The banquet went very well, and everyone got what they wanted, resulting in a happy ending for all.
Lind's name rose like a comet among the noble circles of the North.
His title of "Guardian Viscount," his miraculous achievements in turning the tide of battle, the glory of being promoted to a higher rank, and his "selflessness" and strategic vision when facing a powerful weapon like the Crystal Skeleton Cannon have made him the most sought-after new darling.
His camp was once again bustling with activity, and banquet invitations piled up like mountains.
Many began to reassess the Truck family’s potential in the North and Lind’s own future.
However, beneath the halo of glory, shadows also begin to grow.
A hidden and malicious rumor, like a poisonous vine from the ground, began to quietly spread in the private conversations among the nobles.
"Have you heard? The eldest son of the Earl Truk family, Karl Truk, has not recovered from the serious injuries sustained during the last cult uprising. I heard... he may have been left with permanent health problems."
"Yes, the Earl himself is getting old... The Earldom of Truk, that's a piece of fat meat."
You tell me, Viscount Linde is currently enjoying immense prestige, boasting numerous military achievements and favored by the Alchemist Guild, could he possibly…
"Shh! Watch your mouth! But... isn't his 'selfless' handing over of the Crystal Skeleton Cannon this time a deliberate attempt to distance himself from any ambitions towards the Truk family? After all, I've heard that his Blackrock Territory is a godforsaken place..."
"Hmph, I don't think so. The more they try to distance themselves, the more guilty they seem."
Now that he has grown powerful and is far removed from the core of the family, who knows if he has long wanted to establish his own faction, or even... replace them?
After all, would a fierce general who could defend Grinburg and capture the Crystal Cannon be content to remain merely a remote baron? He's a viscount now!
These rumors, whether overt or covert, eventually reached Lind's ears.
When Lillens told him his story with great concern, Lind simply scoffed, his eyes filled with a knowing indifference.
"To take their place? To inherit the earldom?"
Linde toyed with the gold-grade potion given to him by the Alchemy Guild; the cool touch of the bottle made his thoughts clearer.
"These people are really like frogs in a well, only focusing on the small things in front of them."
He walked to the window, his gaze seemingly piercing through the tent and reaching towards the distant south.
The Earldom of Truk? It was indeed something he once looked up to.
However, after the chaos caused by cultists, the territory was severely damaged, internally entrenched, and hampered by various forces.
More importantly, everything there is shrouded in the ancient framework of the surname "Truck," representing Karl's position and the Earl's authority.
Even if Linde goes back, he will always just be "the second son of the Earl".
As for Blackstone Territory… a barely perceptible smile appeared on Linde’s lips.
That was his territory, the foundation he had carved out from the wilderness. Though remote, barren, and difficult to establish, it was like a blank sheet of paper, entirely under his, Lind's, control to write the rules!
There are no historical burdens, no family constraints, only endless possibilities.
Only in his own Blackstone Territory could his talents be unleashed without restraint.
"A count's domain? Hmph,"
Linde's voice was so soft it sounded like he was talking to himself, yet it carried an unwavering resolve.
"In the past, it might have been an attractive target. But now? In my eyes, it is far less precious than a single brick, tile, or soldier in my Blackstone Territory."
Let those gossipers talk. My path lies not in Truk, but in Blackstone.
He carefully put the medicine bottle away.
Improving his own and his core team's strength, solidifying Ironrock Fortress's defenses, awaiting the Alchemy Association's progress, and simultaneously expanding the Knights Order as quickly as possible using the warhorses "invested" by the nobles... these are his most pressing matters at the moment.
As for the rumors? They're nothing but the buzzing of flies, unable to shake his determination to head towards the future of Blackrock Territory.
…………
The core of the Earl of Sutherland’s territory exhibited a morbid prosperity during the brief respite from the war.
The nobles seemed to want to drown the repression brought on by the war in cosmetics and alcohol, and banquets were held one after another.
Linde, the newly appointed "Guardian" Viscount, was undoubtedly the focus of all the banquets.
He drank and chatted with ease, his brows showing a perfect balance of weariness and the serenity that comes with glory, resembling a meritorious general enjoying the fruits of victory.
However, beneath this glamorous facade, a cold wariness always lingered deep in Linde's eyes.
His keen eye, like an invisible probe, silently swept across the clinking glasses and elegant attire of the crowd.
Those "stains" mixed in with the crowd are like ink stains on white silk, so clear they are glaring.
They were disguised very well; perhaps they were insignificant servants, or attendants of a minor nobleman, behaving impeccably and without any flaws.
But Lind could "see" the twisted, shadowy energy deep within their souls, an energy that was out of step with the surrounding order. The energy was exactly the same as the filth they had acquired during the Battle of Grinburg, even more refined and more... "professional".
'The venomous snake that assassinated the count has its sights set on me now?'
Linde took a sip of the pale golden fruit wine in his glass; the sweetness melted on his tongue, but his heart felt icy cold.
'Is this a shift in target because I pose a greater threat? Or... is there something about me they're more interested in?'
The answer may be both.
The annihilation of Grinburg, the capture of the Crystal Cannon, the public support of the Holy Church Inquisitor Priest, and the "divine favor" power that Lind himself displayed were all enough to make him a thorn in the side of the Shadow Abyss's minions.
More importantly, the power of light veins and shadow abyss intertwined within him flows through his body, which is a forbidden temptation for the followers of the shadow abyss.
'Since you're here, don't leave.'
Linde put down his wine glass, a barely perceptible, cold smile curving his lips.
The plan to lure and kill him took shape rapidly in his mind.
These followers are different from fanatical cultists; they are more cunning, more secretive, and more... valuable.
Capture one alive, pry him open, and perhaps we can get information about Shadow Abyss, or even uncover the truth behind Count Sutherland's assassination.
This is far better than passive defense.
The bait, of course, was himself.
The location needs to be convenient enough for the other party to take action, while also allowing them to control the overall situation.
A few days later, news about Viscount Linde's whereabouts quietly began to circulate through certain clandestine channels within the compound:
His Excellency, having been busy with social engagements for several days, is quite tired and, missing the flavors of his hometown, will disguise himself and visit the "Old Oak Barrel" tavern in the evening to relax with a drink.
The "Old Oak Barrel" is located on the edge of the camp, near the civilian area, a place where all sorts of people mingle, it is noisy and dimly lit.
The narrow, winding alley behind the tavern leads to an abandoned warehouse district, making it an ideal place for murder and robbery.
For the lurking Shadow Abyss cultists, this was undoubtedly a golden opportunity—a young nobleman, complacent with his achievements, found himself alone in a relaxed environment.
Night fell as expected.
Linde, dressed alone in understated dark casual clothes and wearing a hooded cloak, walked into "Old Oak Barrel" like an ordinary mercenary.
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