HTLCCBFT Chapter 167

Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 167

To Oliver’s surprise, Fosse reacted quite calmly to his two decisions—taking responsibility for Count McKenna’s death and accepting Ken Spire’s loyalty.

Expressionlessly, he stared for a moment at the equally impassive Spire, then gave a slight nod, indicating the other had passed his preliminary assessment.

After shifting his gaze away from Spire, he bowed his head to his young master and replied, “Understood, Your Highness.” The young master’s intention was clear: he was to fully utilize the other’s abilities, evaluate their character, but also closely monitor their every move.

“My apologies, Fosse.”

Though the loyal butler showed no objection, Oliver still felt remorse for adding extra work and trouble to his duties. Unconsciously, he revealed an endearing, almost coquettish smile and proactively explained, “I’ve caused you trouble again, always making you clean up after my mess.”

“It is my utmost honor, esteemed Your Highness.”

Not only did Fosse show no displeasure, but he visibly brightened at Oliver’s thoughtfulness. In truth, ever since Oliver went to Laina City and he witnessed everything gradually unfolding in his young master, he had long anticipated this possibility.

After all, this was his young master—impossibly soft-hearted and kind, always compassionate toward the weak, truly worthy of the title “Angel” Duke.

With graceful elegance, he performed a bow and solemnly declared, “The greatest meaning of my existence is to spare no effort in relieving your worries and fulfilling your wishes.”

Oliver couldn’t help but smile.

He looked at Fosse and equally earnestly emphasized, “Having you by my side at all times is absolutely my good fortune as well.”

To the two whose intimate, harmonious relationship hardly resembled that of noble and servant, Spire merely stood humbly to the side, awaiting Fosse’s instructions, as if finding nothing about it surprising.

Though Fosse wished to remain by his young master’s side constantly, the Albury army—having just conquered Gregor City and slain its former lord, Count McKenna—had far too much aftermath to handle.

With the addition of the former butler Spire, the pressure on Fosse seemed to sharply decrease, but in reality, it shifted to the crucial task of evaluating the other’s performance.

After entrusting Spire to Fosse, Oliver felt completely at ease: in the entire territory, no one was more loyal and reliable than his butler.

Hmm.

But that wasn’t entirely accurate—besides Fosse, there was still…

Thinking this, Oliver’s gaze inadvertently fell upon the pure-faced, golden-haired deity.

Clearly, He had been intently watching Oliver, and the moment their eyes met in silence, His clear golden pupils instantly brightened with joy.

“Oliver.”

He spoke delightedly.

The busy day finally ended, and Oliver returned to his bedroom just before the moon rose to the point where he would be forced to rest—this room, originally belonging to McKenna, was absurdly spacious and luxurious, rivaling the scale of palace bedrooms, more magnificent than the combined small reception halls of Albury and Laina City.

Fixed in their respective positions, the chandeliers and candlesticks were almost too numerous to count, all extravagantly crafted from silver. The white limestone walls were adorned with exquisite colored paintings, with the architect’s meticulous designs hidden even in the most inconspicuous corners. The floor, covered with a pristine white wool carpet, left no gaps, and the parrot patterns woven into it were strikingly lifelike.

The most eye-catching feature was the bed wide enough to accommodate ten people: a mattress so soft one could practically sink into it completely, silk bedding as delicate as a newborn’s skin, and the opulent canopy edges draped with an extravagant number of dazzling tassels woven with fine gold threads.

Even the usually critical Fosse reluctantly admitted that ‘this is the only redeeming feature of the detestable McKenna family.

The bedding had of course been entirely replaced with brand new sets. The previous owner’s favorite incense had been completely removed—Fosse knew well that the young master, who naturally carried the scent of roses, disliked the smell of other fragrances.

It was evident that in the uniformly pleasure-seeking McKenna family, successive lords had been passionate about renovating this bedroom where they spent most of their time each day.

They ensured it was sufficiently magnificent and bright, making it the most comfortable place in this castle that appeared grand and imposing on the outside but showed its age in various aspects.

Even Oliver, who had witnessed more extravagant displays in modern times, couldn’t help but marvel at the luxury.

“Come here, Cat God.”

Oliver had long grown accustomed to the blond deity’s refusal to transform into a golden cat to get on the bed, preferring instead to hold him while in his cat-eared youth form.

To be precise, he had silently indulged Him without ever raising any objections.

From the moment they entered the bedroom, the deity had comfortably manifested cat ears and now blinked, compliantly taking a seat beside Oliver.

Oliver had already bathed, his body still carrying a hint of moisture and steam. Yet precisely because of that faint mist and higher temperature, the rose scent on him had become unconsciously more intense.

It was enough to make the cat-eared deity utterly enchanted, unable to resist holding him and nuzzling closer.

Oliver relaxed his body cooperatively, allowing the cat-like youth to embrace him: in the privacy of their bedroom, nothing the Cat God could do would shock him more than that daytime kiss in front of Fosse.

The room was quiet. While letting the other party cling to him like a cat obsessed with catnip, Oliver distractedly watched the full moon outside.

He probably still had some time before entering the system’s mandatory rest period.

Since that both amusing and embarrassing “father recognition” incident, Oliver had basically stopped discussing “dirty adult matters” with the often somewhat dazed, innocent Cat God.

But on this first night after occupying Gregor City, he felt an inexplicably strong urge to confide.

“I’m going to be king.”

Oliver abruptly uttered these words: “I must become king.”

It wasn’t due to any sudden ambition to conquer the world, nor was it purely for self-preservation: in fact, unless Cameron truly harbored a deep-seated hatred for him; otherwise, after spending the next few years stabilizing the capital’s situation and realizing he was not to be trifled with, he would most likely have chosen to ignore his actions of carving out a domain in the south.

This was undoubtedly based on Oliver having gained a certain foothold and capital, no longer the destitute duke who could only cower in Laina, easily bullied by anyone.

It was with this confidence that he so readily took responsibility for Count McKenna’s death—Gride was not one of Cameron’s close confidants, and the plan to pledge loyalty to the new king had already fallen through. The king would never launch a costly southern campaign to settle scores with a duke who required immense financial and human resources to confront, and whose bloodline was even nobler than his own.

Of course, if Oliver were not content with holding these three territories and sought to expand further north, challenging Cameron’s authority… then he would inevitably become a major threat in Cameron’s eyes, sooner or later inviting a massive punitive expedition.

Upon hearing Oliver’s utterly abrupt words, the golden-haired deity, who had been engrossed in sniffing the roses, blinked rapidly a few times and replied without hesitation, “I’ll help you.”

He was clearly afraid of being rejected by his beloved believer, and after these words, he hurriedly added a few more: “Let me help you, Oliver. I want to help you.”

“Thank you.” Faced with the cat-eared deity’s eagerness, Oliver did not outright refuse this time. Instead, holding back a laugh, he answered half-jokingly, “When that day comes, I might really need your protection.”

His primary goal in ascending the throne was to fundamentally change the laws.

Merely altering the manor laws was not enough—once a new lord took over, as long as they were sufficiently powerful, they could arbitrarily make all sorts of changes to them.

Just as he had done with the legal provisions in Laina and Albury: it was no exaggeration to say that most had been deleted, and the remaining ones had been altered beyond recognition.

What he could do, the next lord could also do.

Although he had the thoughtful protection of this adorable cat-eared god, Oliver did not know how long he would live. After he passed away forever, he wondered how long the sparks he left behind would continue to burn and whether they would be enough to bring lasting warmth to the people.

A lord’s influence was limited—both in scope and duration.

The only thing that could truly be considered relatively enduring was one thing—fundamentally changing the kingdom’s laws, which held authority over all manor and clan laws.

The new king after him could certainly erase the changes he had made, but at the very least, he was genuinely one who possessed divine favor.

With his eyes closed, nestled in the golden-haired deity’s comfortably warm embrace, Oliver felt a sense of guilt welling up almost to the point of overflowing.

In this new plan, the only one he might have to let down was… this innocent, kind-hearted deity who treated him impeccably well.

His true wishes, aside from hoping that He would always stay by his side, were that after his death, in necessary circumstances, He would safeguard the sparks and will he had left behind.

Only laws blessed by divine favor could endure before a new king who revered the deity.

Of course, the experiences of that God-King who had won his affection fully demonstrated that even deities were not eternally unchanging or absolutely immortal… but if he could remain for just two or three hundred years, that would be long enough.

Even the faintest spark could transform into a raging wildfire after centuries, just as a fully constructed machine would automatically turn its gears and crush everything obstructing its path.

In this silent embrace, the golden-haired deity who had finally slowly awakened from his intoxicated inhalation of the rose fragrance slightly twitched his fluffy cat ears.

For some reason……

He couldn’t help but tighten his embrace around his beloved believer in his arms.

Although he hadn’t used his Divine Sense to eavesdrop on Oliver’s thoughts, he clearly sensed the sorrow flowing through his heart.

“Oliver,” he murmured softly, lowering his gaze slightly as he looked at him with serious concern, “Are you sad?”

“Why are you sad?” he whispered as if talking to himself, carefully kissing Oliver’s ear, then his soft lips, appearing somewhat flustered. “Don’t be sad, I’ll help you.”

Holding his most cherished being, at the moment he realized he seemed unable to dispel his sorrow, he felt utterly helpless, instinctively wanting to place him within his most important Divinity, carefully hide him away, and protect him perfectly.

But he restrained himself and didn’t do so.

Because he knew very well that Oliver wouldn’t like being hidden away in his divine realm, far from those humans.

Moreover, though his Divinity was safe, it was somewhat boring.

Unlike Gregor City, which had so many little flowers that Oliver loved, and those fields that appeared rather dull but were deeply valued by Oliver.

He hesitated for a moment, then emphasized again: “I will definitely help you. I love you, Oliver.”

Like a clumsy kitten awkwardly using even its own soft paw pads, gently holding a beloved little rose in its mouth while wandering about in confusion.

Completely unaware of where would be the safest place to hide its treasure, where it could continue to bloom most perfectly.

“Don’t be sad, Oliver.”

He thought with difficulty.

If all else fails, he would have no choice but to secretly hide Oliver within his own divine body, keeping him close as he moved about.

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