HTLCCBFT Chapter 224

Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 224

Having been a bookseller for most of his life, Booke had long ceased to care about the books themselves, focusing instead on how much money he earned each day.

But it seemed that ever since the year he visited Laina, the trajectory of his life had completely changed.

He was still dealing with books every day, only now they were “printed” rather than handwritten… yet he always felt something was subtly different.

Especially recently. Every night, lying alone in bed, Booke couldn’t help but ponder one thing.

For what reason would that esteemed Duke personally fund the printing and public distribution of those books? Although the costs were eventually recovered without difficulty…

They weren’t textbooks, nor were they pure stories. Instead, they recounted seemingly ordinary past events, followed by simple commentaries and suggestions written by the Duke himself—casual in tone, like idle conversation.

Even though he felt deeply irreverent for having such thoughts and tried to avoid them as much as possible, he had to admit—they were truly boring.

At least, they weren’t something he would enjoy reading.

The “Elementary Textbook” and “Intermediate Textbook” were different. In other cities, they had sparked curious buying frenzies from the very first year of their printing and release. Besides benefiting many commoners who learned various planting or breeding techniques, they were also brought by some self-proclaimed clever minor nobles to their tea parties.

In their eyes, this was perfect evidence for the topic of “the Angel Duke’s downfall,” making it ideal for malicious mockery of that lofty Duke whom they had once envied intensely.

However, this peculiar and ridiculous usage quietly died down by unspoken consensus after Oliver’s influence rapidly expanded—to the point where even the King could do nothing about it.

That day, Miss Pride didn’t spend too long “praying” at the Temple of Light, returning to the estate before night completely fell.

On her way, she encountered a former “friend”—the daughter of Count Prejudis [mfn]普利朱迪斯(Pǔ lì zhū dí sī) – ‘prejudice’[/mfn].

Also newly married, the woman deliberately leaned out of her carriage just as their vehicles were about to pass each other, taunting the curtain embroidered with the prominent Pride family crest: “Oh my, my dear Edir[mfn]艾迪尔(Ài dí ěr) – could be ‘idea’ or ‘ideal'[/mfn]… Oh no, I should address you as Mrs. McKenna now. When did you return? Had I known you’d quietly come back to the royal capital, I would have definitely sent you an invitation to tomorrow afternoon’s tea party. Everyone has heard about the unfortunate circumstances of your young and capable Count husband and wants to offer you some help.”

She had always hated Edir—whether it was because the latter had been so fortunate as to secure a marriage contract with the Duke renowned throughout the capital for his beauty, elegance, and nobility; or because Edir’s father had shamelessly abandoned the poor Duke to eagerly curry favor with the new King; or because she herself had been married off by the new King in a nearly humiliating manner to the minor McKenna, who possessed nothing but an empty Count title and property insufficient for a year of noble expenses…

What dissatisfied her most was that despite all this, Edir always appeared completely indifferent.

Edir did not lift the carriage curtain. Instead, while the maids wore expressions of righteous indignation, she spoke in an utterly flat tone: “The butler of the Count’s household does not accept tea party invitations from anyone below the rank of Viscount. I thought you should be well aware of this.”

Struck where it hurt—being “forced by her father to marry down to a supposedly promising young Baron”—the other party’s face abruptly changed color. Then, gritting her teeth, she resentfully slammed the carriage curtain shut.

After that, there were no further disturbances, and Edir smoothly returned home.

Having grown up here since childhood, she was intimately familiar with every blade of grass and every tree, and clearly had no interest in investigating whether her father had purchased more ostentatious yet worthless gold ornaments.

Winter was approaching, and the nights had grown quite cold. Wrapped in a thick coat, she entered her father’s long-dusty study, ordered an oil lamp to be lit, and began to read.

She had originally bought two copies of the book—one she had personally given to a like-minded companion, while the other she kept for herself, occasionally flipping through it.

The fine quality of the paper indicated its considerable price—a full gold coin. Yet, despite the excellent material, the corners had curled slightly from frequent handling, and even tiny cracks had appeared.

Miss Pride, who remained indifferent to her father’s newly acquired lavish gold ornaments, now caressed the pages with utmost tenderness, carefully turning them as she read.

This was already the tenth time she had read the same book.

Her favorite part was the account of a girl named “Lucy”—especially since, upon learning that it was entirely true, she grew even more concerned about Lucy’s fate.

Through these books, she clearly saw a world she had once known nothing about, and thus had never even been curious to explore.

It was a place most nobles would scoff at, disdain to understand, or regard with condescending pity.

The initial events that befell Lucy made her chest tighten, but the gradual transformation that later emerged in Lucy brought her joy, and surprisingly, even stirred a twinge of envy.

As a nobleman’s daughter, destined from childhood to marry another noble, she had been personally tutored by a former court lady to prove her excellent lineage and upbringing—of course, she was literate.

Yet in Laina, Albury, and Gregor City, even the children of slaves could attend the divine temple for education and learn a variety of subjects.

She was not so extraordinary after all.

Girls could engage in numerous professions; with enough effort and excellence, even a slave girl could undergo a complete transformation.

Naturally, Edir did not care about Lucy’s shift from “slave” to “commoner”—in the eyes of the nobility, both seemed equally lowly.

But she saw how Lucy, through her own efforts, earned the genuine respect and recognition of those around her, who sincerely followed her.

This was something she could not achieve.

Whether servants or knights, their bowing and scraping, their polished manners, were solely due to her noble status.

No matter how unlearned her father was, or how many more absurd and shameful things he might do, as long as he remained “Count Pride,” she would continue to bask in false glory.

It made no difference whether it was her or anyone else.

Lucy was different. No one could replace her abilities—the capabilities granted by the knowledge she had personally acquired.

After revisiting her favorite story about Lucy, Edir heard the maid’s cautious urging but paid it no mind.

She continued flipping through the pages, this time reading the content at the very end of the book—the most crucial pages.

After silently reading the first few paragraphs, she mouthed the words on the final two pages.

“…What he saw at that moment was not a mere flame, but a blazing inferno, surging like tidal waves. The acrid smell of burning filled his nostrils so intensely that even the most ignorant beast would instinctively recognize it as a place of extreme danger and turn to flee. How could he not know?”

“Of course, he knew.”

“But he understood even more clearly that he was in a unique, irreplaceable position at that moment.”

“He could choose to crawl out—someone who could endure such excruciating pain would surely be able to escape…”

“But he did not do so.”

“It was not due to anyone’s command, nor out of fear of the whip. In the vast barn, he was alone. No one could see him, and no god forcibly dictated his every move.”

“He, Jack, an ordinary reserve soldier, a once insignificant slave. At this moment, he was acting entirely of his own will.”

Even after reading it several times, Edir still felt a tightness in her chest and a shared sense of pain at what happened next.

With a look of reluctance, she quickly skipped over those details and moved to the final short passage.

“He withstood the trial by fire; his soul had already ascended. Under the guidance of the great cat god, a noble and magnificent soul departed its ordinary vessel. The brilliance of his memory scattered from the sky, forever protecting the place of his birth.”

“He was Jack Laina.”

“From then on, he would become the first child to take this city as his surname—the city he gave his life to protect. All people of Laina would forever remember his name.”

At the same time, in a hidden chamber of the Divine Sun Temple, a low voice softly recited, word by word.

“He is an undying spark, awakening lost souls. If, for a long time to come, there is destined to be no light, then he is the only, the most radiant light.”

— “Is this the writing my self-important younger brother personally penned?”

Half a month later.

King Cameron, who had just returned laden with game from the hunting grounds, heard this story recited with exaggerated flair by a bard at the first winter banquet he hosted.

He let out an undisguised scoff, his fingers disdainfully and elegantly picking up a page. Without even glancing at its contents, he released it with disgust, as if shaking off something filthy.

His gloomy eyes brimmed with mockery: “To sing praises for those filthy, lowly slaves—I think he’s truly gone mad! An utter disgrace to the royal family!”

During the old king’s reign, including Cameron, the several princes, though far inferior in appearance to the youngest Angel Duke Oliver, could still be considered undeniably handsome men.

After usurping the throne, Cameron’s aging accelerated like leaves deepening into autumn, rapidly transforming from youthful vigor to brittle withering.

He seemed not to have enjoyed proper sleep for a long time, with dark shadows beneath his lower eyelids, his entire demeanor growing increasingly gloomy.

Prudent nobles maintained cautious attitudes toward the uncertain political situation, refraining from excessive commentary.

Only those declining aristocrats desperate to curry favor with the King, along with the ever-ridiculed Count Pride among the old nobility, saw this as a golden opportunity to flatter the monarch.

True to form, Pride immediately stepped forward, loudly echoing: “Wise Your Majesty, your words couldn’t be more correct! That arrogant duke ought to feel ashamed of his own folly and corruption! Great god of light! As your most loyal servant, I rejoice from the bottom of my heart that my poor daughter has escaped her unfortunate fate, finding true refuge under the radiant glory of Your Majesty’s protection—”

“Is that so?” The King showed nothing but contempt for the opportunistic Count Pride, bluntly exposing him even now: “Yet the expression on Miss Pride’s face hardly suggests agreement with her father.”

“Pray forgive me, honorable Majesty.”

The addressed Edir remained unperturbed, gracefully lifting her skirt to perform a curtsy before responding measuredly: “Since childhood, I’ve been clumsy with words. Even when joy fills my heart, I know not how to express my boundless gratitude to you.”

Edir’s dignified composure clearly failed to satisfy the King.

“Indeed?”

He narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the young and beautiful countess with sharp severity. After a long pause, a chilling malice seemed to flicker in his gaze.

This was, after all, the very fiancée whom his now-archenemy brother Oliver had personally discarded. [mfn]I think this is confirmation that the author most definitely forgot they previously named her Fanci Pride (斐安希·普莱德) in chapter 47. RIP.[/mfn]

A slight smile touched his lips as his gaze settled on the anxious Count Pride, deliberately commanding in a voice all could hear: “After the banquet concludes, have your daughter remain behind to provide a truly convincing explanation.”

In that moment, including Count Pride himself, everyone’s eyes revealed astonishment.

Some more conservative nobles frowned deeply in disapproval—the King’s intention was transparent: to further humiliate his rival by exploiting this girl’s former identity as the duke’s betrothed, despite having forced her into a ludicrous marriage with the son of a destitute count under royal decree.

What a foolish, petty-minded clown, they silently cursed.

While the minority disapproved and the majority maintained a detached bystander mentality, the outcome was evident—none would risk the King’s wrath to rescue this innocent girl.

Preceding Edir’s obedient acceptance came a high-ranking royal guard who rushed in beaming with excitement.

“Honorable Majesty, my liege.” He knelt on one knee, announcing clearly: “A ship from the Lord of Neighboryn[mfn]内波英(nèi bō yīng) – ‘neighboring'[/mfn] has arrived at the docks, laden with gifts intended for Your Majesty—!”

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