As night falls in Boinbru, the awe-inspiring cold wind wanders aimlessly through the streets. Brochette wrapped his robes tightly and held his torch as he walked towards the Duke of Aldemar's castle. He rummaged through the boxes for a while before leaving, looking for the piece of the Iron Order that the old Duke of Aldermar had left him, and then remembered that it had been used by the Misty Mountains army to take Ranmarok of his command.

It would have been nice to have given one more piece in the first place...... Brochette sighed to himself. He didn't see the guards on duty in front of the castle gates, but there was a noisy commotion from the soldiers' booth not far away, and when Brochette passed by, the strong smell of wine and meat was wafting inside, and several drunks in plain cloth armor were leaning against the door and babbling nonsense. Brochette frowned, he knew that this was the Duke of Alaric's style, and he would not treat the soldiers badly while entertaining the nobles. But then there was no need for him to show the invitation.

Despite his mental preparations, when Brochette actually stepped into the castle hall, the sight in front of him still had a strong impact on him. The banquet seems to have just come to an end, and the musicians from Shendefu are playing a soothing Barcos nocturne. Clay pots of wine are stacked horizontally, and the red wine soaks through the plain tablecloth. Large, small patches of color spread like twilight. The long table across the hall was a mess of cold scraps. The chairs were staggering, and so were the young nobles beside the chairs, some of whom were laughing with the maids, and pulling her into dark corners with the strength of wine; Some of them were already drunk, but they were still clinging to the crockpot, half of their heads buried in it, so that the snoring was particularly dull. Brochette's gaze swept over one by one, and he found that they were all noble cadets studying at the academy and officers of the Black Spear Knights, as well as some more familiar faces, all of whom were more eager scholars in the academy.

But the Duke of Alaric, the host of the banquet, and the Duke of Aldemar, the owner of the castle, and the lords of the North, whose territory was too far from Poimbru, were not among the debauchers. Brochette probably knew where they would be. He left the hall and found the elevator with ease—the guards in charge of the control didn't know where to go. But Brochette was involved in the design of the lift, and it was he who strongly advocated the installation of an additional control unit on the platform. It wasn't the fulfillment of Brochette's prescient ideal, but it did not require a long, narrow staircase.

Brochette reached the top floor of the castle and walked through the dimly lit corridors. He hadn't actually visited the Duke of Aldemar's castle much, but the blueprint of the building had been in the old man's mind for a long time, and he knew that his destination was a few corner conference rooms.

The last one. Brochette took a step, and at the end of the passage was a door that almost blended into the brick wall. On the stairs in front of the door sat a burly man with a bushy beard. The man did not notice Brochette's arrival, he was intently holding a crockpot, reaching into it, and then pulling it out and licking it happily. The golden, viscous liquid hung in silk from the man's beard.

This kid really likes Boynbru's specialty honey. Brochette walked over, not hiding his footsteps. "Good evening, Douglas, is the honey delicious?"

"Delicious!" Douglas smiled innocently, and then frowned, "But it's almost gone." ”

"Really?" "The Duke of Alaric has sent in more honey and piled it up in the hall below. ”

"Really?" Douglas smashed his fingers and looked at Brochette expectantly, "It's all mine?" ”

"If it's late, there shouldn't be any left, and the rest of the people like to eat Boynebru's specialty honey. But if you go now," Brochette smiled slightly, "it's all yours." ”

Douglas responded to Brochette with action: he rose to his feet with a swift suffrage, his head almost hitting the low ceiling, and then he got up and ran wildly out, straight into the staircase. It's so foolish. Brochette shrugged his shoulders and walked to the door, fiddling with the mechanism on the handle a few times, pulling it away with all his might.

The door opened, and the people inside all looked at the door, all with stunned expressions. Brochette glanced around and saw that all the lords invited by the invitation were present, including the two dukes of Alaric and Aldemar, of course.

"Good evening, gentlemen." Brochette walked into the room, slammed the door shut, and smiled politely at the lords at the round table.

"Dean, why are you here?" Duke Aldemar replied with an unnatural question.

"I received an invitation, so I came, but I had to deal with the affairs of the academy, so it was delayed for a while." Brochette looked around, "I hope I'm not late, it looks like you're here to open a small stove?" But it's so high that wouldn't it be a waste of time for the attendants to climb the stairs? The banquet below is almost over, and not a single dish has been served here. ”

"What about Douglas?" Duke Alaric asked suddenly.

"Douglas is an innocent child, easily deceived, so he is not suitable to be a sentinel, or is it better to kill as simple and crude as a job to be compatible with him." Brochette replied as he examined the face with delicate features, barely revealing a trace of northern blood. The Duke of Alaric turned his head stiffly, avoiding direct eye contact with Brochette. Brochette smiled tolerantly, and began to slowly scan each of the lords present, without exception, all avoiding the old man's gentle but deep gaze.

"When did you first become aware of this?" Or did the Duke of Alaric break the deadlock and ask again.

"Don't underestimate the intelligence network of the Black Spear Knights. Midia and Gal Bod are making small moves in Boynbru, do you really think I'm blind? Also, remember to remind Midia in the future that intelligence work is a public matter, and buying honey is a private matter. Otherwise, you shouldn't have been exposed so quickly. ”

Duke Alaric was silent for a long time before he spoke: "Dean, it is necessary for me to remind you that the Royal Academy has made an oath at the beginning of its establishment that it will always remain neutral and not participate in the political struggle in Livingston. ”

"That's exactly what I did, and after the first battle of the dragon and lion I watched from the sidelines and let the siblings settle their family affairs. But you haven't made a similar oath - Laban and Dragu didn't join the North at the time, so they don't count—and the rest of you will choose to sit idly by until the dust settles. Crino, Grimour," Brochette looked at the two dukes, "and you two too." I thought you guys had tacitly settled on the end result. If you only think of giving your voice to the exiled princess now, it is not a 'political struggle' that can cover up the past. ”

"And what is your position?" Duke Alaric said.

"It's simple." Brochette said flatly, "Tell me the other conspirators, and go back to the hall for the feast, and I'll treat it as if nothing happened tonight." ”

"Old fellow," Marquis Otto slammed the round table and stood up. He had never studied at the Wang Academy, so his tone and title were not very polite, "Swaggering in, you think you can walk?" Laban, Dragu, take him down! ”

The two young Zhuang lords who had been promoted by their military exploits got up and walked towards Brochette. But it was Brochette who made the first move, first subduing the nearest Baron Laban with a sharp grappling, and then stepping in front of him with an arrow before Viscount Dragu could react, grabbing him in the mind and slamming him to the round table. He deliberately controlled the force, so Viscount Dragu only lost consciousness instead of his skull shattering. Then the other lords stood up in shock, and involuntarily kept a certain distance from Brochette.

"That's your answer?" Brochette threw the unconscious Viscount Dragu to his feet, gently moving his wrist. He reckoned that Douglas should have realized that he had been deceived and was about to rush back to ask for his guilt. He might be able to take out all the lords present on his own, but before that he can do so, he'll have to face the angry Iron Bear first.

"You can't stop it, Dean Brochette." "I have been planning for many years," said the Duke of Alarric, "and this is not something that you alone or a few letters can stop. ”

"So it's true that you intercepted my letters." Brochet nodded, "Great, that's great." Grimmore, you don't just inherit your mother's eyebrows from your mother, but also her romantic and infatuated Barcos blood. You don't care what happens in the North, I can understand that. But—" the old man finally roared angrily, "the rest of you! Others who grew up in the North! Is it so inconsiderate to give birth to the land that gave birth to oneself? Must let the poisonous flames of the civil war spread across the snowy fields? Must let your ambition trample on the lives of innocents? ”