Chapter 127: Light and Dark (Twenty-Four)
Speaking of the Eastern Continent, aside from the settlements of the lowly, scrabbling Hill Dwellers, the two copper coins you’d need to land a night with a Wakhiri prostitute, and that infamous desert saint land where exotic birds dance around camels and absurd rumors fly, there resides a cult more terrifying to the people of the Western Continent than a raging drunkard’s rants.
It’s called “The Gate of Truth.”
Duke Lex had heard some murmurs about them. They were a group of bloodthirsty fiends who had tossed human morality and emotions out the window like yesterday’s trash.
As his encounters with the Black Robes deepened, he began to suspect that these people… might indeed be the Gate of Truth. The way they talked, their peculiar habits, the odd, often unintentionally sinister remarks, and that inflexible mentality unique to cultists all hinted that the Black Robes had an unwavering belief more sacred than life itself—yet, it was abundantly clear that they were not part of the Holy Church.
If they weren’t with the Holy Church, then regardless of whether they were the Gate of Truth or not, they were definitely a pack of those cursed heretics.
But they were also closely associated with a prominent nun from the Church…
d*mn those religious power struggles!
After piecing together these jigsaw puzzles, Duke Lex felt something he had never experienced before: the gnawing discomfort of insomnia. He called his son over and, pointing a finger (talk about parental authority), dressed him down, asserting that the family legacy he had spent a lifetime building was teetering on the brink of collapse thanks to his stupidity. Naturally, his arrogant son was indignant, yet he seemed blissfully unaware of what screw-up he was actually guilty of.
Duke Lex stripped him of all power and had him thrown in a cell.
After that, he spent quite some time mulling over things.
The sin of heresy was one of the gravest offenses according to the Holy Church’s religious laws; you’d lose everything and be tossed into the Underground Prison for eternal torment and punishment until d*ath claimed you. If things went south, the whole clan could get dragged down with him—whether himself, his son, no one could escape.
What to do?
Duke Lex practically itched to cut ties with those folks immediately. He even entertained the thought of personally reporting them to the Church, letting those clerics handle the Black Robes.
But then he reconsidered: if he did that… he might end up hiding in Flessk Castle, forever gazing up at that little girl on the throne.
Not to mention, he had already been assisting the heretics for a long time. If the Church pried into it, he’d be guilty as charged—couldn’t shift the blame even if he tried!
Since things had come to this…
Why not flip a coin and take a gamble to see if it lands heads or tails?
After over ten days of insomnia-driven contemplation, Duke Lex reached that audacious decision. That evening, he tracked down the Black Robes and laid all the cards on the table, discussing matters long into the night. By morning, he returned to his lavish castle, glanced around the empty reception hall, and flopped down onto the soft sofa, deep in contemplation.
To this day, he remembers feeling like that.
Lonely and anxious, yet aflame with resolve.
For a long while afterward, he plunged into preparation, raiding the treasury like a kid in a candy store, luring young, strapping lads—yes, even knights—into the Iron Guard, pressing on with recruitment without even a shred of modesty—yet spreading some false rumors as cover.
The Royal City only knew that the Iron Guard boasted an organization of over twenty thousand. In truth, by the end of last year, their ranks had close to fifty thousand!
Meanwhile, Duke Lex’s cooperation with the Black Robes became ever more intimate. He did everything to meet their reasonable and unreasonable demands—yes, even providing them with more children. Following that late-night heart-to-heart, the Black Robes began to trust him, allowing him to see a bit more into their world.
For instance, Duke Lex had witnessed one of their little “ceremonies” involving a child.
He remembered it was a little girl, probably not yet ten. Years of hunger had stripped her down to practically skin and bones, as fragile as a leaf, and despite her frailness, she spilled quite a bit of bl**d. The Black Robes ignored her frantic struggles as one of them sliced her throat, bl**d gushing like a fountain into a dirty wooden basin.
The last time Duke Lex had seen something like that was back at the ranch when watching a shepherd slaughter a cow.
After draining the little girl’s bl**d, they stripped her bare on a chopping board, mincing her into a bloody pulp for the wild dogs out on the street while keeping the heart, liver, and other organs to toss into boiling water with spices… They even had the audacity to ask him if he wanted a taste.
That night, Duke Lex was wide awake.
Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was that little girl’s mouth gaping and her pupils dilating.
He wasn’t new to d*ath.
In fact, he had seen more corpses than living folks; he had lost count of how many he had killed.
But even with bl**d on his hands, witnessing such a scene left him feeling nauseous and physically unwell. For a long while after, he became a vegetarian.
d*mn those heretics…
What a beastly display! Those rumors about them? All true. He finally understood just how twisted humanity could become.
Those Black Robes had long lost the moral compass; they were complete demons, no longer deserving to be called human.
They should let the Church burn all of them alive…
Such thoughts flashed through his mind, but only for a moment.
In the end, Duke Lex said nothing, did nothing. He chose to turn a blind eye to the Black Robes’ actions, acting as if he were unaware of everything, continuing to provide them with fresh “bl**d,” still cavorting with demons.
Because the Black Robes told him these “bl**d offerings” were vital to their plan to destroy Boswell. The reason behind this was merely to test a theoretical method, and they claimed to have made significant progress.
They were about to succeed.
Duke Lex didn’t understand why it had to be this way nor why the destruction of a Divine Reliquary required the bl**d of children, acts that stripped the soul of humanity.
And he certainly didn’t want to know; why should he welcome more worry?
Even while cursing in his head, even while harboring disgust for the Black Robes’ ever more brazen demands, he still chose to comply.
He told himself it was a necessary evil for the grand scheme in his mind.
This was…
A necessary evil.
By the time winter passed, those homeless children would inevitably d*e of hunger or freeze to d*ath.
As for those black-robed beasts…
Once this was all over, he’d take care of them.
Such filth shouldn’t remain in this world.
Having made such a decision, Duke Lex treated the Black Robes as usual, accommodating their every request, which kept everything running smoothly.
Until one day, Elizabeth suddenly cut off his funding. She had even allied with the Church to nullify the treasury management act that had been imposed by the late Empress and enforced a new decree in the Royal City.
The vault was no longer open to him. His nephew, the finance minister, was soon locked up as well.
Many who had initially supported him and profited from the arrangement began to jump ship, siding with Elizabeth and turning against him, seeking to purge him of his influence and establish a new council.
d*mn those fence-sitters! d*mn Elizabeth…
I’ve got so many on my payroll; is she trying to incite a riot in Flessk Castle?
Is she trying to get me killed?
But soon after, he heard another piece of bad news: the Church had caught wind of the shipments headed to the Royal City. Two Pope Knights had arrived there, one of whom was the infamous Carlos Gonzalez, the Abyss Walker.
They must be here for those Black Robes…
Duke Lex was completely unsettled.
The arrival of the two Pope Knights made him realize that things were spiraling out of control. Just when he felt helpless, the Black Robes sprang a surprise on him.
One night, they approached him, declaring that their plan was in its final stages. It wouldn’t be long before Boswell was erased from this world once and for all.
This was nothing short of…
Blessed assistance.
They revealed the impending events that would unfold in the Royal City and asked for his help with one final task.
To smuggle an “item” out of Ethanbel.
Heaven knows how elated Duke Lex felt; he didn’t even think twice before agreeing.
After all, he had no intention of fulfilling any promises.
Duke Lex didn’t know what the Black Robes were trying to smuggle out at the cost of Divine Reliquary destruction, but he imagined it must be something atrociously harmful. He didn’t want to continue aiding these soulless beasts; once things wrapped up, not one of those Black Robes would walk away alive—best to play it smooth for now.
Following this, his grand ambitions would also enter the crucial final stage.
He only needed to focus on two things.
One was how to shed the label of colluding with heretics. The other was the financial crisis looming over Flessk Castle.
As for how to wage this war… as long as those two issues were resolved, once Boswell fell, the city wouldn’t stand a chance—it would crumble like dry twigs, no need for overthinking.
After all, this was his forte. He believed no one in Ethanbel could surpass him in this realm. Old Leikmon certainly couldn’t, nor could that impudent little girl.
He already had plans brewing in his mind.
But right now, the expenditures of the Iron Guard were too hefty. The castle’s accumulated funds couldn’t sustain much longer—maybe until the end of April at best… or possibly even mid-April without a single coin left!
With the rushed recruitment lacking strict controls, most of the Iron Guard were in it for the pay. Many were mercenaries and dangerous outlaws. Trust was absent, and if the money dried up, they’d definitely turn on him.
Duke Lex had to find new sources of income, at least enough to carry him through the siege… that wasn’t chump change!
After mulling it over, he decided to revert to his old, favored method—the quickest way: robbing others.
But who to rob?
Without breaching the laws of war, Duke Lex had but one choice.
It seemed… it was time for that woman to go.
To let her serve her last bit of utility.
Duke Lex wrote a letter that night to the forgettable Empress in the Royal City, pressuring her under the crime of “poisoning the King,” compelling her to do as he instructed in exchange for her and her daughter’s safety—he knew well enough that with her pig-headed stupidity, she wouldn’t be a bother to Elizabeth, not even a little bit.
He held no expectations of her; he only wanted her to act, divert Elizabeth’s attention, distract her, spread misinformation, and delay her realization of his movements for as long as possible.
Then, he summoned his finest, most trusted assassin, offering a hefty reward to lead a team into the Royal City once more.
Duke Lex was aware of the impending upheaval in the Royal City, knowing full well many lives would be lost. To pacify the populace’s anger, the Church and Elizabeth would undoubtedly want to hold an extravagant funeral ceremony for public viewing.
He painstakingly instructed the assassin step by step on how to frame the Empress for the charges of colluding with heretics once the time came.
With everything in order, Duke Lex marched northward with his newly obedient son, heading to that wretched woman’s hometown.
