CHAPTER 30: CHAPTER30-WHITE-ROBED BISHOP RAMOS

To say that Troy felt no temptation would have been a lie.

Of course he was tempted.

Yet he remained painfully aware of his own limitations. He knew his own weight; he knew how little true power he commanded compared to the Grand Marshal or the Emperor himself. And so, suppressing the ambitious flames flickering in his heart, Troy forced himself to remain calm, hiding every trace of desire from his face.

"Aris," he said carefully, "don’t joke with me. I have no thought of replacing the Emperor. After all, I don’t yet have the strength for that."

Across from him, Aris only gave a faint smile. His tone was leisurely, but his words carried weight.

"The Imperial Knights are indeed formidable," Aris said. "But their power ends at the borders of the Crossbridge Empire. When faced against other forces in this vast world, they are not nearly so invincible."

"And as for us—our Leap Mercenary Corps—we are prepared to help you."

The moment those words fell, Troy’s heart gave a violent lurch.

He could hear it, even feel it—his heartbeat, thudding against his ribs like a war drum.

Help from the Leap Mercenary Corps?

That was no small promise.

It was almost laughable—who wouldn’t desire to become the master of the Crossbridge Empire? Who wouldn’t dream of donning the crown and ruling all beneath the heavens?

Troy’s eyes gleamed as he leaned forward slightly.

"If you, Aris, can truly speak on behalf of the Leap Mercenary Corps and give me your support, then I will not forget such kindness. I will see you richly rewarded."

But then a sobering thought came to him, and he added, "Still... perhaps we should also consider the stance of the Ordon Theocracy."

At this, Aris frowned, just briefly. But he did not contradict the point.

For even he understood that the Ordon Theocracy’s attitude was of vital importance.

The Leap Mercenary Corps, powerful as they were, could not afford to openly offend that colossal power.

Everyone with eyes could see that the Theocracy would one day abandon the decaying Crossbridge Empire.

But until that day came, until the Ordon Theocracy made its abandonment explicit, anyone seeking to meddle with the empire had to carefully weigh and respect the Theocracy’s stance.

"It seems," Troy said, forcing a smile, "that the coming days will make Eryndor City very lively indeed. Once again, Aris, allow me to thank the Leap Mercenary Corps for extending its hand to me."

Aris inclined his head in acknowledgment. He was silent for a few moments, then replied, "I will contact the Corps about this matter soon. I am confident our reinforcements will not take long to arrive."

He hesitated, then added, "In addition, I will seek an opportunity to probe the attitude of Cardinal Austin."

It was obvious now—both Troy and Aris were moved by ambition, their hearts set on schemes of betrayal.

Yet neither of them realized that, as they whispered together, a faint breeze stirred through the chamber, carrying their words into ears unknown.

Meanwhile, Jacoff had reached his own conclusion.

He could not allow the Emperor to continue his reckless course. Or rather, the true reason was simpler: the Emperor’s choices threatened Jacoff’s personal interests.

And so the Grand Marshal resolved to visit Cardinal Austin and lay the matter before him.

At such times, no one could predict what the next step might bring.

When Jacoff arrived at the great cathedral, he was startled to see Troy already there, waiting at the entrance.

The two men exchanged looks—knowing, wordless. Neither questioned why the other had come.

For both understood: when matters touched upon the Ordon Theocracy, secrecy was futile.

The cathedral of the Theocracy was not a place one could describe merely as "grand" or "splendid."

Its magnificence went far beyond.

The gilded arches, the towering stained-glass windows, the solemn statues and holy murals—every detail spoke of power, wealth, and authority.

It was said, not without truth, that even the Valoria Palace could not match the cathedral’s opulence.

As the two men stepped forward, a devoted priest in ceremonial robes approached them.

"Lord Jacoff, Lord Troy," the priest said respectfully. "What business brings you to the cathedral today?"

"We come seeking an audience with His Eminence, Cardinal Austin," Jacoff replied curtly. "There is a matter that must be explained to him in person."

Before the priest could respond, a figure approached from within the sanctuary.

He was a middle-aged man clad in white robes, his expression calm, almost kindly. His steps were unhurried, his presence dignified without being oppressive.

He raised his hand slightly, signaling the priest to withdraw.

Then his gaze turned upon Jacoff and Troy.

"Cardinal Austin is indisposed at the moment," he said in a gentle voice. "Whatever business you bring, tell it to me. I am Bishop Ramos, and I will see that the Cardinal is informed."

Jacoff and Troy exchanged glances. After a brief pause, they both nodded.

There was little choice; to force an audience with the Cardinal would be unwise.

"Very well," Jacoff began, his tone heavy. "Bishop Ramos, the matter is this: our Emperor has gone mad!"

"He has mobilized the Imperial Knights. They march now toward the capital."

Troy added swiftly, "We fear this reckless act will provoke a chain of dangerous consequences. But His Majesty will not listen to us. Therefore we came to beg that Cardinal Austin intervene, to counsel him."

Jacoff’s face darkened as he pressed on.

"The empire’s armies are already too few. If the Imperial Knights are pulled away, a vacuum of power will be created. Should any sudden event occur, the blow to the empire would be disastrous."

Ramos frowned slightly as he listened.

"You need not panic so," he said at length. "If Aurek has chosen this course, then he must be prepared to bear the consequences. His Eminence Austin is presently deep in meditation. He must not be disturbed for trivialities."

"For now, the affairs of this cathedral are entrusted to me."

Jacoff and Troy both stiffened.

The Cardinal was unreachable.

But Ramos... Ramos could be influenced.

Troy stepped forward quickly, pulling something from his cloak.

It was a mana stone, gleaming with rare purity.

"Bishop Ramos," Troy said smoothly, "this is a high-grade mana stone. I need not speak of its value—you surely understand."

Jacoff followed suit, producing a small artifact from his satchel.

"Bishop Ramos," he said, "this is a rare device, capable of shielding its bearer from the strike of an Expert Rank warrior. I believe it will be of more use in your hands than mine."

Their intent could not have been clearer.

Ramos’s eyes flickered. For a long moment he was silent, weighing.

At last, he extended his hands and accepted both gifts.

"Indeed," he murmured, "these are items I happen to need."

He slipped them into his sleeves, then looked at the two men with a faint smile.

"Very well. I shall personally convey your concerns to Aurek."

Then his expression shifted, as though he remembered something.

"Oh, and one more thing. News has reached us: there are... disturbances within the Ordon Theocracy itself. Matters that may ripple outward and affect the Crossbridge Empire. I suggest you both make preparations."

The words were casual, but Jacoff and Troy’s hearts both leapt.

They did not know what precisely was happening within the Theocracy, but the implication was obvious.

The stance of the Ordon Theocracy was changing.

And that change would inevitably shake the empire.

Back in Valoria Palace, Aurek was busy with matters of his own.

Before his eyes, translucent prompts continued to appear one after another.

Each listed another "black force" destroyed, another tally of Emperor Points earned.

Aurek found himself quite satisfied with the harvest.

True, it was far less than the colossal reward he had reaped after exterminating the Nock family—but it was still progress.

He spent a portion of his points to raise his cultivation to Apprentice Rank, level two.

The remainder, though insufficient for another breakthrough, he chose to save for later.

During these three days, Aurek’s forces had swelled yet further.

Sixty more Elemental Assassins had been summoned beneath his command.

Just then, the air shimmered, and a Gold Assassin stepped out of shadow before him.

"My Lord," the assassin said, kneeling. "News has just arrived: Troy has conspired with Aris, the vice commander of the Leap Mercenary Corps. It seems they intend rebellion."

"The Mercenary Corps may dispatch men to aid him. But their true plan is this: they mean to push Jacoff into the front, to let him bear the brunt of Your Majesty’s wrath, while they sit back and watch, waiting to reap advantage."

"And more—both Jacoff and Troy have gone to the cathedral. They hope to persuade the church to intervene, to obstruct Your Majesty’s designs."

The assassin’s words were like daggers, slicing away the veil of intrigue.

The stage of Eryndor was set, the actors moving into place.

The coming storm could not be held back.