Lord: I have built a witch's sanctuary.

Chapter 147 Sugar-Coated Bullets

The biting winter wind, sharp as a knife, was completely blocked by the towering Titan Alloy walls.

Inside Frostwolf City, the snow was beginning to melt.

The streets, which were originally covered by snow, are now filled with the roar of engineering puppets working busily.

The three-meter-tall tracked golem swung its mechanical arm, clearing away the collapsed rocks and the skeletons of the giant beast.

Ordinary people pushed wheelbarrows to transport the newly mined anthracite coking coal to various heating points in the city.

This place has just experienced a near-apocalyptic catastrophe, and the lingering stench of burning and blood can still be smelled in the air. But the entire city is like a giant beast that has licked its wounds and risen again, exuding a rugged and vigorous vitality.

The lord's hall was warm and cozy.

No sooner had Count Oss left than the heavy oak door was suddenly pushed open.

Victor strode across the threshold. The fourth-tier Grand Knight was still wearing his heavy armor, covered in scratches and dents. With each step he took, the armor plates clanged together with a crisp, chilling sound. He walked to the desk and slammed one knee heavily on the stone slab.

"My lord, a troop has suddenly arrived outside the city."

Lorraine was looking down at a report he had written, the parchment filled with a list of the enormous material shortages needed to rebuild the territory.

Upon hearing this, his fingers holding the quill paused slightly, and he looked up.

"They claim to be a royal delegation," Victor said, his head bowed and his tone somewhat stiff. "The leader is holding a token bearing the royal wax seal and demands immediate entry into the city to meet Earl Frostwolf."

Lorraine frowned slightly.

Royal delegation?

My gaze passed over Victor and fell on the muddy street outside the window, which was not yet completely dry.

The snow season in the North had just been abruptly ended, and the blizzard had only subsided a few days prior.

The trade routes were riddled with frost-cracked gullies and ice layers up to half a meter deep. Even the most knowledgeable merchants had to be extremely cautious when crossing the snowfield.

This team, which set out from the capital, arrived far too quickly.

"From the capital to the northern border, even if you ride a wyvern the whole way, you will have to change vehicles three times."

Lorraine tossed the report back onto the table, tapping his knuckles lightly on the wooden surface. "I'm afraid they must have used some expensive teleportation magic to get this group of people to the gates of Frostwolf City so precisely on time."

Victor suddenly looked up, his hand on his sword hilt. "Sir, could it be an assassin? That fourth-tier assassin from last time infiltrated using spatial teleportation. Should I take some men and take them out—"

"Need not."

Lorraine stood up, casually grabbed the black cloak from the back of the chair and draped it over her shoulders, then strode outside.

"Since he's using the royal name, we should see what new tricks our prince is up to this time. Open the city gates and bring him to the main hall."

"7

The main hall of the lord's hall.

The atmosphere was heavy and somewhat oppressive. Twelve fully armed royal guards stood on both sides, their battle auras faintly emanating from the peak of the third tier.

The man standing in the center was dressed in a well-tailored court dress with intricate gold thread embroidery on the collar.

He raised his chin slightly, surveying the somewhat rough stone walls around him, a hint of contempt flashing in his eyes that he tried hard to conceal.

The sound of steady footsteps came from the depths of the corridor.

Lorraine walked to the head seat, turned around, and sat down with an air of authority.

There were no pleasantries, no rising to greet him, not even an order to serve tea. He simply leaned back quietly in the large lord's chair, his gaze sweeping down.

-

It was as if an invisible mountain had suddenly pressed down on the air.

The man's breath hitched, and the sense of superiority he had been deliberately maintaining vanished the moment he met Lorraine's gaze.

It was a sense of oppression that truly came from the bloodbath of Mount Hu, especially since the fifth-tier Winter Lord had just been killed. The fierce aura that lingered in the soul was something that a civil official stationed in the capital could not withstand.

The man subconsciously swallowed, his straight back hunching slightly as he stepped forward.

"Your Excellency Earl Frostwolf," he forced a polite smile and bowed slightly, "my name is Roderick, His Majesty's special envoy."

As he spoke, he held up a parchment scroll bound with a dark red ribbon, the crimson royal wax seal at the top of which was particularly eye-catching.

Victor stepped down the steps, took the parchment scroll, turned and strode back up the steps, respectfully handing it over.

Lorraine casually tore off the ribbon, flicked the sealing wax seal with his fingertips, and unfurled the parchment scroll with one hand.

His gaze swept quickly across the densely packed courtly calligraphy.

Throughout the entire process, there was no movement in his facial muscles.

There was no surprise, no anger, just the calm as looking at today's dinner menu.

"Edict of investiture".

Lorraine's lips curled into a very faint smile as he casually tossed the parchment onto the table with a soft thud.

"The jurisdiction over the city of Camille, outside the North, along with its three medium-sized magic crystal mines, is granted to Earl Lorraine of Frostwolf."

He raised his eyelids and looked at the special envoy below with a half-smile: "The reason is to commend my great achievements in killing the Winter Lord and saving the entire North."

Roderick quickly put on a big smile and raised his voice by two octaves, "That's right! The Earl's heroic act of killing the Winter Lord and ending the snow season ahead of schedule has been transmitted back to the capital through the communication array, and His Majesty is overjoyed."

Cammyr City is renowned for its wealth, and its three magic crystal veins bring in a continuous stream of riches. This is the greatest favor the royal family has bestowed upon you!

Lorraine didn't respond.

A deathly silence fell over the hall.

Roderick's smile froze on his face, and fine beads of sweat gradually appeared on his forehead.

Staring into those deep black eyes, he felt like an insect pinned to a specimen board, all his words and pretense stripped away.

Lorraine finally looked away, but instead of giving a direct reply, she casually uttered a sentence.

"Victor, the delegation must be tired from their long journey. Take Envoy Roderick to rest. Remember, be sure to treat them with the highest level of courtesy, and don't let the people of the capital think that we Northerners don't know our manners."

Victor immediately stepped forward and grabbed Roderick's arm with such force that he almost crushed the latter's bones.

"Your Excellency, please."

Roderick wanted to say something more, but Victor half-forced him to walk out of the hall, leaving only a series of hurried footsteps behind.

Inside the study, the smokeless coke in the fireplace was burning brightly, making a soft crackling sound.

Anna came in carrying an exquisite tray and gently placed a freshly brewed cup of black tea on the desk.

Her fiery red hair was neatly tied back, and the immense magical power of the fifth-order entropy witch was perfectly contained within her body. At this moment, she looked just like an ordinary personal maid.

"Young Master."

Anna spoke softly, her gaze falling on the unfolded parchment scroll, a hint of doubt in her eyes.

-

"That prince, didn't he go so far as to send a fourth-tier shadow assassin to kill you? How come the snow season has barely ended, and the assassin's body isn't even cold yet, and you've already received an imperial decree?"

She paused, her brow furrowing slightly. "They've even bestowed upon you a city and three magic crystal mines. Does this mean they finally acknowledge your achievement in slaying the Winter Lord? Or perhaps—the royal family wishes to reconcile with you?"

Lorraine picked up her teacup, took a sip, and chuckled softly.

"Make up?"

Lorin put the teacup back in its place, stood up, and walked to the huge map of the North hanging on the wall of the study.

The fingertip traced the location of Frostwolf City downwards, passing through the red dotted line symbolizing the northern border, and finally stopped at a city marked with a golden fortress icon.

"Look here." He tapped his finger heavily on the map twice. "Carméné City."

Anna stepped forward, her gaze following the finger as it landed on the city.

"This city is indeed wealthy. The annual output of those three magic crystal veins is equivalent to ten times that of the former Frostwolf City." Lorraine turned to look at Anna. "But there's one thing that will absolutely not be written in the royal decree."

"What?"

"This piece of fat meat has been firmly in the mouth of the Earl of Desa family for four generations."

Lorraine's gaze returned to the map, and her fingertip traced a circle outward from the city of Camille.

"Over the past hundred years, the Desa family's influence in the area has become deeply entrenched. As an important source of magic crystals, they have used the terrifying wealth accumulated from their mines to cultivate a fifth-tier witch to oversee the region."

"Moreover, Camille City is located at a transportation hub and has deep ties and interests with three long-established and powerful territories in the surrounding area."

Lorraine sneered, returned to her desk, picked up the parchment scroll covered with royal sealing wax with two fingers, and waved it in mid-air.

"With just a flimsy piece of paper, you think you can get the Desa family to willingly hand over their ancestral business, which they've built up over four generations? To give up the magic crystal mines they depend on for survival?"

"Tch." The parchment was casually tossed back onto the table.

Anna was stunned.

Even though she was politically naive, upon hearing the words "four generations of management," "fifth-order witch," and "alliance of interests," she instantly realized the sinister intentions behind this reward.

"Young Master means—"

Lorraine leaned back in her chair, her fingers interlaced in front of her.

"Anna, think about it. What would happen if I accepted this decree and took it to Carmitchell to assume my post?"

Anna bit her lip and continued, "The Desa family will never hand over their territory. If we want to take it by force, we'll have to go to war. Frostwolf City will have to fight them head-on for control of the city."

“That’s right.” Lorraine nodded. “We just finished fighting the fifth-tier Winter Lord, and we’ve used all our trump cards. The witches desperately need to rest, and the defenses and resources of our territory need time to recover and rebuild. If we get involved in a pointless infighting among the lords at this time, and fight to the death against a century-old family with a fifth-tier witch, our military strength and resources will be drained instantly.”

Anna's breath hitched: "Then we absolutely cannot accept this! Why don't we just send the envoy back and refuse this investiture decree?"

"What if you refuse?"

Lorraine narrowed her eyes, a hint of coldness in them.

"The moment Roderick is driven out of Frostwolf City, the news of my refusal to be crowned will spread throughout the entire kingdom."

Believe it or not, that prince definitely has the means to ensure the Desa family obtains the most detailed intelligence within a single day.

Lorraine leaned forward slightly. "Put yourself in his shoes. If you were Earl Desa, and you knew that Earl Frostwolf, who had just killed the Scourge in the North and was riding high, had a legitimate opportunity to annex your territory, but chose to give it up, how would you feel?"

Anna was stumped by the question.

"Do you think the young master is generous? Or do you think you are showing goodwill?"

"No."

Lorraine interrupted, enunciating each word clearly.

"They will have doubts."

"They'll wonder, why would a powerful expert who can even kill a fifth-tier monster let go of a piece of easy prey?"

"They'll speculate about the reasons for my refusal, and they'll suspect that behind this seemingly yielding stance lies a deeper, more terrifying scheme. For example, is Frostwolf City planning to bypass the open handover and secretly launch a bloodbath against Camille City?"

Lorraine leaned back in his chair. "Once suspicion takes hold, it can never be eliminated. From now on, the Desa family will be wary of Frostwolf City, and may even join forces with neighboring lords to launch a defensive attack against us in order to protect themselves."

Anna's fingers unconsciously gripped the edge of the tray, her knuckles turning slightly white.

"Acceptance is a fight to the death, rejection is making enemies —"

She took a deep breath and kept her voice very low.

"Is that prince forcing me to choose between two options?"

"He's dividing up the coalfields." Lorraine turned to look out the window. "The prince's plan to replace the prince must have hit a wall elsewhere. These powerful lords who couldn't be replaced are his biggest obstacle. He wants to drag all these troublemakers down with him and make them tear each other apart."

My gaze returned to the map, and the distance between Camille City and Frostwolf City, a vast expanse of coal mines and mortars, seemed to be closing little by little in my line of sight.

"This is exactly the scenario that the prince most wanted to see."

"No matter what I choose, the royal family won't have to expend a single soldier to create a mortal enemy for me outside the North. This will distract me and weaken Frostwolf City. Once I and the Desa family are both exhausted, he can then step in under the name of the royal family to clean up the remaining forces and defeat them one by one."

The study was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

The light from the magic crystal lamp on the wall shone on Lorraine's profile, creating a half-light, half-dark effect.

Anna held the tray in front of her and took a half-inch step forward.

"Young Master."

His tone revealed an undisguised worry.

"Then what should I do? Derek is still waiting for your answer in the guest room. The royal family could spread the news at any time. Whether we accept it or not, the Desa family will—"

Lorraine raised her eyes, picked up the half-warm red tea from the table, and finished it off.

"Clatter."

The teacup landed steadily on the table.

"Who says I have to choose between these two rotten apples?"

Lorraine curled her lips into a smile. "I don't intend to choose between 'accepting' and 'rejecting'."

He suddenly stood up, grabbed the royal decree of honor from the table, and held it in his hand.

"I want to take the third path."