A corner of the Ballroom of the Eritusa Palace

"How did he answer you?" Mary Valerdi asked to the man in front of him.

It was midnight now.

Moerfan looked at the already deserted hall in front of him. Most of the guests had returned to their rooms to rest. Only a few men and women sat around the window, flirting with each other with alcohol, and occasionally slutty laughter came from time to time.

He said slowly: "He is willing to remain neutral, at least that's what he said."

Mary smiled and said, "It seems that Margarita didn't lie to you. He really bets on both sides. Now that we have ruled out this unexpected factor, the next plan is absolutely foolproof."

Morfan did not respond. He picked up a grape from the plate and threw it on the ground in disgust.

"These guys eat all the food!"

"I'll ask the kitchen to prepare some food for you later." Mary pushed open the plate, as if she could see the man was worried: "It sounds quite smooth, what's wrong with you?"

Morfan did not answer, but asked back: "How is Romert there? Did the mind reading technique obtain any information?"

"Crazy."

"Crazy?"

"Yes, the moment he used mind reading on that person, he went crazy."

The Duke was stunned: "Where is he? I'll ask him."

"Romert is lying in the dormitory area on the third floor, but it's useless to go..." Mary seemed to be still feeling scared: "He was completely stupid, and now he is constantly mourning something...the flesh and blood demon or something."

"What?"

Mary spread her hands.

Moerfan rubbed his eyebrows and fell into silence.

Before, he suspected that this so-called mage was simply a liar.

But now there is increasing evidence that he is really not, at least not an ordinary warlock.

Everything that happened in front of the city gate yesterday had already reached his ears.

Margarita had told him everything that happened in Yinlu Hotel last night.

Philiba also warned him not to provoke the young man with black hair easily before he could figure out the other party's strength.

Now another crazy one.

"What the hell did he say about that baby daughter of Enhill?" Mary asked.

Moerfan shook his head and crushed the grapes on the ground with one foot.

The conversation was smooth, but he really couldn't figure it out, just after he made the second request...

Everything suddenly took a sharp turn.

———————————————

"Cirilla Enris is going to hand it over to me," Moerfan said with a smile.

Zach fell into confusion for a moment.

But considering that the other party might just say the wrong thing, he chose a more gentle statement:

"That depends on Cili's own wishes."

Moerfan raised his eyebrows and looked at the oil painting again:

"Stuart probably doesn't know the end of this story yet." He rubbed his blue-black chin: "Pure white Farrard ruled Temolia for twenty years, but his greed for power finally swallowed him. He reached his hand to his neighbor, got involved in political disputes that he could not control, and finally paid the price of his life..."

Moerfan seemed to be satisfied with the surprised expression of the black-haired mage, and he said with a smile:

"So...Mr. Stuart, you probably didn't understand, it was not a request."

Zach was completely dumbfounded.

He could not believe that this young man was actually threatening himself.

In an instant, many thoughts popped up in his mind:

Has he been misled by his intelligence agencies so that he miscalculated the situation.

Maybe I should talk to his father, Prince Furis behind him, rather than the newly-adult child in front of me.

After all, although Moerfan is very anxious, he is actually less than 20 years old.

Maybe he should sit down and have a long talk with the young man, teach him earnestly, show him a few magics, and let him consider it again.

But in the end he sighed lightly,

He realized that his patience had been completely exhausted.

"Molfan." The black-haired mage spoke slowly: "Our conversation can end here..."

This sentence made the Duke frown.

Zach turned around, his face blank: "The story is wonderful. I heard a wise man from another world tell a story. I'll send it back to you."

"Mr. Stuart, please speak." Morfan raised his hands and followed Zach back to the oil painting on the wall.

"Three powerful men sat in the room to negotiate..."

Zach pointed to the man in the painting who was giving his crown:

"A king..."

The mage's fingers moved to a majestic person:

"A bishop..."

A luxuriously dressed man pointed at the painting with his finger:

"A businessman who is rich enough to rival a country..."

"There is a mercenary in the room. Unfortunately, the negotiations broke down. The king, bishop and wealthy merchant ordered the soldiers to kill the other two."

"In the name of the supreme law."

"In the name of a kind and omnipotent god."

"In the name of inexhaustible wealth."

"Then..." The mage looked at Morfan: "May I ask the Duke..."

The sudden honorifics made Morfan's back chill.

"Who can survive?"

"Who will die again?"

Moerfan swallowed and replied with a smile: "The question is very simple. Of course, the life and death of the three of them only depends on the mercenary's thoughts."

"Why is this so? Mercenaries have neither crowns nor wealth nor favors of the Holy Spirit."

"Of course because of the sword in his hand."

Zach asked coldly: "Since the sword-holder can determine the life and death of everyone, why do we believe in the king, the bishop and the wealthy businessman hold great power?"

This question left Moerfan stunned.

Before he could react, the brunette continued:

"Farard is not a nobleman but can be crowned king, and has no blood but can rule a country just because his power over the royal power."

The smile on Moerfan's face gradually disappeared:

"What does Mr. Stuart mean?"

Zach did not answer, but turned out the window, and Morfan followed his gaze.

At this time, the dinner was coming to an end, and many of the shadows of the guests had dispersed on the white walls of Azaturi Palace.

On the distant sea, a fishing boat slowly rowed across the water, and the originally complete moon shadow suddenly turned into pieces of gold foil.

"The wise man's proverb is my advice to the Duke."

"Power is by no means power..."

"It's just a trick to fool people..."

"Like a floating shadow on the wall..."

"Like the moon in the water..."

"Your power is only in the hearts of the people. If you believe, you have it; if you don't believe, you don't..."

"Law, faith, wealth, never kill."

Zach pointed to the "white" Farrard in the center of the picture: "It can kill the mage..."

With his fingertips moving towards the corner of the oil painting, a tall and thin man stood among the crowded crowd. He was wearing a gray robe and his gloomy face was hidden under his hood, which seemed out of place in the whole celebration scene.

"There is only another mage."

Morfan stood there, his smile frozen on his face, and the man in front of him knew the story of Farrard and his ending from the beginning.

Farrard did not die at the hands of mortals, he died in a spell battle.

The Warlock Brotherhood simply erased him because he was disobedient.

The black-haired mage turned and left, his voice echoed in the empty corridor.

The voice has no emotion, and even no impatience at the beginning.

Only absolute indifference is left:
Chapter completed!