Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 841 - 456: The Rapid Collapse of the Holy Eastern Empire

The air inside the cathedral was filled with a layer of white smoke.

That was the priceless deep-sea scented incense.

Incense burners lined up one after another, and the incense was thrown into the brazier regardless of cost.

The billowing white smoke spiraled under the dome, trying to create an atmosphere of sacred solemnity that was nearly aggressive and could not be desecrated.

Seldon knelt at the front of the coffin, his black mourning attire fitting perfectly.

He was the center of everyone’s gaze and the rightful heir to the Duke.

In front of the coffin kneels a mass of black veils.

Duke Calvin believed in the philosophy of strength in numbers all his life, leaving behind nearly thirty children.

At this moment, these pure-blooded filial sons and grandsons are lined up according to their age, creating a grand scene, yet one that has a touch of the absurd that makes one want to laugh and cry.

The cries come one after another, some real, some fake.

Seldon’s gaze swept among them, quickly losing patience.

He slightly turned his head and lowered his voice to ask the old butler next to him, "Who is it that’s crying and fainted...?"

The old butler glanced in the direction of his gaze, pausing with a subtle expression, "Sir, that would be the fourteenth young lady."

"Fourteenth?" Seldon raised an eyebrow slightly, "I remember she’s not yet twelve years old."

"Yes." The old butler’s voice became even lower, "She actually... didn’t see the old Duke much, probably scared by the grand scene."

Seldon withdrew his gaze, the corner of his mouth twitching imperceptibly.

Crying out of fright, he sneered inwardly.

This child who can hardly distinguish who their father is now has to kneel here, waiting to inherit.

A bunch of swine, only I am the sole heir.

......

The mourning music subsided.

Seldon stood up, walked slowly toward the central podium of the church.

This was the moment he had waited for too long.

His steps were calm and steady, even deliberately letting his shoulders slightly sag for a moment, as if bent by grief.

Then he straightened again at the next step, the best posture of assuming responsibility while in mourning, everything perfectly fitting.

He stood firmly, raising his eyes to look around.

Countless eyes focused on him, expectant, scrutinizing, calculating, awed...

Nobility, church court clergy, officers, trade guild representatives... everyone of real weight from the Southeast Province was here.

Seldon spoke, his voice deep and restrained, "Father, was a lion entrenched on this land his entire life."

He turned to the side and touched the cold coffin, pausing for exactly three seconds, the recommended optimal duration by the etiquette officer.

"He taught us loyalty and also taught us responsibility. But he belonged to the old era." He turned to face the crowd, "The lion is gone, but winter has not descended.

On the contrary, the holy light will illuminate the Southeast."

A brief pause.

"I, Seldon Calvin" he raised his right hand, under the lights, the seal ring on his thumb reflecting a dazzling light.

"Hereby swear by the blood of the family, I will take on this heavy crown. This is not merely a transfer of power...

But the starting point of a sacred covenant between the Calvin Family and the supreme Church Court!"

He felt the texture of the ring clearly.

The real patriarch ring, made of deep-sea silver, whereas the one clasped on his thumb now was a hastily crafted gold-plated imitation, like a cold dead thing.

"Damn old thing..." A moment of irritability surged from Seldon’s heart, "To disgust me once more before death, where did you hide the ring?"

His gaze flickered subtly toward the main seat.

Yet Solomon’s gaze did not fall on his hand at all, those gray eyes were looking over the crowd, unsure of where they were directed.

Seldon’s tension eased instantly, even a hint of mockery arose: "As long as the treasury is in my hands, as long as those millions of gold coins remain, I am the real one."

The ring might be fake, but as long as the power is real, it is enough.

He straightened his spine again, amidst the thunderous applause, his face showing the perfect blend of grief and determination.

......

After the funeral, the clouds outside the cathedral had not yet dispersed, but the Duke’s residence was already brightly lit.

The banquet was arranged in the most luxurious main hall.

Crystal chandeliers layered down, candelabras and alchemy light balls mixed, lighting up the entire hall as if it were daytime.

The long table was covered with silver plates and gold utensils, red wine swirled gently in the goblets, reflecting a warm gloss.

Seldon sat in the main seat, holding a wine glass, with a perfectly poised smile at the corner of his lips, watching batches of Southeast nobles bow to toast.

"To the new Regent King."

"To the glory of the Calvin Clan."

"To the future of the Church Court and the Southeast."

Toasts came one after another, like gentle waves lifting him to the heights of power.

Seldon responded one by one, smiling, enjoying the moment.

Father was dead, and the Emperor is like a caged bird controlled by the nobility and the church court.

And the church court requires him, needing him, who understands how to silence the nobility and make the common people obey, as a worldly agent.

"I am not a puppet forced up here." Seldon concluded calmly in his heart, "I am the only one who can maintain balance, the operator."

The banquet was in full swing.

The musicians played a lively yet hollow melody, the noblewomen whispered, the air mixed with the aroma of wine, roasted meat, and spices.

At this moment, the Knight Captain approached him, bending down, voice extremely low.

"Sir... His Majesty Lampard..." He paused for a moment, as if deliberating his words, or as if he dared not finish, "has disappeared."

The wine glass in Seldon’s hand trembled sharply, his breath momentarily faltered, then forcibly steadied.