The Necromancer's Servant

Asa walked towards the Duke's mansion with the appointment document that Bishop Ronis had just given him tucked under his arm.

Although he was still wearing the dirty robe that Sandru had given him, he was now personally authorized by the Bishop as an inspector.

Of course, this wasn't a true official position; the imperial official system didn't include this role. To put it bluntly, he could only be considered a cleric sent by the Bishop to inspect various locations on behalf of the church.

But to put it more figuratively, he was the Bishop's special envoy, with the authority to oversee all church affairs in the places he visited. Bishop Ronis probably never intended for him to actually command any church matters and it was clear he had no interest in doing so; he only hoped that the deterrent effect of this title would provide Asa with more convenience during his actions in the field.

What benefits did such a position bring? Asa pondered. He had never thought about wanting to command anyone or to hold any position of power. He had never imagined he would embark on a bureaucratic path and gain authority. This wasn't due to a lack of ambition but more like how cattle and sheep regard a dog gnawing on a bone; he simply had no interest. No matter how much others coveted it, it was truly worthless in his eyes. When Bishop Ronis said he wanted to bestow this title upon him, Asa had wanted to say that he didn't believe in any god and didn't want to be a cleric, but he ultimately didn't dare voice it.

But now that he held such power, he had to consider the pros and cons it brought. Even if it was just a clerical position within the church, it would likely still wield significant influence in practice.

He thought he wouldn't have to worry about food anymore; if he arrived at a local town, he could eat at the church without having to starve in an inn like in Airi. After thinking for a long time, Asa could only conclude that this title wasn't entirely worthless.

Now he needed to go to the Duke's mansion to find out the whereabouts of Christine and then set off immediately. He didn't know how far that troublesome woman had run; if it was too far, that would be problematic since he had no place to borrow travel expenses anymore. He had forgotten to mention his financial difficulties to Bishop Ronis; it was unreasonable to ask for money now. Thinking of the trusting look in the Bishop's eyes and his attitude, Asa immediately felt that even if he had to crawl, he would go to Christine to retrieve the book.

Should he borrow from the Duke? How could he broach the subject? He had nothing left to offer as collateral… Lost in thought, Asa returned to the Duke's mansion.

The Duke's mansion, even its servants, exuded a deep temperament akin to the Duke himself, who remained calm and composed regardless of the situation. Although Asa had just been seen leaving with the Bishop's carriage, the significance of that treatment didn't intimidate them; they still made him wait at the door.

The Duke came out to greet him personally. Of course, his face still wore a pure smile; no one, no matter how observant, would sense any hint of insincerity.

Asa didn't rush to inquire about Christine right away. The Bishop had said this matter had to be handled very naturally, without revealing any traces. He couldn't just ask directly; he had to bring it up casually in conversation, pretending to suddenly remember that he had something taken by Christine, which was something he needed to retrieve urgently… He was mentally rehearsing his unpracticed acting skills.

"Elaine should be feeling better, right?" Asa opened with this topic.

"She's still not awake, but her complexion has improved a lot. It seems like she's just in a normal sleep now. I think it's best to let her rest; she'll wake up when it's time. Do you want to go see her?"

"No, it's fine. Let her rest well."

After a moment of silence, Asa realized he was struggling to find the right words to respond. He felt a bit anxious.

The Duke was now certain that Asa didn't possess any mysterious background.

As a master in the world of bureaucracy and a social expert, the Duke could discern the manner, temperament, and every subtle movement of everyone he spoke to, understanding the meaning behind them, the person's living environment, education, mood, and even abilities and character, just like an old butcher could identify the vital spots of a slaughtered animal. This was the unique insight of a master who had refined his skills into an art form.

This young man's behavior and demeanor were indeed as he had judged two months ago—unrefined, having not experienced the nuances of power and rules. The Bishop's relationship with him seemed to be purely personal. This was better; relationships based on personal feelings were more reliable than those based on interests, which would fluctuate with changing benefits. If he couldn't win over Bishop Ronis, then gaining favor with someone the Bishop liked was still a significant achievement. Most importantly, this young man was holding a piece of information that posed a considerable threat to the Duke, and although it had been dealt with two months ago, if he could bring him to his side, it would be perfect.

"Young man, would you mind joining me in the study for a chat?" The Duke's conversational techniques were his unique art; he expressed no urgency to reveal his true intentions, making everything seem so natural. He had just sent Clovis away from the Duke's mansion; it was only convenient to bond when they were alone.

"Sure." Asa nodded eagerly.

They arrived at the Duke's study. Asa was taken aback by the shelves and books that filled the room, and he felt a sense of admiration for the Duke. Those who didn't read much often held a peculiar respect for those who did.

"I truly don't know how to express my gratitude to you," the Duke said, grasping Asa's hand, his tone and expression perfectly aligned. "You've saved my daughter time and again; this kindness I must repay no matter what."

Asa felt embarrassed instead. He shook his head, stammering, "This is what I should do... No, it's not a big deal... Elaine is just my friend…"

"Speak freely; I will do my utmost to help you with anything within my power," the Duke sincerely expressed his gratitude. "If you are interested in pursuing a career, I will fully support you. With your talents, you could easily rise to greatness. Although I know this method of thanks is rather clichéd, I can't think of any other way."

"No need; I'm not interested in such things."

This was a completely expected response. The Duke had known this young man's character long ago. He feigned a sigh and said, "Young man, you probably haven't truly lived in this world yet. In a world constructed by relationships and systems, power is the most useful and indispensable thing."

"Perhaps you're still too young, full of vigor and wanting to carve your own path, ignoring worldly fame and fortune. Just like I was in my youth." The Duke patted Asa's shoulder with a sense of nostalgia, letting out a sincere laugh. "I really like your character." To have others regard you as a friend, you must first treat them as friends.

The Duke seemed to engage Asa in conversation out of genuine interest. His words showed no trace of forced friendship while conveying warmth and charm perfectly. His expressions, tone, and content of speech blended into a subtle atmosphere, fully conveying what the Duke wanted others to feel. Speaking with such a person was a pleasant experience for anyone.

This was merely a prelude. Once a favorable impression was established, he could gradually deepen the conversation, uncovering the other person's character, preferences, and even secrets, creating an opportunity to build a deeper emotional connection. Everything had to proceed naturally; if others perceived your ulterior motives, it would only backfire. This was a highly nuanced skill but also one of the Duke's specialties.

However, Asa wasn't particularly aware of the Duke's brilliant performance; he was focused on how to bring up Christine with the Duke.

The Duke was just about to delve further into the topic when the sound of hurried footsteps suddenly interrupted his thoughts. A servant rushed into the study.

The Duke was well aware of the quality of his household staff; he had already ordered them not to approach the study, and for this servant to come in so hurriedly could only mean something significant had occurred. He frowned and asked, "What happened?"

The servant tried to lean closer to whisper in the Duke's ear, but the Duke waved his hand, saying, "Just say it." In this situation, he naturally didn't want Asa to feel excluded.

"Just received news from a swift horse that Miss Christine's caravan was ambushed at the western border, and she has been taken hostage for ransom."

The Duke's expression shifted slightly, both shocked and delighted.

Anyone would be startled to hear their daughter had been kidnapped. However, he quickly noticed that Asa's face changed even more dramatically, almost in shock. His heart leapt with joy.

The bandits were just opportunistic cowards; they wouldn't dare recklessly harm a duke's daughter. The evident panic on Asa's face was even more valuable.

His shock showed he cared, and that care indicated there was leverage to work with.

This was indeed timely news.

At this moment, Claudius was at his uncle, the prime minister's residence.

He usually hated coming here. Although the head of the Ernie family had always been his father, ever since the new emperor ascended the throne two years ago and appointed his uncle as prime minister, rumors had circulated within the family about re-electing a new head.

Just now, after the duke hurriedly returned from outside on horseback, he said Claudius should temporarily avoid the situation.

He understood what the duke meant. He had seen Asa being picked up by the bishop's carriage, and the duke could also see that he disliked Asa, so he asked him to leave to avoid causing trouble.

He was well aware that this was a necessary social maneuver, and he should indeed step away, but he was still very angry. This indicated that, in the duke's eyes, he was not as important as that person in certain respects. His dislike for Asa had now escalated into hostility.

He walked into a room and immediately noticed the large bed in the middle. Its prominent position seemed to suggest that it was meant to ensure everyone knew this room was for sleeping.

The bed was big enough for ten people, and the high-quality fabric used for the bedding could only be afforded after a hundred ordinary people worked for a year. It was stuffed with cotton and goose down, making it undoubtedly very comfortable to sleep on.

Claudius would never sleep on such a bed. He believed that if a person rested too comfortably, their fighting spirit would wane and their mental state would become lax. Spending energy on such indulgences was undoubtedly a symbol of being wasteful.

However, even wastefulness could still serve a considerable purpose if utilized properly.

The waste on the bed lay completely naked among a few scantily clad women. Upon seeing Claudius enter, he appeared somewhat surprised. "What a rare guest; I haven't seen you in a long time." He had a metal brace on his face because his bones had been broken two months ago, and it hadn't fully healed yet.

He pinched one of the nearby women and pointed at Claudius. "This is the most promising and capable busybody among our younger generation, always tied up with national affairs and serious matters. Which of you can get him into bed and then come back to tell me what he's like up there? I'll reward you handsomely." Then he looked at Claudius and winked playfully. "Do you want to give it a try? These girls are pretty good."

"Wow, really? He's so handsome!" The women looked at Claudius like he was a ripe apple, giggling flirtatiously.

Claudius didn't even spare a glance in their direction; to him, those bodies were as dull as pork on a cutting board. He coldly stared at the face beneath the metal brace and said, "I'm here to tell you something. The guy who injured you last time is back."

The waste immediately sat up from the pillow and flesh, roaring, "Really? I've been looking for him everywhere. Get me some people." He paused for a moment, then suddenly seemed to calm down, gazing at Claudius with suspicion. "Why are you telling me this? You were the one who informed me last time. You're not planning to deal with him yourself, are you?"

It seemed at least his mind hadn't completely gone to waste, as he could still think things through. Claudius's expression remained indifferent; he continued to say coldly, "I'm here to tell you that you'd better not look for trouble when you see him. You probably won't be able to touch him; he has connections with the bishop. I don't want to see our family having any unpleasantness with the bishop, so I came to remind you."

The face beneath the metal brace suddenly twitched, transforming into a hostile expression, glaring at Claudius like an enraged dog as it growled, "I don't need you to teach me what to do. And I warn you, don't meddle in my affairs." He got off the bed, and a few women hurried to help him get dressed and braid his hair. That was his favorite hairstyle, which he took pride in; he once had someone who dared to wear a similar style's scalp removed.

Claudius stood by, still expressionless, watching him. The waste shot Claudius a fierce glare and provocatively said, "If you're unhappy, tell your dad to try being prime minister."

Claudius remained impassive. He suddenly turned and walked out of the room, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the vast, deep corridor.

Once he confirmed no one was watching, a faint smile of satisfaction crept onto his lips. He hadn't smiled in a long time.