Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 237
Cameron’s mouth twitched, revealing an expression caught between amusement and disbelief.
“My dear brother, Oliver,” he stared at the babbling Angel Duke as if looking at a madman running barefoot and crazed through the streets, “I can hardly believe you could be so foolishly arrogant to this extent—I truly want to understand now. Albury is one thing, but how exactly did you defeat that sinister and despicable butcher Gride and then seize his Gregor City?”
Yet Oliver had been ignoring his mockery from the very beginning.
Those eyes, rendered clear blue by the brilliant sunlight, remained gentle and calm all along.
He quietly gazed at the crowd with their varied expressions yet unmoving postures, then after a long pause, smiled slightly and reminded them, “My patience is limited.”
—This duke of noble bloodline and astonishing beauty was clearly mad.
Though most maintained their silence, their slightly raised chins born of arrogance, the pity and contempt in their eyes, and their steadfast figures clustered behind the king’s magnificent cloak all revealed their current stance.
Only Nate was startled to discover that his best friend—and his closest companion in this procession of knights all of noble birth—Kembesh had actually been bewitched!
Even standing shoulder to shoulder where he could only see the other’s profile—whether it was the lips trembling despite clenched teeth, the hands tightly clenched into fists with veins bulging on the back, or the leather boots making restless minute shifts—all clearly indicated that he actually intended to respond to the summons of that doomed duke!
“Kembesh, you must be insane!”
Realizing this unbelievable fact, Nate desperately grabbed Kembesh’s sword hilt before his restraint completely collapsed.
Fortunately, they were still some distance from the main procession, and everyone’s attention remained focused on the distant duke, so no one noticed their inconspicuous corner by the wall.
He strained to keep his voice low, though cold sweat nearly broke out on his forehead from anxiety, his words becoming disordered: “You’re mad, don’t even think about it! You didn’t act earlier, why seek death now?! Don’t be stupid, I beg you, think of your mother! Oh heavens, I can’t imagine how heartbroken she’d be if she saw you do this!”
But Kembesh, who had just been nodding listlessly and choosing to follow his advice by abandoning futile arguments with their superiors, now displayed unprecedented determination.
His ordinary light brown eyes, now illuminated by a bright shaft of sunlight, seemed transformed into dark gold.
“No, Nate.”
His voice was also unprecedentedly calm and firm: “Thank you for always protecting and helping me. I know very well you’re saying this for my own good.”
He took a deep breath, a trace of relief appearing in his eyes: “But this time, I must go.”
Nate stared blankly as his hand was pushed aside, his mind in complete disarray, even thinking… could there actually be a hint of joy mixed in his friend’s demeanor at this moment?
He repeated in a daze, “You must go? Don’t be foolish! That Duke—I’m afraid His Majesty doesn’t want to leave behind a reputation for cruelty, so he only imprisoned him. Though he lost his freedom and power, he’s certainly better off than we are now. And you? If you go, forget about reaching his side—you might be shot dead by the officers after just a few steps!”
“I know, but I must go.”
Kembesh spoke word by word: “I could have endured all of this, Nate, but in the darkness… I saw that light. When all the minor nobles, out of fear for their lives, chose self-preservation and abandoned even the slightest shred of conscience; when the great nobles continued their revelries, only concerned about whether their hunts and banquets would proceed smoothly; when the general and the King, who held his life in their hands, so naturally labeled the desperate commoners—who had grown up in this city and paid heavy taxes for every silver coin they earned—as ‘rioters,’ he fell into an endless abyss.”
Exhausted and powerless, he could neither break through the darkness nor climb out, especially with his frail mother relying on him for survival. So he forced himself to become numb, just to scrape by. Perhaps one day, he would become like those great nobles he feared and despised—someone who danced and reveled upon the bones of commoners as if it were natural.
But now, he could no longer do it.
The moment he heard that the Angel Duke—who possessed the noblest and purest bloodline and the most selfless virtues, and whom countless nobles believed was far more suited to wear the radiant crown than the current King—had completely sided with the commoners and loudly denounced the King’s wrongdoings, he knew.
He could no longer pretend to be blind.
“They don’t lack a hunting dog with merely ordinary sharp teeth,” Kembesh said with an unprecedented, relaxed smile after making this decision. He shrugged, as if lifting a heavy burden that had long weighed on his heart, becoming incredibly lighthearted and cheerful. He even used his friend’s earlier words of persuasion to persuade him in return: “Anyway, if I don’t do it, countless others will clamor to take my place.”
But what did the eagerness of those others have to do with him?
He could not allow himself to keep pretending it was an eternal night and miss that one and only light.
“If there truly is a god in this world, then he will surely protect the noble and great being before us, who possesses flawless virtue.” Gently but firmly, Kembesh pushed aside Nate’s hand, which was clutching his sword sheath, and resolutely took his first step forward. “And if there is no god, and no miracle occurs, then let me extinguish alongside him.”
Even if it was just the afterglow of a shooting star, it had once illuminated the world before his eyes.
Nate closed his eyes. “Do you truly have no regrets? Even your mother would—”
“I have no regrets, my friend.” Without turning back, Kembesh declared firmly, “I’ve thought it through clearly. If I were to betray all the vows I made when I became a knight, and wield the sword I’ve practiced with for so many years against the very people I should protect… my mother, upon learning of this, would only feel ashamed of her son’s cowardice and selfishness.”
“Even if I die, I must die with dignity.”
After speaking these words, Kembesh abandoned his disheartened friend and strode resolutely out of the formation.
—Those like Kembesh, who had long suffered the torment of conscience and now appeared bewitched by Duke Oliver to abandon all their promising prospects for what everyone saw as a path to certain death, were undoubtedly few in number.
Kembesh undoubtedly stepped forward with a death-defying attitude, even secretly prepared to be shot dead by his humiliated commander before he had gone far.
What he didn’t know was that F[mfn]他不知道的是，F的确是这样想，并且也准备这么做的— – Lit. “F”; unsure if this is the authors typo or deliberate.[/mfn] indeed thought so and was about to do exactly that—only to be stopped by the King, who viewed all this as an entertaining spectacle.
“I want to see what my adorable younger brother with his pretty face intends to do with these dozen or so people he’s bewitched,” the King said leisurely.
Thus, Kembesh walked several dozen paces until he was quite close to the stone platform where Duke Oliver stood, his back soaked through with cold sweat from tension… yet the piercing strike he expected never came.
Puzzled, he halted and exchanged bewildered glances with the handful of others who had similarly chosen death over betraying a knight’s dignity and beliefs, unwilling to slaughter civilians.
However, moments later, hurried footsteps sounded behind him once more.
Snapping back to attention instinctively, he gasped in shock the next instant: “Nate!”
Staring dumbfounded at his friend who wore the expression of a heroic martyr, he cried out hoarsely: “Why are you—”
“Enough already, shut up, you fool!”
Nate snarled the reprimand as he took his place beside him.
His wheat-colored face flushed crimson—the dash here had clearly exhausted every ounce of courage from someone never known for bravery.
Yet his following tone held the same firmness Kembesh had shown earlier: “I wasn’t born a villain either! It’s not just you who has that damned humanity… Damn it all, damn it! I mean I’ve had enough of this cursed life—I’m tired of living! Might as well die happily on the battlefield!”
Finding bleak amusement in their plight, he thought: Though dying on this peculiar “battlefield” alongside Nate, his closest friend, wasn’t so bad after all.
Nate’s heart raced with tension and fear, his mind swirling with chaotic thoughts to distract himself: He hoped his fierce mother wouldn’t grieve too much; his father would surely take care of her. There was some money left at home—he’d saved quite a bit over the years and given it all to them. His younger brother, always quick-witted, would surely recognize the bad omen and know to flee with their parents…
Unnoticed even by Nate himself, countless thoughts whirled through his mind, yet not one contained regret.
After waiting a short while until a scattered dozen or so people had stepped forward, Oliver couldn’t help but smile.
“I never expected there’d be over ten people.”
He unconsciously stroked the two [rings of the cat god] he had just retrieved, then glanced at the golden mist hovering around him like morning haze.
His eyelids lowered slightly as he quickly put on the ring. His pale golden lashes cast a gentle shadow over his eyelids like butterfly wings, forming a breathtakingly beautiful oil painting.
As if murmuring to himself, he said with a smile, “I’ll leave the rest to you.”
Just as the deity who had transformed into golden mist was about to respond, it heard the next words that made it so happy it nearly dissipated.
The peerlessly beautiful divine messenger pursed his lips, a flash of shyness quickly passing through his sapphire-like eyes.
His voice now was even softer than before, like a breeze gently brushing against tender buds, making their tips tremble imperceptibly: “From now on, I probably won’t say ‘thank you’ anymore, not even in my heart.”
The God of Wealth was momentarily stunned.
Then, it clearly heard Oliver’s words, filled with hidden laughter yet brimming with tender affection: “After all, when we become lovers, we should understand and care for each other. And you, being the only one with divine power, seem destined to be at my beck and call more often…”
“So,” Oliver blinked, saying cheerfully, “you’ll have to work hard for me often from now on, my dearest lover.”
But the God of Wealth remained motionless.
The golden mist stiffly solidified, staying dazed over its beloved little partner for a long time before slowly drifting forward at Oliver’s repeated urging.
It was thinking rapidly.
So this is what it meant to officially become Oliver’s “lover” – so many… so many wonderfully happy things would happen?
