelling were complete. For a death row inmate to receive such treatment, Ilan’s efforts were indispensable!

Yet, Steve was not enjoying any of it!

He was curled up in a corner of the cell, utterly motionless, eyes tightly shut, his face devoid of color. His hair was a disheveled mess, and his once-noble robe was now as grimy and ragged as a beggar’s, stained with grease from food… He looked like a gravely ill, dying mendicant!

The black-robed figure approached the bed and whispered, “Elder Brother!”

Steve did not respond, remaining curled and still as death. Were it not for the faint rise and fall of his chest, he might have been mistaken for a corpse! Du Chen’s heart clenched in pain, and he demanded in a low voice, “Ilan, what has happened to my elder brother?!”

Ilan cast a regretful glance at Steve. “My Lord, Mr. Steve was like this from the moment of his arrest – dazed, bewildered, and utterly silent. Only when His Majesty personally interrogated him did he vaguely utter a few responses, admitting to… his crimes!”

After a slight pause, he added, “Furthermore, both the Holy Church and Lanning’s own personnel have openly and discreetly examined him. Mr. Steve’s body is perfectly healthy, with no signs whatsoever of being harmed by any Secret Technique or poison.”

“You may leave for now!” Du Chen waved his hand. He called out to his elder brother a few more times, but Steve remained utterly oblivious. Du Chen then quietly placed a Precious Lotus Scripture behind Steve’s head and commanded via Divine Sense, “Dus, use The Sixth’s Holy Light to cleanse my elder brother’s body. Beibei, check if your grand-uncle’s mind is sound!”

For Steve, who was always vibrant and full of spirit, to be reduced to such a state – Du Chen refused to believe there wasn’t something amiss!

“Francis, your elder brother’s body is perfectly healthy. He only has a few very minor bruises, which are already healing. It looks like they were caused during Salon’s guards’ arrest. He hasn’t suffered any torture since entering the Death Row Cells, nor does he have any old, hidden injuries.”

“Daddy, Grand-uncle’s mind is really chaotic!” Little Beibei’s words piqued Du Chen’s interest. But then, the little one continued, “But Grand-uncle is… well, experiencing panic, fear, worry… Basically, it’s a daze caused by an overwhelming amount of negative human emotions. Aside from these, Grand-uncle’s Spiritual Power hasn’t been harmed by anyone.”

Steve’s negative emotions were *too* severe? What was going on? Did his elder brother harbor some unspeakable secret, or was he bearing too much pressure?!

However, one thing was certain: Steve’s current state was not the result of deliberate manipulation or framing!

Suddenly, Steve twitched twice. Seeing this, Du Chen’s urgency spiked. He grabbed Steve, shaking him. “Elder Brother, it’s me, Francis! Say something!”

His voice, imbued with battle qi, boomed like thunder in the confined space. Steve’s eyes fluttered open slightly, revealing a pair of vacant, dim orbs. Though his gaze was directed at Du Chen, the unfocused pupils clearly indicated he wasn’t truly registering his younger brother.

Hearing Du Chen’s roar, Ilan rushed in, looking distressed. “My Lord, please be careful… and perhaps a little quicker. Above these Death Row Cells lies Lanning’s Tribunal. They will surely come down to investigate if they hear your voice!”

“Block them for me!” Du Chen waved his hand decisively. “Beibei, can you use your Spiritual Power to soothe your grand-uncle’s emotions? Good, do it quickly!”

Steve stirred, becoming slightly more lucid. Little Beibei’s Spiritual Power was beginning to take effect.

Du Chen urged, “Elder Brother, give me a straight answer! Did you kill Salon?! If you’ve been framed, your third brother will eradicate your enemy for you, no matter who they are!”

Steve’s pupils focused, finally seeing Du Chen clearly. But then, he shuddered, violently pushed Du Chen away, and screamed like a madman, “It was I who killed him! I… I killed Salon!”

Having spoken, he collapsed limply to the ground, reverting to his curled, despondent state. Over and over, he muttered that single phrase, “I… it was I… I killed Salon…”

Little Beibei spoke with a touch of pity, “Daddy, Grand-uncle was better off when he was dazed by the negative emotions, because he didn’t know anything then. But now that he’s lucid, he clearly feels all those negative emotions… it’s even, even more painful for him!”

Du Chen sighed profoundly, looking heavenward. “Beibei, help your grand-uncle return to his previous state…”

Steve finally fell silent!

Du Chen was unwilling to give up. He gently unfastened Steve’s collar and personally examined his body. Shaking his head, he confirmed that Steve truly bore no signs of being framed. Suddenly, Du Chen conjured an ice blade, two inches long and incredibly sharp, at his fingertips, aiming it at Steve’s chest!