Chapter 68: The Third Hypnosis |
After leaving the Tyrius Estate, Bishop Mozel wiped the cold sweat from his forehead as he was helped toward the carriage by his subordinates.
Madmen, all of them!
Even now, he remained immersed in the atmosphere from earlier, unable to shake it off.
First, he barely escaped with his life from that lunatic woman. Then, he witnessed a member of the Mosgra Family—well-aligned with the Divine Order Church—face a mortal threat and be killed on the spot by that same madwoman.
To top it off, even Duke Tyrius, who intervened personally, was powerless to make a dent against her!
That Third Princess of rumor… could she truly be this powerful?!
Could it be that…
For a moment, Bishop Mozel’s expression shifted unpredictably between light and dark.
Once back in the carriage, his tension eased slightly. Feeling the wheels begin to roll, a storm of emotions churned within him.
“He has already rejected our overtures. He wants to take the entire cake for himself, but that’s impossible.” Mozel gritted his teeth. “From here on, there is only conflict between us, a battle that won’t end until one of us is destroyed.”
“D**n that Tyrius!”
Mozel slammed his fist against the carriage wall. His subordinates fell silent, not daring to utter a word.
It took a long time before Mozel’s emotions finally calmed.
“Have the Church’s people stay alert,” he ordered, his gaze fixated on the bustling streets outside the window, illuminated by the early evening lights. “They’ll be watching us closely in the days ahead, waiting for a chance to take a bite out of us.”
“Don’t let them find that chance.”
“Yes, Bishop!”
With a maid leading the way, Lynn followed in the direction Duke Tyrius had gone.
Before long, a familiar rose-like fragrance wafted through the air, and he noticed another presence appear beside him.
“Why did you act so impulsively just now?” she asked, keeping her gaze fixed ahead, her voice calm. “I’ve already told you that I’ll avenge your grievances for you.”
Lynn shook his head. “It wasn’t impulsive. On the contrary, I was entirely rational at that moment.”
Did they seriously think he’d lose his cool over such an absurdly amateur provocation?
Not a chance.
Hearing this, Yveste frowned slightly. “What was your reason, then?”
“Of course, it was for you,” Lynn replied, glancing at her. To his slight annoyance, he realized that with her high heels, she was just a bit taller than him. It left him feeling slightly defeated.
“Think about it: what does it mean for the Mosgra Family to send someone here? I’m sure Your Highness knows the implications all too well.”
“If they managed to reach Duke Tyrius first, you wouldn’t stand a chance. Surely, you can imagine the kinds of exorbitant terms they’d offer to win him over.”
“So the only way out was to kill Dallion on the spot, gaining the Duke’s favor and respect before the Second Prince could send anyone else.”
“With the Duke and Your Highness forming an alliance, even the Mosgra Family wouldn’t waste too much effort pursuing vengeance over a mere heir.”
As for himself, the killer, Lynn trusted that Yveste wouldn’t abandon him. Pressured by circumstances, she could easily stage a dramatic ruse—faking his death to appease public sentiment.
Afterward, Lynn could retreat into the shadows entirely, an outcome that aligned perfectly with his plans to eventually make an escape. It was a win-win scenario.
Of course, Yveste had no idea what he was thinking.
Seeing her remain silent, Lynn assumed she was still hesitant. He offered a reassuring smile.
“Don’t worry, Your Highness. Before taking action, I carefully considered all the potential consequences.”
“That’s not what I meant…” Yveste hesitated, as if she had more to say, but with her profile obscured by her mask, it was impossible to discern her expression.
“…Forget it. We’ll talk later.”
What a strange woman.
Although Lynn felt puzzled, he chose not to press her further.
“Here we are.”
The servant leading them stopped in front of Duke Tyrius’s study. After announcing their arrival, the servant left.
Yveste pushed open the door and entered.
Inside, the once impeccably dressed Duke Tyrius had, at some point, shed his formal jacket. With a pipe clamped between his teeth, he exhaled clouds of smoke.
As the two entered the study, a flicker of complex emotions flashed through the Duke’s eyes, though he maintained a stoic exterior.
An oppressive silence filled the room.
After a pause, Duke Tyrius spoke coolly, “Do you think this stunt will drag me onto your sinking ship?”
“Of course not,” Lynn replied with a shake of his head. “In fact, if you’re determined to sever ties with us, it would be quite simple. After all, there were plenty of witnesses tonight who saw everything that happened.”
Duke Tyrius frowned. “Then why take such a reckless risk?”
“I wanted to give Her Highness a chance.”
“A chance?” The Duke chewed on the words, then let out a chuckle. “Yet, from where I’m standing, it seems Her Highness doesn’t even want that chance.”
Glancing at Yveste, whose icy gaze remained fixed on him, Duke Tyrius sighed and shook his head.
“If we were to treat tonight’s events as a test,” he continued, “what kind of evaluation do you think you would receive, Your Highness?”
“Full marks,” Yveste replied without hesitation.
“Zero!” Duke Tyrius suddenly slammed the table, his voice booming. “I’ve never seen a succession candidate make such outrageous moves!
“To me, it’s obvious that you have neither the desire nor the capacity to become emperor!”
“Were you thinking earlier about killing everyone at that banquet who looked down on you? Hmm?”
“Let me tell you this—if you dared to kill someone at a banquet tonight, tomorrow you’d plunge the Empire’s citizens into an abyss of despair!”
“Such reckless behavior! Not only would I refuse to support you, but I doubt any intelligent person in this world would stand by your side!”
Duke Tyrius’s tirade carried the tone of someone enraged by another’s incompetence. After a long string of criticisms, he paused, as if suddenly remembering something. His gaze shifted to Lynn, who had been quietly staying out of it, and a cold smile spread across his face.
“Of course, except for you.”
“Uh… thanks for the compliment?” Lynn replied dryly, unsure how else to respond.
In his mind, the Duke’s angry outburst was actually a positive sign. If Tyrius had taken a purely businesslike approach, he would have been far more difficult to deal with.
Still… Lynn couldn’t help but notice that Tyrius and Yveste’s relationship seemed far less distant than he had imagined.
Catching Lynn’s curious glance, Duke Tyrius took a deep drag from his pipe before speaking in a low voice. “Her Highness’s mother and I… were childhood friends.”
Well, damn.
The juicy detail was so unexpected and intriguing that Lynn struggled to keep his expression in check, eventually forcing himself to change the subject awkwardly.
“By the way, Duke Tyrius, I noticed earlier that you seemed to use a gravitational ability from the Divine Order Church?”
“That’s right,” the Duke confirmed without hesitation. “I’m a non-believer, but about a decade ago, I was part of the first batch to undergo Divine Factor implantation surgery. Fortunately, I experienced only minimal rejection symptoms.”
He clenched his fist as he spoke.
A non-believer?
The term brought a long-forgotten piece of lore from the original work to Lynn’s mind, and things suddenly clicked into place.
Strictly speaking, Her Highness Yveste was also a non-believer, refusing to worship any deity. However, her power originated from a far more enigmatic and sinister source, connected to some ancient and terrifying entity from the Chaos Era.
The details of her abilities were only lightly touched upon in the original story, as she wasn’t the protagonist. Lynn realized he would have to uncover the truth himself.
As these thoughts swirled in his mind, Duke Tyrius interrupted the silence.
“Alright, let’s get to the point.” His tone shifted to one of authority. “I know exactly why the two of you staged tonight’s performance.”
“But let me make one thing clear: my connection with your mother has no bearing on this matter,” he added bluntly. “Frankly, I don’t have much faith in your chances. For the sake of the Tyrius Family, I will not board a ship that’s destined to sink.”
“In comparison, the Second Prince is far more likely to ascend to the throne.”
At this, Yveste’s expression, which had momentarily softened, turned cold once again. Bound by the constraints of their relationship, however, she refrained from retaliating.
“Unless…” Duke Tyrius shifted his tone, “you can offer me something that makes it worth my while.” He paused, then added with a cold smile, “We’re all adults here. We understand that everything boils down to interests.”
“Let’s hear it—compared to the Mosgra Family and the Second Prince, what can you offer me?”
His gaze landed squarely on Lynn.
Even Yveste lifted her eyes, staring at him with an odd expression.
Why is everyone looking at me… Lynn cursed inwardly but maintained his composure. He answered steadily, “We can help you make money without bowing down.”
The room fell into silence.
“Make money while standing?” Duke Tyrius repeated, his brows furrowing in skepticism.
“So, you’re implying that I’m currently kneeling and begging for scraps?” The Duke chuckled incredulously. “Kid, you’d better explain yourself, or you’ll regret it.”
Lynn smiled faintly. “Whether or not you’re kneeling, only you know in your heart.”
“Taxes are the backbone of a nation’s operations, its primary financial artery. But the rot in Orne City is severing that artery, cutting into the Empire’s lifeblood,” Lynn continued. “It might sound exaggerated, but the reality is no different in essence.”
Duke Tyrius instinctively picked up his pipe, puffing as he listened.
“You came here to collect taxes,” Lynn said, pressing on, “and that should have been a straightforward task. But what’s happened instead? You’ve been obstructed at every turn by the local nobles and the Church.”
“A task as legitimate as taxation has now been twisted into something that makes it look like you’re the unreasonable one. You even had to host a charity gala just to gauge their intentions.”
“Do you think the local aristocrats and churches could have gotten this bold without tacit approval from the higher-ups among the great houses and the Church leadership?”
“Yet here you are, unable to do anything about it. When it’s time to divide the cake, you’re forced to settle for crumbs they toss your way. Tell me—doesn’t that sound like kneeling and begging for scraps?”
Duke Tyrius’s expression turned grim as he reflexively prepared to refute. “How could I possibly—”
“If you could, you would’ve already deployed the army to crush them,” Lynn interrupted, his voice calm yet unyielding. “It’s not that you’re weak—it’s that the forces behind them are too united and too strong.”
These words plunged the Duke into deep silence.
Even he couldn’t deny that the kid had a point. Ever since arriving in Orne City, he’d faced resistance at every step.
It wasn’t just here either. In the nearby border cities, his men encountered equally severe opposition.
Am I really kneeling to beg?
No. Impossible.
Duke Tyrius instinctively rejected the thought. As the Emperor’s representative for tax collection, he was effectively Saint Roland VI’s voice in the matter.
If he compromised here, it would send a signal that royal authority was weaker than the nobility—a precedent he could never accept.
This, too, was why he hadn’t lost his temper outright over tonight’s events. Instead, he brought Lynn and Yveste to his study for further discussion.
Accepting the Mosgra Family’s terms and colluding with the Divine Order Church would only leave him seething with anger, unable to justify his actions to the Emperor.
His expression flickered, shifting unpredictably as he wrestled with his thoughts.
“I can make a military pledge,” Lynn declared, seizing the moment to escalate his pitch. “Ten days. Within ten days, not only will you stand tall, but you’ll also be earning a fortune.”
“If I fail, you can deal with me under military law!”
Yveste’s gaze flickered with a trace of doubt as she watched Lynn’s enthusiastic demeanor.
She didn’t know that this was, in fact, a directive from the future Witch of the End, who had tasked Lynn with weakening the influence of the Divine Order Church.
Still, seeing him work so tirelessly for her sake… it wasn’t entirely unpleasant, she thought to herself.
“You said it yourself,” Duke Tyrius finally broke his silence with a cold snort.
“Of course, I always keep my word,” Lynn replied with a confident nod.
Seeing the Duke’s subtle shift in expression, Lynn’s tense heart finally relaxed.
The first step of his plan was complete.
Now for step two.
As his mind turned to the next stage of his well-laid-out plan, Lynn briefly fell into thought.
“Well, now that we’ve reached an initial agreement, you may leave,” Duke Tyrius said abruptly, waving his hand in a gesture of dismissal. “I have some things to discuss with Her Highness.”
What the hell?! Tossing me out already, just like that? Lynn was momentarily stunned.
Still, when Yveste gave him a look signaling her consent, he didn’t argue. With a hint of frustration, he shot a glare at Duke Tyrius before exiting the study.
The room fell into silence once more.
As soon as Lynn left, Duke Tyrius’s casual demeanor vanished, replaced by an uncharacteristically grave expression.
The private matters were done. Now, it was time for official business.
“Regarding the sealed artifact His Majesty mentioned earlier, my subordinates have found what appears to be its hiding place—linked to the Creationist Sect.”
“However… its current state seems unusual.”
Yveste’s pupils contracted slightly at the revelation.
After all this time, she was finally hearing news of the sealed artifact again—the true reason for her visit to Orne City.
Sitting in the carriage, Lynn stared idly at the passing scenery outside.
Though he was curious about what Duke Tyrius wanted to discuss with Yveste, it was clear they didn’t want him to know.
A few minutes later, the carriage door opened, and the familiar rose-like scent wafted through the air.
After a brief exchange of words, Yveste returned, her expression heavy with unspoken thoughts.
Noticing her mood, Lynn wisely kept quiet, deciding against saying anything that might provoke her.
But sometimes, the quieter you try to stay, the more trouble finds you.
“Look up.”
Yveste’s cold, melodious voice broke the silence.
Lynn instinctively obeyed.
What he saw next was her palm glowing with a green light, aiming the Eye of the Mind Sigil directly at him.
Oh, great.
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