I will be crowned king

Chapter 471 Ian Clemens

Along with the plain words, the quiet air was like an ancient well with stones thrown into it. Suddenly there were faint ripples on the empty seats, and a tall, thin man wearing a black long-sleeved windbreaker, almost translucent, appeared.

He wore a half-high black top hat, with a stand-up collar and a gray scarf to cover his face, revealing only dark gray hair, dark brown eyes, a high nose, and an obviously malnourished look.

Looking at the wine glass Anson pushed over, the other party did not hide his surprise at all; he tentatively stretched out his hand to hold the glass, and after confirming again and again that Anson was not hostile, he picked up the wine glass and leaned back.

“Your insight is truly amazing.”

Looking at Anson, who was sitting opposite him with a leisurely expression, the man in black played with the wine glass in his hand, and the ice cubes made a crisp sound between the walls of the glass: "In my limited knowledge, anyone who can expose me within an hour... No more than one hand.”

"Within one minute, there are only four including you."

"You are so polite." Anson chuckled and took a sip of rum:

"An old friend once told me that even if talented people don't know each other's identities, they will still attract each other and sense each other."

"It makes sense - someone who can say such wise words must be a... gifted person who is proficient in insight abilities." He looked at the ice-cold rum in his hand and carefully put down the glass:

"I must admit that before you exposed my little trick, I spent a lot of time thinking about how to negotiate with you, and what to do to avoid you shouting immediately and letting the soldiers outside take me..."

"Shooted to death?"

Anson raised the corners of his mouth.

"Yes..." He glanced at the car door with his peripheral vision: "But now it seems that I was worrying too much. I didn't expect that the garrison commander was such an easy person to communicate with."

"Let me introduce myself. My name is Ian, Ian Clemens - currently the leader of the 'Faithless Knights'. On behalf of everyone, I come to negotiate with you...the garrison commander of Beluga Port, Colonel Anson Bach. "

The man in black sitting opposite took off his top hat and bowed slightly: "For reasons that we both know very well, I can only have the opportunity to meet you alone in this 'offensive' way; if there is anything that makes you uncomfortable, Please forgive me."

"You want to negotiate?" Anson leaned on the back of his chair and looked at Ian playfully.

"To be precise, it's a summation."

Ian Clemens sat upright and cautiously met Anson's gaze: "We made a huge mistake and made some very impulsive decisions without knowing it; we have already paid for our impulses and mistakes. We paid a heavy price, and now... we want to get it back."

"For example?" Pretending to be relaxed, Anson raised his glass and motioned for the other person to continue, while using the pictures in his mind to observe the other person's subtle expressions and the direction of his gaze.

He is now able to barely activate his "power" without alerting the people around him - of course, this only requires that the other party is not a "black mage" who is extremely good at reading minds.

This is also the most advantageous part of black magic. In a one-on-one situation, even a stronger talent or spellcaster can still have no way to hide in front of a black mage... In the " This is specifically mentioned in the Great Magic Book.

He guessed that this might be one of the reasons why Thalia almost lost to the Lord of the Abyss. She was unprepared and was completely seen through... Of course, Anson would never mention this to her.

"For example... we can guarantee that as long as you allow the rest of us to leave safely, the Faithless Knights will never appear in Beluga Harbor or Ice Dragon Fjord again." Ian replied calmly, very carefully Pay attention to Anson's every move:

"As long as you return the relics and bodies of your dead companions, we guarantee that we will not carry out any acts of revenge against you, nor will we assist others to pose any threat to you; wherever you appear in the future, the Faithless Knights will take the initiative to leave to avoid Any conflict with you.”

"After discussing with my colleagues, this is the condition that I think is the most reasonable, appropriate and sincere."

Ian picked up the rum on the table and took a sip, then said word by word: "But I personally think it's impossible for you to agree...right?"

Anson's pupils shrank suddenly.

In the slightly shaking car, the only sounds that could be heard were the wheels outside and the sound of ice cubes in the two men's glasses.

"Snapped."

Putting down his wine glass, Anson, expressionless, suddenly knocked hard on the carriage door.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

Soon, the shaking car gradually slowed down and stopped.

Ian, who was holding the wine glass, leaned back slightly, pretending to be relaxed and leaning against the car, and suddenly began to look at the ice cubes and rum in the glass.

"commander?"

Fabian's voice sounded outside the carriage.

"Sorry, I won't go back to the military camp for the time being." Looking at the "comfortable" Ian opposite, Anson said with a smile:

"Suddenly I remembered that I had made an appointment with a friend to visit him."

"Understood, do you need to ask the Second Infantry Regiment in the city to set up defenses nearby first?" Fabian asked outside the carriage.

"unnecessary."

Anson said softly: "You guys should go back first...just have a drink, I'll go by myself."

There was suddenly no sound outside the carriage. After nearly a minute of silence, the commander of the Grenadier Corps slowly spoke:

"As you command!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the sound of uniform footsteps of soldiers could be heard outside.

After a few minutes, the surroundings were completely quiet.

Anson picked up his rum again and raised his eyebrows at Ian: "Where are you going?"

"You must be very fond of rum." Ian did not answer Anson's question immediately, but continued to look at the liquid in the glass with a surprised look on his face:

"As far as I know, Tirpitz is a special supply for the Clovis Navy. The Army can generally only get a small amount of other brands, and the quality is not very good."

"Fortunately, I happened to know a pub in the port area - the food and everything else was terrible, but it had black rum specially smuggled from Port Adland."

Anson nodded slightly and lightly kicked the carriage:

"To the port area."

The carriage shook again and headed towards the port area.

"But... what surprised me the most was that the dignified garrison commander turned out to be a conjurer."

Ian sat upright again and said to Anson with some solemnity: "Don't get me wrong, I don't have any intention to ridicule you - after all, we ourselves are traitors to the Circle of Order and have no ill feelings towards the followers of the Three Old Gods."

"In fact, it was precisely because of this that I made up my mind to take a gamble and meet you; you can probably hear from the conditions just now that my companion does not think this is the right decision."

"It turns out that they are completely wrong. You are not that kind of extreme fanatic - I think your handling of the White Whale Harbor Council alone can prove this. You can obviously kill them all and rebuild the council, but But we made huge concessions to them in exchange for at least superficial stability." Ian boasted unabashedly:

"So I think as long as it's profitable, it can make you forget a lot of the past festivals."

It depends on how big the "profit" is, otherwise I can be very vindictive... Anson chuckled: "Then what do you want?"

Ian did not answer immediately. He paused for a few seconds and then said in a deep voice:

"We want to stay in Moby-Dick Harbor - and not only that, we want to have your protection, but also 'official' protection, the kind that allows us to move around the entire colony as we please."

"This is our asking price. You can mention any conditions you want. As long as they are achievable, we will accept them all."

After saying that, he sat there quietly holding the wine glass, waiting for Anson's reply.

This time, Anson was silent. He nodded slightly and pretended to be thinking.

He insists that what he cannot accept the most right now is that this group of untrustworthy knights will secretly escape from the colony; although the fact that he is a spellcaster is no longer a secret to Clovis's trial court, he does not believe that a group of imperial traitors will Go to the church and report yourself...but as long as there is such a possibility, it is an extremely serious threat.

Without even having to speak, the other party had already eliminated his biggest concerns and actively asked to stay under his nose.

But soon, he thought of a good choice:

"The Great Magic Book."

"What?"

Ian was stunned for a moment, his expression was blank, as if he didn't understand what Anson was saying.

"An unknown author's surname is an important book that records all magic and the truth about the fall of the Three Old Gods from ancient times to the present. It was once obtained by Saint Isaac, but was lost after his death." Anson explained:

"You also said that I am an Old God sect...and I am very interested in the Encyclopedia of the Old God world. Is there anything strange about this?"

"No, but I don't know anything about the existence of this book." Ian frowned slightly:

"How can I give it to you if I don't even know it exists?"

"It doesn't matter. Not many people in the world know its whereabouts. I don't expect to get a whole "Big Magic Book" from you."

Anson waved his hand, indicating that the other party should not be nervous: "But your friend named Philby told me that you are from the Empire, so I speculate that you may know its whereabouts, that's all."

The moment he said the name "Philby", there was a flash of panic in the corner of Ian's eyes, but Anson still caught it.

"So you only need us to provide clues about the whereabouts of a certain volume of the "Great Magic Book". I understand that right?" Ian asked thoughtfully.

"Exactly."

Anson smiled slightly and pretended not to hear the inadvertent slip of the tongue: "Of course, I am a conjurer, so I definitely hope to get the part about conjuring magic and Wharton, the controller of destiny - but others are also fine."

"Just tell you clues, or even just a part of the information that cannot be determined?" Ian still couldn't believe it:

"Don't you need us to look for you?"

"No need - to be honest, I'm just curious about it, and I don't care about it to this extent." Anson chuckled:

"And I'm only twenty-four years old, so I have plenty of time and opportunity to get it myself."

"As long as some clues can be provided, it doesn't matter even if it cannot be completely confirmed; of course, except for the sixth volume of the twelve volumes of the "Great Magic Book" - it is in Clovis Cathedral, I already know this."

"As a condition of return, I can provide you with an official identity that is very suitable for your activities in Beluga Port. We will also let the arrested members go, and you can also take away the bodies and relics of your dead companions."

"Of course, the price is that you occasionally have to obey the orders of the garrison. You are not allowed to leave Beluga Harbor without registration or permission. This applies to the entire garrison. I must treat them equally."

Ian hesitated for a moment, but quickly picked up the wine glass and drank the ice-cold rum in the glass:

"Okay, I agree!"

The smiling Anson clinked glasses with him in the distance and drank up his own wine.

After a while, the carriage slowly stopped outside a street in the port area.

"Do you need me to take you away?" Anson pointed to the car door.

"Thank you for your kindness."

Ian put on the half-top hat again, stroked his chest and saluted Anson: "But no need, I can do it myself."

As he finished speaking, a faint ripple suddenly appeared on his body, gradually becoming transparent as if the color had been taken away, until it completely disappeared.

The next second, the carriage door opened automatically, and two more footprints appeared on the muddy road.

"After I go back, I will discuss your conditions with my companions. Regardless of whether there are any clues about the whereabouts of the "Great Magic Book", I will give you a satisfactory answer at this time tomorrow."

After saying that, Anson couldn't feel the other person's breath at all. Only the opened car door and two footprints on the ground proved that the other person was indeed here just now.

Anson, who pretended that nothing happened, closed the car door and knocked on the car gently:

"Go back to the barracks."

After receiving the order, the coachman shook the reins and the carriage shook again.

The very conspicuous carriage drove through the narrow streets of Beluga Port. In order to avoid the protestors who were returning home in the evening, the carriage driver deliberately chose a more remote road with fewer people.

Just when the carriage was about to turn out of the alley, Anson snapped his fingers, and his body turned into smoke bit by bit. It floated out of the car window that was not closed, and then reunited at the alley and recovered. The original appearance.

Looking at the carriage leaving behind him without noticing, Anson turned around and walked into the alley again.

When he returned to the street, his military coat had been replaced by a tattered blue tuxedo, paired with a deformed dome hat, a yellowed shirt, patched trousers and a pair of pants that smelled of alcohol. A linen scarf that smells like vomit... totally the look of a street drunk.

As soon as he came out of the alley, a tall and thin figure wearing a black top hat came into his sight, blending in with the crowd, walking straight towards a "Red Beard Tavern".

The proud "drunkard" shivered in the cold wind, facing the last sunset in Beluga Harbor, he staggered toward the place that was about to become lively.