Published at 21st of January 2026 6:27 am

Chapter 1434: Reasonable Count

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Queen Amira sat before the tall mirror in her chambers, dressed in a simple nightgown, slowly combing her crimson hair.

The room was lit by lamps, their glow reflecting polished marble stone and silk curtains. She hummed a light, merry tune under her breath, seemingly at ease.

Ever since Amira found Anna’s recorded message and learned that she was safe and doing well, it felt like a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She no longer cried herself to sleep at night. She no longer had to hide her grief under a smile. For now, she was truly happy.

Suddenly, the door behind her opened quietly.

Maximillian entered the chambers and approached her from behind. He stopped right behind her, watching her reflection for a moment before speaking.

"Amira," he said calmly. "What do you make of Nilrem?"

The Queen’s hand paused briefly, the comb hovering mid-stroke, before she resumed her gentle motions. With a curious look in her bright ruby eyes, she asked, "How come you’re suddenly asking about him?"

"Marlow raised a valid point in the council meeting earlier today," said the King. "I’m beginning to wonder whether it’s wise to keep an unknown variable like Nilrem in the capital."

He paused for a moment, then sighed. "You’ve spoken with him before, haven’t you? I’d like to know what you think of him."

Amira’s brow ached in slight surprise. "I was under the impression that Magus Nilrem had already sworn a mana oath, proving that he isn’t an enemy."

She turned around and held her husband’s hand. As she gently looked him in the eye, she asked, "Even after all that, do you still suspect him?"

The King inhaled deeply, then sighed. "I suppose... our daughter’s message has made me far more cautious."

Amira smiled. "You don’t have to worry about Magus Nilrem."

Maximillian’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. He had always relied on his wife’s counsel, so much so that he consulted her on many matters regarding governance. He had long recognized her wisdom in all things and had come to respect it deeply.

"How so?" he asked.

"I don’t believe Nilrem means us any harm," she said calmly. "When I spoke with him, I sensed no hostility, no greed, no hidden malice. If anything, he felt... distant, but not dangerous."

She met her husband’s eyes, her expression thoughtful.

"And this may sound irrational," she began. "But my instincts tell me that keeping him close would be a boon, not just to the kingdom, but to House Fireborne as well."

She paused, her lips curling into a gentle smile as she recalled her conversation with the eccentric elderly Magus.

"Some people enter our lives as risks. Others enter as answers. I believe Nilrem is closer to the latter."

Maximillian deeply looked at Amira. His lips curled into a faint smile, and he gently squeezed her hands.

"Very well, my love."

***

Count Ward arrived at the familiar two-story manor just past dusk.

The place was immaculate as always, tastefully furnished, quiet, and deliberately unremarkable from the outside. This was where the arrangements were made, where indulgence was made to feel uncontrolled.

As he walked through the opulent corridors of the manor, he couldn’t help but think to himself:

Dragonshit!

Just how much money has this pimp spent on this house? What a waste!

Unfortunately, the majority of this guy’s wealth is tied up in real estate. There were hardly a little more than fifty thousand gold coins that I could loot.

Wait... loot isn’t the right term. This money rightfully belongs to me, Burne Ward, Count of Ignisra!

Burne Ward ran a hand through his slick, blond hair as he neared his destination.

It had been almost a week since he had become Burne Ward. Fortunately, during that time, he didn’t have to meet with his co-conspirators. That gave him ample time to settle into his new character.

It’s a pity the Lotus didn’t absorb the memories of the Count, he thought to himself with a sigh.

He still couldn’t actively control the Lotus’s abilities. Whether or not the artifact absorbed the memories of the slain was purely up to luck.

Burne finally pushed open the door to the private chambers where the meeting was going to be held.

Leila was waiting inside.

The moment Burne saw her, he faltered... inwardly.

Goodness arcana, she’s gorgeous, he praised silently.

The Enchantress’s beauty struck him harder than he expected. It wasn’t merely her features, though they were flawless, nor the way she carried herself with grace. It was the calm confidence in her posture, the quiet awareness in her eyes, as though she already knew the effect she had on those who looked at her.

Adam forced his expression to remain neutral as he approached. He willed the Faceless Mask to flawlessly impersonate Burne’s mana signature down to the smallest detail. As for the Count’s mannerisms, he had already practiced enough of them.

He arrived before the Enchantress, placed a hand on his chest, and offered an elegant bow.

"Lady Leila, you look as beautiful as ever."

Leila studied the Count for a few moments, then snorted in displeasure. "You’re lucky you still draw breath. If it were up to me..."

Count Ward offered an apologetic smile. "It seems you still haven’t forgiven me for my mistake. And you have every right to be angry. But in my defense, the Prince was acting rather strangely that day."

Leila’s face twisted into a scowl. "If Lord Osbert hadn’t been there, do you have any idea what would have happened to us?"

Burne Ward sighed. "My Lady, we cannot change the past. Let us look to the future instead, and see how we can work together more effectively to bring down the Prince and his family."

The Enchantress wanted to argue with the Count and continue to belittle him, but the man sounded reasonable enough that she didn’t know what else to say.

Right at that moment, a cold, grating voice echoed around them.

"He is right."

Burne Ward’s pupils constricted, and a single thought echoed inside his mind.

He’s finally here!

The Count pretended to tremble in fright, then turned towards the source of the voice. There, he saw a figure cloaked in dark robes emerge from the darkness.

Burne Ward nervously gulped, then offered a deep bow. "Greetings, my lord!"

But inwardly... Adam Constantine thought with dark, icy, carefully concealed malevolence:

Count your days... necromancer!

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