Chapter 79

Duke Carl Gosling.

Also known as the Black Lion of the Empire. He was a handsome man with long, flowing black hair and served as both an imperial diplomat and the head of the Empire’s embassy in Laurencia.

His hobby was listening to musical performances.

He was so devoted to his hobby that the musicians of the Laurencia Kingdom didn’t satisfy his tastes. He would go as far as inviting talented performers from the Empire.

The concerts held three or four times a week at the embassy had become something of a trademark.

Because it was a chance to flaunt his superior taste in the arts, the Duke didn’t mind when guests visited the embassy.

At least, that was true until just a couple of days ago.

“Your Grace, a guest has arrived.”

“Damn it, again? Who is it this time? Count Bonpelli?”

“Yes. He said he’s here to exchange pleasantries and also has an urgent matter to ask about.”

“Pleasantries? He was just here three days ago! And let me guess what this urgent matter is…how predictable. He wants to know who Nice Goodman is, doesn’t he?”

The Duke looked to his secretary as if seeking agreement, but instead of replying, the secretary simply gave him a pitying look.

Left with no one to vent to, the Duke could only mutter his frustrations into the air.

“Damn it, who the hell is this Nice Goodman or Nice Goodjob or whatever? I don’t know either, so tell them to stop asking me! In just the past two days, over a hundred and fifty people have come to me asking about that name!”

Once again, Carl shot a fiery glare at his secretary, and the secretary reluctantly played along.

“You must be having a rough time, Your Grace.”

“Hoo… Starting today, no more visitors. And put up a notice saying we have absolutely no connection to Nice Goodman.”

“I’ve already been telling everyone the same thing, but no one seems to believe it. They keep saying after everything they’ve done to promote friendship with the Empire, it’s hurtful to be treated this way.”

“Idiots! Promoting friendship, my ass. All they ever do is party with women and drown themselves in booze!”

“And there is someone here who used to enjoy hanging out with them.”

“What?”

When the Duke shot him a glare, the secretary quietly looked away, pretending not to notice.

Carl cleared his throat and said,

“When dispatched to a foreign country, respecting its culture and customs is a fundamental virtue for a diplomat. All my socializing was part of managing relationships, nothing more.”

“Of course. But I wonder if your fiancée back home would see it that way?”

“Silence. Unless you want a pay cut.”

“Yes.”

A moment later, the secretary muttered under his breath with clear disapproval,

“Such a shame… His Grace really does have a perfectly handsome face.”

“It may surprise you, but the fact that I’m handsome is already well-known around the world. Don’t you have any better flattery than that?”

“Why is it that every good-looking man seems to be obsessed with chasing after women? That famous Baron Winslet, for example. Same with you, Your Grace.”

“What?”

Duke Gosling exploded at the secretary’s remark.

“Let’s make proper comparisons, shall we? That Baron Winslet guy….didn’t he get caught cheating with forty women at once and ended up getting slapped at a party? Honestly, I’m way better than that clown. Don’t you think?”

Haah.

The secretary let out a tired sigh.

Looking wronged, the Duke protested.

“But why am I suddenly the one being attacked? The real problem here is that our embassy’s operations are being paralyzed because of this guy called Nice Goodman.”

This so-called Nice Goodman who claimed to be a spy for the Empire was causing a stir in the royal capital. A few days ago, he had allegedly unleashed a lightning strike that ravaged the slums.

That much, Duke Gosling had learned from the countless visitors to the embassy over the past three days.

Every single one came in either issuing veiled threats as if they already knew everything, fishing for answers under the guise of friendliness, or outright warning him that no one could get away with something like this.

For the completely clueless Duke Gosling, the whole ordeal was maddening.

“This morning, the Director of the Laurencia Public Safety Bureau personally came to warn me, you know?”

“You mean that mad dog from Public Safety?”

“Yes, Director Bo Pilar. Do you know what he said to me? ‘If this kind of activity continues in Lambart, don’t expect things to end well’.”

“But under international law, diplomats have immunity, right? What, is he threatening to have you expelled?”

“Unless they’re planning to go to war with the Empire, they wouldn’t dare. But instead of targeting me directly, he made it clear they could easily go after someone else.”

“You don’t mean… me? The young and beautiful secretary. The very brain and heart of the Imperial Embassy…”

Duke Carl Gosling cut him off, as if to say, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Not you. I’m talking about the musicians I brought from the Empire! Since they can’t touch me due to diplomatic immunity, they’re threatening to arrest the performers I invited on spying charges instead.

In fact, this morning, when the musicians came to prepare for the concert, the city patrol seized their instruments, cases and all, right at the embassy gates. Claimed it was a ‘security check’.”

“Ahh, so that’s why there was no concert today. I thought maybe Your Grace had finally gone deaf from all the noise…”

“What did you say?”

“I said we must file a formal protest with the Laurencia royal family and demand the harshest punishment for that insolent Director Pilar who dared bare his fangs at the esteemed representative of His Imperial Majesty.”

“Now that’s the kind of talk I like to hear. Keep that attitude.”

“Yes, sir.”

“In any case, thanks to this so-called Nice Goodman, the Laurencia Public Safety Bureau has begun closely monitoring our every move.”

“It’s frustrating, really. We haven’t even done anything yet.”

“Exactly! We haven’t even done anything yet!”

Now, if someone were to ask whether the Empire had no ulterior motives toward Laurencia, that wouldn’t be true either.

Duke Carl Gosling and his aides had absolutely considered unauthorized spying activities within Laurencia.

Projects like stealing the magic technology that Karaf had transferred to Laurencia or poaching talent from among Laurencia’s skilled population.

It was just that… things were still in the planning phase. Nothing had actually been set in motion yet.

But with the sudden appearance of this impostor calling himself Nice Goodman, Laurencia’s intelligence bureau had begun to suspect them.

Like a cow stumbling backward and accidentally stepping on a rat—

And from the rat’s perspective, it was just plain ridiculous.

“Thanks to all the things the Empire has actually done, now even some random dog or pig can impersonate the Empire and we can’t even properly deny it.”

“Well, I guess you’d call that karma.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask. Whose side are you even on? Did you become my secretary just to get on my nerves, huh?”

“Please stop yanking your hair like that. At this rate, you’ll go from the Black Lion Duke to the Bald Duke.”

“Give me the disease and then sell me the cure, huh?”

“Here, have a glass of cold water and try to calm down.”

The secretary poured him a glass with a straight face, and Duke Gosling gulped it down without another word.

“You’re right. I can’t just keep throwing a tantrum about how unfair it is. His Imperial Majesty didn’t send me here to act like that. First, let’s lay out what we do know for sure.”

“What would that be?”

“Nice Goodman isn’t one of ours.”

“That’s an undeniable fact, no matter who you ask.”

“I’ve never had an agent by that name, and they say this Nice Goodman wiped out the slums with lightning magic last weekend, right? If the Empire did have a mage that powerful, they would’ve been promoted ahead of me a long time ago.”

“Well, maybe not to that extent… but the entire continent knows the Empire suffers from a chronic shortage of mages.”

“Exactly! Everyone knows that. So why would those Laurencia Intelligence rats shamelessly claim that Nice Goodman is one of our agents?”

“Hmm, Duke, would you like to hear one of my brilliant ideas?”

“If it’s lousy, I’ll cut your salary by ten percent. If you’re confident, then speak.”

“Nice Goodman might not be a real person at all.”

“A fabrication, created out of necessity?”

“Yes.”

“Interesting thought. I won’t cut your salary, so go on. Who do you think came up with this fictional figure called Nice Goodman?”

“The Laurencia Intelligence rats.”

“The same ones who demanded we hand over Nice Goodman?”

“Yes. In other words, it’s a setup. Laurencia staged the whole thing to restrain our spying activities.”

“Now that you mention it, the name Nice Goodman or whatever it was did first come from the mouths of their Intelligence Bureau.”

“Exactly. That’s it.”

“To curb the Empire’s operations, and at the same time, drop some lightning and clear out the slums. It’s entirely plausible. But there’s a problem with your theory.”

“And what would that be?”

“That lightning spell that wiped out the entire slum….do you think mages capable of such power are common in this world?”

“But doesn’t Laurencia have Court Mage Wendrick?”

“Wendrick has been in seclusion for two years now due to old age. The Laurencia royal family may want to hide it, but everyone already knows.”

“Then who could’ve cast that lightning spell?”

“…Karaf.”

“Karaf?”

“They’ve been our traditional enemies. Even though we maintain limited exchanges through Laurencia as a neutral ground, Karaf surely want to prevent the Empire’s influence from growing there.”

“Then you’re saying the Laurencia royal family and Karaf joined hands?”

“It’s only a hypothesis, of course.”

“This just gets better and better. The Empire even agreed to provide Karaf with that item, and this is how they stab us in the back.”

“That’s how the world works. Don’t forget… we may not have drawn swords, but we’re already at war.”

Duke Carl Gosling clapped his hands sharply to refocus the room.

“Now then, if we know the enemy’s intent, it’s time to act. Shouldn’t we send someone to the Karaf embassy?”

“And what exactly would we ask them? Something like, ‘Excuse me, do you happen to know Nice Goodman?’ Like that?”

“Of course we’ll probe them in secret! Be as persistent and irritating as they’re being with us right now.”

“But the Karaf mages hate us. They’ll probably slam the door in our faces.”

“So use your head, will you? Your head. There’s nothing to gain by sending our own people directly, so we’ll outsource it.”

“Outsource…?”

“Yes, someone like Baron Winter Winslet. He’s kept a fairly good relationship with us, hasn’t he? And since he studied magic in Karaf in his youth, their mages won’t be wary of him.”

“Ugh, so I’m stuck dealing with that obnoxious womanizer again. If you’re going to keep dumping this kind of work on me, at least raise my salary.”

“Earn it first before you say that. Now get moving! We don’t have time to waste!”

“Your Grace.”

“You still haven’t left?”

“It’s time for me to clock out.”

“….…”

Duke Karl Gosling rubbed his face with both hands and muttered:

“This weekend, go into the city and do some shopping for clothes. Put it on my account.”

“I’ll do my very best. Serving the nation really is in my blood.”

And so, the small spark ignited by Nice Goodman was already shaking both the light and shadow of the royal capital of Lambart….from the Laurencia royal family to the intelligence agencies of foreign powers.