Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem - Chapter 1050: Was It Black Fang You Killed?

Chapter 1050: Was It Black Fang You Killed?

“The wife of a criminal…” the king’s voice was low, ominous even. His gaze pinned Alastair in place. “Tell me, Duke of Greenvale, is this the most heinous criminal you could catch?”

Alastair’s brain worked overtime. “No, Your Majesty. There are many more batches of them waiting outside these doors. I didn’t dare bring them all in at once, fearing their kind would ruin the atmosphere… Furthermore I… I caught an incredible number of high-level criminal combatants. But they had a curse placed on them. Before I could bring them in alive, they died.”

“So that’s your excuse…”

Alastair’s shoulders dipped, and his previously proud and confident posture faltered inch by inch. He clasped his hands behind his back, but it looked less like discipline and more like bracing against the cold judgment rolling from the throne.

Back at the banquet table, his wife, Ophira, mirrored his posture without realizing it. Her spine was no longer upright, and her eyes darted between her husband and the king.

“My ancestors and I have given the ducal families almost full autonomy,” the king continued. “As long as you follow some of our most basic rules, you are free to govern the lands as you see fit. I trusted that each of you was capable of managing what was allocated to you. But tell me, Alastair. What exactly has the land of Greenvale become under your care?”

Alastair’s chest expanded with a desperate breath. “Prospering, my king! Our armies are stronger than ever before!”

The king’s gaze did not soften upon hearing his reply. In fact, it was the opposite. His already harsh gaze hardened, making the duke outright flinch. “Is that so? Then explain the open war with the criminal syndicate known as the Vesper Consortium, a war that has been raging for months.”

A large bead of sweat slipped down Alastair’s temple. He had hoped that the matter might have escaped the king’s immediate notice. But of course it hadn’t. Not with this king.

Still, he had prepared for this. He bowed his head deeply. “Yes, my king. I am ashamed to admit that the vermin dared to bare their fangs at me. But we are winning! They are being pushed back, and their losses far outweigh our own!”

“Is that so?” the king asked. His expression softened, but his voice still carried a dangerous undercurrent. “Then it makes sense why you claimed to have killed many criminals, yet could not present them here because of this… curse.”

Alastair nodded quickly in relief. “Indeed, Your Majesty.”

But then the king’s eyes sharpened. “Tell me, then. Who exactly were these ’high-level criminals’ you managed to kill after the Consortium grew bold enough to wage open war against your duchy? Surely they must have been big shots. Your army is as strong as it has ever been, correct?”

Before Alastair could respond, saying they got not only many Shadow Vanguard ranked members but even a good amount of Veil Walkers, the king spoke up once again. What he said made the duke’s heart skip a beat.

“Was it Black Fang you killed? The infamous woman who contends for the title of strongest human woman alongside my wife and the adventurer Lilith, leader of the Scarlet Lilies? The woman who is responsible for spreading the poisonous filth known as drugs to your people?”

Alastair meekly shook his head. Killing Black Fang? What?

“I see. Then you surely got at least one of her lieutenants. Was it Raika the Brutalizer? Vex the Hexblade? Orianna, the Flower Queen? Which one was it, Alastair?”

“N-none, my lord. B-but!”

He was interrupted once again. “Although Kaede and her Fujimori clan managed to find and kill Mordecai and both his lieutenants, who held the same position in the Phantom League as Black Fang and her lieutenants do in the Vesper Consortium, it is understandable not to get them. They are known to be fickle creatures who are hard to predict.”

Relief flickered in Alastair’s eyes. Perhaps this would be the end of this nightmare.

“What about Maelstrom?” the king asked suddenly, voice lashing out like a whip that hit the duke right in the face, “The leader of their armies? My sources tell me that wherever their front lines are, he is there. Surely you have already located and killed him.”

Alastair froze. “… No, my lord. We tried, but-”

The king did not so much as blink. “Then you must’ve brought down one of the other heads. The slavers, perhaps? The one they sickly call Mercy, head of their slavery department?”

Alastair swallowed. “No. She’s-”

“Their financial department, Broker, one of the richest men in the realm, known for funding the Consortium’s very existence? The boss of this woman’s husband, whom you claimed to be one of the richest?” Alexios asked while pointing at Jasmine’s mother.

“… No, my lord.”

“Their logistics head, Garrick ’the Ferryman,’ whose networks keep the Consortium supplied even in wartime?”

“… No, my lord.”

“Their intelligence head, Whisper, the ghost who is said to trade in secrets worth more than cities?”

“… No, my lord. He’s very-”

The king’s eyes were now slits of steel. “Then the acting leader of the Consortium itself. The Mediator.”

Alastair’s voice was barely above a whisper. “… No.”

The pause that followed was brutal. It was not only Alastair who was sweating buckets. All the other dukes were as well. Why? Because, as the king had already mentioned, they were given near-perfect autonomy in their lands. The royal family never imposed their will over theirs when it came to happenings in the ducal territories. The fact that the king knew so much about a syndicate that was only present in the Greenvale Dukedom meant that even if the king didn’t say so, and never intervened, he was closely following the ongoings of his five duchies. Their lands. Their dealings. He knew of them.

“Then…” the king continued softly, “surely you killed at least one of their closest aides. The shadows they trust to guard their lives, the daggers they keep within arm’s reach.”

Alastair stared at the floor. “My King! We’ve killed many Veil Walkers! They are incredible powerhouses who are only below the Obsidian Circle Members on the ladder!”

“You did not answer my question, Alastair.”

If Alastair were a dogkin, his ears and tail would’ve flattened with pure dejection and mounting depression. “… None of them were close confidants of the department heads.”