Above The Sky
Chapter 461 - 461 431 Words of the Former Emperor 13

461: Chapter 431: Words of the Former Emperor (1/3) 461: Chapter 431: Words of the Former Emperor (1/3) “You are smarter than I thought, and very well-measured.

Did Mr.

Silver Workshop teach you that?

The clothing suits you well, but I can tell, you’re the type who values practicality over aesthetics.”

Marquis Barton clapped his hands, and a maid brought over a document, which he casually signed: “Listen, Little Grant recommended you using his father’s remaining quota.

I initially did not want to accept it because that boy lacks any semblance of the temperament an Inspector Knight should have, so what kind of talent could he possibly bring forth?

I had my doubts.”

“Actually, if you ask me, Old Grant was so-so, besides his loyalty and combat skills, his mind really wasn’t much to speak of, but who made me fight alongside Old Grant back in the day?

It’d be difficult for me to refuse his son.”

“You are a pleasant surprise, Ian.”

With a casual flick, the lightweight document flew straight towards Ian, hovering in midair.

And the young man carefully lifted it up, then gently removed it from the ‘invisible wind pressure’ without causing any damage to the paper.

Marquis Barton seemed contemplative, then he smiled — he waved his hand to dismiss the maid.

The second document prepared was no longer needed.

“I already am?”

Scanning the content and signature on the document, Ian was genuinely surprised: “No assessments?

Or tests…?”

“Right after you left Harrison Port, you captured the special operations spy from Fiery Flame Land and exposed their biological warfare conspiracy.”

Marquis Barton shook his head: “After that, you killed the Sharp Claw Tiger, protecting Gold Leaf Town.

Soon after, you exposed the conspiracy in Leyan Territory — Labor was truly foolish.

Had he sought my help, wouldn’t I have assisted him?

He had to collude with the people from the Spirit Wisdom Institute, only to be bitten back in the end.”

“Especially since his son turned out to be the Chosen One…

Not reporting such a thing to me, what was he planning to do?

He died from his own greed, from his concealment, he never considered himself part of the Naling Nobility, or an Imperial person!”

Ian pretended not to hear that comment, put down the document, and took a bite of bear meat.

“Your merits are more than sufficient.

Register at the Capital Headquarters, and you will be an official Inspector Knight Apprentice.

Of course, becoming full-fledged will have to wait until you reach the Third Energy Level, which I estimate will take you no more than a dozen years.”

After ranting about Baron Leyan for a while, Marquis Barton concluded: “The Grant Family has always been lucky.

I said it when White Mist went to them, their family’s fortune is good, and now, you’re here.

He will fulfill his father’s wishes.”

“Later, I will prepare a new set of Armored Clothing and a Side Sword for you, then have you deliver a document to the Imperial Capital.

For now, continue eating.”

The General’s tone was definitive, with the last statement being the real point.

Ian narrowed his eyes slightly; he sensed a hint of danger — what kind of document would the Marquis have that he needed a First Energy Level to deliver?

There had to be some plan behind it.

But Ian was well aware; he lacked the right to refuse.

Moreover…

if it really was as he suspected, it might not be a bad thing after all.

“Being used as bait?

To lure a traitor or some other force?

That’s why he has been assessing my observation skills, wanting to make sure I can identify who it is when the time comes?”

Amused internally, Ian displayed just the right amount of hesitation, then asserted firmly, “I guarantee to complete the mission, General.”

Marquis Barton’s lips curled up; he nodded: “Very well.

Then continue eating.

“Don’t frown upon it, even Master Oak and the others don’t get to eat these game animals I’ve hunted myself.”

“Personally?” Ian was quite surprised, putting down his tea cup: “The game you hunted yourself?”

“Of course.”

Marquis Barton used his personal dagger to cut off a sizzling, juicy piece of roast beef brisket, then took a large bite: “Do you think…

this table is extravagant?”

Ian looked over the table, which was indeed stacked with a variety of ingredients, arrayed with an assortment of Magical Beast delicacies.

Not to mention, the plate of fresh fish slices was made from the flesh of the Sea Blue Marlin, with pure and nourishing Origin Quality, which wouldn’t cause mutations, and with an outstandingly delicious taste.

Such a small plate of fish slices was worth an ordinary person’s year of labour.

Luxury?

If measured by money, it simply couldn’t be more luxurious.

But if, say, these were all from a Sublimator’s casual ‘hobby hunting’ and the old man’s favorite ‘fishing’…

“Then it would indeed be quite the common dish.

Even a bit miserly and frugal,” he murmured.

“A Sublimator of the Third Energy Level eating these things is like children drinking honey water.

It’s merely for the taste…”

“Indeed.”

The old general continued eating nonchalantly as if he were a Black Hole, endlessly devouring the food on the table as well as the dishes continuously brought by the maid: “Some people think I eat too much and it’s too wasteful, but luxury has nothing to do with these things.”

“Look at this cow.” He lifted his hand, pointing to the beef brisket in front of him: “I hunted it in the mountains.”

“Then look at this bear paw, a menace to the townsfolk.

I saw it while taking a walk and killed it.”

“And this fish, honestly, after fishing for an afternoon and nearly going to the fish market in frustration, I eventually caught it.”

Marquis Barton was practically boasting as he showed Ian his game: “As a noble, you should not take from your domain residents, but give to them instead.”

“The Former Emperor once said, ‘Sublimators should not compete with the people for profits.’ I have always believed this to be true.

It is the greatest virtue of a noble, far more pragmatic than the slogan-like ‘protection’, ‘humility’, ‘compassion’—the world would be ten times more peaceful if only we Sublimators didn’t covet the commoners’ food and those trivial amounts of Bison and Talle.”

“The King…”

As Ian said this, he seemed to realize something and corrected himself, “The Former Emperor actually said something like this?

It sounds quite reasonable, but not very practical…”

“As a knight, you need to read more.”

Marquis Barton narrowed his eyes, staring at Ian, then nodded slightly: “And the truth is exactly that.

Over in Leyan Territory, Labor failed precisely because he entangled himself too deeply with ordinary people—he begged me for cloning technology and the help of a Spirit Energy User to help his Chosen One child undergo Soul Transfer into a new body.

How could I refuse to help him?”

“I would have helped him grandly, turning the matter into a sensation across The Empire…

He would have become the father of one resurrected from death, and I would have gained great fame.”

“What a pity,” the old general sighed.

“He didn’t do that.

Not only that, he also indulged in some pointless scheming…

Labor and the people at the Spirit Wisdom Institute are just too small-minded.”

“I don’t understand…”

A chill ran down his spine, and Ian dared not continue that sentence.

He had come to see that Marquis Barton, who appeared to be a stubborn soldier on the surface, was actually setting three traps with every word he spoke.

If Ian dared to respond, everything would be exposed!

Why was this man so adept at laying traps?

And did he suspect that Ian’s connection with the Head of the Spiritual Wisdom Institute and Baron Leyan’s death?

How did he come to that conclusion?

Ian couldn’t quite understand the issue, for Marquis Barton’s guesses lacked any logic.

According to conventional thinking, his own actions should never have been exposed.

Yet he knew by the reaction of the Frost Butterfly in his alchemy belt at his waist that even if he was indeed exposed, at most it would slightly erode Marquis Barton’s impression of him and wouldn’t actually lead to any serious consequences.

—Strange.

—Right, why is he discussing the virtues of nobility with me?

I’m clearly just a knight.

This subtle, incomprehensible, and even confusing atmosphere made the young man feel quite ill at ease.

But on the surface, he still pretended to be a normal knight, watching the old general with an expression full of caution, confusion, and incomprehension.

“It’s the same with Little Grant.”

Marquis Barton locked eyes with Ian, his gaze sharp and keen as if to see right into Ian’s heart: “If he really wanted to develop the Labyrinth for his own benefit, as well as that of his domain residents—he would have tightly held on to you, the ‘Master of the Labyrinth,’ as a trump card, instead of throwing you in front of me.”

“Unless it’s a subtle way of showing weakness…

but I don’t think Little Grant has the capability.”