"An audit?"

Byron was somewhat surprised. With the Newman Family dominating Royal Harbor, could they really be afraid of an audit?

Major Newman, who was opposite him, sighed deeply. "Indeed, it is an audit, but this time it's different from before. You remember how part of the Navy's fleet and I were transported to the core battlefield by Barbary Pirates using a Sea Monster's Blue Hole, don't you? The Kingdom's Navy suffered heavy losses, but for the Newman Family, it was a once-in-a-millennium opportunity. You already know I added the privateer ships that you and Bill control to the escort fleet and defense system. Besides, the quartermaster at the Navy base and the chief accountant at the Governor's Mansion are both our people. I've just been worried that the recent, frequent incidents of 'scrapping,' 'goods damage,' and 'theft' wouldn't be easy to cover up in the accounts. The shortfall for the items you needed was particularly large, so I had no choice but to resort to this. This time, I conveniently attributed the arsenal's and the Governor's Mansion's deficits to losses from that war. I even managed to make an additional profit from the reported soldiers' compensation funds. It was supposed to be a foolproof plan, but somehow, word got out. Alas!"

Upon hearing this, Byron sneered inwardly. Foolproof? Based on their departure schedule, the campaign for dominance had already begun before the Long-range Fleet set sail. I couldn't possibly have leaked the information. You must have sold those contraband items not just to me but to someone else too, right?

He also recalled the old story of robbers storming a bank, only for the bank manager to be delighted instead of angered. Art truly does imitate life. With a stroke of the pen, the entire deficit is chalked up as war losses. The Castilians don't even know what's happened, yet they're already the scapegoats. This will also conveniently show Edward IV, thousands of kilometers away, just how tragic the battle was, perhaps persuading him to allocate more funds this year. It'll prove you're doing everything possible to bring down the Castilians. And it's not just the military; his brother, Governor Newman, must have his own dirty dealings too. The King is far away, and the power of law for surveillance is weak. Corruption is the norm. All the royal colonies are really cut from the same cloth.

At this point, blaming fate or others was useless. Major Newman said coldly, "Byron, I only just received the news myself. A team of Tax Officers sent by the Minister of Finance didn't travel with the Kingdom's next Long-range Fleet. Instead, they secretly boarded a fleet composed of various civilian ships. That fleet also carried the Religious Tribunal members I personally invited. This time, they're serious. They're breaking the established rules! It must be the 'Kingmaker,' Earl Warwick (Chapter 98), trying to reclaim colonial power. He's not only the Naval Marshal but also holds the crucial post of Minister of Finance. Wielding substantial power in the Kingdom, he's effectively the de facto Prime Minister. Even His Majesty the King's authority is subtly being suppressed by him. I heard he even wants to interfere in His Majesty's marriage. That's not something a loyal subject should do."

Probably feeling cornered, Major Newman even divulged the internal strife within the York Party. And Byron found this inside information, previously unknown to outsiders, thoroughly riveting. He nearly applauded and cheered. He certainly knew who 'Kingmaker' Warwick was. Within the York Party, this man wasn't so much a subject as an ally to Edward. To dare use a title like 'Kingmaker' made his ambitions perfectly clear.

Newman's voice suddenly turned harsh. "Our mutual interests are at stake. This time, everything depends on you. Otherwise, Bill and Tilly's engagement banquet will become a funeral feast for all of us."

Naturally, Byron didn't want this great tree, the Newman Family, to fall before he had a chance to bleed it dry. His expression turned serious, and he promised solemnly, "Problems originating with the 'Kingmaker' are hard to solve, but eliminating the people causing them is quite simple. Banta'an is fraught with danger. It's highly probable that those Tax Officers will encounter various 'accidents' before reaching Royal Harbor, such as shipwrecks, accidental firearm discharges, Sea Monster attacks... These things are all unpredictable, you know. I believe they will... 'mysteriously disappear' en route. They most certainly will!"

「At the same time, at the end of the First Circulation Zone.」

Violet, dressed in the uniform of the Karma Union military and looking both heroic and dashing, was leisurely leaning against the ship's bulwark. In her hands, she toyed with a revolver pistol, crafted using Alchemy based on ideas from Byron.

CLICK, CLICK, CLICK...

The cylinder clicked open and then shut.

Although the girl was petite, she believed that "Art is an Explosion" and "the greatest art is the most intense explosion," and had a keen interest in all things explosive.

Sigh, it's just a pity that it still lacks the most technically challenging components: Fulminate of Mercury and fixed-cartridge ammunition. This is nothing more than an oversized toy. Besides, it's not suitable to research such dangerous things on board a ship. I'll have to wait until I reach Torrent Fortress to begin that research project.

Currently, her attention wasn't truly on the revolver pistol. Instead, she had shifted her perspective to several swifts, using them to monitor every move aboard the neighboring Religious Tribunal warship. She continuously recorded the intelligence gathered in her private memorandum within the Spiritual Library of the Key of Omniscience.

Apart from those Reformist Clerics—who seemed more like killing machines than people—and the Judgment Knights, several other individuals in the pursuit team were particularly eye-catching.

Seeing them, even the widely experienced Violet couldn't help but shake her head. The Church certainly has its share of oddities and monsters.

On deck, a Doppler Swordsman, a full two meters tall, was swinging a Two-Handed Heavy Sword with such force that it whistled through the air. His name was Herman Schwartz, thirty-two years old, 200 centimeters in height. He stood there like an imposing iron tower. In his hand was a Miracle item: a Two-Handed Heavy Sword. His Class was Third Order Giant Swordsman. He was a mercenary formerly in the employ of the Silver Empire's Emperor.

Whether due to some strange quirk or not, as he swung his greatsword, creating a dazzling storm of blades, he loudly declaimed poetry: "Whether in fierce gales or blinding blizzards, whether under the burning sun or in scorching day or freezing night, even if desert sand fills the air..."

Throughout the nearly month-long voyage, she hadn't heard him speak a single intelligible word.

Violet added an entry to her memorandum: The swordsman is from the Church, so it's unlikely he has learned forbidden knowledge. This is most likely a side effect of some Sacred Relic.

Beside the Giant Swordsman stood a middle-aged priest. He had a warm smile and an air of benevolence as he spread an oilcloth on the deck. Upon it were laid out firearms, bombs, and gunpowder packs of various sizes... He meticulously maintained each item. This was Brendan, thirty-five years old, a Third Order Armed Priest from a branch of the Church known as the "Cathedral of Holy Armed Forces." He also carried his signature sword-gun on his back—essentially an iron firearm with a gleaming bayonet-like blade fixed to its muzzle. This particular sect believed in 'physical salvation' and 'violent exorcism,' serving as one of the Old Continent's mainstays in demon hunting.

The third individual was a young, seemingly cute nun named Teresa, who was preparing food for the group. She led over a live cow and, knife in hand, heedless of the animal's bellows, vivisected a large chunk of beef from its rump. Yet, she immediately cast a Holy Prayer, using a healing chapter to mend the wound.

A few drops of fresh blood splattered onto her innocent little face, which now, however, was filled with profound compassion as she proclaimed: "There's no need for the cow to give its life, yet we shall have inexhaustible meat. I wish to spread this method of consuming meat throughout the entire Bantaan Archipelago, so that all people and cattle may comprehend God's mercy."

Holding her Silver Cross aloft, she prayed devoutly:

"The powers enjoyed by the Governors of the Colonies only cover the body and property of the people. Those are external and visible. They are not meant to last in this world and are ultimately destined to perish.

"But the power we, the Clergy, wield is dominion over the immortal souls of humankind.

"The worth of each one of us Clergy surpasses everything in this world—be it gold, silver, or gemstones—it is even greater than the very heavens we behold from here.

"The Creator has bestowed power upon us, sending us to guide the souls of men into Heaven.

"Therefore, whether they be mainlanders or natives, all must respect and revere the Creator's messengers, obey God according to our guidance, and ensure that every single person submits to God!"

Evidently, this group intended not merely to hunt the Mad Hunt; they planned to use the power they possessed to reshape the religious order of Banta'an. Faced with them, the lawless Colonizers from various nations probably wouldn't have many peaceful days left.

Violet couldn't help but sigh inwardly.

Suddenly, the echoing conch shell at her waist chimed: "Miss Artist, could you do me a small favor?"