A Morning of Revelation and Deception

After their morning exercise, master and servant made their way to the dining room for breakfast. Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, dappling the long table, lending an air of tranquility to the scene.

The old butler, Jean Leclerc, stood by, a smile of profound relief gracing his features as he watched them both raise their cups of milk. The young master’s transformation, coupled with Marianne’s burgeoning smiles, filled him with the conviction that hope had finally dawned upon their household.

Allen learned the day’s news from the butler: the Border Earl had, that very morning, decimated the pirates raiding the kingdom’s coast, achieving a decisive victory with zero casualties while rescuing the surviving villagers. His daughter, Livia, had displayed extraordinary valor in the battle, securing astonishing achievements. Already, nobles were eagerly discussing whether the Royal Family would bestow a title upon her. Of course, any such title granted by the Royal Family would be purely honorary; the kingdom had not enfeoffed a hereditary, land-owning peerage in over a century.

‘The news traveled so quickly?’ Allen mused, realizing that this speed of information dissemination aligned perfectly with the original setting. This era already boasted an official gazette system serving the monarchy, with royal couriers operating across the entire kingdom, capable of gathering firsthand intelligence at any moment. Concurrently, the kingdom possessed a highly developed postal network, ensuring remarkably efficient information transfer. Such splendid news of a royal triumph would naturally sweep through the Capital with great swiftness.

‘So, Livia went to war… no wonder she hasn’t called these past few days.’ The thought of Livia returning to the Capital, laden with military honors, stirred a flicker of anxiety within Allen. The Royal Family would undoubtedly host a triumphant ceremony, and the Stern family’s victorious return would utterly overshadow the de Lavals.

Allen had initially planned for his father to demand an exorbitant dowry, hoping to deter Livia. Yet, he knew deep down that given Livia’s relentless and fiercely determined nature, she would grit her teeth and agree, even if his father asked for a hundred thousand livres in dowry. Should such a scenario unfold, Livia and Allen would likely be locked in a battle to the death the moment they met…

‘Wait, why do I suddenly have such an ominous premonition? Father wouldn’t actually make such an outrageous demand to the Border Earl, would he? No, I must ask him as soon as he returns.’

The engagement between Allen and Livia was less a betrothal and more a declaration of duel, a ‘fight to the death within three seconds of meeting.’ The closer their next encounter, the closer Allen’s demise! He had to act quickly!

Sipping his fresh milk, Allen began to lament the underdeveloped entertainment industry of this era. A mere snippet of gossip in the morning was enough to fuel a full day’s salon for the nobles. If only he could read a newspaper each morning, peruse the Capital’s daily news, he might even stumble upon some business opportunities.

‘Wait… newspapers?’ Allen, a connoisseur of details, suddenly grasped something profoundly important: the Capital only had official gazettes, not public newspapers! Mass media in this world had yet to even begin! His eyes lit up; he had just discovered a way to break the deadlock!

The Capital’s economic prowess supported a sophisticated public education system, placing Lucien’s per capita literacy rate among the highest for its time. Citizens lived in an urban environment with limited leisure opportunities, and the era’s entertainment industry was utterly incapable of satisfying their intellectual and cultural needs. These spiritually hollow citizens were condemned to a decadent, listless existence, typically found either drinking and brawling or frequenting ‘public bathhouses.’

Allen aspired for humanity to enter the interstellar age, but merely elevating ‘hardware’ capabilities would not suffice. He also needed to raise the corresponding ‘software’—the cultural and intellectual infrastructure—to a modern standard. The people of this era needed to refine their minds and temper their bodies.

The literary genres currently available were limited and repetitive. Allen could easily establish various periodicals, publish books, and, with his knowledge far surpassing this era, launch a ‘dimensional suppression’ on this world utterly devoid of cultural and entertainment industries! ‘What kind of transmigrator would he be if he didn’t become a literary plagiarist!’ Every literate citizen was a potential client for Allen! How to improve the ‘software’ infrastructure? The answer lay before him.

Through the periodicals he founded and the books he printed, Allen could subtly reshape people’s thoughts. He would use the spirit of humanism to shake the unyielding foundations of feudal ideology, and he also intended to leverage fantasy literature to alter people’s perceptions of the world and enhance their imaginative faculties.

Homo sapiens distinguished themselves from their hominid brethren and established flourishing civilizations precisely because of their capacity for imagination. Before humanity ever built the first submarine, they had already imagined it! Every invention followed a process from imagination to theory, and then to practical application.

The Observer had erased humanity’s technology, but there was nothing to fear! Imagination was the genesis of scientific inquiry, and Allen had never intended to climb the technology tree alone. He would paint a blueprint of a future utopian society for all beings of this era, allowing them to envision what the world could become. This yearning for a better life would bring a dawn of hope to this stagnant age, and people would ultimately embark on a path to pursue truth.

To overturn the Observer’s chessboard, the first step was to popularize modern thought and scientific spirit among the populace! The benefits of developing the cultural and entertainment industries didn’t stop there; it could also drive rapid economic growth!

This era boasted a developed paper industry, yet its printing technology was relatively primitive, with most books still needing to be handwritten. Allen understood the principles of Gutenberg’s lead movable-type printing press; he wouldn’t need the Church’s assistance to spearhead a printing revolution himself. The immense consumption of periodicals and books would generate a staggering demand for paper, which in turn would create more employment opportunities and drive comprehensive development across the downstream industries.

Allen had no intention of monopolizing the entire industry. His goal was simply to expand the ‘cake,’ foster economic growth, and convert more people into his potential allies. As long as his cultural and entertainment empire grew sufficiently large, bringing substantial tax revenue to the Royal Family, then the de Laval family would become too big to fail!

Allen’s vision for developing the cultural industry would not only resolve the de Laval family’s debt crisis but also propel humanity towards significant progress. ‘Truly, I am brilliant! I, Allen de Laval, am absolutely a historically significant, genius villain!’

Allen intended to discuss his grand business scheme with his father upon his return. The only remaining question was how to secure enough time for the de Laval family to develop.

Just then, the dining room door burst open, and Anna, the gluttonous nun, strode in, carrying a person.

“Wow!” Anna exclaimed, her eyes gleaming as she spotted the refined bread the master and servant were eating. “That looks tastier than the cafeteria bread, doesn’t it? Can I have some?”

Marianne, as the head maid and Allen’s personal attendant, had no issue dining at the same table as him. As for ‘ordinary maids’ like Anna, they were relegated to the cafeteria, where the fare was naturally far inferior. It was a jest! She could bankrupt the de Laval family even by eating in the relatively inexpensive cafeteria; how could they possibly afford to feed her expensive noble meals every day?

Anna, however, was utterly unfazed by such differential treatment; she was perfectly content as long as she could eat her fill. It wasn’t that the Heretical Inquisition didn’t feed Anna, but Anna knew full well that her monstrous appetite was far from normal. If she gorged herself every day, wouldn’t that be committing the sin of gluttony? To avoid the judgmental whispers of her Inquisition colleagues, she had reluctantly subjected herself to a daily life of hunger.

Now, her hard times were finally over. Allen de Laval, the young master of the de Laval family, not only didn’t consider her a monster guilty of gluttony but even allowed her to eat her fill freely in his home! ‘Allen must be an incredibly, unbelievably good person! He’s an angel sent by the Lord to save her!’ How could such a benevolent soul be a heretic? Would a heretic ever be so kind as to feed her so generously?

If the Heretical Inquisition knew their pure nun had been bought off by Allen with a long-term meal ticket, they would likely be spitting blood in fury.

At that moment, Allen was more concerned with the man in Anna’s grasp, whose face showed utter despair. He was dressed in simple commoner’s clothes, which made him particularly conspicuous and suspicious in the aristocratic Upper City.

The old butler whispered, “Young master, should I notify the Inquisition or the guards?”

“No, no need,” Allen said with a dismissive wave and a smile. “Anna, what’s going on?”

Anna casually lifted the grown man over her head as if he were a toy. “This morning, when I went to throw out the trash, I saw him sneaking around, and he had a suspicious smell about him, so I brought him here.” Having explained, she looked at Allen expectantly, her eyes darting towards the bread, much like a golden retriever eager for praise.

“Well done! Sit down and eat!”

Allen chuckled. The naturally clumsy nun he’d ‘bought off’ with food yesterday had already performed a meritorious service today. ‘Expensive, perhaps, but worth it! An occasional meal with Anna wouldn’t cost much, and once the de Laval family prospered, treating her to grand feasts every day would be no problem at all!’

“Hooray!” Anna cheered, happily tossing the man aside, who immediately contorted his face into an expression of utter humiliation.

“Young master…” Marianne said, a sickly sweet smile gracing her lips as she looked at the suspicious individual. “Should we take him to the basement for interrogation? I still have my tooth-pulling pliers down there…”

Upon hearing ‘tooth-pulling pliers,’ the man’s face instantly turned ashen! ‘Did he not understand how terrifying that torture was?! This is horrible! What is wrong with this family?!’

“Girls shouldn’t be so bloody all the time,” Allen chided gently, magnanimously pulling the man to his feet. “Are you alright?”

“Where did your family find that super-strong woman… She’s terrifying…” the man muttered, still shaken.

While attempting to gather intelligence on the de Laval family, he had spotted this seemingly harmless red-haired maid taking out the trash and decided to approach her, intending to bribe her. He produced a sum that, for a maid, was enormous, yet she remained utterly unmoved, as if oblivious to the concept of money. It was only when he explained that the money could be exchanged for information about the de Laval family that the maid seemed to have an epiphany, easily subdued him, and dragged him directly into the de Laval estate.

Under the threat of Marianne’s torture, the spy confessed everything, and even Allen felt a pang of sympathy for the fellow. ‘It was clear he’d never played a classic RTS game; it’s common knowledge that certain units can detect stealth and counter espionage!’ ‘Anna truly is remarkable! I’ll have to treat her to more good food next time!’

“Have you had breakfast?” Allen asked with a smile.

“I haven’t, no… Eh?” The spy was utterly bewildered by Allen’s inexplicably friendly demeanor. He looked at Allen’s villain-esque, sinister smile and considered a desperate possibility. “‘This isn’t my last meal before execution, is it?'”

“Hey, don’t overthink it, buddy. You’re already here, what’s wrong with accommodating one more guest?”

Allen glanced at the butler, who nodded and went to arrange an extra meal.

The spy sat down, trembling with apprehension, like a prisoner awaiting their last meal. He cast a glance at Anna, who devoured her food like a whirlwind, then evaded Marianne’s dangerous gaze, finally settling on the composed Allen. ‘Why isn’t this young master asking who sent me?’ This left the lies he had carefully prepared stuck in his throat, a truly agonizing sensation!

Just then, the dining room door was abruptly flung open once more. Bernard de Laval, the Viscount who had been absent all morning, burst in, his face flushed with a mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration.

“Son!” Bernard’s voice boomed, imbued with an uncontrollable excitement. “Good news! I’ve contacted Archbishop Lucien for you! He’s replied and wants to speak with you personally tomorrow about your divine revelation!”

“Pfft—! Cough, cough, cough…” Hearing Bernard’s words, the spy instantly choked on his saliva, coughing violently enough to shake the room.

Bernard looked at him quizzically. “And this guest is…?”

Allen merely smiled. “Father, this is Crown Prince Charles Durand’s chief spy.”

“What?!” Everyone present (except Anna) gasped in shock. Having his true identity so casually exposed by Allen, Monsieur Spy experienced the true meaning of utter ruin for the first time!

Allen’s demeanor remained unchanged despite revealing the man’s identity. “You heard my father’s words, didn’t you?” he said elegantly to the spy.

Cold sweat streamed down the spy’s face. “You’re going to kill me, aren’t you? I shouldn’t have known such information.”

“I have no reason to kill you.” Allen’s gaze, for the first time in a while, sharpened into something alarming and terrifying. “Furthermore, I want you to return and inform the Crown Prince that while he has consistently tried to destroy the de Laval family, it is now time for him to choose a different target.”

“I know him well; he is a soulless political machine, driven by self-interest and a desire to avoid harm. Now, I can reveal some information that might interest you. Whether the Crown Prince believes it or not, I do not care.”

“My fiancée is Livia von Stern, the Border Earl’s daughter. She possesses an unparalleled, powerful emblem, and she has just achieved significant military merits, making her a rising star.”

“She ‘loves’ me to death; even if I were to demand a hundred thousand livres as dowry, she would agree. For a ‘love-struck’ maiden, what is defying the entire world for the ‘man’ she ‘likes’? Especially when she possesses the power to do so!”

“If the Crown Prince makes an enemy of us, he makes an enemy of Livia. You can go to the Border Earl’s estate and inquire if what I’ve said is true.”

“Furthermore, I received a divine revelation, eradicated cultists, and rendered great service to the Church. I am about to meet with His Grace, Archbishop Lucien, and I believe you understand the implications of that.”

‘How to feign great power—that’s a villain’s essential lesson.’ Allen’s blend of borrowed prestige and half-truths truly bluffed the spy.

“Also… you know about the mercenaries who blocked our gates before, don’t you?” Allen’s tone shifted.

The spy hesitated, then nodded.

“You know, and your master also knows. I suspect you’ve figured out that behind them was His Majesty,” Allen said calmly.

“His Majesty?!” Hearing the word “Majesty,” everyone listening (except Anna) involuntarily gasped. ‘The de Laval family was actually being targeted by the inscrutable King?’ Thunder and dew, both were gifts from heaven. Even if Louis XI had little presence, he was still the absolute authority of the Lorraine Kingdom!

The spy’s body began to tremble. “You… how do you know?”

“Why do I know? I’m asking myself the same question.” Allen’s sharp gaze seemed to pierce through everything. “What the old King is planning, perhaps the Crown Prince himself knows. He needs to focus his energy on dealing with his true enemies right now; there’s no need to waste time on the small de Laval family. Even a cornered rabbit will bite, won’t it?”

“The de Laval family comes from merchant stock, has no interest in politics, and merely wishes to remain neutral to earn money and repay debts. If the Crown Prince’s advantage is great enough, everyone will naturally support him; we are neither too much nor too little. Go back and tell the Crown Prince everything I’ve said. This is my olive branch. Of course, if you perceive this as a threat, I don’t care.” Allen’s expression turned cold. “If anyone wishes to be my enemy, whoever they may be, they will pay the price. Do not underestimate my methods. Perhaps I possess much information that Princess Charlotte would find interesting, information I have yet to reveal.”

“I understand. Thank you, Your Excellency Allen, I will relay your words to the Crown Prince.”

The spy committed these words to memory. Although his intelligence-gathering process was far from perfect, the outcome was extremely gratifying.

Amidst this tense confrontation, only Anna remained completely immersed in the joy of eating.

“Allen, I’m finished, is there any more?” she asked, unknowingly breaking the oppressive atmosphere.

Allen’s expression softened. He gestured to his father with a smile, saying, “Father, you should eat too. The cook is preparing extra. As for you, Monsieur Spy, you should finish your breakfast before you leave. The day is long, and an empty stomach will be uncomfortable.”

The spy never quite understood how Allen knew him. He agonized over it, constantly wondering if he had met Allen in the past. Of course, his line of thinking was flawed from the start. He had indeed met Allen, not in the past, but in the ‘future.’ This spy was actually a minor noble with a moderately powerful emblem bloodline, skilled in assassination, and quite formidable. Allen had crossed paths with him, which was why he remembered him so distinctly. Perhaps that was why Anna had detected his ‘suspicious smell.’

Allen was actually somewhat pleased to meet him again. He had just been pondering how to write a truce proposal to the Crown Prince, hoping to buy the de Laval family some time to develop. Now, just when he needed it most, the Crown Prince had conveniently ‘offered him a pillow.’ Such good fortune!

Allen’s threats were merely harsh words; he didn’t expect them to genuinely intimidate the Crown Prince. A meticulous individual like Charles Durand would undoubtedly investigate the veracity of his information. In doing so, he would fall into the trap Allen had deliberately laid: ‘You tell me, doesn’t Livia have a nearly obsessive ‘love’ for him?’

The Border Earl was a high noble personally recruited by the old King, and Livia was considered a national treasure highly valued by the King. On one hand, the King sent mercenaries to block the de Laval family’s gates, while on the other, he tacitly approved Livia’s engagement to Allen. The Crown Prince would surely find his father’s seemingly schizophrenic actions strange, and then fall into an endless chain of suspicion. The more he suspected, the less he would dare to move against the de Laval family.

This back-and-forth, even if Livia and Allen’s engagement eventually fell through, the time gained would be enough for Allen to persuade the Church to shelter the de Laval family. With the Church as his backing, what Crown Prince could he possibly fear?

Ultimately, Charles Durand was merely one of the heirs; the outcome of who would become king was still uncertain. Once Charles Durand discovered that the de Laval family was truly not to be trifled with, he would most likely abandon his previous relentless pursuit of them. If Allen’s plan truly succeeded, the de Laval family would gain a rare moment of respite!

Allen’s gaze towards the spy suddenly grew fervent. This unfortunate spy’s arrival at his home was truly an unexpected boon!

Monsieur Spy spent an unforgettable morning at the de Laval estate. Years later, he would still remember this day.

‘Indeed,’ he mumbled to himself, chewing on his bread, ‘the food at a noble house on the verge of bankruptcy really isn’t great!’