Chapter 78 After

It's getting late.

In the noble district of Eagle City, inside the regent's residence, Duke Byron was looking at a dagger in his hand.

This is a refined weapon, with a blade as thin as willow leaves and very sharp. Even if it is not made by a famous craftsman, it is at least a good work. The part of the blade of the dagger that is not stained with blood has a faint green color, which is incompatible with the metal material, which means that there is probably some poison on it.

But Duke Byron is not actually looking at the dagger itself, but the dry blood on the dagger. It was his son's blood.

There was an unexpected situation. Not long ago, Duke Byron was still proud. He avoided the clamping of his old opponent, replaced his own people in the position he had coveted for a long time, and cleaned up the entire Eagle City, and pulled up all the hidden stakes set by his opponent. If politics is compared to a chess game, then he now has a huge advantage and is only one step away from victory.

But now, before the joy and excitement in his heart had faded, he received the news of his son's death.

All this shouldn't have happened. In Eagle City, he should be powerful, and who dares to provoke him? Even General Rafa, his political enemy, would not use this method to attack him. Because once he broke up, he would have more means and methods to fight back. Of course, there was another last little trouble, that is, his son was not a sensible person. It is precisely because of this that he arranged four loyal and reliable bodyguards around his son, each of whom was a veteran of all kinds of battles.

But now, his son is dead. The cause of death is that a dagger penetrates his chest. All four bodyguards died on the spot, and they all die miserably.

Byron finally took his sight from the dagger. "What happened?" he asked the messenger who brought him bad news. His tone was very calm and casual, as if he was ordering the chef to make him a snack. But it was this calmness and casualness that made people feel panic, just like the inevitable calmness before the storm.

"...This...According to our inquiry... Young Master... He and his people suddenly blocked a passerby..."

"A passerby?" Byron repeated this sentence and nodded slightly.

"A man who looks like a bard is followed by a little girl." The messenger replied frightenedly. "And for some reason, the young master ordered a move...and..."

"Don't tell me that the bard killed everyone alone." Byron asked calmly, or in other words, calmly. His tone scared the unlucky messenger to tremble.

"...It's true...so..." The messenger finally said it out after much effort.

"You mean, a man who looked like a bard had an argument with my son. Then he killed my son and four guards. Is that what he meant?"

"…is…is…is, Lord Duke."

Byron actually waved his hand and signaled the other party to retreat. The messenger was as if he was pardoned and quickly left. After he left, Byron suddenly leaned back on the back of the chair and let out a long sigh of unknown pain or anger. In the eyes of his followers next to him, the regent seemed to have become ten years older in one second.

After a long time, Byron finally sat upright again.

"Tell them," Byron said to a person around him. "I want to know as soon as possible who the man who killed my son was, where he came from, where he is now, and why he did it."

The subordinate owed his body and expressed his acceptance of the order. He left immediately, so now the only Duke Byron is left in the room.

"Rafa...is it you?" Byron picked up the dagger again while he was talking to himself. When he was talking to himself, there was no sadness in his eyes, only terrifying brute force and cruelty. "No...I would rather believe it is not you...who is that? Does anyone think this will prevent me from getting this country?"

He grinned. When he smiled, he could not see the kind face of the "old grandfather next door" on his face, but instead he was as hideous and terrifying as an evil ghost.

...

Win! I won! I won! I won! Nighthawk pressed his chest hard. Even now, his heart was still pounding. In fact, he couldn't believe that things would go so smoothly, that simple. He was ready for whatever, but in fact, there was no trouble at all. Everything was developing step by step, just as simple as the stories in the book, and it was as smooth as the stories in the book.

It was really perfect, or he was really too favored by the gods. Nighthawk's mind was filled with all kinds of fantasies at this moment, one of which was to donate a large sum of money to the church and ask them to erect a large stone tablet with the words "A lucky person thanks the gods for their favor."

Byron Little was dead. However, the Duke of Byron could not give up his previous plan. In this way, the only thing he could do was to choose someone who could replace Byron Little. And who is more suitable for this position than Nighthawk? Just a simple legal procedure is required to recognize Nighthawk as his legal heir. All the troubles, difficulties, and all the visible and invisible obstacles that Nighthawk encountered in the past will disappear.

Whenever he thinks of these beautiful futures, Nighthawk can't control the ecstasy in his heart. He waited for so long, endured for so long, and worked hard for so long, and finally waited for his own beautiful tomorrow. Soon, he was able to be proud, put on luxurious clothes, and live a truly upper class life with those nobles, instead of staying in this underground world and enduring time in murder, betrayal and gang wars.

Someone knocked on the door. "Boss, are you here?"

"I'm here, what's the matter?" Nighthawk answered alertly. By the way, although the dawn was right in front of him, he could not relax in the last period before dawn. He could not make any mistakes at this time! Things were not so fast, and he still needed some patience... very little patience. He had been waiting for a long enough time and put in enough effort, and he would never fall to one step away from success.

"Someone sent an urgent letter here." said the subordinate at the door.

"Put the letter through the crack of the door." Nighthawk said. He could not see anyone yet, because he could not control his inner excitement. If he was seen, he would definitely attract unnecessary attention. During this sensitive period, he had to pay attention to all details, no matter how small it was.

The letter was stuffed in. Nighthawk immediately opened the letter and began to read it. As expected, it was written to him by Duke Byron (or a subordinate of the Duke) and asked him to immediately investigate the identity of a mysterious man. Of course, Nighthawk didn't even need to look at the specific descriptions to know who Duke Byron was looking for.

At the end of the letter, the person who wrote the letter asked him to perform the task as soon as possible in a very unceremonious tone. He also arrested it as an emergency task above all else.

Humph, soon, no one dared to talk to me or write a letter in this tone. Nighthawk snorted, and then carefully read the letter from head to toe again.

What should I do? I wrote a report to "I have tried my best to find it, but there are too few clues and I can't find the target", or tell the other party's true identity? Both choices seem to be irrelevant, because after all, Nighthawk himself did not show up in the whole matter, and no one knew his existence - the only little Byron who knew had already gone to see the gods.

He pondered for a while, after all, there were few clues provided in the letter, only saying that it was a man who looked like a bard and was following a little girl. Such people could easily find a hundred such people in the Eagle City. If he quickly found the real answer, it would arouse unnecessary suspicion. Besides, after such a thing, he was sure that the little queen had retracted back to the palace and would never come out to wander around again in the short term.

At this critical moment, it is better to be low-key. It was originally a matter of finding a person in such a big city to find a needle at the sea level, and it was normal to not find it. Even if you are "not good at doing things", you will only be scolded for at most.

After his idea was settled, he threw the letter aside and returned to the bed. He should have a sleep, but his mind was so excited that this originally simple thing became almost impossible.

...

"I killed someone..." The little girl lay in the quilt and muttered to herself softly.

Over the past period of time, she has seen many dead people. But seeing is one thing, and doing it yourself is another. There seems to be that feeling in her hand, the blade piercing the flesh and blood and reaching the depths. Although things are not as frightening as she thought, they are indeed offensive.

"Ashu Rufate," she cried softly.

"Your Majesty, is there anything wrong?" The voice of Ash Rufate came from outside the bedroom. Her personal guard was standing guard. For some reason, after hearing this voice, she suddenly felt much more at ease.

"I can't sleep a little...will there be any problem? I forgot to put the dagger..."

"Don't worry." Ashrufate's voice came from outside. "The dagger over there is nothing, it's just something I picked up. You can't track down anything with that thing. If you lose it, you will lose it."

"Can you... tell me a story?" the little girl asked softly. "Come in first."

The door of the bedroom was pushed open from outside, and Ashu Rufate walked in. His armor was bathed in the moonlight cast from outside the door, and it looked shining.

"Sorry, your majesty, I'm not a storyteller," said Ashu Rufate.

"Just tell a story. I... just want to see you, so that I can feel at ease..." She said softly. Why do you say such words? She doesn't know. A queen should maintain the queen's dignity in front of her subordinates! Who said these words? It seems that Jana said. But since Jana is not here, she can ignore these rules and regulations for the time being and say what she wants to say.

"The feeling of killing is very bad. Can you not sleep?" Ashu Rufate seemed to be laughing. Is it a ridicule? "Actually, you did a good job. The attack was very accurate and hit the heart. One attack was fatal. This is also the key to the battle, which is to try not to leave the opponent the opportunity to counterattack."

"There are some story books there, can you read a story?" the little girl begged. Ashu Rufat picked up a book as he said. He seemed to have a very keen night vision ability, and he could even read it effortlessly at night. Is this also a training process?

"…Long time ago…” Ashu Rufat began to read aloud, and like in the morning, his reading sound was dry.

"Wait, sit closer." The little girl asked. "Read to me at the head of my bed."

She closed her eyes. In fact, she was not listening to the story, but the sound of Ashu Rufate reading. This sound made her feel at ease, and all kinds of uneasy distracting thoughts dissipated. Soon, sleepiness enveloped her mind.
Chapter completed!