Chapter 126: A Candid Encounter

Victor was enveloped by the warm, clear water, feeling so comfortable that he nearly moaned aloud. Since the outbreak of the ant plague sixty days ago, this was the first time he had set foot in a civilized land once more.

The return journey proved more arduous than he had anticipated. The knights of House York did not ride horses; to avoid the ant swarms, they chose treacherous, winding paths. It turned out that the knights’ stamina and speed surpassed that of ordinary warhorses, much to Victor’s distress. While his top speed exceeded that of a Silver-rank great knight, his endurance was only on par with that of an elite soldier.

Nicole was more than willing to carry Victor on her back, but he firmly refused. In front of the two ladies, Victor wouldn’t even allow Reno to bear him. Because of this burden, the group’s pace inevitably slowed.

Despite the hardships along the way, Victor enjoyed Nicole’s tender care to the fullest. She attended to him with the meticulous devotion of a maid. Bruce and Gris, two old acquaintances, paid no mind to their affectionate exchanges, but the great knight Trisely would occasionally glare at them with disapproval.

Through conversations with the York knights, Victor learned the full extent of the ant disaster. Nearly one hundred thousand ant-men had invaded the Centaur Hills. Only the baronial castles of Baron Eskri and Count Terlanden still resisted the ants. The other fortresses had either fallen or been abandoned. The entire population of over a hundred thousand in the Centaur Hills had been concentrated in Blackfort Town, and the Prince’s faction had completely withdrawn from the region.

Outside the Centaur Hills, only the domains of Count Chebman and Briat were locked in bitter battles with the ants. Other lords had adopted the same passive stance as Blackfort Town, refusing to fire a single arrow at the small ant groups, allowing them to ravage the crops unchallenged.

Victor was curious as to why the kingdom allowed the ants to run rampant without mounting a proper response. Bruce explained that the kingdom had indeed reacted. Princess Roland, the eldest princess, led the Order of the Glorious Knights deep into the eastern borderlands to deter the Landt Empire. The kingdom’s main forces moved north to garrison the Minsk fortress complex, guarding against opportunistic raids by the Durod Kingdom. Marquis Goron had arrived in the west with the Swift Dragon Knights but remained inactive. The lords neighboring the Centaur Hills resisted Marquis Goron’s summons while fawning over House York, sending gifts and favors. Their stance was clear—they had no desire to invite disaster upon themselves.

Victor understood that House York had secured the support of the western lords and thus gained the upper hand politically. Even the church lavished praise on House York, as Sylvia had sheltered over a hundred thousand refugees and preserved a thousand holy warriors. Victor also keenly sensed that the relationship between House York and Grand Duke Williams was more complicated than mere alliance; their refusal to cooperate with the Swift Dragon Knights was a telling sign.

After more than twenty days of travel with the York knights, Victor finally arrived at Blackfort Town. Upon arrival, accompanied by Bruce, he made a public appearance before his subjects and took residence at Rose Manor.

Before he could meet Lilia, Victor was led by attendants to the manor’s bathhouse to cleanse himself. He complied willingly; despite possessing the innate talent of Unseen Purity and having always maintained immaculate hygiene, a relaxing soak was a welcome respite for body and soul.

The bathhouse of Rose Manor was luxurious and comfortable, but Victor paid little attention to its exquisite decorations. Lying back in the tub with his eyes closed, he pondered how to negotiate with Sylvia.

In truth, Victor’s demands were modest. He hoped to complete his transformation into a commercial noble under House York’s protection and secure a substantial startup fund. His bargaining chip was the special brick manufacturing technology coveted by House York.

Victor did not believe Sylvia would harm him; she had always treated him with care and never shown malice. He acknowledged that this trust stemmed from their intimate relationship, and Sylvia held a special place in his heart. Moreover, any wise lord would not refuse such a modest request. Sylvia clearly possessed sufficient magnanimity and wisdom.

His sole concern was whether Sylvia’s power might be constrained by other members of House York. Leaving Nelson behind was a precaution against unforeseen circumstances. Regardless, as long as House York had not obtained the special brick technology, they had no reason to turn against him hastily. The longer time passed, the more formidable his strength would become. In just forty days, Victor had already amassed 80 alchemical militia. In half a year, their number would peak at around 800—not enough to challenge the entire Gambis Kingdom, but sufficient to crush any single lord’s faction.

Deep down, Victor did not wish to engage in a do-or-die conflict with House York. He was neither a mindless warmonger nor possessed of any foolish ambition to unify the human world. He only sought to leverage the legacy of the Alchemy Empire to forge a new endeavor, and the greatest value of the Seventh Alchemy Tower lay in creation, not destruction.

A delicate, snow-white foot slipped into the water, followed by a flawless, radiant calf. To Victor’s astonishment, Sylvia—completely unclothed—was already seated beside him.

Sylvia’s body was flawless and exquisite. Her alabaster, slender legs swayed gently in the clear water; her soft skin shimmered with a pearly luster. Above her full, rounded hips was a supple waist, and the two rosy peaks on her chest made Victor’s blood race.

Victor was intimately familiar with Sylvia’s exquisite form, but he was startled by her fiery red hair and the circle of dark crimson within her sapphire eyes. The dark red seemed to ripple like molten lava, brimming with overwhelming power. Victor’s eyes stung, tears welled up involuntarily, and he could no longer meet her gaze.

“Dear Victor, you don’t seem to like the way I look now,” Sylvia said softly, her voice laced with charm.

Her fiery hair gradually turned golden, and the dark crimson in her eyes faded, returning to a clear sky-blue.

“Feeling better now?” she asked as she reverted to her usual appearance, and the invisible pressure dissipated.

Victor forced a wry smile. “I always suspected House York had at least one Golden Knight. I didn’t expect it to be you.”

“If I hadn’t kept it from you, would you have been closer to me?” Sylvia whispered into Victor’s ear, her fragrant breath intoxicating him, loosening the tension in his stiff body.

“Why tell me now?” Victor asked, still uneasy. He had just felt a suffocating force emanate from Sylvia’s eyes—like an abyssal sea. Had he known she was a Golden Knight earlier, he might never have dared to get close to her under such immense pressure.

“To be honest with you,” Sylvia giggled.

It was an honest admission. Victor was speechless; he hadn’t expected Sylvia to choose the bathhouse as the place for their negotiation.

“Victor, you’ve never ceased to surprise me. From the confident way you swindled fifty thousand gold sols from me, I took an interest in you. Then, when you eagerly set out to expand your domain without knights or a castle, I thought your confidence was mere naivety. What surprised me most was that you persevered and managed your lands so well—labor points system, purple cane wine, snow sugar, brick kiln village—each accomplishment a delight. That’s why I allowed myself to become your lover. I long for the day you join my banner,” Sylvia breathed like a fragrant orchid.

Victor was silent for a long while before rasping, “So you never gave up on controlling me?”

“Dear Victor, you’re confident and clever but too immature—so immature that anyone could take advantage of you, like Count Chebman. As a lord, you can lack knights or a castle, but never influence. Lords have never been sentimental. I want to control you because if I don’t, others will devour you. If so, why not me? At least I will help you grow instead of leaving you with nothing,” Sylvia said frankly.

“And now? Because of that brick, because of that land, you’re no longer willing to let me be?” Victor gazed into Sylvia’s bright eyes and asked gravely.

“Victor, remember, it’s the ants destroying your lands, not me,” Sylvia scolded.

“Do you understand what that brick means? It means more castles, more fortresses, it means human territories can expand outward. It means I could keep the ants beyond the Centaur Hills, but for you, it spells disaster.

If you don’t deliver the bricks, I will withdraw from the Centaur Hills—but I won’t take you with me. We’re going to war with House August, and that war will crush you. Without our protection, how long do you think you can hold on alone?”

“Victor, I need those bricks. With them, I can defend the Centaur Hills, and you can secure your own lands,” Sylvia said softly.

“You… you don’t want my lands? Why?” Victor asked in shock.

Sylvia smiled sweetly, her long legs entwining around Victor’s body. “Because I like you very much. Is that answer satisfactory?”

The delicate touch warmed Victor’s heart. Initially intending to express disbelief, he instead muttered, “Half believe it.”

“How boring,” Sylvia pouted, though the corners of her eyes and brows still held a teasing smile.

“I don’t want all your lands, nor do I want you to become my vassal, but you must hand over the marshlands entrance territory to me. Also, the agreement on purple cane wine remains valid. Do you agree?”

“Can you tell me why?” Victor asked cautiously. He had been ready to give up the land, but Sylvia’s choice left him bewildered.

“Victor, I not only don’t want all your lands, I don’t even intend to claim Eskri’s territory. As for why, haven’t you made a similar choice before? The mountain dwellers’ camp against House Chebman. But I’m targeting House August,” Sylvia chuckled.

“A buffer zone?” Victor tested.

Sylvia nodded. “Yes. The Centaur Hills belong to Gambis. I don’t want to tear apart relations with House August. Unless absolutely necessary, House York prefers not to conflict with the royal family. Though they tried to suppress us, such matters don’t call for anger.”

“Sylvia, thank you,” Victor said sincerely.

Though ceding part of his lands to House York, they would shoulder the responsibility of building fortresses and defending against the ants. This was the best outcome for Victor, yet he had no intention of altering his plans.

“I have another question. Why are there such strict restrictions on the merchants’ caravans among lords?”

Sylvia looked at Victor with surprise. “You want to become a commercial noble?”

“Yes,” Victor nodded earnestly.

“Are the lords’ caravans truly merchant caravans or disguised armies? In the past, generals often disguised troops as merchants to launch surprise attacks on rival families. If you want to become a commercial noble, you really must avoid joining any faction! I understand now!”

“No wonder you didn’t want to be my vassal back then. You set up those specialized villages to transition into a commercial noble! You want to take revenge on Sophia’s guild for abandoning you by defeating them, don’t you? Ha! That’s fascinating—I look forward to that day.”

Sylvia laughed uproariously, her gestures lively. Victor was speechless for a moment before timidly asking, “I need a sum of money as capital.”

“Of course, I’ll support you. Now, kiss me.”

Before he realized it, Sylvia was lying upon him. Faced with her sparkling, inviting eyes and lips so near, Victor was utterly entranced.