Todd rubbed the silver moon in his palm with his fingers, his eyes darting around, and smiled at Sinclair, saying, "Your Highness, there's no need to worry. Business will always continue, but my master is more concerned about whether this cooperation can continue."

Sinclair asked, puzzled, "What do you mean by that?"

Todd shrugged: "One day, if you ascend the throne..."

Sinclair waved his hand impatiently: "I already told him that everything will be done according to tradition."

Todd asked, "Tradition?"

Sinclair gave him a strange look, frowned, and said, "Didn't your master tell you about the traditions of Holy Guard City?"

Tode replied vaguely, "My master mentioned some things, but not in detail."

Sinclair nodded: "Felicel, you and I have known each other for a long time. You have helped me a lot in the past, and there are some things I don't intend to hide from you. The monarchs of St. Victory City have a long history of cooperation with the Pope. To put it simply, we are more like a group of gardeners, whose main task is to help Father 'manage' his garden regularly."

Todd looked puzzled: "Maintaining the garden?"

Sinclair extended his palm, palm up, fingers naturally spread: "A beautiful, elegant garden will always have some plants that grow forks or diseased branches. The mission of the monarch of Holy Guard City is to regularly prune those unsightly blemishes, according to the Father's will."

Todd was inwardly turmoil, but outwardly maintained a calm expression: "You mean...?"

“Remote countries that are close to paganism, villages and towns that have not paid tribute for a long time, and of course, the noble fiefdoms that are gradually drifting away from Father, are all useless vegetation that is an eyesore in Father’s garden.” Sinclair slowly brought his five fingers together and clenched them into a fist: “The mission of Holy Guard City is to prune these superfluous branches. And incidentally, to collect these wastes and sell them to those in need.”

Todd gripped the Silver Moon tightly in his hand, but pretended to be relaxed and said, "While you're pruning the garden, aren't you worried about being discovered and ostracized?"

“Of course not. No one cares about countries or fiefdoms that disappear overnight. Even if there are any circumstances, the Church can always find a suitable reason to resolve all unnecessary troubles.” Sinclair’s words carried a hint of ease and a hint of helplessness: “Holy Guard City is such a country. It does not engage in production or commerce, but only survives generation after generation with sword and fire.”

Todd touched the tip of his nose: "It seems that your claim of fighting for independence and freedom is nothing but a facade."

Sinclair straightened his back: "This succession struggle was nothing but a hoax from beginning to end, and the outcome was already decided—I will be the last king."

Todd asked, "Then why bother involving His Highness Mathilde as well?"

“The Church acted unwisely in the previous Silver Ring War, and many nobles in Holy Guard City are extremely dissatisfied with this.” Sinclair shook his head as he said, “The King’s serious illness has left this discontent in the country without any means of suppression. Some nobles have begun to stir up trouble. They are increasingly disobeying the Church’s orders and even plan to mobilize Holy Guard City’s powerful military forces, claiming that they will repeat the mistakes of Silver Ring City.”

"On the one hand, the church wanted to ease tensions and stabilize morale. On the other hand, it also wanted to distinguish who was loyal to the church, who was taking advantage of the situation, and who genuinely wanted independence. So, it deliberately used a succession battle to test the nobles' attitudes."

“Therefore, this struggle for the throne is more like a power reshuffle,” Todd added. “Once you ascend the throne, you can help the Church, either openly or covertly, to eliminate domestic opposition forces, and at the same time consolidate the military power held by these nobles.”

“That’s right, in your Lord’s words. Holy City has gained too many victories and honors, and some people in the country have gradually been blinded by arrogance and forgotten the foundation upon which this country was founded.”

Todd's tone carried a hint of sarcasm: "In the end, Holy Guard City is nothing more than a sword in my master's hand."

Under the cover of night, Sinclair's expression changed slightly, and anger flashed in his eyes. After a moment, he said nonchalantly, "Felice Child, your words are somewhat biased. It should be said that the Holy City and the Church are merely swords in the Father's hand."

Todd gave a dry laugh: "In this way, your brother, His Highness Mathilde, becomes a target for criticism."

Sinclair scoffed, "What a clown! A fool who dreams of ascending the throne just because someone praised him a few times! Sooner or later I'll rip his head off!"

After muttering curses under his breath for a while, Sinclair turned to Todd and said, "The nobles have all made their decisions, and the announcement of the succession to the throne will be made in the next few days. Once things are settled in Holy Guard City, tell your master not to forget the conditions he promised me."

Todd bowed slightly and said respectfully, "Your Highness, please do not worry, everything is ready."

Watching Sinclair's figure disappear into the night, Todd, filled with resentment and nowhere to vent his anger, forcefully threw the silver moon, which he had already crumpled into a ball, into the distance.

On his way back to the banquet, a dejected Todd walked through the long corridor and saw a strange old man sitting at a stone table at the end.

He was tall, but so thin that there was hardly any excess fat on his body; the outline of his bones was visible beneath his scarred skin, and his eyes were deep-set. What was remarkable was that his bright eyes, like a faint firelight in the darkness, were fixed on a chessboard on the table.

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