Chapter 410: 408 Meeting_1
The main lounge of White Dew Fortress is extravagantly and luxuriously furnished. The arch dome, made from hundred-year-old redwood from the Bright Moon Forest, is covered in gold foil and studded with precious gemstones, adorned with crystal chandeliers. Using these precious decorations and the changing light, a skilled artist depicted the exciting epic of the first Holy Knight from the St. Prowse Family battling in all four directions.

It’s extravagant, yet rich with an artistic touch. It’s grand and majestic without falling into vulgarity.

Beautiful maids, trained with care by the Duke’s court, led them in, presenting the three seated guests with a variety of fruits, pastries, and silver wine pots. They filled each guest’s wine cup with clear liquor; a delicate yet rich, strange aroma of wine spread through the lounge.

Count Howell picked up the wine cup, drank it down in one gulp, glanced at Count Brugen, who sat silently next to him, then stared at Viscount Fein, who sat solemnly across, and couldn’t help asking:

“Viscount Fein, how was your diplomatic mission to Silver Moon City?”

Viscount Fein returned to his senses, was just about to speak when a formidable figure strides into the room.

“The Duke!”

The three immediately rose to their feet and saluted Duke St. Prowse.

Duke St. Prowse took his seat at the head of the lounge’s seating area, casually lifting his arm and said, “Sit.”

The three promptly took their seats.

Duke St. Prowse took a small sip of Dumb liquor and said, “Viscount Fein, tell us about your mission to Silver Moon City.”

“Yes, my lord.” Viscount Fein stood up in response, gave a small bow, and then said, “During my trip to Silver Moon City, I met with Count Angler and preliminarily discussed the matter of ransoming Marquis Vincent.

“However, he outrightly rejected your proposal to exchange Rock City for Marquis Vincent, and bluntly stated that he would only accept warships as the ransom for Marquis Vincent.”

Having said this, Viscount Fein once again gave a small bow, indicating the end of his statement.

Count Howell blinked, turned his head to look at Count Brugen, who also seemed to be puzzled.

To their view, Viscount Fein left out the most important piece of information—was Marquis Vincent dead or alive?

Normally, Viscount Fein, as a supporter of Count Evan’s lineage, if he knew that Marquis Vincent had already been assassinated, he would surely immediately report it to Duke St.Prowse, and then persuade him to re-establish the heir to the nobility.

But now, Viscount Fein didn’t even mention the situation of Marquis Vincent, nor did he mention the confirmed news that the latter was assaulted in the Half-Elf Palace.

Count Howell’s heart jolted – could it be that Viscount Fein himself also had no certainty whether Marquis Vincent was dead or alive, so didn’t dare to blabber in front of Duke St. Prowse?

Thinking of this, his eyes immediately filled with irrepressible joy.

However, what puzzled him was that Count Brugen beside him seemed even more worried.

After hearing Viscount Fein’s report, Duke St. Prowse gave a nod with a poker face, then looked at Counts Howell and Brugen and said:

“Since you both are here, what are your thoughts? Should we use warships to ransom Vincent?”

Count Brugen was the first to speak: “My lord, I believe we must carefully consider this matter. The Angry River is our most important barrier against the Northern Iron Cavalry, and our Pegasus Navy is the key to our control over the Angry River.

“Therefore, even if we were to use warships to ransom Marquis Vincent, we must carefully control the number and tonnage of the warships. We cannot allow the Northerners to take this opportunity to establish a navy that can compete with ours.”

Duke St. Prowse put down his wine cup and turned to look at Count Howell, evidently wanting to hear his opinion.

The Howell Family wielded great power within the Pegasus Navy, with many high-ranking military officers coming from Howell’s line. Even the highest commander of the navy was personally held by Count Howell. In fact, one might even say that half of the Pegasus Navy was Howell Family’s private army.

Therefore, if they were going to use warships to ransom Marquis Vincent, Count Howell’s opinion would be critically important.

Seeing that Duke St. Prowse was looking at him, Count Howell began to speak, “My lord, I agree with Count Brugen’s view. The terms previously proposed by Count Angler were too harsh, practically asking for all of our navy’s warships, which is certainly not something we can agree to.

“In my view, we can give the Northerners at most three heavy warships. The limit on the number of sailing ships can be relaxed a bit, but it must not exceed fifty. As for transports, we may be able to give more depending on circumstances.”

In this way, the strength of the Pegasus Navy can still maintain an absolute advantage. Even if the Northerners acquire those warships, they will not be able to assemble a comparable fleet in a short period of time.

But we should not relax our vigilance. After successfully redeeming Marquis Vincent, we can find a suitable opportunity and excuse to dispatch the Pegasus Navy upstream, find the Navy of the Northerners, and nip the danger in the bud!”

Duke St. Prowse nodded his head, very satisfied with Count Howell’s suggestion, and promptly declared:

“Good, in that case, Viscount Fein, head back to Silver Moon City and renegotiate the terms of Vincent’s redemption with Count Angler, with Howell’s conditions given just now as the baseline.”

“Yes, Your Grace!”

“Count Howell,” Duke St. Prowse turned his head back to Howell, and ordered, “Please head to Riverside Port immediately. Explain the situation to the warriors of the Pegasus Navy, soothe their minds, and get ready for the handover.”

“Yes!” Count Howell immediately answered.

“Alright, that’s it. I hope you all work together and successfully redeem Vincent.” After Duke St. Prowse finished speaking, he rose from his seat and left the lounge as if he had some urgent matter waiting for him.

Viscount Fein, seemingly influenced by the Duke’s swift and decisive attitude, also promptly strode out of the lounge, without chatting much with the two counts.

Count Howell scratched the back of his head. He felt that things were going too smoothly today, unnervingly so.

He glanced at Count Brugen, and seeing that the latter was silent, he swallowed whatever he wanted to say and left in silence.

Upon leaving the White Dew Fortress, Count Howell couldn’t help calling out to Count Brugen, asking, “Why didn’t young Viscount Fein mention the assassination of Marquis Vincent? Doesn’t this indicate that he also isn’t confident about whether the Marquis is alive or dead?”

Count Brugen turned and glanced at Count Howell, and after a moment of silence, he murmured, “Perhaps.”

Having said that, he ignored Count Howell, who was still embroiled in his own thoughts, and turned to board his horse-drawn carriage.

Fein’s odd behavior today did not alleviate Brugen’s concerns, but rather, sent a chill down his spine.

He was very clear that even if Fein were uncertain about Marquis Vincent’s status, he would voice his concerns to Duke St. Prowse. This would influence the Duke’s decision, preventing him from resolving to negotiate with the Northerners. This is the choice that would benefit Count Evan the most.

But today, Fein did not even raise the matter.

It seemed that Duke St. Prowse was also determined to exchange the warships to rescue Marquis Vincent.

Although this seemed like great news for Brugen, he couldn’t bring himself to rejoice.

The anomalies led him to a grim conclusion – Could it be possible that Marquis Vincent was indeed dead?

Could all the actions of Duke St. Prowse and Viscount Fein be a subterfuge under the guise of rescuing Vincent, concealing some hidden agenda?

The more Count Brugen thought about it, the more he felt that this was likely the truth. And, this truth was a painful blow.

If Marquis Vincent had indeed died in Silver Moon City, it would mean all the family’s years of effort and investment were in vain.

In the future, would Count Evan, upon inheriting the title of the Duke of the Eastern Territory, neglect the Brugen Family or even… retaliate?

With these heavy thoughts, he returned home in a daze to find his butler reporting the arrival of an esteemed guest.

Count Brugen, having forgotten to ask who the guest was, followed the butler to the lounge.

“Lord Count, it’s been a while.”

A familiar voice rang out by Count Brugen’s ear. He raised his head abruptly, only to see Count Evan standing in the center of the hall, smiling at him.