Chapter Forty-Seven: Arthur’s Guest

In front of the main entrance to Dunkirk City Hall lies the largest municipal square in Dunkirk. On ordinary days, this is a place where children frolic and idlers seek shade; but now, a blizzard has swept over everything, thick layers of snow covering the square. Apart from a single pathway painstakingly cleared by city hall’s laborers, the rest is buried beneath several feet of snow, impenetrable and untouched.

The rectangular square is surrounded by ancient buildings of gray granite, all belonging to the wealthiest and most powerful citizens of Dunkirk Harbor. The Grand Chamber of Commerce, elite salons, upscale hotels and restaurants, and a handful of ultra-luxurious apartments—only the rich and noble can frequent these places. Common folk have no more than the privilege of gazing from the square, watching the world pass by.

Directly opposite the city hall stands the famed Emerald Rose Hotel, renowned for its opulence. The hotel’s shadowy owner is the United Chamber of Commerce of Dunkirk, whose headquarters occupy the ground floor.

At this moment, within the highest suite of the Emerald Rose Hotel, Arthur reclines on a sofa, squinting his single eye at a shimmering globe of water suspended in mid-air. Inside the water sphere, the figures of Blackbeard, Lin Qi, and their companions move—every gesture and action laid bare.

The fireplace crackles with burning pinewood, filling the room with warmth akin to spring. Besides Arthur, several others occupy the suite.

Standing behind Arthur’s sofa is a towering, dark-skinned giant, clad only in tight leather trousers, his muscular torso bare. Bald and so black he seems to absorb light, only the whites of his eyes stand out. He is an indigenous man from the Black Spirit Continent, two thousand miles across the sea to the south.

Muscles like knotted ropes, the man stands like a lion, his sharp gaze sweeping over everyone but Arthur, clearly a loyal bodyguard. At his waist hangs a massive ivory-handled scimitar, nearly six feet long and thick—its lethality unmistakable.

Facing Arthur, seated in a single chair, is a young man of breathtaking beauty.

To call him extraordinary is an understatement; his looks far outshine Arthur’s, so much so that the handsome Arthur seems but a stone beside a gemstone, a chasm between them. Golden hair and eyes, skin milky white, features exquisitely handsome, surpassing even the finest maidens, lending him an androgynous beauty that steals breath.

He sits there in a simple black robe, yet seems to wear the full regalia of an emperor, his very presence radiant. Upon his knees rests a thick, ancient tome bound in black leather, and he watches the water sphere with keen interest, observing Blackbeard and Lin Qi.

Flanking this youth on the sofas sit three young men and two young women. Two of the men wear the garb of warriors, the third is dressed in a black robe, while the two girls—evidently twin sisters—are clad in crimson robes.

Though the two sisters are strikingly beautiful, their expressions remain severe and cold as glaciers, unapproachable. Upon their left breasts is an emblem, palm-sized: a holy cross wreathed in flames, floating beneath a crown.

This is the mark of high-ranking clergy from the Church’s Cardinal Chamber. Those who wear such crimson robes hold exalted positions; their authority, when traveling abroad, equals that of a bishop within a diocese.

Arthur’s gaze repeatedly flickers to the faces of the twin maidens, his lips twitching with regret at their icy demeanor. Such remarkable beauties, and so young—yet already high-ranking clergy. What a waste of their gifts.

Sighing inwardly at the squandering of talent, Arthur lazily straightens, pointing to Lin Qi within the water sphere and speaking coldly, “Honorable Lord Elham, this is Lin Qi, my foster father’s only son—a thorough scoundrel, a true little ruffian.”

The radiant, solemn, and unapproachable youth in black nodded slowly, speaking in a low voice, “Your foster father is intriguing—a knight of celestial rank. His guards are all peak knights. Hmm, your proposal for cooperation grows more interesting.”

Tilting his head thoughtfully, Elham laughed lightly, “Your foster father is scheming for the mayor’s position in Dunkirk?”

Arthur replied with mocking scorn, “He will likely aim for the position of provincial governor as well—in other words, he wishes to become a high official of the Empire. And with the wealth he commands, barring unforeseen events, he stands a good chance of success.”

Elham’s curiosity was clearly piqued; he smiled, “Oh? That’s quite impressive. Should your foster father become a provincial governor, serve in that post for several years, and then suffer some sudden misfortune—and your nominal brother Lin Qi vanishes—you would inherit his estate and his power, would you not?”

Arthur frowned, shaking his head, “Lin Qi may disappear, but my foster father must be spared. I must admit he treats me well, so I don’t wish for any harm to befall him. One thing does not preclude the other—I desire his vast fortune, but I will not harm him!”

Elham sighed softly, regarding Arthur with pity and shaking his head, “These are the most tedious sentiments of you sinners. But I respect your choice—since we are partners, I honor your wishes and will use my power to help fulfill your desire.”

Arthur spoke with care, “Lord Elham, such cooperation benefits us both, does it not? You help me obtain what I seek, and when I have it, I will become your most devout follower. My strength will be of use to you as well.”

Elham smiled modestly, nodding, “Indeed, I am here by His Majesty’s command to expand the Church’s influence in the Gaul Empire. I need someone like you. So, let us settle it—Lin Qi will disappear soon, as you wish. As for your foster father, let him become mayor of Dunkirk and governor of Yasen Province!”

Arthur rubbed his hands in excitement, lifting a bottle of sparkling wine and smiling as he addressed Elham, “Shall we have a drink?”

Elham nodded indifferently, “In the original doctrine, alcohol—substances that cause loss of mental control—is one of the original sins. To those old relics, drinking is an unforgivable crime. But we are different; times have changed, and we must keep pace!”

With a slight smile, Elham nodded, “Let’s have a drink. I prefer wines with a gentle flavor.”

A soft clink sounded as several glasses met.

Elham’s calm voice rang out: “Ya, Ling, go and probe Lin Qi.”