Arknights' Lock of Heaven

Ms. Kayne expressed her utter despair at this situation.

She didn't even have the possibility of switching sides, since the nobles were more interested in knowing who this person was.

I heard their letters of inquiry have even reached the Twin Queens of Letania, simply because their methods are somewhat reminiscent of liches…

The Sarkaz court... Lady Kaine's heart sank as she recalled the many terrifying legends about them in Terra.

415 Kal'tsit, I'm ****!

University of Trilintmerludvig, the capital of Letania

High atop the ancient tower, one of the twin queens sought out the lich.

"Helinmat, what brings you here to see me?" the old lich said bluntly. "What, is there some mess you need me to clean up your mess with now?"

"Let me guess, which group of nobles were secretly trading with the Duke of Victoria?"

“No, those people, those who could be found, are all dead,” said Hildergard Helimmat, one of the Twin Queens, a woman of ruthless authority and black hair, indifferently.

But the old lich in front of her showed no reaction to the bloodshed and cruelty in her words. Instead, he quipped, "That sounds familiar."

“These strange people are so afraid of you, my dear Your Majesty. Do you know what they secretly call you? ‘The next Witch King,’ and don’t forget, you all have a fondness for black.”

“I think you should really learn from your fellow sisters. Look at them, Eternal Grace, with its gold and white attire. That’s the kind of benevolent monarch that you Letanians expect.”

"Although you and I both know that she is not very 'merciful,' just like your Leitanians' terrible taste, always mixing all sorts of fancy things into spells, your people like this kind of thing."

Helinmat remained unmoved by the old lich's mockery, saying, "I have never denied the significance of Helhunzoren's intellect, skill, and strength to Letania."

"Moreover, I think this is exactly the kind of quality that Letania needs right now."

“The Electors won’t like your argument,” the old lich said with a shrug. “They don’t want another Witch-King to appear in Letania.”

“What they fear is never the title of ‘Witch King’. What they fear is that Liselotte and I will follow the old path of Helhunzoren and take power and benefits away from them.”

“Oh, you remind me of that guy Leopold. When you were born, he secretly asked me—how long do children born from this kind of secret technique live?”

"So what was your answer?" Herlinmat's interest was piqued.

“I said, ‘Your Excellency, I cannot say for sure, but they will certainly outlive you.’”

At this point, the old lich's eyebrows danced with excitement.

“Then he must not be very satisfied with this answer,” Helena Matt’s cold face showed a rare smile, which then vanished in an instant.

"Let's wrap up this small talk. I have something I'd like to ask you."

“Oh, go ahead and ask,” the old lich replied absentmindedly.

“Fremont, you, I mean the liches,” Helemat paused, considering her words before continuing tactfully, “where do you plan to settle down in the future?”

"Hmm? So eager to get rid of us? We were just having such a pleasant conversation," Fremont raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so those lambs can't stand the presence of us liches anymore, can they?"

"You are ultimately their emperor."

He paused slightly, then continued, "We can leave, but I have something in Letania. Once we get it back, we'll leave immediately and won't bother you anymore..."

“No, Fremont, you’ve misunderstood me,” Helena sighed and explained, “I… I’m really not good at speaking tactfully, Liselotte, sigh, I shouldn’t have listened to her.”

“Wait, euphemism?” Hearing this, the old lich glared and said, “You call the way you just spoke, which was practically telling us to get out of Letania, euphemism?”

"That's quite... tactful."

“No, Fremont, listen to me, that’s not what I meant,” Helena sighed. “I’m not here to discuss these things today. Perhaps I’m just… a little… unskilled at trying new ways of talking, as Liselotte suggested.”

"Let me be frank. My point is, do you liches plan to go to Ursus? To find the infamous Last Wendigo, and then, just like you helped Letania a thousand years ago, help him establish a kingdom for the Infected?"

Upon hearing this, the old lich was completely dumbfounded.

"No, Your Majesty, what has given you such an outrageous idea? To send us to join that little Wendigo? My God, to establish a kingdom of the infected?"

He was completely bewildered. "What made you have such a misconception? Do we liches like that godforsaken place, the snowfield?"

“Fremont, you don’t need to hide it,” Helena said calmly, looking at him. “We all agree on this: you don’t want to stay, and the nobles don’t want to see you stay either.”

“Let’s be frank. If you liches really intend to help the Patriots split Ursus, then Letania will provide some assistance.”

She stated bluntly, "Ursus... is a powder keg right now. Nobody knows who will ultimately win the power struggle between the dukes and the emperor, but no matter who wins the crown, Ursus will always be the warlike Ursus."

"As long as it remains strong, Letania, as a neighboring country, will worry about the coming of war. Even though we are not afraid of Ursus's military might, Letania is at a critical juncture. Lizeroth and I will do everything we can to prevent Letania from being drawn into the flames of war."

"So, Fremont, if the liches are prepared to help the Patriots split Ursus, then Letania will fully support you and make our warlike neighbor turn his attention away from the surrounding area."

"Just like the agreement you and Casimir made sometime ago."

“Wait, let me catch my breath,” Fremont said, his head buzzing. He held onto the books piled up around him with one hand and rubbed his temples with the other.

"Am I dreaming?" Fremont muttered to himself. "When did we liches ever go to Wendigo to join forces and help him establish a kingdom? In that godforsaken place, the snowfields?"

"When did I make a deal with Kazimierz? When did I become connected with those foals?"

"Oh, Your Majesty, can you tell me where you got these outrageous rumors from? Are you making fun of me?"

"Are you trying to connect the humor to what Ivignad said? If so, Your Majesty, you might as well tell a horror story."

"So, you really don't have this idea?" Helena looked at him quietly and said, "Actually, it's possible..."

"No, that's not true!" Fremont roared, jumping up. "Why should we go to that godforsaken snowfield? Or join Wendigo, who now only has one pureblood left? What can his rabble do even with the help of us liches? Do they think they can split Ursus?"

"The fact that they weren't wiped out within a week shows how strong their fighting spirit is!"

“Tell me, Herlinmat, who gave you such an outrageous idea? It was Ivignad. I’ve always said that she’s all show and no substance, her heart is black!”

“Fremont, don’t say that about Liselotte,” Helena sighed. “You know I don’t like hearing that.”

“Herlinmat—my heartless Majesty, seeing your tender face is really hard for me to accept,” the old lich said sarcastically. “Actually, I always felt that your titles should be changed. She is much more heartless than you, just like she wanted us liches to go to that godforsaken snowfield to starve.”

"My God, we've been in Letania for so many years, we've done our part, haven't we? How could she be so heartless..."

"But looking at your familiar gloomy expression, could it be that I wronged her? Which elector came up with the idea? Tell me, and I'll go and have a talk with them."

"Let's go then. There's nothing good about staying in this wretched Letania anyway, but why do we have to go to that godforsaken snowfield?"

“Sigh, Fremont, stop provoking me with Liselotte,” Helinmat sighed helplessly. “This wasn’t anyone’s idea; it was an inquiry from Ursus.”

“Through secret channels from the Dukes of Ursus,” she explained helplessly, “just days ago, the Sixth Army, which Ursus had rebuilt, was completely wiped out.”

"But what does this have to do with Letania, and with us liches?"

"What caused the annihilation of that army was a merchant ship from Kazimierz. Their trading target was the Patriots, who had recently caused quite a stir in Ursus."

"So what? I still have the same question: what does this have to do with Letania? And with us liches?"

“The problem is that those dukes insist that it was you liches who caused that catastrophe,” Helemat looked at the old lich with a questioning expression. “I have always respected you, Fremont. Can you tell me the truth? It really wasn’t you who did it?”

"So why do you think it was done by us liches?" Fremont was furious. "What does it have to do with me if it's a merchant ship from the Kazimirs?"

"Because that calamity was launched using magic, they claim to have found evidence. With such knowledge, and the person behind that merchant ship with unclear ties to the Sarkaz, after ruling out all possibilities, only you liches could have done such a thing."

"Someone? Who?" the old lich asked, his beard bristling and eyes wide.

"Her name is Kal'tsit, and according to the Ursus dukes, that name alone is enough for them to suspect a lich."

"I f*** you! I f*** you! Kal'tsit! I f*** you, I f*** you!!!" Upon hearing this, the old lich burst out a string of Sarkaz curses, leaving the queen in front of him completely bewildered.

After hurling insults for ten minutes straight without repeating himself, Fremont finally stopped.

"So, it really wasn't you who did it?"

"Of course not!!!"

"No, I mean, it is possible."

"No! Absolutely not! I'd rather jump off this tower right now than starve in the snow!!!"

416 The Dukes' Secret Meeting

"Leytania does not acknowledge the lich's message."

A holographic projection said in a serious tone, "And the wording... is extremely unfriendly."

"It seems that the internal strife within Ursus over the years has made the surrounding countries somewhat forget the glory days of Ursus."

"...Isn't this just common sense?" another projection scoffed. "From Kazimierz to the Eastern Kingdom, which battle have we won?"

"Now we've actually stooped to confronting such lowly creatures as infected people, ha."

"It's perfectly normal for others to look down on us. Ursus has completely lost its past glory."

“Belgar, rebuild your Third Army first before you speak,” his words were met with ridicule from the others. “So what if you don’t have any troops and can’t get a share of the spoils? Look at your sour tone, anyone would think you’re a loyal dog under our Emperor.”

"How dare you..." Upon hearing this, Grand Duke Belgaard flew into a rage.

"What's there to be afraid of?" the other party retorted sharply.

As they argued fiercely, the Grand Prince of Ural coughed twice, his body weak.

Seeing his sunken eyes, emaciated figure, pale face, and IV drip, the others stopped their mocking, resentful, or inflammatory remarks.

After all, this is a very tragic story of a great duke, and everyone present felt a pang of sympathy upon seeing it.

Back then, the Sixth Army was completely surrounded and annihilated due to a decision-making error. The Grand Duke of the Urals had to go through various exchanges of interests, almost emptying half of his resources, to rebuild it and restore its organization. Then, he almost emptied the other half of his resources to rebuild the Sixth Army.

Then, overnight, it was all gone—half a lifetime's work, oh no, the Grand Duke of the Urals was already half-buried, it should be a lifetime, uh, no, he also lost his ancestral assets…