In the First Prince's mansion, Virgil pushed open the door to his office. The lingering glow of dusk filtered through the window, painting the entire room in a soft amber hue.
In his arms, he held a stack of approved water conservancy documents, while a roll of the latest damage reports from the Quartermaster Department was tucked under his elbow.
Taking a long stride, he stepped over the unsorted files on the floor and made his way toward his desk.
After piling the documents in his arms onto the corner of the desk, Virgil let out a sigh of relief. He was about to set down the reports in his hand when something caught the corner of his eye.
In the shadows on the north side of the room, right in the corner between a bookshelf and the wall, a figure stood silently.
Virgil's body froze instantly. His movements locked mid-air, and his throat bobbed involuntarily as he felt the hairs all over his body stand on end.
Assassinations among nobles were by no means rare. Although the First Prince's mansion was heavily guarded, it was not completely airtight. It was still possible for individuals with extraordinary skills to slip inside.
But who exactly wanted to harm him, and what clues should he leave behind?
In an instant, a flurry of thoughts raced through Virgil's mind.
However, the person in the shadows seemed to sense his tension and chose not to remain hidden in the dark.
The figure took a step forward. Illuminated by the light in the room, he was revealed to be wearing a deep purple robe, with a silver, four-pointed star emblem gleaming at his collar.
“Lord Olen Olius.”
Virgil secretly breathed a sigh of relief. He recognized this man, having met him a few times during his visits to the Magical Council, which allowed him to relax slightly. After all, he could not bring himself to believe that the other party had come to assassinate him.
“For an esteemed guest like you, why choose such a time and manner to visit?”
Standing at the boundary between light and shadow, Olen's features appeared somewhat indistinct. “Virgil Seraphius. I have heard much about you.”
“It is my honor to receive a personal visit from the Fourth Seat.”
Virgil walked around his desk and pulled out his chair to sit down. Interlocking his fingers on the desk, he tried his best to appear composed. “However, I imagine someone of your status wouldn't come all this way just to tour my office.”
His words were spot on, so Olen had no intention of beating around the bush either, stating directly, “I paid a visit to the Golden Sea a few days ago.”
The moment the words “Golden Sea” were uttered, Virgil's brow twitched almost imperceptibly.
Not long ago, he had instructed Olaid to find Sern to investigate the Golden Sea. While the methods used were somewhat unseemly, it shouldn't have been enough to bring the Fourth Seat of the Magical Council to his doorstep.
Virgil maintained a calm smile on his face as much as possible, feigning confusion. “The Golden Sea? That place can hardly be called a pleasant destination. With how busy you must be, why would you travel there?”
“Official business.”
Olen's reply was extremely brief, leaving Virgil unable to glean any information. Then, Olen continued, “I heard the First Prince has been in the south for some time now. How are things progressing?”
Virgil narrowed his eyes, unable to fathom Olen's intentions. For someone of his standing as the Fourth Seat to appear here and ask such a question, it could not possibly be mere small talk. Thus, Virgil replied in a casual tone, “His Highness has received a warm welcome in the south. The local nobles have been highly cooperative regarding his visit, and things are progressing very smoothly.”
Upon hearing this, Olen let out a soft snort, though it was unclear whether it was directed at Virgil's words or out of disdain for the southern nobility. “The southern nobles?”
“Most of them support the Second Prince. You know this better than I do.”
“His Highness's trip to the south isn't for those nobles, but rather for... those fellows further down south.”
Virgil's hands tightened slightly. This was not the kind of information the Fourth Seat should have access to.
However, Olen did not dwell on the subject. Instead, he turned his head to look out the window and said in a low voice, “Lord Virgil, focusing your attention on the south right now is indeed fine. But if you have any energy to spare, you might want to cast your eyes toward the west as well.”
With the west being mentioned yet again, Virgil rapidly pondered the meaning behind Olen's words.
Speaking of which, Sern Lancaster had been in the Golden Sea for quite some time, yet no news had arrived.
That lunatic, even if she failed, would usually make some noise given her personality. Yet there had been nothing, which was a telling sign in itself.
“The Princess is stationed in the west.”
Virgil spoke, seemingly unaware of the underlying meaning in Olen's words, and simply replied, “Besides, that land is barren to begin with. There shouldn't be anything worthy of attention there.”
Hearing this, Olen turned around and fixed his eyes intently on Virgil. “In the past, I might have agreed with you.”
“But... things are different now.”
Virgil leaned back against his chair, his hands now hidden beneath the desk, his thumbs rubbing against each other. After a long pause, he asked cautiously, “What exactly did Her Highness do over there to warrant such an evaluation from the Fourth Seat?”
Olen slowly shook his head. “It wasn't the Princess.”
Virgil was taken aback, immediately thinking of someone. “Not the Princess? Could it be Elon Windrunner?”
“You aren't suggesting that druid did something, are you?”
“No, not him either.”
Olen's response was crisp and direct, shooting down Virgil's final conjecture.
Virgil fell silent. He truly could not think of anyone else by the Princess's side besides Elon.
After all, the people who used to protect and surround her were now avoiding her like the plague.
And Olen did not seem to have any intention of hiding it. His gaze swept over the documents on the desk, and he slowly uttered the name he deemed of utmost importance: “Shane Leynas.”
Virgil knitted his brows. He had absolutely no recollection of this name.
“Currently, he is just an exiled necromancer.”
Olen's words startled Virgil. Then, Olen continued, “It is not convenient for me to disclose the specifics, but you only need to know one thing...”
“This person is extremely important to the Princess.”
Leaning forward slightly, he stared directly into Virgil's eyes, a dangerous glint flashing in his own. “If you feel any pressure from the west in the future, do not just focus on the Princess, and do not bother with that druid. Keep a close eye on that man. He is the key.”
Virgil felt an inexplicable pressure from Olen's words. Even as the name etched itself into his mind, a wave of curiosity washed over him.
Seeing that his words had apparently hit their mark, Olen turned to leave.
Virgil immediately stood up and asked, “Where are you going?”
Olen did not stop. He had already reached the door, but before leaving, he left behind a final remark: “I have other matters to attend to. You only need to tell His Highness when the time comes: Olius of the Fourth Seat was here.”
He pushed open the door, the corner of his deep purple robe flashing briefly through the gap before the door clicked shut once more.
Virgil stared at the closed door and sat back down in his chair. He lightly tapped his fingers on the desk, repeating the name he had just heard:
“Shane Leynas...”
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