Final Lord

Chapter 277 Investigation
"How could a minor noble family that can't even manage its territory properly have such audacity and strength?" the Crimson Flame Sword Saint continued, his tone growing increasingly grave. "If we rashly send troops to attack without investigating the reasons behind it, we risk falling into someone else's trap and incurring unnecessary sacrifices!"

He turned slightly, his gaze sweeping over the nobles who had just been filled with righteous indignation, and said coldly, "Don't you all find it strange? Viscount Hank has a distinguished military record, and his Silver Shackled Knights are the elite of the elite. How could they be so easily defeated by an unknown minor lord?"

The Minister of War frowned upon hearing this, about to retort, but the Crimson Sword Saint turned to the Buck King again, knelt on one knee, and said in a deep voice, "Your Majesty, I implore you to postpone your military campaign and thoroughly investigate this matter first! If Kate Gru truly has committed treason, then it is not too late to punish him; but if someone uses him as a pawn to incite internal strife, then the Buck King is in grave danger!"

His words were powerful and resounding, and the hall fell silent for a moment.

King Charlie of the Bucks' deep gaze fell on the Crimson Flame Sword Saint, the stag head carved at the top of the gilded scepter gleaming with a cold metallic luster in the morning light.

He nodded slightly, his deep voice like an undercurrent surging beneath a frozen lake: "Chi Yanqing is absolutely right. There are indeed many strange things about this matter." His slender fingers gently traced the patterns on the scepter as he continued, "In your opinion, how should we thoroughly investigate this?"

The Crimson Flame Sword Saint bowed, his snow-white beard and hair fluttering in the morning breeze. He raised his weathered yet still sharp eyes, his voice steady and powerful: "Your Majesty is wise. Vee Gru, sister of Kate Gru, is indeed my last disciple."

At this point, his calloused hands unconsciously tightened their grip on his sword. "That child is simple-minded, possesses exceptional swordsmanship talent, and is by no means a rebellious individual. I personally believe there must be more to this story."

A murmur rippled through the hall, and the light and shadow reflected from the crystal chandelier danced on the astonished faces of the civil and military officials.

The Crimson Flame Sword Saint remained unmoved and continued, "This old minister humbly recommends my son, Pietro Starn, to investigate. Although he is only twenty-five years old, he has already reached the sixth level of the Transcendent Realm and has inherited the profession of [Crimson Flame Swordsman] passed down through generations of my Starn family." As he spoke, the muscles beneath his gilded wrist guards tensed slightly. "With his strength, he can protect himself without attracting too much attention, making him the most suitable person for covert investigation."

The Buck King's lips curled into a slight smile, the jeweled chains hanging from his gilded crown casting dappled light on his cold, handsome face. He slowly rose, his deerskin cloak unfurling behind him like a banner: "Granted."

The brief command, like a drawn sword, cut off all the whispers in the hall.

"I hereby bestow upon Pietro Stanislav the seal of the Imperial Envoy, granting him the authority to mobilize spies from the three border cities." With a dull thud of his scepter, his deep gaze swept over the assembled officials: "This matter, I demand a thorough investigation."

The Crimson Flame Sword Saint knelt on one knee, the clang of his armor striking the gilded floor tiles ringing out: "On behalf of my son, this old minister thanks Your Majesty for your trust."

As he lowered his head, a barely perceptible worry flashed in his eyes beneath his white eyebrows—what kind of vortex had Wei Yi, that child, been caught in?
……

Morning light streamed through the stained glass windows of the palace training grounds, casting dappled shadows onto the bluestone pavement. Pietro Stane's crimson longsword clashed with Prince Charles's gilded rapier, sending sparks flying.

The two figures moved through the light and shadow, the sharp whistling of swords cutting through the air like the flapping of hummingbird wings.

"Your Highness's 'Morning Star Thrust' was executed brilliantly!" Pietro dodged the sword aimed straight at his throat, and with a backhand flick, unleashed a fiery arc. His Crimson Flame Swordsman Armor hummed deeply as he moved at high speed, and the beads of sweat on his forehead evaporated into white mist before they could even drip.

Prince Charles did not answer. Suddenly, his gilded rapier changed its stance to "Moonlight Chain," the tip transforming into seven cold stars that enveloped Pietro. His movements were swift and fierce, each sword strike carrying the brutal ferocity of battlefield combat—a swordsmanship truly forged in blood and fire.

"Clang! Clang! Clang!"

The sound of metal clashing was as dense as rain.

Pietro's pupils contracted slightly as he realized he had been forced back three steps. The prince's sword strikes were relentless, like a tidal wave, and by the thirty-second move, the tip of the sword had already pierced the straps of his shoulder armor.

"Excuse me!" Pietro hissed, and crimson flames suddenly erupted from the hilt of his sword. The temperature in the training ground soared, and the flames transformed into a roaring lion's head, lunging at the prince.

This was the Crimson Flame Swordsman's signature move, [Flame Lion Return], which shouldn't have been used during sword training. The fact that he used this move meant Pietro had lost. Charles was forced to leap backward, his gilded boots leaving two scorch marks on the bluestone. He flicked his sword and laughed, "Teacher, you're cheating!"

“It was my fault.” Pietro knelt on one knee, the armor striking the ground with a crisp sound. When he looked up, his eyes flashed with rare amazement: “Your Highness has mastered the Stag family’s swordsmanship to perfection. Even after suppressing my strength to the same level, I was still at a disadvantage in pure swordsmanship.”

Such talent is truly astonishing!

The morning breeze ruffled the prince's sweat-dampened blond hair. He gazed at the falling sycamore leaves by the training ground, his voice suddenly becoming ethereal: "Teacher, you flatter me. I am still far from being a true genius." The gilded sword tip unconsciously carved varying depths of marks on the bluestone.

Before Charles could finish speaking, the silence was broken by the sound of the messenger's hurried footsteps.

The weathered veteran stopped ten paces away, his armor clattering as he saluted, his hand on his chest: "Lord Stam, His Majesty summons you urgently!"

Pietro took the gilded scroll, and the antler-shaped sealing wax mark on the parchment made his fingertips tremble.

The King has personally ordered this to be extremely urgent!
When he saw the words "Investigation into the Gru family's treason case," a hidden fire ignited deep within his emerald eyes.

"I shall depart immediately." He pressed the scroll to his chest, his heart pounding beneath his armor.

The little junior sister, Wei Yi Ge Lu, whose white robes fluttered like cranes when she wielded her sword, actually had a brother who betrayed the country?

Charles, upon catching a glimpse of the scroll, froze on the spot.

The name Wei Yi Gru knocked on the door of his memory. His pupils contracted to the size of pinpoints, and memories of his past life flooded through the floodgates.

The royal banner burned, and the elven silver arrows rained down. As the commander of the routed cavalry, his warhorse, bound to his life, was riddled with arrows.

There is no escape, only certain death.

At this critical moment, a young female guard, as white as a feather, broke through the enemy lines and risked her life to clear a path for him.

In their final glance amidst the pool of blood, he would forever remember the resolute look in those emerald eyes: "Weiyi, go first. Your Highness, hurry!"
"Your Highness, you promised me that you would ascend the throne, uncover the truth behind the destruction of the Gru family, and clear their name. Please, Your Highness, do not forget your promise to Wei Yi."

“Wei Yi Gru?” the prince murmured absentmindedly, his gilded gloves crumpled in his hand.

The ghost who died for him in her past life has become the sister of a traitor in this life.

Pietro keenly noticed the prince's unusual behavior, but the urgent military orders were already echoing outside the palace walls.

He glanced one last time at the prince's pale face, and as he turned away, his crimson cloak billowed in a resolute arc.

Amidst the clanging of his armor, no one saw his hand trembling as he gripped his sword—for justice? For personal feelings? Perhaps even he himself couldn't tell.

(End of this chapter)