Wandering Swordsman |

As the sun set and night fell as dark as ink, it pressed heavily upon the spires of Silvermane City.

In the study of the second young master, Leonard, the candlelight was blocked by heavy curtains, leaving only a dim green copper lamp flickering on the desk, making half of his face look ghostly.

The servant knelt on the ground, his voice trembling: "Second Young Master... Eldest Young Master was practicing swordsmanship in the courtyard today. He had just lifted the sword when it slipped from his hand and fell to the ground, panting heavily. He also told the steward in public... that he wanted to inherit the title as soon as possible to appease the people."

"Heh..." Leonard let out a low laugh, but it was devoid of any warmth.

He slowly stood up, walked to the window, and stared intently through the window at the massive jade lion head in the middle of the courtyard, as if he wanted to devour it—it was the symbol of the Mason family's heir.

The title... should have been mine!

From a young age, his father's gaze was always fixed on Adrian—the eldest son, the legitimate heir.

And Leonard, despite his many schemes and decisive actions, was nothing more than the "second son," the "alternate candidate."

He had watched Adrian receive his family sword at the age of ten, patrol the border in place of his father at fifteen, and lead the knights at twenty... while he himself was dismissed with a casual remark, "Your brother is still alive, why should you worry about it?" when he even suggested opening up trade routes.

Now, Adrian actually wants to succeed to the throne ahead of schedule?

No... Absolutely not!

He clenched his fist tightly, his nails digging into his palm, his eyes flashing with a cold light: "Go, inform 'that person' and tell him to make his move after the banquet tonight, so we can frame those two missionaries."

The servant trembled, dared not ask any more questions, and crawled away.

......

Half an hour later, the main hall of the castle was brightly lit.

Baron Mason hosted a grand thank-you dinner for Hua Tianyou and Shen Mo. The long table was covered with snow-white linen, and the silverware gleamed. Roasted venison, truffle soup, and moonshine wine were served in succession.

During the banquet, musicians played melodious hymns, and maids walked slowly with their heads bowed, as if they were at a grand papal feast.

After several rounds of drinks, Baron Mason personally presented two sandalwood boxes. Upon opening them, gold ingots, jewels, and a papal pass were revealed. "My esteemed envoys," he said, "this is a small gift, a token of our gratitude. If not for you, my son's life would be in grave danger!"

Hua Tianyou smiled and declined, saying, "I am deeply grateful for the Baron's kindness. Saving people is simply an act of spreading our doctrine, and has nothing to do with money. We are ordered to head north, and our journey is urgent. We will depart early tomorrow morning."

Before he could finish speaking, Leonard, who happened to be nearby, overheard the conversation and put on a "sincere" smile: "How can the two holy envoys be in such a hurry? My elder brother has just shown signs of improvement, and the entire city longs to see his holy countenance!"

He turned to his father, his voice earnest: "Father, why don't we keep you both for a few more days? So that the whole city may witness that Silvermane City is blessed by the Holy Light!"

Baron Mason nodded repeatedly: "Yes! Yes! Leonard is absolutely right! Perfect timing, I'm planning to pass the title to Adrian tomorrow, why not stay a couple more days and witness it together!" However, Shen Mo stood beside Hua Tianyou, dressed in black as night, but his eyes were as sharp as a hawk's.

There must be a demon in the abnormal situation.

They just sent an assassin to kill me last night, and now Leonard is trying to keep me here? Isn't this just like protesting too much?

Shen Mo's intuition was right; Leonard was waiting—waiting for the "true missionary" he had bribed to identify Shen Mo and Hua Tianyou as imposters! In this far west, impersonating a holy envoy was a capital offense punishable by burning at the stake!

Shen Mo's Adam's apple bobbed slightly, and a wisp of true essence condensed into a sound beam, directly entering Hua Tianyou's ears:

"Reynard's motives are unclear, so let's refuse outright!"

Hua Tianyou remained unmoved, his face still showing sorrow, and was about to speak as Shen Mo had instructed—

"Father." A clear but weak voice came.

Everyone turned around and saw Adrian, wearing a silver fox fur coat, slowly approaching with the help of his servants.

His face was still pale, but his eyes were unusually clear. He walked straight to his father, bowed slightly, and spoke in a clear and firm voice:

"Since the two envoys have important matters to attend to, how can we, as those who have received their grace, delay their journey because of personal feelings? The Holy Light shines in all directions, not just in Silvermane City. Let them go."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over Leonard, a profound meaning in his eyes: "Besides... true gratitude is not about trying to hold on, but about remembering."

Baron Mason paused, then tears welled in his eyes: "Alright... as you say."

Leonard's face turned deathly pale instantly, and he forced a smile, saying, "Brother is right... I didn't think things through." But his fingers dug into his palms so hard that his nails almost pierced his flesh.

Hua Tianyou gave Adrian a deep look and nodded slightly: "Young Master Adrian is wise and admirable. May the Holy Light protect you and may your future be bright."

Shen Mo remained silent throughout, but as he turned around, his gaze swept across Leonard's face like an ice pick—in that instant, he clearly saw the resentment surging in the other's eyes.

After the banquet, Silvermane City sank into a false tranquility.

The moonlight, like frost, blanketed the corridors and spires, immersing the entire castle in a cold, silvery dream.

The guests had long since departed, and the servants had extinguished most of the candles, with only a few wisps of light still emanating from the east wing of the bedroom—the nightlight in Adrian's room, dispelling the nightmares left by the miasma of the canyon.

However, beneath this tranquility, a deadly intent was already lurking.

A dark shadow swept across the rooftop like a ghost, its toes touching the tiles silently, its form blending into the night, as if it were part of the darkness itself.

He was dressed in a tight-fitting dark suit, his face covered by an iron mask, and the twin blades at his waist gleamed with a cold, eerie blue light—he was none other than "Night Owl," the top assassin that Leonard had hired at great expense.

He pried open the window bolt of Adrian's bedroom and slipped in like a viper.

The room still smelled of medicine, and the bed curtains were drawn low, revealing a person lying inside.

Night Owl sneered, his short blade piercing straight for the heart—fast, accurate, and ruthless, leaving no chance of survival.

However, just as the knife tip was inches from his chest, the person on the bed suddenly rolled over and fell off!

Although Adrian's face was pale, his eyes were unusually clear.

He grabbed the sword from beside the bed and hastily parried.

"Clang!" Sparks flew everywhere, the impact causing his hand to split open, and blood dripped down the hilt of the sword.

But he managed to block two more attacks, staggering but not falling—it was the Mason family's "Silver Mane Sword Style," ingrained in his very bones even in his ailing body.

The third move: Night Owl changes his thrust into a slash, the blade flashing like lightning.

Adrian's sword flew out of his hand, blood spurted from his shoulder, and he crashed heavily into the wall, coughing up a mouthful of blood.

"Heh..." He leaned against the corner of the wall, panting heavily, but suddenly laughed. "Anyway, I'm about to die, so don't let me die a confused ghost. Tell me—who sent you? If I become a ghost after I die, at least I can find the right person to take revenge on and not bother your family."

Night Owl paused, a sneer coming from behind his mask: "If you have someone to blame, blame yourself for wanting to inherit the title ahead of time." His voice was hoarse like a whetstone. "The client said that as long as you live, he will never have a chance to rise in the ranks."

Adrian's pupils contracted sharply, and his face instantly turned deathly pale. His lips trembled as he murmured, "It really is... Leonard..."

"Now that you know," Night Owl's eyes flashed with a fierce light, his blade raised high, "then you can rest in peace!"