Chapter 268: An Unexpected Savior

"I can swear to the three Magic Goddesses that I had absolutely nothing to do with what happened last night!"

"Or the night before!"

"I’ve never done anything like that!"

In Carolina’s Public Security Bureau, "The Fourteenth Book of the Dead" swore to the ceiling that he had absolutely never done such a thing.

But a Necromancer’s reputation was never very good, and an oath from someone who used a Phantom to stand in for him at important events was even less convincing.

"You claim to have an alibi, but how are we supposed to know if the you who showed up that day wasn’t just a Phantom?" The official sitting across from Henry had clearly decided he was guilty. "Even if you didn’t commit these two crimes, what about the familicide a month ago? The killer fled in broad daylight, witnessed by hundreds. Don’t tell me that wasn’t your Undead Creatures, too?"

"Something about ’Undead Command Stiffening,’ right?"

"You can’t insult me like this!" Henry Robertson slammed the table and shot to his feet. "I would never do that—I’ve never done anything of the sort!"

"Is that so? Then where do the corpses for your experiments come from? In your home, we only found twelve body donation forms, and eight of them are suspected to be forgeries," the official snorted. "Mr. Henry, I regret to inform you that you’ll be staying here for the next half a month."

The Necromancer’s pupils constricted. ’Stay here? Absolutely not!’

’My experiment isn’t finished! Forget half a month, even a few days and my materials might rot. I have to get back and watch over them!’

"Officer, I refuse to fulfill my obligation! The laws of Carolina clearly state that under special circumstances, a Caster may refuse or postpone their duties!"

This was a law common to almost every city-state. Due to their unique nature, Casters could, with sufficient reason, refuse or postpone their obligations. Larger organizations like the major kingdoms, however, usually had no such provision; they had plenty of Casters, so if you wouldn’t do the job, someone else would.

"Article Three, Section Sixty-Seven, yes," the official said. But even in Carolina, officials had the authority to reject such requests from Mages. "The prerequisite is a situation with no war and no suspicion of criminal activity. You do not meet the requirements of this article."

"Now, I must regrettably ask you to remain here and hand over all blueprints and keys to your residence so we may conduct a search. Of course, you can also refuse. In that case, I will have no choice but to report this matter to the Magic Committee, as well as our Lord."

That was not a good option. Civil Servants might be indifferent to a change of Lords, but the Necromancer dared not underestimate that powerful Caster Lord.

"Very good," the official said, a contemptuous smirk playing on his lips as he watched Henry meekly hand over a ring of keys. "In that case, please make yourself at home here for a while. Rest assured, we won’t treat you poorly."

’These Casters must have a screw loose. A problem that could be solved with money, and yet they just don’t get it...’

Just as the official was thinking this, a knock suddenly sounded at the door.

"Who is it? Come in."

A guard hurried in and whispered something in the official’s ear.

The Necromancer couldn’t hear clearly, only catching words like "delegation" and "Lord." ’Has this really reached the Lord?’ Henry couldn’t help but feel a bit uneasy.

Listening to his subordinate’s report, the official’s expression first turned to displeasure, then cold indifference. By the time the guard stood up straight, a wide smile had bloomed on his face. "It’s them? Quick, show them in!"

The visitor was none other than Ron. Following behind him were two people: a young woman in a white robe, who was Victoria, and a Tiffling, who was of course Quest.

Although Victoria usually appeared in full armor, as a Priest—even a Priest of Heim—she naturally owned a Priest Robe. Today, she was aiming to cultivate an image of one who helps the world and saves its people, for which her stern armor was unsuitable.

"My Lord, what brings you here today?" the official asked, plastering on a smile as he hurried to greet him.

"The whole city is abuzz about how you and this respected lady acted righteously last night, saving people from disaster! For such a benevolent person to become Lord is truly a blessing for Delusional Land, and for us neighboring states as well!"

Sure enough, just as his colleagues had said, the Tiffling discreetly slipped a "small gift" into his coat during the brief moment of greeting and shaking hands. Feeling the light yet heavy "little present," the official’s smile grew even warmer.

"Delusional Land was previously a lawless, uncivilized place. Now that I am humbly serving as its Lord, I still have a long way to go," Ron said with a reserved smile. "I have long heard that public safety in Carolina is excellent, so I wanted to take this opportunity to learn from you."

This wasn’t entirely a lie. As a slave-owning city-state, Carolina was plagued by endless slave uprisings and escapes. If its public security were poor, the whole system would have fallen apart long ago. It was just that Ron had no interest in learning these "advanced methods."

"Not at all, not at all! To be able to offer you advice is our honor, hahaha—"

"However," the official said, glancing at the still-sulking Henry, "I heard you had other business here?"

"Indeed," Ron nodded, turning to the Necromancer whose Phantom he had seen once at a banquet. "This must be Mr. Robertson, I presume? I was hoping you could do me a small favor. A prestigious and respected Mage such as he should not be in a place like this."

Henry looked up at Ron, stunned. He didn’t understand why this strange Lord, whom he had never met, was pleading his case.

"I’ve dabbled in a bit of rudimentary Arcane Magic myself. People like us always have experiments of all sizes to conduct. The longer he’s kept away, the greater the losses will be," Ron said, giving the man a reassuring look before continuing. "I believe that rather than assigning blame, why not allow Mr. Robertson to better utilize his talents and contribute to the development of the city-state?"

"Exactly, exactly!" Robertson was overjoyed. ’This man isn’t just a Lord, he’s a kindred spirit!’

He had lived in Carolina for decades, and not once had anyone ever understood him like this!

"My Lord, I truly am in the middle of an experiment! For various reasons, I can’t use preservatives on the materials, so they will certainly go bad if left for too long!"

Ron smiled and nodded, guiding him on. "And once it succeeds..."

"Yes, yes, yes! And once my experiment succeeds, it is certain to bring immense benefits to the city-state, saving us a massive amount of demand for human resources!"