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Once lan left, Salvador was left alone, his thoughts spinning. From the moment Rafael had fallen ill, he had felt something was off-something wasn’t right about the entire situation.
It was precisely at this time when internal strife and external threats arose that the court desperately needed capable men. And yet, Rafael’s illness had struck with such speed and suddenness.
Now, it seemed Salvador’s suspicions had been confirmed.
For all this time, Rafael had been investigating the forces behind Yuvan’s rebellion, but hadn’t come close to discovering anything. Was there a possibility, though, that Rafael himself was the one pulling the strings behind Yuvan?
With Yuvan’s betrayal, Rafael’s sudden “illness” and departure for Valken made perfect sense. With his commanding presence, Rafael could effortlessly take control of Yuvan’s forces, shifting the power in a heartbeat.
Of course, this theory was riddled with complications, such as the fact that Rafael had mentioned another figure behind Yuvan’s rebellion. If this mysterious person was indeed Rafael, then why mention them at all? Surely he could have kept that information to himself.
Unless, of course, he wanted to mislead others—perhaps to throw suspicion onto the plot and draw himself into the conspiracy. It would allow Rafael to get closer to the people involved on that side, positioning himself in the middle of the treason.
But what about Lunvale? That didn’t make sense, either. Did Rafael know that the 5,000 soldiers there were completely loyal to Yuvan, and that he had assessed the situation and found it impossible to control? Was that why he decided to use the forces from Meadow Ridge to eliminate them instead?
The possibility certainly existed.
Salvador’s thoughts were a tangled mess, swirling with rage and a fear he could not ignore.
No one was more suited for rebellion than Rafael. He held royal blood, was a military genius, and had the support of the Southern Frontier’s army. Most importantly, he had established a reputation with the people, winning their hearts and minds.
All he needed was a legitimate excuse to rise in rebellion.
That was why Salvador had hesitated to make a move against the people in Hell Monarch Estate. Once he did, Rafael would have the perfect reason to act-one that could justify any uprising.
Suddenly, something occurred to him, and he ordered Derek, “Send for Sophie!”
Sophie knelt on one knee in the royal study, enduring Salvador’s cold and sharp scrutiny.
Her eyes remained lowered, her expression calm and composed. There was no trace of guilt or ambition -she carried herself with the same respectful demeanor as always.
For a fleeting moment, Salvador thought of her lineage. She was Hector’s daughter, after all. His earlier suspicions now seemed somewhat absurd. How could the daughter of Hector Devin, a man who had given his life on the battlefield, harbor treasonous intent?
But the trust only lasted for that brief instant, and it extended solely to Hector, the man who had fallen on the battlefield.
A wife followed her husband’s lead. Sophie and Rafael shared a unified front-their interests were inevitably aligned.
“I sent the royal physician to check on Rafael,” Salvador said, finally breaking the silence. His voice was steady, betraying none of the turbulent thoughts that had plagued him moments ago. “Jacob informed me that Rafael has gone to Meadow Ridge to recuperate.”
Sophie bowed slightly. “Thank you for your concern, Your Majesty.”
Salvador pressed his lips together. Her words of gratitude seemed like a polite deflection, sidestepping the matter entirely.
“I believe his illness stems from exhaustion,” Salvador continued, his tone measured. “You accompanied him to Lunvale not long ago, and now you’re managing the Mystic Army, the workshop, and the academy. The household needs at least one of you in good health. It won’t do for both husband and wife to fall ill. “Since you requested leave not long ago, I will extend it for another six months. Focus on managing the workshop and the academy. As for the Mystic Army, I will temporarily assign its command to lan.” Sophie’s expression flickered with a hint of surprise, though deep down, she wasn’t the least bit shocked. Before her audience with the king, Jacob had analyzed the situation for her. If Salvador suspected Rafael of treason, his first move would be to strip Sophie of her position as commander of the Mystic Army, severing any chance of internal and external collusion.
However, if Salvador merely inquired about Rafael’s condition without touching her rank, it would indicate he still trusted Rafael.
The surprise on Sophie’s face vanished as quickly as it appeared. She lowered her head and replied, “Understood. Thank you, Your Majesty, for your consideration.”
There was no resentment in her tone, no panic, and certainly no hint of guilt.
Salvador studied her for a long moment before finally saying, “You may leave.”
“I will take my leave, Your Majesty.” Sophie rose gracefully, her gaze as steady and unshaken as ever.
Outside the royal study, Derek stood with his hands at his sides, his posture stiff yet respectful. When he saw Sophie emerge, a faint trace of worry flickered in his eyes.
Sophie smiled at him, her expression calm and untroubled, before striding away without hesitation.
Derek let out a nearly inaudible sigh. Though he didn’t know where Rafael had gone, he was certain the prince harbored no ambitions of treason.
Salvador had often said this was a critical time when capable people were desperately needed. Yet, whether it was suppressing the Yuvan rebels or repelling Sandoria’s incursions from the Southern Frontier, he had never once considered using the Hell Monarch.
Derek still remembered Salvador’s words from a private conversation.
“Ambition grows over time, nurtured little by little. Even those who once had none may develop it after achieving great feats, like reclaiming the Southern Frontier. Gaining the people’s support can feed ambition.
Salvador had clearly been speaking about the Hell Monarch.
Derek sighed inwardly. A man with great talent became guilty by simply possessing it!
The Hell Monarch’s estate was now under surveillance, while Sophie carried herself with the relaxed air of someone unburdened by official duties. She made rounds at Skye Embroidery, visited Gracewood Women’s Academy to observe the students in class, and by evening, she was teaching martial arts. For two days, the watchful eyes on her noted nothing unusual.
But on the second evening, an urgent message arrived from the Southern Frontier. It was delivered first to the prime minister’s office and then passed into Salavdor’s hands by Jeremiah.
When Salvador read the contents of the secret report, he was thunderstruck. His mind went blank and his entire body froze in place.
For a long time, he stood there, unmoving. Then, all at once, he began trembling with rage.
“Oliver Prince!” he bellowed, his voice thundering through the halls.
The shout left him so shaken that his vision darkened and he nearly collapsed on the spot.
Within hours, the Ministry of Defense officials, the head of the Civil Department, two vice-ministers, and every court official of third rank or higher were summoned to the palace.
Davis had been dreading this moment. Though he knew Salvador’s distaste for the suggestion, he had repeatedly urged the king to send the Hell Monarch to the Southern Frontier to take command.
At the time, Salvador had rejected the idea outright, leaving Davis to focus instead on accelerating the production of the six-barreled matchlocks, ensuring at least a portion of the weapons could be delivered to the Southern Frontier.
Now, as Davis read the urgent report alongside the others, his blood surged hot with anger while his heart sank with icy dread.
Oliver had caused a catastrophe of unimaginable proportions!
The urgent sealed report stated that Oliver had abandoned his post before the battle. Rumors were spreading like wildfire across the Southern Frontier, shaking the troops’ morale. Desertions had begun, and even the soldiers who were originally stationed in the Southern Frontier were showing signs of unease and retreat.
Louis reported these things in the urgent sealed report, requesting the court to appoint a commander who could stabilize the situation. Without strong leadership, the loss of the Southern Frontier would not be an exaggeration.
Salvador’s face darkened as he scanned the room.
“Nominate a general to take command at the Southern Frontier,” he ordered coldly.
The gathered officials exchanged hesitant glances.