Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence - Chapter 766 - 426: Turmoil Rising (Part 3)
The secret chamber fell silent again, with the sound of the candle flame crackling ever so softly, and the scent of dragon musk growing even more intense, almost stifling.
Lampard’s mind was racing, and he was calculating.
To kill Duke Calvin or to save him.
The exhilaration and shock from the former would last only a moment, whereas the latter maintained the fragile stability of the Southeast Province.
The Empire was already fragmented.
He had the powerful endorsement of the Church Court but lacked sufficient Gold Coins.
The treasury was empty, and even the knights’ pay had begun to fall in arrears, with next month’s wages still uncertain.
The Calvin Clan was not just a purse; it was also the reason why the old nobility of the Southeast was still willing to stand by his side.
Lampard understood this well.
His thoughts continued to spin forward—if he killed the Duke now…
Louis in the Northern Territory would have no more scruples, completely tearing away the veil of decency.
In the Imperial Capital, the Second Prince would seize the chaos and advance east without hesitation.
And in the Holy City, if Eduardo truly ascended that white throne…
As the murderer of his father, he would have no retreat.
This was a future doomed to death.
Lampard exhaled slowly, finally realizing a cruel fact.
He actually didn’t have the qualifications to flip the table.
The so-called Holy Eastern Empire, seemingly grand, was actually an empty structure barely supported by three pillars…
The Royal Family lineage, the Church Court title, and the Calvin Clan.
Break any one of these, and the edifice would collapse overnight.
When he looked up again, the intent to kill in his eyes had completely faded, replaced by weariness.
“Duke,” Lampard’s voice lowered, “do you know why I’ve allowed that special bishop to meddle around in my palace all this time?”
Without waiting for an answer, he continued on his own: “Because I lack something.”
He stood up and walked over to Duke Calvin.
This time, there was no threat, only a deliberately lowered posture.
“If what you said about the future is true.”
“If Eduardo truly ascends that white throne.” Lampard stared directly into the Duke’s eyes, his tone unusually sincere, “You would help me, wouldn’t you?”
Duke Calvin bowed: “Of course.”
Lampard was silent for a moment, then raised his hand to point at the tightly closed door of the secret chamber.
“But for now, how do we get through this?” His voice was very low, “Bishop Salomon out there has bitten down on launching a holy war against Louis. If I don’t agree, he’ll question my piety.
If I do agree, it means throwing troops to the Northern Icefield for no reason, to fight your son, the Empire’s protector, for the Second Prince to mock us from the Imperial Capital.”
Duke Calvin didn’t answer immediately.
He merely sighed lightly, as if tired of a situation he had long foreseen.
Then he looked up, his expression becoming calm and composed once more.
“Your Majesty, at times like this, there’s no need for you to forcefully resist. Forcing it will only reveal your soft spot.” The Duke’s voice was unhurried, “We delay for time, then give him a sufficiently weighty blank check.”
Lampard’s eyebrows moved slightly.
The Duke continued: “To Bishop Salomon… you can make a promise. Once the Holy Eastern Empire is unified, three prosperous counties will be allocated as Church Court dioceses, under his lifelong control.”
This wasn’t faith, it was naked interest, enough to teach any bishop patience.
Lampard didn’t immediately refute.
He knew too well what the bishop’s true faith was.
The Duke’s words did not stop: “As for Louis, this rebellious child, we don’t need to view him as an enemy, but a necessary evil that must exist.”
As this sentence fell, the candle flame gently flickered.
“Your Majesty.” The Duke leaned forward slightly, his voice low, “We tell the bishop that Louis is a shield against the heretics.
Blocking the Second Prince, blocking the Barbarian Race, blocking all enemies that truly threaten the holy order. Letting him bleed instead of us aligns much more with God’s will.
We not only do not crusade against him, but we also give him a chance for atonement, declaring him Guardian of the Northern Territory, letting him die for us.”
The chamber fell silent again, and Lampard’s breathing gradually steadied.
He had fully understood now.
This was a closed loop.
Use the bishop’s greed to buy time, use Louis’s sharpness to wear down the Second Prince.
While they retreat to the rear and fully campaign for Eduardo.
Lampard nodded slowly, his eyes finally shining with the light belonging truly to a ruler.
“Good, let’s do as you say. I’ll issue a decree, reprimand Louis for his disrespect. But for your sake, I’ll allow him to earn redemption through meritorious service.”
As the conversation ended, the dragon musk in the chamber had burned to its end.
Duke Calvin was preparing to leave.
“Wait.” Lampard’s voice rang from behind.
The Duke stopped but didn’t turn around.
He knew very well that the truly important words often came in this last sentence.
Lampard neither scolded nor assumed any intimidating posture.
Instead, he came forward personally to adjust the Duke’s slightly crooked bow tie.
The movement was unhurried, almost resembling a father tidying his son’s appearance.
In terms of blood relations, it’s intimate; between sovereign and subject, it’s a binding.
Lampard’s knuckles brushed against the old man’s neck, feeling the layer of loose, aged skin.
He looked at the white hair at Calvin’s temples, his voice sinking, carrying a sense of pressure.
