The Stuart family, which ruled the Smolder Duchy in the west of the Kingdom of Arank, was as renowned as the Wycliffe family in the south and the Annas family in the north.
The Stuart family had produced two queens, five Hands of the King, and countless knights whose names were etched into the kingdom's history. The weight of this surname on the political landscape of the Kingdom of Arank was no less than that of a mountain.
Even in this county, far from the western territory, the nobles present were no strangers to the name.
Matilda had concealed her surname and taken employment with Baron Barton as an ordinary mage, which suggested she was likely a second daughter of a noble with no right of inheritance, who had chosen to leave her family to make her own way in the world.
However, given her status as a mage, the Stuart family would not necessarily turn a blind eye to her safety. Even if the Duke himself did not care much for this runaway daughter, the family's reputation could not tolerate being slighted by outsiders.
Once word reached the Duke's ears, even if he had no intention of pursuing the matter, there would be others looking to curry favor with the Stuart family who would exploit the situation.
No matter how one looked at it, a member of the Stuart family almost dying on their territory was not something that could be brushed off with a mere letter of apology.
After a brief, dead silence, a vassal was the first to break the quiet.
“My Lord, in my opinion, the safest course of action right now is to appease Lady Matilda while making it clear to her that the attack had nothing to do with us.”
“As long as we clear ourselves of responsibility, this matter cannot be blamed on us.”
As soon as he finished speaking, someone immediately challenged him. “Do you think clearing ourselves of responsibility is that simple? What if she ignores the facts and insists on laying the blame on us anyway?”
Although the Smolder Duchy was quite far from this county and Count Nigel was not a vassal of the Stuart family, the Duke legally had no right to directly interfere in the internal affairs of this territory.
But legalities were never the sole rule of conduct in aristocratic politics.
If someone leaked this to the West, Duke Stuart could easily send representatives to demand an explanation.
In any case, offending a powerful family was never a good thing.
“What can she blame us for? It wasn't our people who attacked her.”
“Since things have come to this, we might as well capture the mercenary who attacked her first and hand him over to her to deal with. That should be enough to clear our names.”
But soon, a different voice chimed in:
“In my opinion, discussing this endlessly here is pointless. We should first confirm her thoughts. If she wants the mercenary's life, we will send men to capture him. If she doesn't wish to pursue it, we will act as if nothing happened.”
“Have you all considered that she is just a second daughter of a noble with no right of inheritance? We could completely dispose of her secretly. As long as word doesn't get out, no one will ever know she was in this camp.”
The atmosphere in the tent instantly tensed, and several people's expressions changed simultaneously.
Before the other vassals could speak up to refute the idea, Count Nigel, who had remained silent in the seat of honor, raised his hand.
“Enough. I do not want to hear such words a second time.”
The speaker immediately shut his mouth and lowered his head. Quiet returned to the tent as everyone's eyes focused on the Count.
“No matter what, capture that mercenary first. Even if we fail to catch him, or if Matilda decides not to pursue the matter, we must show our stance. This is the most basic gesture of respect we owe her.”
“At the same time, I will write a letter to Lord Wycliffe. If word of this eventually reaches Duke Stuart's ears, we will have his Lordship speak on our behalf.”
“With Duke Wycliffe mediating, even if the West wants to pursue the matter, they will have to think twice.”
The Wycliffe family ruled Duke Morgan's domain in the southern part of the kingdom and had maintained a delicate balance with the Stuart family for generations.
Count Nigel was a direct vassal of Duke Wycliffe, and having a liege lord intercede on behalf of his vassal was perfectly natural and proper within the rules of kingdom politics.
After saying this, Count Nigel looked toward Baron Barton:
“Since both Lady Matilda and the attacker are nominally mercenaries you recruited, the task of capturing him falls to you. I will give you ten days or so. If you truly cannot find him, we will address it then.”
“But before that, you must give me an explanation.”
Baron Barton's expression was grim, but he still nodded.
“Now that this matter is settled, we should refocus our energy on those goblins.”
Count Nigel pushed aside the parchment covered in writing, pulled a map from his desk, and spread it out on the table.
...
Over the next few days, nothing happened.
Roger pieced together some information from the gossip around the camp. Baron Barton had dispatched several squads to search all over the camp's surroundings, and they had reportedly even combed through the woods across the river.
This massive effort was most likely to capture Sargon.
But since no one came to question him, he simply went about his business. The sun rose as usual, and his daily life did not change noticeably because of the incident.
During this time, he continued to practice his skills or find partners to spar with during the day. At night, he lay in bed running Croft's Meditation Method, slowly accumulating mana in his meditation to increase his magic experience points.
At the same time, to deal with the complex terrain of the Cliffside Mountains, he decided to use his current points to acquire another scouting skill.
He scrolled through the system shop for a while and found an option with decent cost-effectiveness.
【Name: Scout's Eye
Description: Upon casting, grants visual information centered around the caster, ignoring obstacles and presenting a bird's-eye view directly in the caster's consciousness. The effective radius depends on the Magic level, currently 15 meters.
The clarity of visual details depends on the skill level. This is an active skill that continuously consumes mana and can be turned on or off at any time.
Cannot detect invisible units.
Level Cap: Lv5
Learning Requirement: Magic Lv1
Redemption Cost: 1,500 points】
After redeeming this skill, his remaining balance was 200 points.
Roger pulled up his status panel and took a look. He saw a long, dense list of magic skills, while his warrior and general categories were much shorter, showing a severe imbalance.
But thinking about it, there was no reason to mind. If a problem could be solved from a distance, there was no need to bring it into melee range. That had always been his style of combat.
As the days went by, the noble coalition did not attack the Cliffside Mountains, nor did the goblins launch any raids on the camp, as if both sides had reached a tacit understanding.
Rumors and gossip about Matilda and Sargon also began to circulate around the camp.
Some said Sargon had failed to win the female mage's heart, and his unrequited love had turned to homicidal hatred.
Others claimed the two had long held a private grudge and had simply run into each other by the river, leading to the clash.
There were even more ridiculous rumors, suggesting they were actually spies sent by a rival family and had tried to silence each other after their cover was blown.
In response, Roger and Irene reached a silent agreement to pretend they knew absolutely nothing.
According to the conversation they had overheard in the woods, Sargon's identity as a Purple Sun Sect cultist was set in stone, while the mysterious man who had vanished using a teleportation scroll remained unaccounted for.
No one could say for sure whether there were other cultists lurking within the coalition. In such an uncertain situation, exposing that they knew too much would only invite unnecessary risk.
Thus, when Count Nigel's and Baron Barton's men questioned the two separately, they stuck to the same story.
Faced with questions, both maintained a straight face, insisting they were only doing routine sparring by the river that day and had witnessed nothing unusual.
“Knight Stine mentioned to our superior that you and Lady Irene also left the camp around the same time Lady Matilda was attacked.”
In response, Roger simply spread his hands and replied with feigned helplessness:
“We did leave the camp for the river, but we were sparring there from beginning to end. We never saw either of them. By the time we finished and headed back, the incident had already happened.”
He and Irene had only made their move after Matilda was carried away by the patrol. From a chronological standpoint, it was impossible for Matilda to have seen them during her attack.
As for Sargon's bloodstains and burial pit, he was confident he had cleaned them up thoroughly enough. Unless Sherlock Holmes had also transmigrated to this world, or there was some high-tier magic capable of directly tracing the culprit, finding evidence would be nearly impossible.
The questioning lasted for about half an hour. The interlocutor repeatedly approached the queries from different angles, but Roger's answers remained seamless throughout.
Eventually, the man closed his notebook, said, “If there are any new developments, please report them immediately,” and stood up to leave.
Another week passed, and the search operations in the camp gradually ground to a halt.
Roger heard from Knight Stine that the noble lords presumed Sargon had already fled far away. Continuing the search would only waste time and manpower, especially with a tough battle ahead.
Even though the heat had died down, Roger had no intention of letting his guard down.
Over the past few days, he had stayed strictly within the camp's boundaries, avoiding any places where he might be questioned alone and refusing to discuss Matilda or Sargon with anyone.
That night, a messenger walked briskly to his tent, lifted the flap, and delivered a brief verbal order:
At dawn tomorrow, the entire army will launch a new general offensive against the goblin nest. All extraordinary warriors must march with the troops.
The next morning, before the sky had fully brightened, the sound of horns tore through the silence of the camp.
Roger quickly put on his gear. When he reached the camp gates, Irene, Stine, and the others were already waiting.
The rising sun finally fully climbed over the horizon, casting its golden light upon the flags fluttering above the camp.
Once Roger took his place in the formation, Stine turned around, waved toward the outside of the camp gates, and ordered the march.
The troops marched through the camp and reached the open ground outside. Roger climbed a raised mound near the assembly point and looked ahead.
Countless soldiers and knights spread across the wasteland, the banners of various noble families fluttering loudly in the morning breeze.
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