Hugo reassigned the investigator in charge of Leonardo’s interrogation. He also formally designated Leonardo as a person of interest limited to the Frost Territory incident and acknowledged his contributions to resolving the case.
Suspicion remained regarding his potential involvement in the Delberg Merchant Group grand master's escape, but due to a lack of solid evidence, the charges were not pursued.
In line with that, Hugo and Flynn refrained from mentioning the scent of seawater they’d detected on Tergio during their time in Frost Territory—as though they’d silently agreed to keep that detail between them.
Instead, they issued investigation directives focused on the Delberg Merchant Group’s method of “cutting off the tail.”
Having handled an overwhelming number of tasks, Hugo spent the night at the Council and managed only a short nap in the break room behind the Commander’s office. It wasn’t until the afternoon of the following day that he was finally able to leave work.
The carriage he rode had just exited through the eastern gate of the Imperial Capital, following several intermediate portals linked from the Council’s main gate.
The eastern gate, unusually crowded with security personnel, signaled its intent with sheer numbers. The capital guards stationed there saluted the passing carriage bearing the Agrizendro family crest. The implication behind the excessive security was unmistakable—and unpleasant.
Before long, the carriage entered a forested path flanked by tall, narrow trees stretching skyward.
Sunlight filtered intermittently through the dense canopy, and a cool breeze drifted through the lush woodland. With no other carriages or travelers in sight, the wide road ahead was peacefully quiet.
The Agrizendro family’s white carriage continued down the serene forest path before swiftly vanishing into another portal set into an intermediate gate.
This time, rather than forest, they emerged into a bustling urban district filled with tall buildings and commercial activity. Still, it felt distinctly different from the downtown of the Imperial Capital.
If the capital’s architecture was a showcase of opulence and grandeur, the buildings here leaned toward refinement: predominantly white, navy, blue, or light gray, with a majestic scale that conveyed sophistication and composure.
Instead of vivid colors, these grand structures were adorned with delicate carvings and precise, symmetrical patterns etched into their stone facades.
Above the skyline, the flags of the Raina Logia Empire fluttered—the golden sun framed between a red left and a navy right. Alongside them flew the Agrizendro family banner: a silver sword and shield emblazoned on navy blue.
This land bordered the Imperial Capital and spanned an area three times its size.
It was also the empire’s largest territory, stretching from the northeast to the southeast of the capital, and served as the second-largest civilization hub after the Imperial Capital itself.
Praised for its cool, comfortable climate year-round, it boasted a larger population than the capital. Once a powerful grand duchy, it had since been absorbed and reduced to a mere duchy—but its unique administrative structure and culture remained remarkably intact.
Its former name had been Sanctus Logia, also known as Holy Logia. These days, few still referred to it as such.
Now, it was simply called the Agrizendro Territory.
The Agrizendro family had long sworn loyalty to the imperial household. They upheld the monarch’s authority and had always served as a pillar of the imperial faction. One of only two ducal houses in the empire, they remained deeply intertwined with the throne.
And Hugo Agrizendro, the man bearing that distinguished name, was the young Duke of Agrizendro—known across Raina Logia as the Empire’s Sword and the Commander of the Central Branch of the Council.
Raina Logia was a deeply centralized empire, built around a powerful emperor. Every law implemented by the central government under the imperial household stemmed either from the emperor himself or from the advisory body serving him. Although a separation of powers existed in theory, in practice, the emperor was the heart of it all.
In effect, the emperor was the law. This left little room for aristocratic forces to challenge him, and so noble status—outside the imperial line—had diminished in significance over time.
Because of this, the boundary between commoners and nobles had grown blurred. Even within the Council, it was not uncommon to see commoners and nobles working side by side, free of class distinctions.
Still, the class system had never been abolished.
The noble class remained, with many of its customs and privileges intact. Seasonal balls and private gatherings were still held behind closed doors, and nobles retained their old hierarchies, however obscured.
Commoners were still expected to show respect to nobles, live within their territories, and—while casually mingling with lesser nobles—continued to admire their lives.
In politics, the upper ranks were still dominated by the nobility, limiting upward mobility for commoners. Consequently, the economic sector, too, came under noble control, with most major business ventures established by noble families.
Status might have faded—but it was far from gone.
In such a world, the title of duke carried many meanings. Hugo enjoyed wealth and power, but bore a proportional duty to remain loyal and useful to the empire.
Though he’d chosen to join the Council, it was common for noble sons to take roles in government, and Hugo’s participation was viewed as a natural extension of tradition.
Yet unlike most nobles, Hugo actively performed the Council Commander’s duties, even handling harsh assignments himself—including remote missions. This was done not merely out of loyalty to the empire, but also to solidify his own standing.
For although he held the ducal title, Hugo’s footing within the divided Agrizendro family remained precarious.
And so, after his grueling mission in Frost Territory pursuing Leonardo, Hugo returned to his domain for the first time in some time. He, too, was fatigued by the unexpected journey and battles—but rest wasn’t an option. The workload awaiting him was immense.
Passing through yet another portal, his white carriage finally approached the grand gate of the Agrizendro estate. From the distant watchtower, guards recognized the carriage and began to open the towering gates.
Beyond the gates lay a straight, meticulously kept road. Another massive iron gate soon parted, and the main mansion—its scale rivaling that of the imperial palace—came into view.
Ahead, the household staff of the ducal estate had assembled to welcome him. Yet compared to the sheer scale of the mansion, they looked no larger than ants.
The estate, blending navy, silver, and white, resembled a temple more than a home. Intricate reliefs and carvings covered the facade in dense, symmetrical detail. White statues surrounded the structure, each in a different pose, yet somehow uniform in their cold elegance.
As the carriage came to a stop, an attendant stepped forward and respectfully opened the door. From within, the Duke of Agrizendro emerged—clad in the white uniform of the Council.
“Master, welcome back.”
As Hugo stepped out, the servants lined up along both sides bowed deeply.
He gave them a short nod, accustomed to such greetings, and moved briskly toward the mansion’s central entrance. The butler, attendants, and his personal knights followed in step behind him.
Inside, the entrance opened into an immense hall. At its center stood a grand staircase, and above it hung a massive portrait unmistakably declaring the identity of the household’s master.
The dark navy hair of the young duke gleamed in the painted light, radiating quiet command.
Thick, elegant brows sat above a slightly prominent brow line. Beneath them, shadowed eyes glowed with a serene blue—clear and deep as the sea.
A tall, straight nose, cleanly shaped lips, and a strong jawline completed a face that was undeniably handsome.
After casting a fleeting glance at the portrait of himself, Hugo removed his cloak and outer jacket, handed them to a waiting attendant, and ascended the stairs. Among the many butlers, one clearly of the highest rank followed closely and asked,
“Master, have you eaten?”
“Not yet. I’m too busy. Let’s address the urgent matters first. What of the tasks I assigned before I left?”
“I had the designated vassals handle what they could, but several matters still await final approval. And some of those...”
“The Grand Madam must’ve taken care of them.”
“...Yes, that’s correct.”
Hugo entered the office without pause, continuing to listen to the report as if it were routine. As expected, paperwork was stacked high on the desk like a mountain. The moment he sat down in the office chair and removed his gloves, one attendant took them while another silently poured tea into the prepared teacup.
The Grand Madam Hugo had mentioned was a prominent member of the Council’s Upper House and a «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» relative of his—an aunt of the previous Duke of Agrizendro. She wielded considerable influence within the family.
Unhappy with Hugo inheriting the title, she had deliberately pushed him toward Council duties, using it as an excuse to keep him away from directly managing the family’s territory.
According to Agrizendro family custom, if the duke was absent, authority would pass to the next most legitimate member of the family. That person was currently the Grand Madam.
The butler handed over the documents he was holding and said to Hugo:
“Will there be no long-distance trips for a while?”
“Well, nothing’s certain yet.”
“Then how about scheduling the vassal meeting after you finish your Council workload?”
“No, we need to move quickly—tomorrow, if possible. Judging by how they rushed my return over the peninsula issue, I suspect I’ll be called away again soon.”
Hugo responded while flipping rapidly through the files and asked:
“How are the financial statements related to the new business the family is pursuing?”
“I’m compiling them separately. I’ll have them finished and placed on your desk in time for you to review after your meal.”
“Good. I’ll leave it to you.”
Just then, hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway. Someone rushed to the office door, shoved an arm into their jacket, smoothed out their clothes, and knocked. Without glancing up from the documents, Hugo said:
“Come in.”
The door opened, and Flynn entered, slightly out of breath and dressed as an attendant.
“Hah... Sorry. Council work ran late, so I...”
The head butler beside Hugo gave Flynn a disapproving look, clearly unimpressed by his lack of decorum. Flynn offered an awkward smile. A moment later, several documents in front of Hugo floated into the air and settled neatly on a side table.
Hugo removed the glasses he’d been wearing for paperwork, rubbed his strained eyes, and addressed Flynn.
“Everything’s already sorted, but review the key items once more.”
“Yes, sir!”
Flynn answered with energy, settled into the sofa in front of the table, and put on glasses meant for speed-reading. Grabbing a pen, he quickly began going through the documents.
Hugo signed several urgent items and handed them to the head butler standing beside him. The butler bowed in acknowledgment and exited the office with the other attendants.
Flynn served as adjutant to the Commander of the Council and was one of Hugo Agrizendro’s closest aides.
He’d spent his early years in an orphanage, where Hugo had encountered him and brought him into the Agrizendro household. There, Flynn learned to serve and work under Hugo’s guidance. Though Hugo gave him the freedom to choose his path, Flynn chose to join the Council to become Hugo’s right hand.
Since then, they’d spent many years together, with Flynn acting as a kind of secretary.
Within the estate, Flynn’s main role was assisting with territorial matters, and the head butler had his eye on him as a future candidate for that very position due to his quick grasp of duties and remarkable processing speed.
Though his responsibilities were nearly on par with that of a full butler, Flynn also worked for the Council, which made it difficult to serve both roles simultaneously. For now, he remained an administrative attendant.
A calm silence filled the office. Other than the occasional appearance of butlers delivering paperwork or servants passing by, only the sound of turning pages and pens scratching across paper could be heard.
After a long while, Flynn lingered on the final document, blinking as if the numbers were making his eyes blur. He drew a thick underline beneath a particular entry, stood, and walked it over to Hugo.
“Master, do you recall the orphanage for Bermuda natives at Allender Castle? It received another anonymous donation—three million bells.”
“Three million bells?”
Hugo, still wearing his reading glasses, rubbed his eyes again and repeated the amount.
“Yes. And the Bermuda-native orphanages in Parlo Castle, Iberisk Castle, and Horn Castle each received anonymous donations of two million bells. The Bermuda Education Foundation also received five million.”
“It’s been three months already?”
“Yes, exactly.”
For the past several years, someone had been anonymously donating large sums to facilities related to Bermuda natives every three months.
Though similar trends in other territories were unclear, the donations here consistently focused on orphanages within the Agrizendro domain.
At first, attempts had been made to identify the donor, but their explicit desire to remain anonymous left no option but to continue accepting the funds quietly.
“To make such regular, large donations... Who could it be?”
“It’s rare for someone to give away that much of their own money. If we ever learn who it is, I’d like to give them a commendation. But it seems they don’t want one.”
“Given they focus solely on Bermuda-related facilities, they must be from Bermuda too, don’t you think?”
“Yes, most likely.”
Flynn handed over the marked document. Hugo took it and skimmed the contents. The donation had been made just yesterday.
As a Bermuda native himself, Hugo had ensured that his territory offered more protections and services for his people than anywhere else. Among those, childcare facilities that cared for displaced Bermuda natives were particularly vital.
What stood out, however, was that these donations weren’t funneled through organizations. The donor personally delivered sacks of money to each institution. While undeniably secure, it also meant the donor didn’t trust the charitable groups affiliated with the orphanages.
Given the targeted donations, it was reasonable to assume the donor was a Bermuda native. For a moment, Hugo recalled a certain someone—a young man who once said no one could protect him but himself.
That man who trusted no one. Just like Hugo’s past self. Just like this anonymous donor, who distrusted donation agencies.
“...Why are Bermuda natives always so suspicious...”
Muttering to himself, Hugo signed and stamped the document. After reviewing it once more, he carefully placed it atop the desk.
