The Most Arbitrary Wizard

Chapter 165: Chapter 98: Olivia Elderidge

This was also what he wanted Klintor to learn: always decide what to say and do based on the situation. It was best to avoid making enemies whenever possible, but if an offense was unavoidable, it had to be done cleanly and decisively.

One man’s hero is another’s mortal foe.

The more ruthlessly the Florist Family offended Carl Black, the more the Church Court would trust them.

Not taking a side is one way to survive. Committing wholly to one side is another.

But seeing the remorseful look on Klintor’s face, Robes knew the boy likely hadn’t understood a thing. He wasn’t in the mood to lecture Klintor now, though. He still had two people left to kill.

Robes didn’t plan to leave any survivors.

While capturing his enemies alive and presenting them to the Church Court for accolades would have been more "persuasive," he had initially shown a "friendly" side to Sean and his companions. If the Church Court were to interrogate them and discover the fight only broke out after negotiations failed, this great deed could very well become a grave charge.

Therefore, not a single one of the four could be left alive.

However...

By the time Kate’s light completely faded, Sean and Elvire were nowhere to be seen.

The great net woven from Puppet Strings had caught nothing but air.

Robes’s face darkened.

Klintor immediately rushed out of the room. "I’ll go after them!"

’Chase them with what? You? You won’t catch a damn thing!’

’Even *he* didn’t know how Sean and Elvire had escaped or where they’d gone. How could Klintor possibly know?’

’The Heaven and Earth Net was named as such because it left its target with no place to run.’

’As long as the enemy’s Tier wasn’t higher than his own and they couldn’t forcibly break the net, surrender was the only possible outcome.’

’And yet, Sean and Elvire had slipped away without a sound.’

’He hadn’t even sensed a ripple of Magic Power.’

’Could that man really be Carl Black?’

’Perhaps he’s lost his old Magic Power, but retained some special, life-saving technique? Is that why he dared to risk coming to the Florist Family to spy on the Church Court?’

For a moment, Robes’s expression was a whirlwind of uncertainty.

Going after Carl Black’s followers was one thing; going after Carl Black himself was another concept entirely.

The former would take time to reach Carl Black’s ears, and even if he decided to retaliate against the Florist Family, it wouldn’t be immediate. The latter, however, meant they were in truly deep trouble. Carl Black might summon the remaining followers of the Sanctuary of Truth tomorrow and march on Selona City to wipe the Florist Family from the face of the earth.

Carl Black might not be as powerful as he once was, but that didn’t mean the same was true for his followers.

After all, in the history books, Carl Black was a figure branded with titles like "Succubus," "pyramid scheme mastermind," and "Evil Grand Mage." His influence was immense. Even after several hundred years and a change of dynasties in the Empire, there were bound to be die-hard loyalists awaiting his return, possibly including some truly powerful families.

The Florist Family wouldn’t stand a chance against even one of them.

But Robes didn’t say this out loud, nor did he stop Klintor from chasing Sean and Elvire.

’What if he actually manages to catch them?’

Besides, he had his own business to attend to; he couldn’t afford to worry about that now.

Even if this was just a worst-case scenario, as the Clan Leader of the Florist Family, Robes had to prepare for it. He had made the choice, and he would have to take responsibility for it.

Robes stared pensively at the untouched glass of red wine Sean had left behind, then called for a maid.

"Get the car ready! We’re going to the Holy City!"

’He had to get to the Church Court and tell His Holiness the Pope about this himself!’

The maid replied, "Yes, my lord."

...

Just as it had been in the Era of Polymath that Elvire and the others remembered, the Holy City was situated at the very heart of the continent. It was named Elderidge, the revered family name of the Church Court’s ruling lineage.

Selona City was nearly two thousand kilometers from Elderidge—not a short journey. Furthermore, the city had numerous, strict rules. As a result, many families rarely visited. For one, it was a hassle. For another, they simply couldn’t fit into that elite circle. It wasn’t just a matter of social class; the etiquette was also difficult to adapt to. Take, for instance, Robes’s order to "get the car ready."

That order didn’t mean preparing a car in the usual sense. It meant preparing two different kinds of vehicles.

The first was a standard, fuel-powered automobile, the kind seen everywhere on the streets.

Robes would take this car to the airport, then fly to Pilgrimage City, located near Elderidge. As its name suggested, it was subordinate to the Holy City and existed specifically to receive visiting families.

The second vehicle was a horse-drawn carriage, "powered" by a coachman.

Once in Pilgrimage City, Robes would switch to the carriage and proceed "slowly" toward the Holy City.

The Church Court had a rule that no motorized vehicles were allowed to enter Elderidge, not even bicycles. The only available mode of transport in the city was the horse-drawn carriage.

This was because the "Master" disliked polluted air.

On the other hand, it also served as a reminder to all: though times change, one must not forget their origins. There ought to be a place in the world that remains as it was before the dawn of modern civilization, a place to reflect on past hardships in order to appreciate present comforts and cultivate a grateful heart.

In any case, the official justifications were always pleasant to the ear. Robes didn’t think there was anything inherently wrong with the policy; he just felt incredibly "rushed."

For the Florist Family of the past, time was money; the sums they earned each second were beyond the imagination of any commoner. But for the Florist Family of today, time had become something far more precious: life itself. He was now in a race against Carl Black—or Carl Black’s minions—to see who could reach their respective patrons first.

But this matter could not be rushed.

A carriage was far slower than a modern car. Even if the horses ran their legs to stumps, they could at best manage thirty to fifty kilometers an hour. Robes grew too impatient to wait. In a complete role reversal, he used a Magic Spell, grabbed the carriage—horse and all—and began to carry it himself as he rushed down the road.

As he neared Elderidge, he set the horse and carriage back down, dusted himself off, settled back inside the carriage, and said lightly to the coachman, "Alright, let’s enter the city."

The coachman: "..."

The horse: "NEIGH~"

They’d never had such an easy gig.

Yet even with Robes taking matters into his own hands, he still didn’t reach Elderidge until the following afternoon.

The Pope resided in a place called Hesinra Palace, named after the first Witch Empress in history, and now also known as the Holy See. On previous visits, Robes had always marveled at the grandeur of Hesinra Palace, which was countless times larger than his own old castle of a mere twenty-thousand-plus square meters. This time, however, he had no leisure for sightseeing. He found a Divine Servant at once and stated his wish to see the Pope.

"Lord Robes, please follow me."

He was a Viscount, after all. The Divine Servant treated Robes with utmost respect, leading him to a reception hall to await an audience.

And this wait lasted for almost an hour.

Robes had traveled through the night and was exhausted. In the vast, empty reception hall, there was no one to speak with. He waited for so long that he nearly dozed off. Just as he was about to close his eyes for a quick nap, the sound of light footsteps came from the doorway.

Robes was instantly alert and shot to his feet.

He turned, only to find that it was not the Pope, but a woman of breathtaking beauty.

She wore a snow-white gown, her posture poised and elegant. No matter how many times he saw her, Robes was always struck by her beauty.

But he dared not stare. He quickly lowered his head and bowed respectfully.

"Her Highness the Saintess."

"Viscount Floris, please, be seated." A polite, faint smile touched the Saintess’s exquisite features. "His Holiness the Pope is in secluded meditation at the moment. If you have some matter of importance, Viscount Floris, you may speak with me. So long as it does not directly pertain to His Holiness himself, I can act in his stead."

In Elderidge, the Saintess wielded immense power. To a certain extent, her word was as good as the Pope’s.

’In fact, in Robes’s eyes, telling the Saintess was even better than telling the Pope.’

’Because the one who was wronged by Carl Black all those years ago was a Saintess. As they shared the same title, this current Saintess should be able to empathize more deeply.’

Robes’s expression turned grave. He reported with the utmost seriousness, "Her Highness the Saintess, Carl Black has been resurrected."

The Saintess’s smile froze.

The air suddenly fell silent.

"What did you just say?"

"Who did you say was resurrected?!"

"Carl Black."

"Which Carl Black?"

"The Carl Black who wronged Saintess Olivia," Robes said, deliberately mentioning the incident. He then asked cautiously, "Her Highness is surely aware of him?"

The light in the Saintess’s eyes wavered. "I am."

’Of course I am.’

’Carl Black...’

’That name wasn’t just in the history books; it was seared into her very mind.’

’Even though his face had long since blurred beyond recall, she had never, for a single moment, forgotten that name.’

’Not in her past life, nor in this one. No matter how much time had passed.’

’Because the Saintess of the Church Court had never been another person. Every generation of Saintess... had been her.’

’She was Olivia.’

’Olivia Elderidge. The one who was wronged by Carl Black.’

...