The night grew and thickened, and the city of Belém, completely asleep, was hidden in the soft darkness, leaving only the faintly recognizable outline of the Dao. Except for one or two whispers from nowhere, from someone else, and the restless chirping of nocturnal animals, you'd be hard-pressed to hear anything else at this time. In this silent night, a series of crisp horses' hooves came from afar, as if still reminding the moon in the sky, she was not the only one at this time, still enjoying the coolness and silence of the world.

Slowly descending along the main road in the city, two horse-drawn carriages with inky bodies slowly moved forward, the wheels embedded with copper nails rolling in the night leaving a touching light and shadow, and on the copper hooks in the front corners of the car, the oil lamps emitting orange fire glowed with the shaking body and emitted a dreamlike soft light.

In the car ahead, Fisburn was lazily sunk into a soft seat, sipping a glass of red wine. This little-known slave smuggler turned his eyes out the window into the darkness and looked at the city that had been in the mix for more than forty years from birth to the present.

Was he familiar with this place? Of course he knew it, from every brick to every roof tile, from every tavern to every brothel, from every gang to every flock of warblers, everything about it was as clear to him as he knew it on his fingers. But does he like the city? No, never...... From wandering the streets at the age of twelve to becoming the biggest slave smuggler today, he found himself hating everything about it more and more.

Just like being in a stinking ditch, the business that never sees the light has made him harvest a lot of black wealth, but he can never enjoy the envy and worship of others in the sun. He was fed up with the stained slaves, the smugglers who kept giving him false flattery......

Wealth...... If you have wealth that no one else can appreciate, then what's the difference between that wealth and scrap metal? Yes, women love vanity. Men are all greedy for power...... The problem is simply that many people are drowned out by life in the deep nature of their souls, they. All it takes is one chance.

And Fisborne, just got that opportunity. His mind had drifted somewhere else. As long as he thought of those who were once untouchable, those big people who stood at the pinnacle of power in the kingdom, he felt as if he had felt the key to the future. As long as you climb those big shots, you can leave here, go somewhere else, go to the capital, and start a truly decent life...... It is even possible to become a nobleman and engrave his surname into the title. And the nobility that has been passed down.

Fisburn's breathing became more and more rapid, and the blood under his skin rushed and burned, as if it had ignited the entire ribcage, and the next moment it was about to burst out. Gulping down the liquid from his glass, Fisburn withdrew his gaze and closed his eyes. The trembling body gradually cooled down, and he knew very well that the most important thing now was to deal with the goods in the carriage behind, and only after that. He can plan slowly, operate slowly......

The terrain slowed down, and the horse-drawn carriage of Fisborne soon drove out of the main town. I came to the unusually spacious port square. His purpose was simple, in order to avoid long nights and dreams, he wanted to send the cargo to the flagship of his fleet as soon as possible, and only there was an absolutely safe place. As for the rest, it's simple, just run away and kick that unlucky guy to a desert island with no one, and you're done.

At midnight, the square in front of the port was silent. No sound could be heard in the air other than the soft sound of the tide crashing against the embankment. A few lonely and shining street lamps are still sticking to their posts. Even the dock guards, who used to patrol the night, didn't know where to run to pass the boring night.

Through the window of the carriage. Fisburne saw his own smuggling ship from afar. He chuckled happily twice, and if he encountered a guard, he would have to spend some tongue and even take out a few gold coins to get through. And now, it seems that even luck is on their side on this wonderful night.

But just then, the sound of horses' hooves erupted from the skewers, and a carriage, equally dark, galloped wildly and crashed into the carriage where Fisburn was.

"Boom!"

Before Fisburn could react, he was swept to the floor by a sudden impact. "What the fuck is going on?!......" he scolded, trying to get up, only to find that the actual situation was far beyond the scope of an ordinary collision. The carriage did not slow down at all, and in a cloud of flying splinters of wood and the wailing of horses, it knocked the Faisburn carriage to the ground.

The next moment, more than a dozen figures wrapped in cloaks rushed out of the darkness, without answering or hesitating, and the silent killing instantly shrouded the two carriages that were forcibly stopped. Looking out the window at the chaotic figures and the flickering cold, Fisbourne smelled mortal danger. There weren't many guards in this operation, and this group of attackers obviously didn't want to leave a single person alive.

Almost instinctively to save his life, Fisburn kicked open the dark window on the roof of the carriage and rushed out in a hurry—the way he had left him in case.

In the night behind him, the sound of weapons clashing and the screams of the guards as they were dying mixed together, shaking Fisborne's scalp. He just wanted to get out of here now, as far away as possible!, but the other party seemed to have noticed him, and with the low sound of a bowstring, a bolt of lightning bolted out of the crossbow bolt directly into his shoulder.

"Ah......" Fishburn let out a pig-killing scream, he had never suffered before. Zha struggled to turn around, his body rubbing against the ground and moving backwards, his face covered in cold sweat from the severe pain, and only a look of horror remained. "Guards, come and save me, Guards, someone, kill someone......," he cried out, his hoarse roar echoing over the square in front of the port, but there was not the slightest response. The guards, as if they had disappeared out of thin air.

In Fisborne's sight, a tall figure holding a crossbow spear slowly walked towards him, heavy iron boots making a cold crunch on the stone bricks. Fisburn felt his blood clot, and his stiff body couldn't move any longer. "Don't, don't kill me!I'm the leader of the 'Black Blood Shackles'! The Black Blood Shackles Slave Fleet, you've heard of it!" he pleaded incoherently, "I've got money, untold gold coins! Leave me alone, and those gold coins will be yours." Please, let me go......"

"Shut up!" the figure in the cloak whispered, interrupting Fisborne's plea. "Are you sure you want to intercede with me?" he said, pulling the hood that covered his face behind his head.

Moment. Fisburn was stunned, his round eyes seemed to have seen the most terrifying, the most incredible scene. "How...... Wait, listen to me, wait......"

"Poof!"

A jet of blood splattered on the ground behind Fishburn's head, and the figure pulled the trigger of the crossbow gun directly, interrupting Fishburn's words with a crossbow arrow that shot into his mouth, he was not interested in listening to his nonsense at all.

Soon. The midnight battle was over, and at the command of the figure, all the corpses were thrown into a wagon. After that, bucket after bucket of seawater washed away the remaining blood stains on the ground more and more faintly. When they cleaned up all the wreckage and left the square in front of the harbor with the wagon holding the "cargo", it looked as if nothing had happened except for the smell of blood in the air.

The night is precipitating, spreading, the highest point of the city of Belém, on a mountain raised to the northwest. The lights in the city lord's mansion were still bright, and it seemed that the lord of the city would never slow down his pace because of the arrival of night, never. In one of the towering minarets of this mid-level castle. The soft sound of the piano grinds against the air, bringing out bursts of flowing notes.

Through the glass windows, you can see a man sitting in front of a pipe organ that is almost integrated with the building, playing earnestly.

Countless patchwork of copper pipes with a dull yellow sheen run straight up the steep walls, and the solid wood platforms that hold them in place replace the walls, connected to the floor, and are lit up by the bright lights to create a deep texture. When this massively complex creation of metal and solid wood finally coalesced into a four-tiered keyboard like a staircase in front of the man. and the dense sound plugs on both sides. You'd think you'd see a miracle of craftsmanship and music.

Slender fingers descend from the highest keyboard, and the pointed cooked cowhide organ shoes on the head keep stepping on the keys under their feet. Agile and lilting notes flow from the high registers of the brass and get lower and lower. In the sound bolt area next to the man, an old butler with silver hair was skillfully adjusting the timbre, and his movements were extremely precise, not a single point, not a little more.

It seems to be a movement depicting the water of the river, and in the first crunch, countless streams flow through the cold-winded plateau, gradually merging into a magnificent river, flowing into the distance. It flows through the forests where the hunter's horn echoes, through the fields like Mother Earth, through the smiling faces of children in the summer, and over the shores that reverberate with wedding blessings......

The river grew faster and faster, as if it had merged into a rushing torrent. Suddenly, the man's fingers landed on the keyboard on the lowest floor, and a large, low roar gushed out, like a river pouring into a canyon, striking a majestic trill against the blade-like cliff. The whole organ seemed to wake up in an instant, the stops on both sides of the column played up or fell, and the air surged in the thousands of brass pipes and stirred the reeds, playing layers of complex tones, at this moment, the man seemed to be incarnated as a messenger to manipulate the storm, and with his weak palms he drew out the thunder that tore through the sky.

Then, the river passes through the canyon to meet the rising sun, stretching and gradually opening up, but still rushing forward, disappearing into the distance of the horizon.

The man's fingers slowly lifted over the last key, and the elongated syllables grew lighter and lighter, eventually disappearing into the concert hall. "Praise...... The great ...... of the river" The man's mind seemed to be still immersed in the music, and his voice was so soft that it required great attention to hear. The old butler next to him bowed to the side with a hand behind his back.

"Tell me, Ek, what did you hear?" the man asked, not looking back, but to himself.

In the corner of the concert hall, Ike, who had once appeared in the private room, was bowing down and his gaze fell on his toes. "My lord, I hear the ...... of greatness and smallness"

"Oh, great or small, my dear Ek, you're getting better at talking......" The man chuckled and stood up, his dark green eyes radiating two sword-like gazes, and looked at Ek in the corner, "Come on, why do you think Fisburn died?"

Ek's body trembled, but he didn't dare to look up, let alone answer. He knew very well that the answer below was not what he should say. Sure enough, the man's voice was after a brief pause. Passed it again. "It's not stupidity, stupidity isn't deadly. I never thought that my men were all brilliant men...... "because of ignorance...... Ignorantly thinking that I can play some tricks under my nose!"

"Yes, sir......" Eck's body bowed lower.

Sighing softly, the man didn't seem to want to linger on the subject for too long, and he looked out the window at the night. "Calculate the time, Olit should be back soon, right?" the old butler standing next to him quickly replied, "Yes, my lord." The Guardian Elder should be back soon......"

At that moment, there was a knock on the door of the concert hall, and the man who had killed Fisborne with an arrow walked in with the prisoner who had been held up by his subordinates. "My lord, it's all taken care of, this is the prisoner. Olit bowed, then stepped aside.

When the man heard Ollet's report, his eyes lit up, and he fixed his eyes on the unkempt prisoner. Step forward quickly. The man grabbed the prisoner's chin and lifted his head, but the face that greeted him made him slightly stunned. He then withdrew his palm. "Tell me all about what happened in the tavern again, the more detailed the better. ”

When Eck heard the other man's order, he immediately repeated it carefully, while the prisoner, who had been poisoned and had broken his limbs, struggled to explain the whole thing. But their movements were all interrupted by what the man was doing next.

"Well done...... man said, drawing the sword from Ollet's waist. A stab pierced Chara's chest. The vice-captain's struggle with Ek's retelling. All froze on the spot, and Eke looked at the prisoner and didn't know what was happening. As for Chara, whose eyes were round, he never thought that this seemingly simple escort mission would cost him his life.

The old butler and Olite next to him were the ones who knew the inside story, but only a trace of stunned flashed on their faces, and they immediately returned to normal. "I finally discovered what a terrible thing it is when stupidity and ignorance appear in a person at the same time...... After all, it was indeed my fault to hand over such an important business to a stupid pig......" The man shook his head self-deprecatingly and handed the sword back to Orik.

"Ek, from now on, the black-blooded shackles are yours......" The man turned and said, "Remember everything that happened today, remember, what can be done and what can't be done......"

"Yes, sir!" replied Ek, holding back the ecstasy in his heart.

"Alright, let's go down," the man waved his hand impatiently, "by the way, take this corpse down with you......"

"Yes!" Ek commanded, and immediately carried Chara's body out with Orik's men. In the concert hall, only the old butler and Olick, who were the most trusted by men, were left.

After a long silence, the old butler spoke first. "Your ......, my lord"

"That's not Your Highness. The man replied very dryly, but his words made the old butler and the chief of the guard stunned for a moment. "No wonder they didn't take Fisburn seriously at all, no wonder they were able to hire Legb of Grey Iron Harbor to sail for them...... It turned out that there was another force...... "The man paused, as if thinking about something, "who could it be?" Tandra, or old Sean?...... It's getting more and more interesting......"

The old butler and the chief of the guard looked at each other, and they found that the whole thing was getting more and more complicated. "My lord, do you need to inform the Duke of the capital?" suggested the old butler.

The man shook his head. "No, tell me, our men have been eyeing the group. He asked, looking at the old butler.

"Yes, my lord, they stayed at the 'Roadstone Inn', and our people have been following them all the time, and nothing will go wrong. The old butler replied at once.

The man's brows furrowed. "Bemont, with my orders, seal the gates at once. Orik, take forty Belén guards and bring your Highness back for me!" he said decisively, "Remember, you should not be difficult to tell if you are about twenty years old, with blue eyes," he tried to describe what Sovereign looked like, and that was still the impression he had left at the canonization ceremony, "As for the others, if they resist, they will live or die!"

"Yes, sir!" replied the old butler and the chief of the guard, and walked briskly out of the concert hall.

As the two disappeared into the doorway, the man walked slowly to the window. From here, he could overlook the whole city of Belém, which belonged to him. In fact, he had already learned all the details of the deal from Ek, and even knew exactly when the escort team had arrived in Belém. Combined with the news from the capital and the rumors among the top nobles, he had reason to believe that the team that set off from Nightingale City was escorting His Royal Highness Sovereign Konderbach, the only son of the former King Aiden and the true heir to the throne.

But he did not use forceful means to directly detain them, and exchanged the minimum price for the greatest benefit, which was his principle all along—the principle of the businessman. However, he never expected that the members of the escort team would have been replaced by the other force long ago, and he would even be tricked.

His gaze paused in the moonlit harbor in the distance, remembering what had happened in the capital recently. Through the efforts of Aleramo Garcella, the provincial nobility finally ceded a part of the profits of Sardinia and slightly increased the taxes on some of the monopolistic industries.

Although this is only a small achievement since the new Prime Minister took office, the most important thing is that the Gallcella family will grab more voice and political capital on the stage of the kingdom. On top of that, what if there was a crown prince who was quietly in his hands? In that case, the regent would inevitably obey the Galcella family, and at that time, who would dare to think of himself as a mere businessman of the richest country?

The man's face through the glass window was a little blurry, but the dark green pupils released a breathtaking light. "Brother, you've got a big problem for me......" (To be continued)

ps: Thank you for the reward and monthly ticket of Xuji Shoudu, this is the first reward and the first monthly ticket in this book, thank you compass.