Perro Helmon sat at his desk, absentmindedly fiddling with a fine parchment in his hand—the program sheet delivered by the long opera house every weekend afternoon. On any other day, he would have selected his favorite play, asked the butler to pay the deposit, and then sent the invitation to Sheryl.
But he didn't read a single word.
Today marks the seventh day of our journey. If all goes well, Father should have returned with the Duke yesterday. Perhaps the delay on the road, or the exhaustion of both man and horse, caused him to rest an extra day in Border Town. He tried to console himself, but the unease in his heart kept growing.
The Fourth Prince. Roland Wimbledon left such a profound impression on him that Pealo could hardly believe how such an outstanding Prince could have such a terrible reputation in the royal court. Despicable, spoiled, incompetent, and uneducated... Every description was completely different from the Prince he had known.
This is why his unease is so strong.
He was afraid that the Duke would lose to him.
"Young Master Pei Luo," the steward called from outside, "a letter has arrived from the fortress." "From the fortress?" Pei Luo froze. "Bring it in." The moment he opened the envelope, the first words on the letter left him speechless.
This is a letter written by the Fourth Prince!
"Duke Osmund Lane launched a violent assault on my realm, attempting a rebellion that failed. The duke himself was executed on the battlefield, and now the fortress of Changge is under my control." The duke had been defeated? His heart sank, and he continued reading.
"Most of the Duke of Lain's allies have surrendered and confessed, except for a few stubborn ones. The rebellious royal family should be executed, but this king, out of mercy, will only punish the ringleaders and those whose crimes are unforgivable. The rest of the participants may, as per past battle customs, buy off the captives with money. The exchange will take place at Lord Castle, the fortress of Changge. Below is the list." This official document's wording appears awkward and not in the usual diplomatic language, yet its meaning is crystal clear—the duke's rebellion failed, and he now seeks to capture people by offering money.
Perro lowered his gaze slightly, and his father's name was prominently displayed in the first row.
"Heddis!" he shouted the steward's name, "Get the carriage ready—I'm heading to the castle!"
The Earl of Honeysuckle's domain lay east of the fortress. When Pei Luo reached the Castle district, half an hour had already passed. Lord Castle's front stood packed with a 'militia' he had never seen before—no gleaming armor, no cloaks or ribbons, only peculiarly shaped short sticks topped with sharp bayonets. Yet their orderly formation, standing in two rows with heads held high, exuded an intimidating presence.
After revealing his identity, Pei Luo was escorted into the garden and then led by a guard to the castle's main hall.
He had visited this place many times before, yet today he felt as if he had stepped into an entirely unfamiliar realm. The guards stationed in the passageway wore faces he had never seen, none offering him a nod or a smile, only staring at him blankly. At the hall's entrance, a Knight stepped forward to greet him.
"Your name?" "Pero Helmon," replied Pero with slight irritation, deliberately emphasizing the formal tone of the inquiry. "Sir Helmon." "Oh," the man responded indifferently, flipping through the list in his hand. "Count Sharafy Helmon is your..." "Father." "I'm sorry," Knight said, his expression devoid of any apology. "I am Carter Lannis, the Chief Knight of the Fourth Prince. Please come to the side chamber. We need to check if you're carrying weapons." After the search, the guards removed Pero's God's Stone.
"That is not a weapon," Perro reminded.
"Of course not," Knight nodded. "We'll return it to you after the meeting. Don't worry." He opened his mouth, but finally held back. Return? The God's Punishment Stone was a top-grade gem, worth at least fifty Golden Dragons. It would be impossible for the other party to refuse to exchange it for a lower-grade one. "Fine," he thought, "let's count it as part of the ransom."
Entering the hall, the Fourth Prince was seated at the head of the table, writing something. When he looked up at Perro, he paused momentarily before smiling, "We meet again, Ambassador." The familiar face and tone made Perro relax slightly as he bowed, "Greetings, Your Highness." "Sit down," Roland gestured, "I suppose you know what happened. Your father was unharmed—he was among the first to surrender." "Thank you for your mercy, Your Highness," Perro said hastily. "I don't know how much ransom you require. As long as we can secure the gold and silver, I'll have the money delivered immediately." "I don't need money," Roland waved his hand. "I want livestock and people." "Wanting livestock is normal—even fifty years ago, conflicts between lords ended with the defeated paying cattle and sheep," Perro noted repeatedly in his book. But... what did "people" mean? "Your Highness, we have plenty of cattle, sheep, horses, and gold and silver in the territories. As for the people you mentioned..." "It's simple," Roland said. "I want masons, stonemasons, carpenters, farmers, and serfs." He handed a scroll. "You can convert the amounts on it. Just make sure the total reaches three thousand." He smiled. "By the way, since the Earl holds the highest-ranking captured title, the amount will be the largest." Pero spread the paper roll out on the table.
The list was filled with occupational categories and livestock types, each followed by a number—like 'Cow 3', 'Sheep 2', 'Stonemason 10', and so on. He instantly understood the meaning behind it.
The three-thousand-point value equated to a thousand cattle or three hundred stonemasons to redeem his father. Yet his domain lacked such resources, and merely arranging the paper-based items would yield countless permutations. As a Noble who dealt with trade daily, Perro instantly recognized this presented a golden opportunity. With just a few days, he could devise the optimal solution to meet the three-thousand-point requirement at minimal cost.
"Your Highness, may I..." "I'll give you just one day," Roland extended his finger. "This is merely the time to make your decision. After all, gathering such vast supplies and manpower would take at least three days. And I won't stay here indefinitely—I'll leave in no more than a week." "But one day is... too short..." Perro froze, staring wide-eyed at the Prince. "Wait, you said... you're leaving?" What did that mean? If the letter was accurate, the Duke had already perished in battle, and the Long Song Fortress rightfully belonged to Your Highness. How could he say he'd leave? Was this place less significant than that tiny, crumbling border town? No, that wasn't the point! The real question was: Who would govern this magnificent city if Your Highness departed? Waves of doubt surged through his mind. Would the Duke's children inherit it? That seemed impossible. Would they wait for them to regroup their forces and avenge their father? The five major noble houses besides the Lain family... or some other noble house?
"Exactly," Roland nodded. "I'll take the ransom and head back to Border Town." A thought suddenly struck him, and once it came, it was impossible to suppress.
"Your Highness," Perro swallowed hard, "may I ask... does the 'Redemption' of the Nagano Fortress have a value?"