Facing an army of ten thousand, Terman wisely chose not to resist. Westflow City was not like Pramisburg; it was wealthy and affluent, with a far higher proportion of wealthy residents than most cities. The people living here were not destitute commoners struggling to survive the next meal. They had wealth, status, and power, and could not afford to gamble everything like the people of Pramisburg, fighting endlessly for victory alone.
Since resistance was impossible, why struggle? It was better to leave with dignity than to be dragged out of the city in embarrassment. Leaving did not mean a permanent farewell; perhaps one day an opportunity would arise to transform from a defeated noble into a favored courtier and make a comeback!
When Yoberg learned that Terman had been captured, he felt a slight twinge of irritation. He did not have a close relationship with Terman; harmony between governors and lords never existed, with their conflicts dating back to the founding of the empire. In name, the governor controlled the military and political power of a province, making them the highest-ranking officials and top nobles. However, the tradition of indulging nobles had been inherited from the Holy Empire by Orlando, allowing nobles with fiefdoms to exercise all privileges except tax interception within their territories—within their domains, they were like gods.
This comparison might be disrespectful to the Light God, but it reflected a fact: as rulers of their fiefdoms, nobles held absolute authority, their words carrying the force of law. If they took a dislike to someone, they could casually find an excuse, such as "your hair color does not match my boots today" or "your breathing just affected my mood"; no matter how absurd the reason, they could easily kill a commoner legally, and no reason was needed to kill slaves or commoners. [The social classes were divided into citizens, commoners, freemen, and slaves; in the eyes of nobles, everyone except themselves was a commoner.]
Of course, they did not often act this way; the bloody lessons of history constantly warned all lords that treating their subjects well was the only way to avoid being overthrown by angry mobs. Some did not believe this, and thus became absurd footnotes in history.
The overlapping powers of governors and lords naturally led to mutual hostility. Governors wanted to monopolize power, while lords sought to protect the integrity of their own authority, creating irreconcilable contradictions. Orlando I, a wise ruler, had placed constraints on both nobles and powerful officials like governors.
Thus, Yoberg felt no psychological pressure when setting a trap for Terman; he, like many others, knew that Terman was finished, along with the Bohr family. The Bohr family, which had looked down on others in Westflow City, would now pay for their pride, and Terman would no longer arrogantly boast of his family’s long history. They would need to raise a large sum of money to ransom themselves, then be sent to the capital to live out their days in obscurity, or even starve to death under the gaze of others.
The war dividends of Westflow City were completely divided among the Bell Province noble coalition led by House Leos. This statement sounded a bit awkward, but it was perhaps only outside the capital that terms like "noble coalition" and "city lord coalition" existed, full of a raw, rustic flavor, purely provincial.
But had Terman surrendered too quickly? Why not try to fight? Strike a hard blow to the annoying face of Leos. Why surrender directly when the army arrived at the city gates? Arno had not surrendered; what was Terman surrendering for? Additionally, why not seek help from the governor’s office, which controlled the military and political power of the province? Yoberg believed that while the nobles might not fully obey his will, he could act as a mediator.
In that case, he could also get a share of the benefits, and the Bohr family could naturally be preserved. Yoberg’s irritation could not be shared with others; this matter exceeded his expectations, and what frightened him even more was that he needed to honor the bets placed on Arno’s victory in several capital casinos. Like many nobles, he had an extraordinary passion for profitable businesses. Yoberg also had shares in several large casinos in Milling.
When winning, profits were shared; when losing, one naturally had to pay out. Refusal to pay was an option, but there were also those who held shares in the casinos and would happily help Yoberg pay the debt and then kick him out.
This time, Yoberg had schemed exhaustively, gaining no benefits but instead forming a grudge with Pramisburg.
Facing the anxious gazes of his three trusted city lords, Yoberg finally kept his composure and did not reveal his disappointment or frustration. He held a wine cup to disrupt the view of his face. After a moment, he composed himself, put down the cup, and slowly said, "Don’t worry, I still have a powerful trick up my sleeve."
The three pairs of eager eyes gave Yoberg back some confidence. "My brother-in-law is about to arrive in Bell Province to oversee the imperial hunt on behalf of the emperor. When he comes, I will definitely get even with Arno and Bowen." He paused, thinking, At most five days until he arrives.
The three city lords breathed a sigh of relief. Although Yoberg was somewhat unreliable, the person behind him was a genuine powerful ally—the youngest son of the royal family, the emperor’s favorite, showered with countless favors.
The royal family conducted annual hunts in various regions, on one hand to promote the legitimacy and correctness of royal rule, and on the other hand to provide an outlet for princes who had no chance of inheriting the throne to vent their dissatisfaction.
Yes, the next emperor had long been determined; the imperial tradition of choosing emperors based solely on birth order, regardless of other factors, was unique. The next emperor was Princess Persis Elara Elstine Orlando, referred to as Crown Princess Persis.
As for other princes and princesses, sorry—their birth dates doomed them to have no chance at the throne. Therefore, to appease these princes and princesses who had excellent "reincarnation skills" but chose the wrong birth date, the annual regional hunts were assigned to them.
In essence, this was just a legitimate opportunity for them to go out and indulge in debauchery; during this time, scribes would turn a blind eye to their absurd actions, pretending not to see no matter how outrageous they were.
If these princes and princesses truly committed atrocities, everyone would either endure it or pretend not to see.
Once Yoberg’s brother-in-law arrived in Bell Province, it would be a simple matter to incite him to deal with Arno and Bowen. Yoberg had an inherent advantage: his sister, the prince’s legitimate wife, a noble imperial consort and recognized member of the royal family. It was not easy for a man to please another man, but for a woman to please someone, she only needed to set aside her pride.
While Yoberg schemed about the advantages and benefits he would gain next, Pramisburg endured its pain and continued with the city development plan formulated by Arno. The passion of the people for their work was ignited by the bloody death toll: they were alive, able to create a better tomorrow with their hands, because some had sacrificed their lives. So, what reason was there not to strive to change the city and actively invest in production and construction?
At that moment, in the city lord’s mansion, Arno looked at the long list in his hand, calm as a pool of still water, showing no sign of his current emotional state. Cooper, on the side, demonstrated his upbringing through his actions; even though he had kept his head bowed for over half an hour, the angle between his neck and collar did not change by a hair. Marvin, the veteran soldier, constantly shook his feet, waved his hands, and shrank his neck; if not for the fact that the city lord was sitting in the main seat, he would have dared to roll on the ground.
Alma, as a woman, had a natural advantage; she sat dignifiedly on the soft couch, showing no trace of her past as an experienced prostitute or her current role as the madam of a brothel.
Power was a fascinating thing, quietly changing everyone all the time, whether they were in power or not.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
After a long while, Arno closed the list and directly threw it on the ground. Cooper bent down to pick it up and held it in his hand.
After pondering for a moment, a fierce light flashed in Arno’s eyes. "Those who make mistakes should receive their due punishment; even children know this truth. Although they are my subjects, I cannot 包庇 them just because I am like a parent or elder to them." The atmosphere in the room became solemn. "Send all those on this list to meet the Light God."
The other three people tensed up, and even Marvin, who had been indifferent to his itching discomfort, stared at Arno with wide eyes.
This list contained the names of Pramisburgers who had betrayed the city’s intelligence during this period, unhesitatingly transmitting information and the city’s situation to the enemy through various means, allowing the enemy to know every move and change within the city. In addition to ordinary residents, there were also several groups of merchants. Why had those in power throughout history disliked merchants? Because the smarter and more excellent the merchant, the more restless they were.
These restless merchants would eventually transform from engaging in real industry into outright opportunists. Since they did not favor Arno, they naturally placed their bets on others, and it was only natural for them to cause trouble behind the scenes to ensure their own victory.
This was a list of over two hundred people. Cooper had suggested selecting several representative figures, such as the leaders of certain factions, council members of certain districts, and prominent social figures and merchant leaders. Killing these representative individuals would be enough to intimidate others. But he had not expected that this seemingly young city lord, younger than himself, could be so merciless.
He actually wanted to execute everyone on the list!
Cooper hesitated about whether to persuade Arno, but finally swallowed all his thoughts. He understood that at this moment, killing was more appropriate than leniency. He was not familiar with the intricacies, but Arno was: this was a classic case of on-site patriotic education. While Pramisburgers had defended the city’s dignity with their lives, these cowards in the rear had sought to subvert everything. What a perfect opportunity to further ignite the people’s shared hatred of the enemy and unity, as well as enhance Arno’s prestige in their hearts.
It was a move with multiple benefits!
After Cooper bowed and left, Arno glanced at Marvin, then waved his hand with a mix of anger and amusement. "Hurry up and leave; you’re annoying me and I’m annoying myself."
Marvin’s face immediately broke into a smile, his features scrunching together along with his wrinkles, like a clenched fist. He bounced away, and only then did Arno look at Alma. "How are the spies in Milling City progressing?"
Alma quickly replied respectfully, "I have done my best..." Arno frowned, and Alma trembled, finishing her sentence in one breath. "I have placed spies in various noble households, but their current ranks are not high, so they may not be able to gather much important information. However, there are several girls in the governor’s mansion who have completed their tasks well. They have sent word that the little prince will arrive in Bell Province soon for the winter hunt, and Yoberg seems to have a plan to deal with you."
Arno nodded thoughtfully, noncommittal. "Continue to increase your efforts; I want to know even the color of the underwear he is wearing at this moment. I will allocate another ten thousand gold coins for funds—do not let down my trust in you."
After Alma left with her orders, Arno relaxed his straight back and slumped in the chair without noble grace. He picked up the bell beside him and rang it; the chief maid quickly pushed open the door and entered.
"What is your command?"
Arno looked at the chief maid, unable to say whether he was happy or sad. "I have a question for you."
"Please speak, my lord!" The chief maid lowered her head and bent slightly.
"I gave my trust to someone, but received betrayal in return. Before this, someone told me not to trust that person, but I believed everyone should have the right to choose. Reality has shown that I lost." He sighed deeply. "What do you think I should do?"
The chief maid clenched her teeth, her face changing, and her body gradually began to tremble.
Arno continued, "You arranged for that woman to assassinate me, didn’t you? You also leaked the city lord’s mansion guard rotation time, and informed others when I left the mansion for the out-of-city manor. Now, even what I do every day, what I say, and who I meet are all reported to those in Milling City by you."
He looked at the chief maid, who was around forty years old. Due to her good life as the chief maid in the city lord’s mansion, she was well-maintained and looked only thirty-three or thirty-four, exuding the charm of a young married woman. Dressed in a steward uniform, she had a touch of heroism. Although not particularly beautiful, her temperament was excellent, far beyond that of ordinary village women.
"You have a daughter, a son, and a husband. Your daughter has been betrothed to a wealthy merchant’s illegitimate son, and they are to marry in the spring. Your son is only nine years old, and I hear you plan to send him to school in Milling City; he is smart and lively. Your husband is a kind man who, despite your comfortable salary, still does odd jobs in a merchant caravan." Arno’s tone was distant and unpredictable. "What a good family… Why couldn’t you believe in me?"
He did not move his head, only shifting his eyes to 斜视 the trembling chief maid. "Don’t you think it’s cruel for such a happy family to be destroyed in an instant?"
The chief maid could no longer bear the pressure. With a thud, she knelt on the ground, shaking her legs and kneeling forward to Arno, kowtowing forcefully. The city lord’s mansion was always luxuriously decorated, representing the dignity of the noble ruler. The floor, made of white and blood-red marble, was as smooth as a mirror, reflecting all kinds of light and even capable of showing people’s reflections.
Each time the chief maid kowtowed, a splash of blood appeared, and the splattering blood droplets even flew a meter or two away. Her vision darkened, the world spun, and her body swayed precariously. She forced herself not to fall, continuously banging her head on the ground like a drum.
In fact, she, like many others, had initially not believed that Arno would remain as city lord for long. She was certain he would either embarrassedly roll back to the capital or mysteriously die in a foreign land. No one truly believed that this nineteen-year-old boy named Arno could gain a foothold in a city filled with villains, scum, murderers, and various mixed forces.
In the past, she had resisted, with morality and professional ethics prevailing, and had not accepted bribes. But when city lords died and others became rich while she remained poor, she had finally given in. The last time, when the city lord had been there for half a year and was planning to use force, she had still resisted betraying him, but others had betrayed him, and that gentle thirty-year-old city lord had died in his bathtub. The time before that, she had tried selling some information to outsiders and reaped great benefits, though the city lord had eventually been forced to leave and return to the capital.
The previous time, with Arno’s predecessor, she had no longer considered morality or professional ethics when betraying the city lord; simply handing over a few pieces of information each day earned her several to dozens of silver coins, and occasionally an important piece of information could even fetch two gold coins. Her family’s situation had been completely transformed by her actions: her daughter no longer had to wear patched clothes and endure the contempt and abuse of wealthy families’ mistresses while washing clothes in freezing winters and scorching summers for meager pay.
Her son could now wear decent clothes, his face no longer showing the gauntness of malnutrition, and could play freely in the streets, laughing heartily.
Her husband no longer had to endure the scolding of employers or do demeaning tasks that no one else wanted, exchanging dignity and self-respect for family necessities.
Her parents and mother-in-law no longer had to fear the arrival of winter or dance on the edge of death to save on heating costs.
Had she done wrong?
No, she had not used the money to buy gold and silver jewelry or gorgeous clothes for herself. All the money had been spent on her family, making her selfless—selfless for her family, selfless for her loved ones.
But while she was being selfless, the nobles who had died or left in disgrace because of her selflessness had not received fairness or selflessness in return.
When you gain something, you are doomed to lose something else.
Arno sighed. If the merchant guild had not uncovered this clue, and if he had not asked Alma to monitor the families of all staff in the city lord’s mansion, he might never have known that this castle, which should have given him a sense of security, was filled with cold and deadly treachery.
Looking at the chief maid, who was on the verge of losing consciousness but holding on by sheer willpower, he felt some affection after two months of coexistence. But this affection only made Arno more angry and restless, filled with an extreme desire for destruction.
He dropped a dagger, adorned with gemstone inlays and gold-thread edges, which bounced on the ground with a clear ring. The sound rallied the chief maid’s fading consciousness. She held the dagger backward, the tip pointing at her left heart, and a small patch of red appeared where the sharp tip pressed into her chest. Her eyes were filled with pleading and tears, her expression sorrowful, her lips moving but making no sound.
Arno looked at her with cold eyes. She gritted her teeth and thrust the dagger into her body.
"Spare… spare my family, please."
Arno laughed coldly, stood up, and looked down at her like an annoying fly or mosquito. "Don’t worry, your family will soon come to join you."
With that, in the chief maid’s fading eyes, Arno passed through the side door behind the seat and disappeared.
The cold floor leached the warmth from her body, which grew as cold and stiff as the ground itself.
In the treacherous struggle for power, there was no room for excessive mercy or compassion.
Victors naturally enjoyed endless applause and praise, while losers rotted in places beyond the reach of public sight.
