Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 404 The Death of the Regent?
The study was as warm as early spring, with a roaring fire in the fireplace that made the whole room feel cozy.

But outside the window, the rain was pouring down and thunder was constant, as if the entire capital was immersed in darkness.

The fourth prince, Rhine, sat by the window, holding a pot of precious and delicate flowers in one hand and silver scissors in the other.

The sound of rain tapping on the window and the soft click of scissors mingled, yet none of it could disturb him in the slightest.

His movements as he trimmed the branches were elegant and slow, each cut seemingly made with patience and indifference.

Finance Minister Belair stood beside him, the thick financial report slightly bent from his grip.

He cleared his throat, his tone respectful yet tinged with urgency: "Your Highness, the commander of the 22nd Legion just sent a secret letter with his trusted aide... He says he is willing to submit to you."

Rhine hummed in agreement, as if listening to something trivial.

He lifted the flower branch, cut off a yellowed leaf, and smiled faintly: "The Second Prince's most trusted Iron Guard... is nothing more than this."

He flicked the withered leaf with his fingertip and watched it fall into the silver plate.

"Loyalty?" he murmured. "Ha, as fragile as this leaf."

Belial bowed slightly, as if to agree or to flatter: "The legion commander initially wanted to draw his sword and kill our envoy. But his family's warehouses don't even have enough hay for next spring's horses."

We cleared his nephew of smuggling charges and even paid him three months' back pay... He knelt down faster than anyone else. These military officers always did that.”

Rhine chuckled, as if he had heard some self-evident truth.

He continued trimming the flowers and plants: "My second brother always believed that as long as you risked your life alongside knights, they would be as loyal as in the legends. But he never understood..."

The scissors clicked softly again.

"When glory cannot be exchanged for material goods, a knight is less loyal than a servant tending hay in the stable."

After saying that, he finally put down the scissors and picked up the gold-dipped quill pen on the table.

He walked to the large map of the empire on the wall and gently covered the flags of the 21st and 18th Legions with the insignia that symbolized his authority.

“Your Highness,” Belial lowered his voice, “there are still five legions wavering. If they continue to wait… all the military officers of the Empire are watching your next move.”

Rhine stopped writing and looked back at him.

His gaze didn't resemble that of a young prince; it was more like that of an old fox scrutinizing a chessboard.

“Attitude?” he repeated softly. “My attitude has always been simple: it depends on their own attitude.”

He walked back to his desk, picked up the withered leaf that had been cut off, and gently rubbed it: "Tell them... their time is running out."

The withered leaves turned into powder in his palm, and the gray fragments fell through his fingers like a scattering of old ash.

Thunder roared outside the window, as if to finish the sentence he hadn't said.

Rhine looked at the dust in his palm, his expression unchanged.

That composure did not stem from the young prince's recklessness, but from the confidence he truly possessed at that moment. Those military officers who were originally unrelated to him had already been won over step by step by him.

Meanwhile, nearly half of the core legions under the Second Prince's command also defected to him under the pressure of famine and supply disruptions.

Those people used to shout about loyalty louder than the wind, but as long as their military pay was paid on time and they had someone to support their families, their so-called "loyalty" immediately shifted to someone else.

Today, the military power he commands far surpasses that of any other faction in the empire.

He has no shortage of knights, nor is he lacking in people willing to risk their lives for him.

Just then, a soft knock came at the door. A guard pushed the door open and entered. As soon as he stepped into the study, he saw that Belial was also there. He paused slightly, as if he wanted to say something but swallowed it back.

Rhine looked up and saw through his hesitation: "News from the palace?"

The guard nodded.

“Speak,” Rhine said in a tone as gentle as if he were asking about the weather. “Belial is one of us.”

Belial was taken aback by what he heard, feeling a sudden jolt in his chest, and a genuine sense of emotion appeared on his face.

The guard straightened up and reported, "Your Highness... news has come from the palace that the Regent may not last more than two days."

As soon as he finished speaking, the downpour pounded against the window with a heavy, sharp sound.

Rhine lowered his head and chuckled softly, as if he couldn't help it, or as if he was mocking the arrangement of fate: "Ah...it's finally come to this."

Belial lowered his head, unsure whether he should laugh or not, and could only carefully maintain his silence.

Rhine, however, had already turned to the guard: "Go tell the steward that I'm hosting a ball tonight. Invite representatives from all eight great families, and also invite high-ranking officials from the empire."

He paused, his tone as light as if he were talking about something trivial: "Write down who came and who didn't."

The guard accepted the order and was about to leave when he heard Rhine add, "Oh, right... remember to invite Second Brother and Fifth Brother to come and participate as well."

His tone was polite and gentle.

…………

The torrential rain pounded against the eaves of the palace, its force seemingly capable of tearing the entire capital apart.

Thunder rumbled deep in the sky, casting the golden stone pillars outside the palace on and off.

Inside Regent Arens's bedroom, candlelight flickered in the damp, cold air, its flames squeezed thin by the wind, illuminating the deathly silence of the room.

The air was filled with a sweet, rotten smell, the stench of a dying man.

Arens lay in bed, his emaciated body now almost nothing but skin and bones.

He briefly awoke amidst the excruciating pain, his gaze laboriously shifting towards the entrance of the palace.

An old man quietly emerged from the shadows.

It was Lin Ze, the Grand Eunuch of the Imperial Household Department, who served three emperors and was said to have lived for over two centuries.

He was still hunched over, yet as steady as an old tree.

Arens' lips trembled, his voice breaking into a chilling whisper: "All of you, step back..."

The physicians, pale-faced, hastily withdrew as if they had been pardoned.

The heavy door slowly closed behind them, the vibrations echoing deep within the palace.

In the end, only two people remained in the huge room: the dying regent and the old man who always stood in the deepest shadow of imperial power.

Aarons could feel the chill creeping up his limbs, like a tide rising up his chest.

Knowing he wouldn't make it through the day, he mustered his last strength to grab Lin Ze's wrist.

That grasp was dry and weak, yet it was like grasping at a useless straw when drowning.

“Lin Ze…” Aarons’s cloudy pupils trembled slightly, “I tried my best… really… Father… will he blame me…”

This is the most vulnerable question a dying person has, not the regent's interrogation, but a son's fear.

Lin Ze showed no sadness on his face. He remained expressionless as always, as if nothing in the world could stir any emotion within him.

He gently grasped Arens's cold hand, leaned down, and brought his face, marked by the passage of time, close to the Regent's left ear.

He whispered in a very soft voice, a sentence that didn't sound like a word of comfort.

Aarons' pupils, which had been dilating, suddenly contracted to the size of pinpoints as he stared intently at the old man who had raised him.

His emaciated chest heaved violently, and a gurgling sound came from his throat, as if he wanted to shout something, but he could no longer utter a complete syllable.

Lin Ze simply looked back with those indifferent eyes.

Then, the seemingly hunched and thin old man gently lifted the regent's body, his movements as tender as if he were holding a baby.

"Let's go, Master Arens." The next moment—BOOM!!

Lightning tore through the night sky, and white light pierced through the window and into the bedroom.

When the thunder subsided, the two people in the palace had vanished without a trace.

Only the candlelight still flickers, illuminating the empty palace, as if everything had never existed.

…………

Thunder roared outside the window, as if it were tearing a hole in the night sky, and torrential rain pounded against the eaves, as dense as war drums.

However, the banquet hall in the Fourth Prince's residence was a completely different world.

The royal orchestra sat in a corner, with strings and flutes gently intertwining as they played an elegant court suite.

The music steadily suppressed the raging thunder outside, creating the illusion that this space was completely isolated from the rest of the capital.

The air was filled with the aroma of fine black tea, with a subtle floral scent.

Rhein disliked strong liquor and preferred tea on such occasions, as it helped him stay sober and made him appear more restrained and elegant.

The fact that the guests are standing here tonight is a symbol of their status.

Only those who are at least counts or above, or true lords who command a substantial military force, are qualified to enter this banquet hall.

They were not wealthy through sheer money, but rather people who could influence the fate of a region within the empire.

This is why their behavior exudes a sense of tension, a restraint that cannot conceal their ambition.

Several elderly nobles bowed slightly, as if making a gesture of goodwill towards the future, a posture that almost bordered on obsequiousness.

The men, from families with a long history of military service, had broad shoulders and stood ramrod straight, yet they would occasionally glance up at the Rhine.

They are used to following the strong, and the strongest in the capital city is now clearly the Fourth Prince.

Duke Simmons stood in the center of the banquet hall, dressed up for the evening.

The family's deep purple tiger robe with gold patterns was draped over his shoulders. It was a symbol of the status of the head of the Simmons family, one of the eight great families, and was only worn on truly important occasions.

His entire face was filled with an irrepressible joy, as if it were a release after years of suppression.

After all, he had been betting on the fourth prince for more than a year or two.

Now the rewards are finally coming.

Simmons raised his teacup, his voice booming beyond what one would expect of an elder: "Gentlemen! Let us raise a glass to the new era that is about to begin! To the new era led by His Highness the Fourth Prince! The Empire will return to the path of reason!"

The surrounding civil officials and nobles nodded in agreement, their tone filled with eager flattery.

The entire banquet was like a warm and bright stage, where each nobleman carefully performed loyalty and expectation.

Judging from the scene, this was practically a pre-coronation banquet.

At the head of the table, Rhine held a cup of black tea, his expression humble: "Your Grace is too kind."

But there was obvious joy in his eyes, as if he had heard a melody that resonated deeply with him.

Duke Simmons approached a few steps, holding a cup, his demeanor both cautious and smug: "Your Highness, the succession documents from the Oversight Council are ready."

Once the bell tolls, those eight powerful families who were waiting and watching... I've already given them a heads-up. They know exactly which side they should be on now.

The confidence in his tone stemmed from the fact that he had indeed rallied many people to support the fourth prince, which was the most triumphant political gamble of his life.

Rhine raised his eyes slightly, his gaze filled with encouraging tenderness: "You've worked hard, Simmons. The future empire will surely have a very important position reserved for you."

Duke Simmons felt a wave of relief wash over him and couldn't help but chuckle softly, "It is my honor to have the Emperor's trust."

Rhine's fingertips tightened slightly, the teacup swayed gently, but not a single drop spilled.

He clearly enjoys the title.

Another thunderous roar shook the window frame, but the heavy curtains kept it firmly inside.

Inside the banquet hall, glasses clinked lightly, whispers filled the air, and laughter mingled with fawning.

The atmosphere seemed to tell every guest that the future power of the empire had firmly fallen into the hands of the fourth prince.

Just then, a personal guard quietly entered through the side door.

His movements were as light as a ghost, without disturbing any guests, as he moved through the candlelight and came to Rhine's side.

He leaned down and whispered in a voice only the Fourth Prince could hear, "Your Highness, urgent report... The Second Prince's residence and the Fifth Prince's residence are empty."

The news was so significant that many nobles would lose their composure on the spot, but Rhine's hand didn't even tremble; he simply continued to hold his teacup steadily.

This was within his expectations.

When prey senses danger, it will naturally flee, but the faster it flees, the more it shows that the balance of power has completely tipped in its favor.

The guard shifted his feet nervously: "Your Highness...aren't you going to close the city gates and pursue them?"

Rhein raised his teacup and took a sip. "Now that the city's defenses are in my hands, they have no food and no soldiers. Even if they escape, what trouble can they cause? Let them run, the farther the better, it will solidify their crime of fleeing to escape punishment."

The guards were ordered to retreat.

Less than ten minutes later, the guard rushed in again, his expression noticeably more panicked, and he couldn't even suppress his trembling voice when he came to Rhine's side.

Rhine smiled and asked, "You caught two mice?"

The guard struggled to speak: "Your Highness... no. It's... the Regent."

"Oh?" Rhine raised an eyebrow. "Is the anger gone?"

“No…they’re gone.” The guard swallowed hard. “His Highness Regent Arens and Lord Lin Ze, the Chief Steward of the Imperial Household…vanished into thin air in the palace. When we went in, we only saw a faint glimmer of light.”

Rhine's hand finally trembled slightly, and the cup of black tea swayed gently.

He stared at the guard, confirming, "Are you sure he's not here?"

The guard nodded.

Music filled the banquet hall, and the guests remained immersed in the boisterous celebrations, unaware of the storm brewing on the edge of the throne.

Rhine suppressed the sudden unease in his chest and quickly calmed himself down.

"The truth doesn't matter," he told himself. "What matters is what everyone believes."

He then gave the order in a low voice, speaking very quickly but clearly: "From this moment forward, Regent Aarons died of illness ten minutes ago. Physicians and guards can testify to this."

The guard hesitated: "But...the corpse..."

"Find a body," Rhine said coldly. "A similar build will suffice. Treat the face with alchemical potions to make it unrecognizable; say it's a festering sore from an illness."

The guard's pupils contracted: "Your Highness, this..."

Rhine looked up and repeated, word by word, "The Regent is dead tonight. That's the only truth. In the announcements tomorrow and the day after, he must be depicted as a corpse lying in a coffin. You must do it."

Before he could finish the sentence, the guard realized the consequences. His face turned pale, and he said in a trembling voice, "Yes... I will definitely do it."

As the guards hurriedly left, the guests at the banquet noticed the commotion.

Dozens of eyes turned to the main seat simultaneously.

Rhine slowly rose, his expression composed, and announced in a sorrowful voice, "Gentlemen... we have just received news. His Highness Regent Arens... has just passed away."

(End of this chapter)