Chapter 1805 - 501: The King Skilled at Quelling Fires Shows Compassion for His Subjects (Part 3)

Pausing momentarily, he made a summary.

"They have retreated."

"Retreated?"

Theoden savored the intriguing word, with a touch of mockery playing at the corner of his mouth.

He did not think so.

Earl Derek's life or death was of no concern to him; merely one of the pieces on his vast chessboard.

The reason he stirred the Campbell Duchy's situation was simply to create sufficient chaos, leaving the young Duke unable to attend to the easily obtainable Twilight Province... that was the direct territory of the Devalu family.

Yet, truth be told, Edward's choice still brought a slight surprise to him.

He put down his teacup and paced to the bookshelf, murmuring thoughtfully.

"Restraint is much harder than indulgence, it seems our Duke is no ordinary man."

The servant's face showed a hint of confusion, clearly not grasping the deeper meaning.

Theoden glanced at the intelligence-gathering instrument at his knee, and unusually felt inclined to say more.

"Kill them, and their offspring can rightfully inherit the noble title; the land and glory remain with their family, and the matter ends there. Our Duke is very clever—it's as if he foresaw my next move and deliberately avoided our trap, choosing instead to forge a different path."

Holding a title and possessing it in reality are two concepts. It's akin to imprisoning the title itself in a dungeon.

In a few decades, when those Earls and Barons die in the dungeon, by the time their children inherit the titles, those titles might only end up being just that—titles.

With Edward's ambition, he surely wouldn't be content with enfeoffing another group of lords.

Instead, under new jurisprudence, he will establish a new order for those lands without a master.

Theoden's voice gradually took on a hint of cold admiration, offering respect to that distant adversary.

"He's using a blunt knife, slowly and steadily stripping the foundations of the old Campbell nobility, along with their dignity. This young Duke is indeed far more skilled than his father who knew only how to wield the sword."

It seems his intuition was correct.

The Campbell family's issue was no longer within the family itself, but rather in the lands deceived by them, nurturing a fearsome power.

To ultimately resolve this issue, they must act before the situation develops into an irretrievable state, strangling the ambition swelling behind that foolish Duke and his ever-growing commoner supporters right at its inception.

Theoden halted, slowly twisting the ruby ring on his thumb, the ring casting a faint glow under candlelight.

He suddenly asked in a tone of curious interest.

"I suddenly wonder, how did he deal with his brother, that Prince Jelock?"

The knights he sent to the Campbell Duchy must have already met their end; he cared little for the fate of these pawns.

In contrast, he was more curious about Jelock's outcome, the fellow who, upon surrendering, lent him a considerable aid, leaving a glimmer of hope for the rebellious family.

The servant dared not delay and answered promptly.

"Your Majesty, Jelock Campbell was exiled. According to our information, Edward sent him to a solitary island far from the coastline. He pledged an oath to spend the rest of his life in the monastery there."

Upon hearing this, a satisfied smile played on Theoden's lips.

Exile?

"Hehe..."

He finally left the bookshelf that held the kingdom's history, slowly returning to his desk, picking up the scepter leaning against the table and sitting back down.

His fingers silently tapped rhythm on the scepter, as if in thought.

The servant kneeling on one knee dared not interrupt his thoughts, merely bowing his head respectfully in patience.

After about a quarter of an hour, the old King's eyes suddenly opened, his face graced with a smile full of implications.

"It appears our young Duke is still soft-hearted; I thought he was as indifferent as myself."

Political demise does not equate to actual death. So long as one disregards the sacred authority, he has many ways to repurpose those abandoned claims.

Of course, this requires Jelock's cooperation.

However, if he doesn't cooperate, it really doesn't matter; there's another use for the blood in this young man.

Edward assumes he controls everything yet inadvertently exposes his own weakness.

Theoden shifting his focus, looked at the servant still prostrating on the ground.

In those eagle-like eyes, a deep maliciousness and coldness emerged.

"In that case," he whispered, "let's lend our Duke a helping hand."

...

The sunset bell tolled.

Merchant Newcastle followed the footsteps of Baron Wickton through corridors to a secluded office in the palace backyard.

Here lacked the ostentation and oppression of the Audience Hall, only rows of towering filing cabinets and the strong scent of ink.

Newcastle suddenly felt a bit of fondness for the baron.

His intuition told him, this Baron was a man of action.

Wickton gestured Newcastle to sit casually, before instructing a servant to pour tea for them both.

"Mr. Newcastle, try this," Wickton smiled kindly, as though hosting an old friend, lacking any airs of a Baron, "This is tea bestowed upon me by Your Majesty, reportedly originating from the tea estates of the Vortex Sea south coast."

Newcastle sat cautiously at the edge of his chair.

He accepted the teacup, staring at the swirling mist in deep thought for a long time, unable to hold back from speaking.