“If there are still documents to process, bring them all over at once.”
“N-No more, Your Highness. All the reports from various regions have already been approved by you.”
The clerk beside him wiped the sweat from his forehead.
The man looked up, dazed for a moment, then broke into a wide grin. “Finished so quickly? I’m still not quite used to it.”
“Your Highness, you’re too diligent. The people of the Principality of Tis are truly fortunate.”
The clerk quickly responded, cautiously lifting his eyelids to sneak a glance at the young Grand Duke.
Just a few months ago, the man sitting behind the long table had still been the laughingstock of the court—the "Prince." But in the blink of an eye, he had become the true and rightful Grand Duke of Tis, fully in control of the principality’s affairs.
Everything felt like a dream. When news came of the Empress’s assassination, no one believed it. When the Prince fled, rumors flew. When the rebels within the Empire surrendered, the local nobility remained skeptical. When the three Grand Dukes of the North extended olive branches, people fell silent. When the Empire’s borders steadily retreated westward—by then, even the dullest fool should have realized that this land had welcomed a new master.
Whenever the clerk thought of these things, an unspeakable sense of dread stirred in his heart.
Who had said the “Prince” was just a good-for-nothing?He had watched with his own eyes as the Prince skillfully dealt with all manner of factions—splitting, drawing in, making promises, forging alliances. In just a few months, a disjointed alliance had been united under one banner. Within the Principality of Tis, not a single voice of dissent remained. Even the Empire had repeatedly given ground, and the independent Tis territory had truly come under his control.
Politics, military, economy, personnel—this young Grand Duke of Tis seemed to master them all. He was healthy, full of energy, and possessed keen judgment. He alone could manage state affairs that an entire cabinet couldn’t handle.
This... this...
The clerk scoured his meager knowledge of history but found no one comparable—perhaps the late Empress came close, but even she had fallen to the “Prince’s” blade.
Perhaps it really was fate’s will. Perhaps it was divine intervention. Among the alliance of Tis and the four northern territories, the Principality of Tis was already subtly becoming the leading force. Maybe one day, the Grand Duke’s domain would not be confined to just this principality...
Sweat formed again on the clerk’s brow.
“Then you may go for now. Inform me if anything arises. Call Galahad in,” the young man said with a cheerful smile.
“Yes, Your Highness! Right away!”
The clerk sprang from his chair and hurried out of the room. He had just pushed the door open and was about to breathe a sigh of relief when he was startled by the tall figure standing in the hallway.
“Galahad? Y-You... what are you doing here? When did you arrive?!”
The tall man cast a glance at the clerk, his tone indifferent. “I’ve been here all along.”
Without waiting for a reply, he pushed open the door and walked straight in.
*Bang.*
The door closed behind him, and the clerk gave a slight shiver before coming to his senses.
It was only then he realized—he hadn’t even called the man in. Had he overheard from outside?
The clerk quickly shook his head and briskly left the area.
He suddenly found himself missing the days when Butler Johan was still around. Ever since the “Prince” had returned from Rhine, the old butler had vanished, and this man named Galahad had appeared from nowhere to take over issuing orders.
It seemed like everything was improving. Tis was growing stronger. The Prince’s allies were increasing. This newly restored nation could now stand face-to-face against the Empire.
And yet, an unease lingered in the clerk’s heart—a vague sense of dread, as though everything was slipping into an abyss.
A faint, nearly inaudible sigh echoed in the corridor.
Inside the room—
The “Prince” was lounging comfortably in an armchair, his feet propped up on the table.
“How’s the situation?”
He asked casually toward Galahad.
“All is normal, Your Highness. The sea has stabilized. It turns out those rumors were false.”
“I figured as much. That airship we intercepted last time—was that what it was called? How’s the investigation going?”
Galahad frowned. “They still won’t talk. That Connor was indeed once Duke Cohen’s steward, and later followed the Duke’s bastard son to Castel. But what they claim afterward is absurd.”
“Oh, I remember you mentioned something about monsters in the sea, even attacking Castel or something. Hmm, I think Johan went to investigate Castel back then, didn’t he?”
“Yes, though that was some time ago. The findings matched what we know—the entire island vanished.”
“That’s quite strange. Right... how’s the examination of the items they brought?”
“Not great. Their firearms are vastly different from ours. The craftsmen we sent to test them triggered cognitive interference. Thankfully, the testing site was remote, and only one squad of soldiers died.”
The Prince nodded thoughtfully. “So, the more likely scenario is that Duke Cohen developed a new kind of weapon, and that airship—was merely using Castel’s name as cover?”
“Yes. That airship is quite remarkable. We sent people aboard—it really floats in the sky. As for their weapons, while we can’t replicate them, their designs are clever and construction is exquisite. I even feel these guns may not be inferior to what the Royal Army uses.”
“Impossible!”
The Prince rejected the notion without hesitation.
“Enough, let’s not talk about that. What do you think of the airship?”
“A novel toy—or perhaps a plot by the Church.”
“The Church, huh…” The Prince’s expression darkened. “They actually made Joanne the Pope. Those Keepers are insane. They follow prophecy blindly, without a shred of judgment left.”
“Prophecy…” Galahad hesitated. “Your Highness, do such prophecies really exist?”
“They do. There are plenty within the Church. Why do you think those Keepers never leave their sanctums? They only follow the prophecies step by step. They possess tremendous power but can’t achieve a damn thing. That’s the Church for you—wasting everything they have.”
The Prince’s face twisted into scorn. “Hmph, a bunch of fools.”
“Galahad, you must understand, the Church of Candlelight never rose because of prophecy. It rose on the backs of its all-powerful investigators, its mighty Keepers. But now, they’ve forgotten all of that.”
“But that’s also an opportunity.”
The Prince suddenly let out a low chuckle. “They’ve been so careless, handing over the land of Tis to me. I never had a chance before—but now, everything is different.”
“Galahad, be prepared. I have a feeling… the days of peace may be coming to an end—though, they never truly began.”