Just two days before the end of the three-month deadline, the quiet on the outskirts of Erna Village was broken.
Ian was invited by Raymond to leave the village.
Here, a magnificent Unicorn Carriage adorned with the White Maple and Longsword Crest awaited.
The carriage door opened, and a middle-aged man, draped in a deep purple velvet traveling cloak, his silver hair meticulously combed and his expression dignified, stepped down slowly.
Ian felt an immense pressure from this man, as if facing some ancient beast.
If Ian guessed correctly, this was the Duke of White Light, Frederick Connalt, father of Shirleyviel Connalt.
Frederick Connalt scrutinized the young man before him.
His looks were quite good, his temperament gentle and reserved, and his gaze clear and calm. More importantly, as a Legendary Sixth-Tier Mage, Duke Frederick could see at a glance that Ian possessed an impressive magic talent.
Although Raymond had already reported in detail, when Duke Frederick used Eagle Eye Magic to see his daughter reading quietly in the courtyard—
Her cheeks, slightly flushed, her focused gaze, the occasional whispers with Old Anna… all of it far exceeded even his most optimistic expectations.
And the one who had brought about all this was the black-haired youth standing before him.
“Mr. Ian, I am aware of your efforts.”
Duke Frederick was the first to speak, his voice low and powerful.
“I, Frederick Connalt, thank you on behalf of my family and myself for all you have done for Shirleyviel. …You have worked a miracle.”
He paused, and someone presented a scroll of parchment inlaid with small magic crystals, along with a bronze seal engraved with a white maple leaf and longsword.
“Mr. Ian, this is your well-deserved reward. Here is a deed, granting you legal ownership of Ximu Town and the surrounding three villages within the Connalt domain, together with a hereditary Baron’s title.
You will be entitled to form a Private Guard of up to fifty men, and enjoy the corresponding annuity and privileges……”
***
Such a reward could only be called generous. To rise directly from commoner to a landed noble was a dream countless people longed for.
Yet Ian only cast a calm glance at the parchment and seal, enough to drive ordinary men mad. He then raised his eyes, looked directly at the Duke, and slowly shook his head.
“Thank you for your grace, Your Grace, but my purpose in treating Miss Shirleyveil was not for rank or land. My mission here is nearly complete; this gift is unnecessary to me, and not what I seek. Please, take it back.”
Ian had only come here to correct Shirleyviel back to her role in the story.
As for joining the Connalt family, that would likely drag him into the plot, causing the story to deviate and ultimately leading to the collapse of the world.
That was not the ending Ian wanted.
Besides, ever since Shirleyviel’s Correction Degree reached 80%, that damn System had already assigned the next Correction Mission for the next heroine.
He had no time to play noble games in the Connalt territory.
Duke Frederick’s brow furrowed imperceptibly, a trace of surprise flashing in his eyes.
He had seen far too many bow to wealth and power, but someone so decisively refusing a tangible noble status was exceedingly rare.
“Mr. Ian, are you certain?”
“I am certain.” Ian’s answer showed not a trace of hesitation.
“Very well, a pity, Mr. Ian.”
The Duke was silent for a moment, then finally sighed, putting away the scroll and seal.
He truly felt regret—if such talent could be brought under his banner, his worth might far exceed that of a barony. But the other’s ambition did not lie here; it would be pointless to insist.
After a brief silence, the Duke’s expression returned to its previous gravity.
“Mr. Ian, you have refused the title and shown your principles. In that case, I hope you can understand and cooperate with what I must say next…”
***
Ian’s eyes flickered slightly, but he did not answer immediately, waiting for what would come.
The Duke took a deep breath, as if what he was about to say weighed heavily upon him:
“I must take Shirleyviel to the Imperial Capital…”
“A Royal Edict has come from the Kingdom. His Majesty the King wishes to choose a suitable marriage candidate for the newly returned Third Crown Prince.
All eligible unmarried noble ladies of Marquis rank or higher must travel to the Kingdom as potential candidates. Shirleyviel… she… is on the list as well…”
Duke Frederick sighed. As a father, he did not wish for his daughter to be sent to the Imperial Capital at such a critical stage of her recovery.
Moreover, Shirleyviel had only just started to recover, and yet he had already received a personal Royal Edict from His Majesty. It was hard not to be suspicious about certain matters.
“Mr. Ian, I know this is cruel. But I must beg your understanding—the Royal Edict cannot be defied. At the latest, we must depart in two days.”
After hearing the Duke’s heavy words, Ian fell silent, for the ‘Third Crown Prince’ who had suddenly returned was the protagonist of the story.
‘System, if I just let Shirleyviel go back to the protagonist’s side, does that count as completing my mission?’
[Ding, based on predictions, Shirleyviel Connalt. Current Correction Degree: 82%. Her mental state will reach complete stability within three months under the momentum of the plot, meeting the ‘correction complete’ standard.]
[Warning: There is a minor risk of fluctuation in this process (probability 0.13%). Recommendation: Ensure a smooth transition.]
Wuhoo~
As expected, the inertia of the story is strong. A mere 0.13% risk—there’s no need to worry!
After pondering for a while longer, Ian raised his eyes again and looked at Duke Frederick, replying:
“Your Grace, I understand. Miss Shirleyviel’s condition allows her to leave her recuperative environment……”
Duke Frederick let out a small sigh of relief: “That is well…”
“But Your Grace, Old Anna must accompany her. She is the one who has spent the most time with Miss, and knows her past habits best. With her at Miss’s side, she will have the greatest sense of security and familiarity, which is crucial for keeping her emotions stable.”
The Duke nodded. “Of course. Old Anna will go with her.”
“Secondly, you must also prepare a quiet Black Cat. It should occasionally appear in Miss Shirleyviel’s line of sight, but make absolutely sure she doesn’t see its eyes or touch it.”
“A Black Cat? I understand. I’ll arrange for a quiet Black Cat to appear in the procession and ensure that Shirley can see it from a distance, but will never have a chance to approach or touch it.”
Raymond had not told Duke Frederick that Ian was the Black Cat. This had been agreed upon earlier between Ian and Raymond—to never reveal Ian’s ability to transform into the Black Cat for extended periods.
Duke Frederick simply assumed it was a special therapeutic tool used by Ian and did not suspect further.
“That will suffice. It’s about time I took my leave.”
As he spoke, Ian was about to depart when the Duke called out to him.
“Please wait a moment, Mr. Ian…”