CHAPTER 1474: THE QUIET GAME III

Salvo stared at his palm for a long moment before his expression inexplicably darkened. "The woman I just met, check who she is," he clenched his palm.

"Which woman, sir?" his subordinate asked, puzzled.

Salvo’s brow furrowed with irritation. "The one who asked for a picture with me."

The subordinate recalled the female fan who had approached Salvo earlier. "Yes, sir. But... it might not be easy. The hotel staff may not be willing to cooperate with us," he admitted, looking troubled.

Salvo dismissed the concern with a cold edge in his voice. "Figure it out!"

As the elevator doors opened, he stepped outside and walked away without another glance. The subordinate had no choice; his face tightened into a mask of helplessness and unease as the doors slid shut.

Salvo made his way to Alinna’s room, only to find it already bustling with hotel staff and reporters waiting for their chance to interview her.

Alinna stood at the center of the room, dressed in a white knee-length dress that struck the perfect balance between casual charm and quiet elegance.

Her blonde hair was gathered into a low bun, lending her an air of sophistication, while her makeup was kept minimal to preserve her natural beauty.

The professional stylist had chosen deliberately, preserving Alinna’s innocent charm while layering in maturity and poise. She had been fashioned into a mirror of Princess Lorient, designed to appeal to the hearts of Harland’s citizens.

At least, that was the strategy. But those who devised it had miscalculated. They underestimated the enduring loyalty Harland’s people bore toward the Lucient family, for the late king, for the late princess.

Salvo saw the flaw clearly when he arrived at Herriond. At that moment, he realizes such theater might win favor in another kingdom, but not here. Harland’s people’s loyalty was not so easily swayed.

When Alinna’s eyes found him during the interview, she instinctively smiled sweetly at him. Salvo returned her smile with a faint nod, but he did not linger in the room; instead, he slipped onto the balcony to escape the commotion and flashing cameras that filled the room.

From the railing, Salvo cast his gaze over the city before raising his eyes to the faint shimmer in the sky: the King’s Shield.

That shimmering barrier was the true foundation of Harland’s power. For centuries, it had protected the kingdom, a legacy of the Lucient bloodline.

After the Dark Age War, it once again sealed the borders, holding back threats and ensuring peace. But it was not eternal. Every decade, the shield had to be renewed by the reigning king. Without renewal, it would collapse.

It was this secret that was somehow found by Alexander Behrenn that eventually gave shape to their design. Eliminate King Lucas, and the shield would break.

Without its protection, Harland would weaken, its people left vulnerable and desperate. In the ensuing chaos, when darkness returned and hope faltered, SA.I.N.T. would rise, presenting itself as the new beacon of order.

But even such a plan demanded resources beyond the organization’s grasp. That was why they had turned to Luxemborough. The alliance was one of necessity: SA.I.N.T. would provide vision and influence, Luxemborough the technology and machinery of power. Together, they would divide the world.

It was a compromise Salvo accepted, for now at least. He knew well that such alliances never lasted; in the end, only one power would remain standing.

Still, Luxembourg was far easier to handle than Harland, and Theodore Navaro proved more pliable than either King Marcus or King Lucas. For a time, the plan unfolded smoothly.

But then the cracks began to show, first with the Hamilton family, then the incident with Lydia Boyd, followed by the chaos at the Aeon facility, and finally, the infiltration of Elysium...then the rampage of Zalchana.

Salvo’s presence in Harland was not solely to guard Alinna. He had another purpose: to uncover what had become of the scion they had planted within King Lucas’s body. By their scientists’ calculations, the scion should have awakened by now, and the King should already be dead.

Yet Harland showed no signs of turmoil. On the contrary, the kingdom seemed more stable than ever, as though nothing had happened.

Was it the Archknight orchestrating this? Perhaps they had concealed the King’s condition and assumed control in his stead. Yet if that were true, why expose themselves with such a grand event, summoning influential figures from across nations as if to flaunt strength?

A diversion, perhaps, an illusion staged to keep Harland’s people calm. But if so, the choice was reckless. And Fredhardt Knoxville was not a man who moved without calculation.

There was little reliable information on the Archknights beyond the carefully curated biographies displayed on their social media, and the occasional comment from former classmates, though they all admitted that they had never been close to them.

But that’s to be expected. It’s not a secret that the Archknights’ life revolved mostly around the Lucient family and the affairs of the kingdom.

However, Fredhardt Knoxville was a different matter. His political career left a far clearer trail. Many regarded him as the architect of Harland’s political direction and narrative, the strategist behind the throne. He was also believed to oversee the kingdom’s economic course.

Based on that, Salvo concluded that Fredhardt Knoxville was not the kind of man to gamble for vanity, nor one to act without careful calculation. Every move he made served a purpose. Which meant this gathering was no display of bravado.

It was something else, something deliberate. And that, more than anything, demanded Salvo’s attention.

_________________________________

Lory had some time to spare, so she went to Harland’s National Art Gallery. Using her royal clearance, she entered without difficulty. After parking in the basement, she raised the hood of her jacket to hide her face and took the elevator up to the first floor.

The doors opened to a low hum of activity. The air smelled faintly of polished wood and fresh paint, mixed with the sharper scent of cleaning solution.

Staff hurried back and forth carrying crates, arranging antique vases and classic eastern ornaments, while others carefully unwrapped calligraphy scrolls, several of which Lory recognized immediately as Zhao Li Xin’s originals.

Spotlights flicked on and off as technicians tested the angles, bathing canvases in light, then plunging them back into shadow. The entire space buzzed with anticipation, like an orchestra tuning before a performance.

Amidst the commotion, Hugo’s familiar voice rang out, sharp with impatience as he corrected a group shifting a painting the wrong way. Beside him stood someone she hadn’t seen in months, Allen Alderton, his assistant and secretary. True to form, Allen was already scribbling notes with his usual precision, his expression serious and composed.

"Hi, Mr. Hugo, how’s the preparation coming along?" Lory asked as she approached.

Hugo startled, then looked at her warily, clearly not recognizing her.

Lory slapped her forehead, realized her mistakes, and said, "Oh, sorry."

Lory forgot she was still wearing a disguise. Lory blinks a few times, and soon after, her eyes shift back to their natural violet. Recognition flickered instantly across his face.

"Oh, Pri—"

"Shh." Lory pressed a finger to her lips.

"Oh. Right." Hugo quickly looked around, lowering his voice as if nothing had happened.

Lory chuckled softly at his discretion before turning to Allen. "It’s been a while, Mr. Alderton."

Allen had already been informed of Raven Jane’s true identity by Hugo, with Jay’s approval. Of course, it only happened after Jay ran a thorough check on Allen’s background.

Still, knowing and seeing were two different things. What unsettled him more was the memory of his past when he encountered Lory. At that time, he had failed to show her the proper courtesy she deserved. Minor mistakes, perhaps, but this was Princess Lorient they were talking about.

"I... yes," his heart beating so fast, his reply came out clipped and awkward.

Lory’s laugh was not bothered by Allen’s reaction, but that only make Allen feel more embarrassed. Allen then lowered his head, and a trace of color rose to his face despite trying to remain composed.

Hugo gave him a pointed look but said nothing, then turned back to Lory. "Everything is fine, Miss Jane," he said with a subtle wink, deliberately using her pseudonym.

Hugo led Lory toward one of the larger halls, showing her several highlights from Zhao Li Xin’s collection. As she walked past the displays, her eyes widened. Zhao Li Xin’s talent was far beyond what she had expected.

One piece in particular is a six-meter painting. It was so beautiful, she had to stop herself to admire the artworks. She couldn’t imagine when he had found the time to create something so grand, outside his busy day cultivating and his constant movement between realms.

"How many paintings did Zhao Li Xin make for the exhibition?" Lory finally asked.

"About thirty new works, and twenty older ones," Hugo replied.

"Eh? Only twenty from the past?" Lory blinked in surprise. "That doesn’t sound like enough to hold an exhibition."

"Of course not," Hugo waved his hand. "Mr. Zhao has made plenty more, but they’ve already been sold. You’ve never checked your bank account?"

Lory paused. "I only check it once..." With everything that had happened, most of her expenses had been covered by the Hamilton family.

She’d also earned a considerable sum after healing Ethan Hamilton, and she still had the reward from Jack’s Guild. She was also always in a hurry, so she never bothered to check the balance; she assumed what she had was more than enough.

Later on, after joining Garrof and Lloyd, most of the costs of their missions were paid by them, and thanks to the Hamilton family, they never ran out of money. Not long after that, she met Jay and Clift; therefore, she never looked at her account for a long time.

"You didn’t transfer it to Zhao Li Xin’s bank?" she asked, puzzled.

"Mr. Zhao told me to transfer everything to your account," Hugo explained. "I did send part of it to his, couldn’t leave Mr. Zhao’s account empty, but most of the funds are in yours."

Lory’s curiosity spiked. She pulled out her phone and opened her banking app. The moment the numbers appeared on the screen, her eyes widened.

"Holy sh**!"