Chapter 119: Secret Mission

Craig stepped briskly out of his private quarters, leaving Arya standing in the quiet room with her flushed, deceitful face.

Master Ea fell into step beside him, his white cloak rustling softly against the cold stone floor as they navigated the grand, vaulted hallways of Heaven’s Net Castle toward the Audience Chamber.

Along the corridors, uniformed maids carrying silver basins and heavily armored guards holding halberds immediately halted their duties, pressing themselves against the walls and bowing their heads in crisp, military precision.

"Good morning, Lord Viscount!" they greeted in quiet reverence.

Craig responded with effortless nobility, offering brief nods and warm, sovereign smiles as he passed.

To the staff of Heaven’s Net Castle, he was no longer just the young, exiled master who had arrived with a modest retinue.

He was the sovereign who had secured the Dragon’s Pit, commanded three apex beasts, and brought absolute stability to the Myrain Viscounty.

As they reached the grand foyer leading directly into the high double doors of the Audience Chamber, Craig halted his steps.

He turned his head to observe Master Ea.

The newly appointed Minister of State Affairs was a refined, middle-aged man with sharp gray eyes and a neat, silver-trimmed beard.

His flowing white cloak bore the fresh gold-stitched crest of the Myrain civil administration—a title Craig had personally bestowed upon him after evaluating his brilliant, untainted bureaucratic mind during the territory’s restructuring.

"Master Ea," Craig spoke, his voice dropping into a low, measured tone that carried total authority.

"I am at your command, My Lord," Master Ea replied instantly, bowing his head slightly.

"Within the next forty-eight hours, I shall be departing from the Myrain Viscounty on a month-long diplomatic and commercial trip to the Eastern Continent," Craig revealed, keeping his expression composed.

"My objective is to secure exclusive maritime trade routes that will funnel wealth directly into our markets. However, while I am away, the full weight of the viscounty’s civil governance will fall upon your shoulders."

Craig looked deeply into the minister’s eyes.

"As Minister of State Affairs, you will serve as the supreme supervisor over the ten council masters. You will manage the territory, maintain our economic momentum, and ensure public order remains absolute in my absence."

Craig leaned in slightly, his golden-crimson eyes glinting with a cold, sharp warning. "Do not disappoint me, Ea."

Master Ea did not falter.

He immediately placed his right hand over his heart, dropping onto a shallow knee right there in the empty foyer, his voice trembling with profound, unyielding devotion.

"My Lord Viscount... you pulled me from obscurity and entrusted me with the grandest opportunity of my life," Master Ea swore, his gray eyes burning with fierce loyalty.

"You gave me the power to become a man worthy of respect, a man useful to a true sovereign. I swear upon my bloodline and my soul—I shall govern this viscounty with unblemished perfection. I will not disappoint you!"

Craig smiled warmly, placing a hand on the minister’s shoulder.

"Rise, Ea."

As the middle-aged man stood, smoothing his white cloak, Craig gave him his second, far more specific directive.

"There is one more task you must handle personally—a private matter that requires total discretion," Craig continued smoothly. "While I am away in the East, I want you to assign our quietest intelligence operatives to keep eyes on a specific figure in the Southern Continent. A man named Rutiger Paulo."

Master Ea’s brow raised slightly in curiosity, but he listened attentively. "Rutiger Paulo... Understood, My Lord. What are your specific orders regarding his handling?"

"You will monitor his movements, his affiliations, and his location, relaying encrypted reports directly to my private desk," Craig ordered, his eyes narrowing into cold, calculating slits.

"However... hear me clearly, Ea. If your operatives report that Rutiger Paulo comes under attack, faces a sudden ambush, or encounters a high-level assassination attempt... you are to do nothing."

Craig’s tone hardened into pure ice. "Under no circumstances are you or my intelligence network to intervene. Even if he is on the verge of being slaughtered... you must stand down and let fate take its course. Do you understand?"

Master Ea was taken aback for a brief second by the strange, lethal nature of the directive, but he quickly suppressed his doubt, giving a firm, absolute nod. "I understand completely, Lord Viscount. No matter what calamity befalls this Rutiger Paulo, House Darkstar will not lift a single finger to assist him. I swear it."

"Good," Craig replied softly.

In truth, the man named Rutiger Paulo was far from an ally—he was a butcher.

In Craig’s past life before his regression, Rutiger Paulo was a ruthless, bloodthirsty Ranker who had eventually been recruited by the Sixth Successor ten years into the bloody Succession War.

During the darkest days of that conflict, Rutiger had personally led a brutal night ambush that ended in the horrific murder of Dwayne Darney—Craig’s most loyal, cherished companion, a man who had bled for Craig when no one else would.

The memory of Dwayne’s lifeless eyes still burned like liquid acid in Craig’s mind.

By deliberately feeding Rutiger’s name to Arya as a "valuable Ranker he intended to recruit," Craig had set a masterclass trap.

Arya would inevitably leak this classified intelligence to her secret master—the mysterious figure pulling her strings from the shadows.

That unknown mastermind, desperate to prevent Craig from gaining another powerful asset, would immediately dispatch high-level assassins to the Southern Continent to eliminate Rutiger Paulo before Craig could reach him.

In doing so, Craig would accomplish two monumental objectives with a single stone: he would use his enemy’s own assassin network to eradicate the man who was destined to slaughter his best friend, and the movements of those assassins in the South would create a clear, traceable trail that would eventually unmask the secret faction manipulating Arya.

It was a cold, flawless play of shadow warfare.

A subtle, dangerous smirk curled the corner of Craig’s lips before vanishing into his noble facade.

"Excellently done, Master Ea," Craig nodded, turning back toward the grand entrance. "Let us not keep our council waiting any longer."

"Right behind you, My Lord," Master Ea answered, stepping up to flank his lord.

As they reached the threshold, the two heavily armored sentries guarding the entrance slammed the butts of their halberds against the stone floor in a resounding echo.

CLANG!

"Announcing His Grace, Lord Viscount Craig von Darkstar!" the sentries bellowed in unison.

The colossal, iron-reinforced mahogany doors of the Audience Chamber slowly swung wide open, revealing the grand, vaulted hall within.

Inside, standing along a massive horseshoe-shaped marble table, all ten ministers, military commanders, and departmental directors immediately turned their heads, bowing their heads in deep, unified reverence as their sovereign stepped into the room.