I will be crowned king

Clovis Cathedral, small prayer room.

"Old Luther, did you hear clearly? I am talking to you very seriously!"

An unpleasant voice echoed through the walls, urgent and anxious: "This is already the second time. Do you want me to repeat it a third time?!"

"For your throat's sake, it's best not to."

Standing in front of the statue of the Ring of Order, Archbishop Luther turned his back to the owner of the voice and said calmly: "If I remember correctly, you accidentally swallowed the fish bone last month, so please follow the doctor's advice. "

"Besides...this is the prayer room. I don't want to make a noise with you in front of the Circle of Order. It would be degrading, my respected Lady Katarina."

"Decent?"

Katarina sneered: "My dear Luther, you really have the courage to discuss this with me here...huh?!"

The prayer room fell into dead silence.

Luther Franz, who had no expression on his face, supported the sculpture and sighed slightly in his heart.

He turned around, and a graceful lady with sharp eyes appeared in his field of vision, coldly examining himself as the archbishop.

"My great head of the Railroad Commission, what do you want to do?"

"Just one thing, take care of your daughter!"

Mrs. Katarina took a half step forward: "She is still young and doesn't understand how dangerous what she is doing is, but as a father, you are indulging in it, making it unclear whether you want to help her. Still planning to harm her!"

"When you say that, it confuses me even more." Archbishop Luther said calmly:

"As we all know, she spends far more time with you than with me; I'm ashamed to say that you know my lovely eldest daughter better than I do - if you can't persuade her, how can I possibly do it."

"Besides, this matter is completely within your authority, as long as you don't lend her the train. Don't worry, just blame it on me. She will never be angry with you."

"Then, implement her crazy plan in a more dangerous way?!" Katarina's eyes widened:

"Old Luther, don't you know how stubborn Sophia is?"

"So you want me to lock her at home, lock her in a secret room that she can never leave...or go further, put her in shackles?" Archbishop Luther asked:

"Well, maybe I need to borrow some people from the Inquisition."

Seeing his serious look, Mrs. Catalina wished she could just take it away and said: "I didn't intend to joke with you!"

"I'm not joking with you, Mrs. Catarina." The Archbishop narrowed his eyes slightly:

"Without the permission of the royal family and the Privy Council, you have secretly relocated a factory with thousands of workers that produces munitions such as artillery and explosives. Once discovered, you should know better than me what the crime is."

"In comparison, house arrest...is already the least bad outcome."

Katarina was silent.

She looked at Luther Franz as if nothing had happened. Under that face, which was always as calm as a lake, there was a heart that no one could see through, and he would not easily reveal his weak side.

But what would it be like for a father to imprison his youngest and only daughter with his own hands?

She didn't know, she could only imagine.

The only thing that can be foreseen is that Sophia will be more extreme, more persistent, and crazier than now; the relationship between father and daughter will be completely incompatible, and even turn against each other.

"Does this work?"

The noble lady, who had touched the softest part of her heart, spoke with a hoarse voice.

"Oh, it's probably useless." The Archbishop still said in the same calm tone:

"As you said, even if we don't hand the train over to her, it won't stop this crazy plan. It's conceivable that the chains and shackles probably don't mean much."

"With her habits, I am afraid that the newly promoted Brigadier General Anson Bach who is far away in Beluga Port has already learned the information that he was regarded as an abandoned son by Crowe, so even if it is really possible to trap her, it will be too late... Considering the colony There is a possibility of rebellion at any time, tens of millions of national assets will be wiped out, and a standing army of thousands of people is likely to become rebels; at this time, the issue of whether to retain a military factory does not seem to be a big deal. ,what do you think?"

Luther Franz patted the dust on the statue and looked at the lady calmly.

Katarina was stunned and dumbfounded.

"You knew this already?!"

"No, I don't know." The archbishop shook his head and calmly sat down on the chair next to him: "As you know, my father is far inferior to you in terms of understanding of his daughter."

"But things are universally connected. The only reason you hear the music is because someone plucked the strings; Clovis made the decision to abandon the colony, and he ran the risk that the colony would rebel."

"In the event of a rebellion, Sophia Franz, the Governor of Ice Dragon Fjord... will be the first person responsible, and will not be able to escape no matter what."

The prayer room fell silent.

Luther Franz, who was sitting on the chair, leaned forward slightly, took out a letter stamped by Franz from his pocket, held it between his fingers and handed it to the lady:

"So you see, I didn't stop her, except because to a certain extent it was not Sophia's responsibility, but more because I couldn't stop her at all - as you know, I don't know her as well as you and have the ability to convince her. .”

"……I see."

With some residual surprise, Katarina slowly spoke after a long silence: "You hope I can help her, don't you, old Luther?"

"This is your own understanding, madam." The archbishop's tone suddenly softened:

"But considering it won't do you any harm, so...why not?"

"No harm?" The lady sat directly opposite the old man and snorted coldly:

"An accessory to the relocation of the military factory, suspected of arms smuggling and participation in colonial rebellion...Are you worried that Fia will not have a companion when she is hanged?"

"I have to commend you for your thorough understanding of the consequences of leaking secrets." Luther Franz said with a smile:

"With the help of a cautious and mature elder like you, the probability of success of the plan will be greatly improved."

"Stop doing this!"

Katarina raised her eyebrows: "Why?"

"Why do I ask for your help, or why do you acquiesce to Sophia's path of no return?"

"...let's talk about the last one first!"

"Simple, this is the same reason why I sent Anson Bach to Moby Dick - Clovis needs them, but Clovis can't give them anything, and will even betray them."

The archbishop took his time and handed the envelope forward again: "Since you are selling yourself, you should at least sell yourself for a good price with confidence, what do you think?"

"Even if the outcome is that my daughter is arrested and executed for treason?"

"Oh, we'd better not jump to conclusions so quickly; the potential of young people is endless, and Sophia... haha, I think many people underestimate her too much, just like those who underestimated you."

"As for me, the last thing an unqualified father can say to comfort me is probably the words 'I believe in my daughter.'"

Mrs. Catalina, with complicated eyes, finally laid her eyes on the letter:

"What's this?"

"A letter that would be very dangerous if sent by me personally." The Archbishop said lightly: "If you feel that Sophia Franz should not become a victim of the kingdom, then please send it quietly."

"If you are a loyal subject of the kingdom, give it to the Privy Council - not to His Majesty the King. I know Carlos well, and he will ignore it because of the long friendship between us. It will only arouse the disgust of His Majesty. Bad for you.”

The lady said nothing.

After a pause, she silently picked up the letter and stood up to leave.

"Old Luther, if...if you were as patient as you are now..."

Katarina stopped in front of the door and said without looking back: "Sophia, she was supposed to be my daughter."

"She is also now." The archbishop stared at the lady's back:

"And you seem to have forgotten that I am so much older than you and already have a wife and a son; I can't risk others treating you as a mistress and do immoral things...that would be bad for your reputation."

Katarina snorted coldly, gritted her teeth and walked out of the prayer room:

"...I didn't say I cared about that."

……………………

Beluga Port, north of the city, near the bank construction site.

On the windy and snowy street, Ian Clemens held down the brim of his top hat, lowered his head and walked quickly through the rows of signboards. When he was about to leave the street, he suddenly turned around and walked into the narrow alley between two warehouses. mouth.

Almost at the same time, the figure of the Wild Hunt Knight appeared at the end of the narrow alley, wrapped in a worn stand-collar coat, a patched peaked cap and an old scarf almost covering his entire face, leaning against a wall full of sewage, smoking a newspaper Rolled cigarettes.

"The informant's location has been found."

Ian stopped and spoke, throwing an exquisite cigarette case to Wild Hunt Knight Derek:

"Old Cripple Tavern, table No. 2, sit there and order a glass of 'normal' Tirpitz rum. The bartender will ask you for a tip. Just hand him a cigarette from this cigarette case and you can trade."

"clear."

Hiding the cigarette case into his coat pocket with his backhand, Derek looked around curiously: "By the way, where did Carno go? Isn't he with you?"

"Stalking in the tavern." Ian replied: "You know, informants are generally very cautious. It is better not to use the power of blood or magic props. After entering the door, meet him first and confirm that it is safe before starting the transaction. "

"Okay, so where is he?"

"There is a seat on the inner left side after entering the tavern. It is dressed as a fisherwoman."

"Fishwoman?" Derek was stunned for a moment, and he seemed to want to smile but suppressed it:

"How many times has this happened? Could it be that he is addicted to cross-dressing?"

Ian chuckled and said in a pretensely serious tone: "No, it's because many porters on the construction site are sailors and fishermen at the port. Winter is here and they have nothing to do; fisherwomen pretending to be worried about their husbands are less likely to do so. Easily noticed.”

"Besides, he still refuses to cut off his long hair."

"I knew it..." Derek curled his lips, patted Ian on the shoulder and turned to leave.

The former leader of the Knights did not stop and continued to move forward - he would enter the tavern from the opposite direction to the Wild Hunt Knights and be responsible for the finishing work in the event of an accident.

To be honest, if there was a slight possibility, he would not do such a thing of betraying or even hunting down informants; although the Faithless Knights have deep roots in the New World, most of their relationships cannot be surfaced. The exchanges between the two parties completely rely on mutual trust, and this kind of trust is difficult to establish but not too easy to destroy.

Once discovered, they will completely lose all foreign aid and intelligence networks in the past, and become the drowned dogs that everyone calls out - of course, they already are.

But this is the price...the price of choosing to seek refuge with Anson Bach and accepting his protection; even though he knows that he is just a pawn used against his past companions, and is ordered to personally kill the friends who have helped him, it is impossible to reject this superior... Brigadier General's order.

With a slightly heavy heart, Ian opened the door and walked into the Old Cripple Tavern.

Then...he froze in place.

According to the three people's prior plan, Derek started trading after "meeting" with Carno. Then Carno left the tavern and ambush nearby to prepare for any eventuality; Ian monitored the situation in the tavern hall and was responsible for informing and finishing the work.

In other words, even if it were the most coincidental situation, the moment he entered the door, he should only see Carno who was about to leave, and Derek who was confirming the password with the bartender.

But at this moment, Derek was sitting at the bar at a loss, waiting anxiously for the bartender. At the same time, Carno was also missing.

The two quickly completed the exchange with their eyes. Derek stood up and walked to the second floor of the tavern, while Ian sat in Carno's previous seat and waited quietly.

Of course they knew where the informant was, and they pretended to be a deal just to make sure nothing went wrong.

Two minutes later, Ian stood up slowly, avoiding the eyes of people around him, and followed Derek's figure just now and walked to the second floor of the pub.

Along the not-so-wide corridor in the opposite direction to the guest room, a room that looks exactly like a utility room but is actually an office is where the "transaction" between the two parties takes place.

And this tavern is actually an empty shell, or a "middleman" - the real tavern owner is actually the bartender himself. If the informants who hold important information plan to trade, they will transform into the tavern owner... temporarily. .

Gently pushing the door open, Ian saw the "missing" Carno and Derek standing on either side of the door, standing motionless like stiff sculptures.

Following the line of sight of the two of them, a figure hanging in mid-air appeared in his field of vision - the bartender with a distorted expression was hung from the ceiling by a rusty iron chain, his face twisted so ferociously that it glowed with a cold blue-purple color. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth onto the desk.

The cold wind whizzed through the messy room along the windows and pushed open doors, taunting them mercilessly.