Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence Chapter 766 - 426: Turmoil Rising (Part 3)

Silence descended once more upon the secret chamber. The soft crackle of the candle flame was the only sound, as the potent aroma of dragon musk became almost overwhelming, thick enough to suffocate.

Lampard’s mind was in overdrive, his thoughts dissecting the possibilities.

Should he eliminate Duke Calvin, or preserve him?

The sheer thrill and shock of the former would be fleeting, while the latter action would sustain the precarious stability within the Southeast Province.

The Empire was already fractured, teetering on the brink.

He possessed the formidable backing of the Church Court, yet substantial Gold Coins remained elusive.

The treasury was utterly depleted, and even the knights’ salaries were falling into arrears, with the following month’s payments hanging precariously in the balance.

The Calvin Clan was far more than just a financial resource; they were the vital thread that kept the old nobility of the Southeast aligned with his cause.

Lampard was acutely aware of this intricate connection.

His strategic thinking continued to unfold—if he were to strike down the Duke now...

Louis, situated in the Northern Territory, would undoubtedly shed any pretense of restraint, completely tearing away the facade of civility.

Simultaneously, in the Imperial Capital, the Second Prince would seize the ensuing chaos, advancing eastward without the slightest hesitation.

And should Eduardo, in the Holy City, actually ascend to that coveted white throne...

As the architect of his father’s demise, he would find himself with no viable escape route.

Such a future was an unescapable path leading to certain destruction.

Lampard released a slow breath, finally confronting a stark and brutal reality.

He was, in truth, utterly unqualified to instigate a drastic upheaval.

The ostensibly magnificent Holy Eastern Empire was, in reality, a hollow construct, tenuously held together by merely three indispensable pillars...

The Royal Family’s lineage, the Church Court’s recognized authority, and the influential Calvin Clan.

The collapse of any single one of these would bring the entire structure down overnight.

When his gaze lifted once more, the murderous intent in his eyes had entirely dissipated, replaced by an overwhelming weariness.

"Duke," Lampard’s voice dropped to a lower register, "do you comprehend the reason I have permitted that particular bishop to maintain such a pervasive presence within my palace all this time?"

Without affording the Duke an opportunity to respond, he continued his own discourse: "It is because I am lacking something essential."

He rose from his seat and approached Duke Calvin.

This time, there was no trace of menace, only a calculated and submissive posture.

"If the future you have painted proves to be accurate."

"If Eduardo does indeed reach that exalted white throne." Lampard’s gaze met the Duke’s directly, his tone imbued with an uncharacteristic sincerity, "You will offer me your assistance, will you not?"

Duke Calvin inclined his head in assent: "Naturally."

Lampard remained silent for a beat, then raised his hand, gesturing towards the heavily secured door of the secret chamber.

"But for the present moment, how do we navigate this perilous situation?" His voice was barely a whisper. "Bishop Salomon, lurking outside, is intent on initiating a holy war against Louis. Should I refuse his demand, he will undoubtedly question my devotion.

Conversely, if I agree, it signifies dispatching our forces to the Northern Icefield without any justifiable cause, only to engage in conflict with your son, the designated protector of the Empire, and provide the Second Prince with ample reason for derision from the Imperial Capital."

Duke Calvin offered no immediate reply.

He simply emitted a soft sigh, as if burdened by a predicament he had long anticipated.

Then, he looked up, his demeanor regaining its composure and serenity.

"Your Majesty, in moments such as these, there is no necessity for you to adopt a stance of forceful opposition. To do so would merely expose your vulnerability," the Duke stated calmly. "Our strategy should be to stall for time, subsequently presenting him with an offer of substantial value, a blank check, so to speak."

Lampard’s eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly.

The Duke elaborated: "To Bishop Salomon... you may extend a solemn promise. Upon the successful unification of the Holy Eastern Empire, three flourishing counties shall be designated as ecclesiastical territories for the Church Court, to be administered under his perpetual authority."

This was not a matter of spiritual conviction, but rather a negotiation based on tangible, worldly gain—sufficient incentive to instill patience in any bishop.

Lampard did not voice an immediate objection.

He possessed a profound understanding of the bishop’s true motivations and priorities.

The Duke’s counsel continued uninterrupted: "Regarding Louis, that troublesome offspring, we need not regard him as a direct adversary, but rather as an unavoidable complication that must be accommodated."

As these words were spoken, the candle flame swayed gently.

"Your Majesty." The Duke leaned forward slightly, his voice lowered conspiratorially, "We shall inform the bishop that Louis serves as a bulwark against the encroaching heretics.

He acts as a deterrent against the Second Prince, a barrier against the Barbarian Hordes, and a defense against all external threats that genuinely imperil the sacred order. Allowing him to expend his strength, rather than our own, aligns far more closely with divine providence.

We shall not only refrain from launching a crusade against him but shall also grant him an opportunity for absolution, bestowing upon him the title of Guardian of the Northern Territory, thereby compelling him to perish in our stead."

A heavy silence returned to the chamber, and Lampard’s breathing gradually normalized.

He had now grasped the entirety of the intricate plan.

It was a perfectly constructed, self-contained strategy.

Leverage the bishop’s avarice to secure valuable time, and utilize Louis’s aggressive nature to attrition the forces of the Second Prince.

All the while, they would retreat to consolidate their power and wholeheartedly champion Eduardo’s cause.

Lampard gave a slow nod, and a flicker of genuine leadership finally illuminated his eyes.

"Excellent. We shall proceed according to your counsel. I shall issue a decree, ostensibly to reprimand Louis for his insubordination. However, for your esteemed sake, I shall permit him the chance to achieve atonement through acts of valorous service."With the conclusion of their discussion, the last of the dragon musk incense within the room had turned to ash. Duke Calvin was making preparations to depart. "Wait." Lampard’s call echoed from behind him. The Duke halted his movements, though he did not turn. He was well aware that the most crucial statements frequently arrived in that final moment. Lampard neither reprimanded him nor adopted any imposing stance. Instead, he personally stepped forward, reaching out to straighten the Duke’s slightly askew bow tie. The action was performed with a deliberate calm, eerily akin to a father adjusting his son’s attire. In the context of familial bonds, such an act signifies closeness; between a ruler and his subordinate, it represents a powerful connection. Lampard’s knuckles grazed the old man’s neck, the sensation of his thin, weathered skin palpable. Observing the streaks of white in Calvin’s hair, Lampard’s voice deepened, imbued with an undeniable weight.