Knight Lords: Infinite Simulation and the Path of Light

Chapter 230 Escape and Confrontation

Years later, upon stepping back into Cavendish Estate and seeing the familiar architecture, Haven naturally recalled the moment on that somewhat warm winter day when he and a group of carefree friends set off firecrackers in the square.

Looking back, everything has changed. So many things started from that moment, and the gears of fate have been moving forward with unstoppable momentum. Anyone who struggles will only leave their own mark, for better or for worse.

After Haven and his maternal grandfather each gave a speech, the situation was temporarily stabilized. Those present at the wedding were mostly from families with good relations with the Haven family.

Although nobles may quickly change their stance due to certain interests, they will not be too ruthless in this regard. For nobles, interests are important, but so are relationships.

“Let’s go, Kimiral. The matter is over. Let’s pay a visit to Marquis Cavendish. After all, our two families are on very good terms.”

Hearing his aunt's words, Kimira threw the half-eaten chicken foot onto the table, took out a silk handkerchief, and carefully wiped his hands. For a swordsman, clean and nimble hands are the most important thing.

The tall Kimira stood in stark contrast to his aunt Medra, yet no one dared to look down on this petite old lady who was only 1.5 meters tall.

After all, the various scandals this old lady was involved in when she was young still evoke sighs of admiration whenever they are talked about.

"Theodore..."

"None of us wanted this to happen."

"I hope you can pull yourself together. The Cavendish family can't do without your leadership."

When Ms. Medra came up and greeted him softly, Haven's grandfather remained remarkably composed.

"This is something no one wants to happen. I apologize for making you laugh today. I will personally visit you later to express my remorse."

"Ha ha……"

"No need for that. You have so many things to take care of. Given the relationship between our two families, such formalities are unnecessary. It's a pity that I, the old lady, don't have much fighting ability and need him to protect me. Otherwise, I would have asked my nephew to help me resolve this."

The two old men were here, spouting empty official platitudes. Haven raised an eyebrow, his eyes practically rolling out of his head.

Seemingly noticing that Haven's expression was somewhat unnatural, Ms. Medra turned to look at Haven and gave him a relatively kind smile.

"Young man, you did a great job just now."

"Your name is Haven, right?"

Looking at the kind-faced old lady, Haven felt as if he were being watched by some ferocious beast, and subconsciously shrank back.

"Hehe, hello, madam. It's my pleasure, it's my pleasure. I'm so sorry to have startled you."

"Hehehe~"

Old Mrs. Medera stretched out her arm and wiped Havent's mouth.

"That smooth-talking little rascal must have been talking about me in his heart just now."

Feeling a little embarrassed that his thoughts had been directly exposed, Haven scratched his nose, wanting to say something more.

"Hehe, alright, Theodore, I'll be going now. You still have a lot of things to take care of here. Let's talk again when we have time. If you need any help, you can tell me or my brother."

After a brief, half-hearted hug, the old woman Medra turned and left. Kimira, who was following behind Medra, glanced at Havent, clearly also puzzled by Havent's sudden outburst, but ultimately held back.

The other guests also went up and had a brief conversation with the old Marquis Cavendish before preparing to leave.

Just as everyone was preparing to leave, a group of knights dressed in armor with magical auras poured in through the gate. A few minutes later, Frederick IV, dressed in full regalia, entered amidst the entourage of guards.

Upon seeing His Majesty the Emperor arrive, the nobles who had not yet left hurriedly bowed to express their respect for him.

Frederick IV waved to the crowd and then walked toward Haven's maternal grandfather.

"Dear Cavendish~"

"I was deeply saddened to learn of this incident. I will pursue those who dared to carry out this attack to the end, no matter who they are."

Faced with Frederick IV's words, the Marquis of Cavendish could only nod silently. His Majesty's arrival at the Cavendish family at this juncture was undoubtedly a guarantee of support, which was much needed by the Cavendish family, which had suffered heavy losses at this time.

After exchanging a few more words with the Marquis Cavendish, Frederick IV turned his gaze to Havent, who was standing to the side, lost in thought.

At this moment, the multiple feelings of mental and physical fatigue made Haven feel like his brain was a mess, and he couldn't concentrate at all as his mind wandered.

"Hehehe, how about it, Havente?"

You look a bit disheveled.

Upon hearing the voice, Haven looked up and saw Frederick IV standing in front of him, looking at him with a teasing expression.

Frederick IV's voice carried a deliberate ease, yet it sounded out of place in the blood-soaked air.

Seeing the boy's disheveled appearance, he reached out as if to pat Haven's shoulder, but when his gaze fell on the gruesome tear in the leather armor on the boy's chest and the dark red bloodstains that had seeped in, he paused and ultimately just gently touched it.

"It looks like..."

Frederick IV's gaze swept over Hevent's face, which was covered in dust and dried blood, and his slightly blurred, gray-green pupils, which were dimmed from exhaustion.
"You look terrible today, not like how dashing you were at MI8 the other day."

Faced with Frederick IV's mockery, Hevent twitched the corner of his mouth, which aggravated the wound in his chest. A sharp pain made him gasp, and he replied in a muffled voice:
"Your Majesty, you flatter me. Rather than admiring my 'wounds,' shouldn't you be more concerned about who dares to stage such a grand, bloody feast in the heart of the capital's noble district, at the wedding of a marquis's heir?"

He pointed to the mess around him: shattered glassware, an overturned ornate dining table, pools of congealed blood, corpses covered in white sheets, and an overwhelming smell of rust and despair in the air.

"This is no longer a simple assassination, Your Majesty. This is a declaration of war, a blatant trampling on the imperial order."

The emperor's carefully maintained ease vanished completely, replaced by a deep, still calm that seemed to be brewing a storm.

"A declaration of war..."

Frederick IV repeated in a low voice, not loud, but very clear.

"Your choice of words is very bold, but also very precise."

Frederick IV turned to Hevent, his gaze sharp as a hawk's:

"Tell me your thoughts, little Vent. You personally fought them, that werewolf Sindin, and that little girl with the purple dagger. In your opinion, where is the hand behind the scenes pointing in this game?"

Haven forced himself to concentrate, fighting off the dizziness. The images of his life-or-death battle with Vera flashed rapidly through his weary mind.

"That werewolf, he's gotten stronger."

"The aura was more violent and chaotic than when we attacked you near the palace that night, and the power seemed to have increased strangely."

When he appeared, his goal was clear; he seemed to be attracted by some kind of 'scent' on me… I suspect it's related to the mess at the riverside dock and the garbage dump farm; he's made a new 'breakthrough'.”

He recalled the greedy yet suspicious look in Sinding's eyes as he sniffed.

"As for this group of assassins..." Haven subconsciously touched the wound on his chest, where it was still throbbing slightly.

"If I'm not mistaken, they should be from the Dark Night Alliance."

However... the female assassin I fought fiercely with just now revealed some information.

She said she was helping those guys get something done.

Clearly, she and Sinding weren't on the same side; their collaboration seemed more like a temporary arrangement, or perhaps orchestrated by someone higher up. Behind them must be a 'brain' capable of temporarily uniting different dark forces.

Frederick IV listened quietly, his fingers unconsciously tapping the hilt of his sword at his waist, producing a dull thud.

"Beastmen... Dark Alliance..."

Slowly savoring these two names,
"You found the 'Marigroyan' line and discovered the mass disappearance of people in the lower city and the cult rituals used to transform them into beastmen."

But that idiot Tang Ning, just when you were about to uncover more clues, took it upon himself to let all the suspects go, ostensibly to "maintain stability" and "avoid alerting the enemy."

Frederick IV's voice was laced with cold sarcasm.

"Now, the 'snake' not only hasn't been scared away, but it's bitten us hard, overturning the table! How many of those who were released were their informants? And how much intelligence has been continuously passed out through certain people within MI8?"

Under Haven's gaze, Frederick IV suddenly took a step closer, his eyes piercing, staring directly into Haven's tired yet still bright eyes:
"Havent, you said it all started when you investigated the beastman riots, then you followed the clues to the Rotten Mushroom Tavern, encountered the murder of Marigloyan, fought with that female assassin from the Dark Alliance, and now this bloody provocation against the Cavendish family, which is actually a provocation against the entire imperial aristocracy..."

Doesn't this series of events resemble a carefully woven web? Beastmen, the Dark Alliance, missing persons, the infiltrated security system, even my MI8, now riddled with holes… do these seemingly independent fragments all point to the core of the same conspiracy?

Haven was silent for a moment, his chaotic thoughts gradually clearing under the Emperor's guidance. He recalled Marigroyan's dying words about "friends in the Eastern District Four," which were silenced before he could finish speaking.

I recalled the panic hidden behind Chief of Staff Tang Ning's slippery excuses. I recalled the "cooperation" implied in Vera's cold words...

Thinking back to the source of Sinding's strange increase in power...

Countless clues collided and connected in his mind.

"Yes...right?"

After a moment of thought, Haven spoke slowly, his voice carrying a heavy, resolute tone.

"Your Majesty, this is no accident. This is the prelude to a meticulously planned war that is being waged on multiple fronts."

They are testing, exhausting, creating chaos, and paralyzing the empire's nerve center!

The beastman riots were the spark that ignited the fire, the disappearances and cult rituals were the accumulation of power, Marigroyan's death was a cover-up and a warning, Downing's dereliction of duty was a signal of internal disintegration, and today's wedding massacre..."

He took a deep breath, and another sharp pain shot through his chest wound.

"...It's a declaration! It's telling everyone that the 'Night Watchers' of the capital are blind, deaf, and even rotten! They can launch a fatal blow against any target of the Empire at any time, in any place! They are creating panic, tearing apart trust, and paving the way for greater turmoil!"

A hint of admiration flashed in Frederick IV's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a deeper sense of solemnity. He patted Haven's shoulder lightly, this time without avoiding the wound, the pressure neither too light nor too heavy, carrying a heavy sense of entrustment.

“You’re right, little Vent.”

Panic, division, turmoil... that's their goal.

What supports all of this are the deeply entrenched and festering contradictions beneath the empire's body.

Nobles and commoners, central government and local authorities, newly rich and old power, even... imperial power and those shadowy figures who believe they can control everything.

Frederick IV's gaze drifted into the distance, seemingly piercing through the walls of Cavendish Estate and revealing the turbulent undercurrents of the entire Holy Song Rimayara.

"Contradiction, Haven, is the most enduring thing in the world. Peace is merely a temporary balance of contradictions. Like shadows under the sun, they never disappear, but only change shape as the light shifts."

The empire spanned over two thousand years, and in that long period, the accumulated contradictions had become as thick as a mountain. Greed, ambition, an insatiable thirst for power, and a perpetual dissatisfaction with the status quo…

These are deep-seated problems within human nature, chronic illnesses hidden beneath the glory of empires. They cannot be eradicated by a single purge or victory. Old conflicts are resolved, but new ones will inevitably arise. This is the perpetual predicament we must confront.

Frederick IV's voice was deep and powerful, carrying a sense of world-weariness and helplessness.

"Hoping to completely eliminate all enemies and eradicate all contradictions is a child's delusion. What we can do is, like the most experienced gardener, constantly prune those wildly growing branches that threaten the trunk and roots; like the most vigilant hunter, always ready to deliver the most fatal blow when those lurking venomous snakes and beasts bare their fangs!"
Maintain a relative, dynamic balance. Use force to deter, wisdom to differentiate, and rules to constrain, ensuring that those things in the shadows can only exist in their proper corners, unable to truly overturn the order under the sunlight.

After saying all that, Frederick IV let out a soft sigh.

"Havent, let me ask you a question. Do you think it's possible for two forces with opposing stances to coexist peacefully..."

Looking at the emperor, who was so different from before, with the faint smell of blood lingering in his nostrils, Haven once again fell into deep thought.

Yes... can such contradictions really change due to certain circumstances?

No, it's never just a matter of life and death.

"So, Your Majesty, you mean..."

At this moment, Haven looked intently at His Majesty the Emperor. His seemingly gentle way of doing things seemed to have a different meaning upon closer examination.

So much so that Haven noticed something different in the old emperor's gaze.

MI8!

Frederick IV spoke casually, as if he were discussing something that wasn't very important.

"Don't you think it's rotten to the core, little Vent..."

Tang Ning was just the beginning; behind him lay a complex web of connections, the 'snakes' he let go in his dereliction of duty, and the ambiguous 'understanding' between him and certain forces…

These all need to be thoroughly eradicated! But I need someone who can escape this quagmire, who is not constrained by any force, who has the ability, the courage, and most importantly—the eyes that can see into the abyss—to wield this 'sword of purging'!

Frederick IV’s gaze was so intense that Hevent felt a burning sensation.

"Gene is a talented person, but he's been confined for too long; there are things he can't do, and dare not do. And you, Haven..."

Frederick IV pressed down on Haven's shoulder again, his grip tightening, as if trying to imprint some heavy mission into his bones.

“You are the White Lion of the North. You do not belong to any of the corrupt circles in the capital. You are young, sharp, and fearless.”

However, there are some things that you can't cleverly avoid; they just make things happen sooner or later.

Actually, you've already discovered many problems during your investigation, haven't you? It's just that you don't want to get involved anymore, feeling that these things are none of your concern.

Frederick IV stared intently at Haven with his amber eyes, as if trying to find some answer in the heart of the young man before him.

"If you had investigated a little more thoroughly back then, wouldn't things have been different...?"

(End of this chapter)