Silent Crown

Chapter 417 Bad News

Chapter 417 Bad News

As the door slammed shut behind Maxwell, he turned and gave the Judgement Tower one last glance. The calm and confidence disappeared from his face, revealing anxiety. "To the Amnesty Institute," he told the driver. But after opening the carriage door, he froze. Sunlight shone past the window curtains and illuminated the old man sitting within. The robed man looked up; emerald eyes stared at Maxwell. He patted the seat beside him, telling Maxwell to sit down He hesitated for a second. Climbing into the carriage, he chose to sit across from the elder instead.

"Archbishop Ludovic?" He studied the elder and his lips curled up. "I have been hoping to meet you but never thought you would come to me in such a unique way."

"Mr. Maxwell, nice to meet you." Ludovic nodded slowly. "I am no longer an archbishop. I am only an average ascetic monk."

Maxwell smiled but did not reply. An ascetic monk from the Ecclesiastical Order? Was he being modest or humorous? The safest reply was a smile.

"Mr. Maxwell is a guest. I should accompany you and introduce the city to you. However, I grew up here and spent my life in the churches amongst bells. I, unfortunately, cannot make a good tour guide." Ludovic looked outside the window and the city. "Mr. Maxwell, what do you think of this city?"

Maxwell said, "Naturally, it is sacred."

"Yes, it is the Sacred City." Ludovic sighed. "Someone once said that this is where the dignity and beliefs of humanity exist. It is the place that supports the heavens. That is why I revere this city.

"At the end of the Dark Age centuries ago, seventeen monks received signs from the heavens. They came here and hammered down the first metal pillar, announcing the coming of man's age.

"Now, so much time has passed. This is now the heart of the world, the city of God. However, of the descendants of those seventeen monks, only a few still exist—Sforza, Borja, Feliks, Medici…

"This city has been destroyed twice. Both times, it was rebuilt from the ruins. Some died with it; others were reborn. Despite all of this, the things in our blood have never changed. Our mission has never changed either.

"Too many people have bled for this city. Their souls converge here under the sacred calling to rest. I believe this may be evidence for the existence of a world and heaven after death." Ludovic made the cross over his chest. "This is also the reason why we exist."

"I am not very knowledgeable of theology and the Bible but my understanding has deepened after hearing your words." Maxwell nodded. "You must want to speak to me about 'reverence,' yes?"

"Perhaps," Ludovic replied lightly. "No matter what, it is your comprehension. As an ascetic monk, I only wish more can understand the truth of faith."

"Father, have you been to Avalon?" Maxwell suddenly asked.

"No."

"Avalon is my home. It is a very beautiful place," Maxwell stated. "It is built on the sea. When it is sunny, it looks like a gemstone floating in the sea, dazzling. It is not as majestic as the Sacred City but it is beautiful as well.

"In the summer, the entire city is embraced by the sea wind. Sea salt condenses on the beach. From a distance, it looks like white flowers. Children play on seesaws and fuss around on the pier and ships. If they fall into the water, they'll laugh and climb back up. The adults sit on the shore and drink while playing cards.

"Life seems carefree as if summer will never end. I think this was how the city was when it was first built. I will do whatever I can to let it remain like that forever because I love it."

After a long silence, Ludovic nodded gradually. "It is a beautiful place that deserves one's love. Why do you not return? Mr. Maxwell, as far as I know, doesn't your home need you the most now?"

"That is why I cannot return alone." Maxwell sat with a somber expression. "I am old but the youth and the city still has an endless future. Mr. Ludovic, he has a place he must return to. There is no need for him to pay his life for the holiness here."

"It is understandable for an outsider to speak like so." Ludovic chuckled indifferently as if he had heard a meaningless joke. Glancing at Maxwell, he said, "If Anglo continues to be reckless and continue down the wrong path, it will have to pay. That is all I wish to say to you today.

"Mr. Maxwell, you must consider your actions here. As far as I know, not many people in Anglo support you."

"If it is the right thing to do, the amount of support and recognition does not matter." Maxwell's eyes hardened. "That is what the child and I both think."

"No, you are not the same as him." Ludovic glanced at him and smiled somewhat mockingly. "Your eyes are too weak, Maxwell. You are not as determined as you think. It is destined that you will be compromised for this. If that boy is still stubborn, then you are only pretending to dream with him."

Maxwell fell silent, his face livid.

Ludovic reached out and patted his shoulder. "This is a good thing. That is why I gave you the chance to meet. Maxwell, do not continue like this, whether it is for you or your beloved country. The wild blood that Arthur left behind will lead you toward the demonic path."

Maxwell glared at him but Ludovic did not seem to mind. He rose and opened the carriage door to leave. Outside, he nodded in farewell. "Let us separate now. I hope you will cherish this last chance. I do not wish to be on either sides of the burning stake the next time I see you."

The door closed. The carriage moved forward in the dimness.

In the carriage, Maxwell closed his eyes and forced down the angry sword. "F*ck…"

-

When he returned to the embassy, a second piece of bad news came.

"Sir…" The face of the embassy's manager was green. "Half an hour ago, the Silent Authority came for the body. The security from last night was taken away too, to 'help with the investigation'." He paused and said hesitatingly, "And…"

"Quinn, I'm already this old. I've heard worse news." Maxwell took off his hat and sighed. "Tell me. Don't worry about my heart. It won't fail now."

The man handed over a picture wordlessly. It was a porcelain shop. All the porcelain there had been dyed blood-red. The workers were nailed to the wall. Before death, they had been tortured. Their eyes were full of despair.

"All dead," Quinn said.

Maxwell took the picture. Without saying anything, he stuffed it in his pocket and walked to his office. He regretted saying too much. Clenching the picture, his heart thudded painfully.

When the office door closed, he looked up. Looking at the man sitting behind his desk, he sighed. Maxwell placed the picture in a drawer and poured some liquor from the table in the corner. He tugged his collar loose and collapsed on the sofa, downing the liquor. After a long, long time, he rasped out, "Lancelot, I hope that you didn't come thousands of miles from Anglo to give me the third piece of bad news of today."

The pale man behind the table coughed and nodded slightly. "Sorry but I am."

Maxwell cursed like an old gangster from the streets. "Spit it out." He laughed hoarsely. "I can't wait."

"Since last night, already four countries and more than ten groups notified us about various problems," Lancelot said. "They might not be able to continue following through with our agreement of grain imports. The Privy Council has been able to keep things down but I think people will soon start raising the prices.

"I'm afraid it won't be long before we need to take over the market and economy to forcefully set the prices. If the situation continues to worsen, we will need to start using rations. The Minister of Finance wants me to tell you that he is considering quitting."

Maxwell froze. After a long while, he asked coldly, "How long can our war reserves last?"

"More than ten years," Lancelot replied. "But are you sure you want the nation to enter the state of war so early? It's too rushed, Maxwell. We will need to complete most preparations. It is too early…"

Maxwell fell silent. Anglo was an island country. More than half of the territory was on the sea. The other half was in the coastal area, easy to destroy. Anglo had always been a commerce country, relying on trade and technological research. In addition, its heavy industry was well-developed and was close to being the best in the world. However, none of that could make up for the country's fatal weakness: its lack of fertile soil. It could not support much agriculture and therefore relied on imports for food.

This was why Anglo had established the East Indian Company when India was in chaos and created a colony. India had large swaths of fertile soil and could grow millet, rice, tea, meat…

To achieve this, Anglo had paid a lot. It threw more than half of the military into the quagmire but also accumulated much wealth. However, as India became more and more chaotic and Leviathan's threat loomed, the colony shrunk. More and more people wished the country would pull the troops back.

Faced with one of the four living beasts, there were never enough supplies.

"Guess who's pressuring them?"

Maxwell did not even need to think to know the answer. Of course it was the Ecclesiastical Order! Those old guys only needed to use some of their connections and the families could use their political power to achieve this. They did not even have to destroy the agreements. They only needed to spread some rumors and the citizens would be thrown into chaos.

If the imports were delayed three months, Anglo would be forced into a regulatory state.

"So f*cked…" Maxwell lifted the bottle of liquor. Not in the mood to search for a glass, he drank half the bottle in one breath. After a long while, he said, "I saw Ludovic."

"I know." Lancelot nodded.

Maxwell laughed at himself. "For a moment, I wanted to kill him. Without caring about anything, just kill him." He looked down at the liquor. "But then I hesitated. Now I regret it…" He murmured, "I really hesitated. I should have killed him."

"Killing him would do nothing." Lancelot stood up and patted his shoulder. "Her Majesty gave you the authority for this matter. Everything is up to you. She wanted me to tell you that Anglo is a country that inherited dragon blood. We suffer from it but we also find pride in it."

Rather than replying, Maxwell smiled bitterly.

"Ludovic was right…I'm a liar who pretends to dream with the kid. I have no way of withstanding the possible consequences." He sighed. "I really regret it, Lancelot. Why did I agree to take this back then? It would have been so much better if I just stayed in the Jianlan Underground Palace."

"You want to give up now?" Lancelot's voice was low. "I gave you all my trust. If you give up, my family will be after you."

"Who said I'm giving up?" Maxwell looked up. "I still have an idea but it depends on whether you are willing to give up your position."

"The third amendment?" It dawned on Lancelot. The third amendment stated that the Sacred City ruled over man's soul while the nations ruled over the man's body. God's domain belonged to God; man's domain belonged to the men.

It was stated in the amendment that the Sacred City had no right to interfere in a country's matters. Its extension stated the nobles were to be prosecuted by the country rather than the Sacred City. The 'noble' mentioned here was not the type titled by the country but the true nobles who could trace their sources. According to pedigree, the title of the Anglo emperor was only an archduke. 'Emperor' was a self-proclaimed title and was regulated by the Sacred City.

It was impossible to pull a title out of thin air for Ye Qingxuan.

However, if Lancelot was willing to step down, the title of the family leader would be given to Ye Qingxuan as according to Anglo's law of inheritance. Then he would be the current Lancelot and inherit the title of Earl. Then Ye Qingxuan's trial would not be under the Sacred City's jurisdiction.

"As expected of Maxwell." Lancelot smiled wryly. "This was the only solution that the national lawyers could think of after countless conferences and yet you thought of it by yourself."

"So what of it?" Maxwell glanced at him. "You're not willing to give up your status and power? Your position in the Privy Council is for life, don't worry."

"No, I support this idea more than anyone else." Lancelot shook his head. "But Maxwell, you don't understand him. You do not understand this child well enough… You do not know what the Lancelot family did back then…"

Hanging his head, he murmured, "Back then, when he needed help the most, the family betrayed him. Ye Lanzhou died because of it. His mother was exiled and died in a border village… After that, I saw that he had returned by himself. He did not look like a child anymore.

"Maxwell, you don't know how happy I was when I realized that he was still alive. His eyes are so similar to his mother's. He can just gaze at you and you will feel fear. He is my sister's child. I wish I can give him my everything to make up for the tiniest bit of damage. But sadly…" He bent over, coughing violently. Dark blood streamed from his mouth and nose. After a long time, he recovered though his expression was still dark.

"Maxwell, give up on this idea. He'll never forgive us." Lancelot shook his head slowly. "He would rather die than have anything to do with this family."

Maxwell glared at him. "Yes, your father's sins are still causing trouble today. It is all because of him!"

Lancelot fell silent.

The suffocating silence continued until the sun set. It was broken by knocks on the door. The knocking was neither slow nor fast. They could sense that whoever it was, he was not the embassy! The two exchanged glances.

Lancelot reached for the ornamental sword on the wall. Coldness flashed past his eyes. Maxwell rose and opened the door.

"Excuse me, is it Mr. Maxwell?" There seemed to be a man outside the door. He was covered entirely in a hooded cloak with his face covered by a special veil. Only his graying hair was revealed. "My apologies for coming without an invitation. I just felt it was necessary to meet with you." He removed the veil, revealing his face. At that moment, Maxwell and Lancelot almost forgot to breathe.

"It's you…"

-

In a certain cell of the Judgement Tower, a guy who had been sleeping and eating for two days straight was now sleeping. He had gained three kilograms. His originally handsome face was now bloated. When he woke up, he opened his eyes and glanced outside at the sunset. He yawned, rolled over, and continued sleeping. In his dream, he seemed to be feasting on something. This type of life was not bad but…it felt so sad to be forgotten!