Chapter 117
Yan and the Chief Instructor followed the guard, their footsteps echoing down the corridor to the visitation room. Unlike the grim cells, this room was surprisingly tidy, with iron chairs and tables neatly arranged, and a row of potted plants that seemed out of place in a prison setting.
“Your visitor will be here shortly, so no funny business—just sit tight,” the guard said with a cold warning before vanishing from sight.
The Chief Instructor tilted his head in confusion at the unexpected visit. “Is it the Crown Prince who has come to see us?”
“No, it’s someone I’ve called for,” Yan replied.
“You did?” The Chief Instructor frowned, but then a smirk crossed his face as he remembered Yan’s mention of a ‘joker card’ the day before. “It seems the letter I asked Sir Kyle to send has reached its destination.”
“Indeed.”
“Now might be a good time to reveal this joker card of yours.”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
Yan shrugged off the question with a nonchalant lift of his shoulders, eliciting a chuckle from the Chief Instructor. It was hard to believe this was the same person who had once obeyed his every command.
‘I’ll play along with your tune for now.’
But the moment Yan’s plan went awry, he would take control. Before being dragged to Fargo Prison, he had given orders to some senior instructors to prepare for an escape should the situation call for it. Even now, they would be analyzing the prison’s layout.
As the Chief Instructor gathered his thoughts, he turned to look at Yan, who wore a confident expression.
‘What is this joker card he speaks of?’
That’s when it happened.
Creak.
The door to the visitation room swung open, and someone strode in confidently. The Chief Instructor’s eyes widened in recognition.
“…Count Zion?”
The very person responsible for their unjust imprisonment in Fargo Prison had appeared before them.
“Ah, it’s been a while. I never imagined we’d meet like this when we last communicated through the message tube,” Count Zion said, taking a seat opposite Yan and the Chief Instructor. The knight commander accompanying him stood silently behind, like a shadow.
Count Zion’s disdainful laugh twisted the Chief Instructor’s face into a scowl.
“Don’t tell me this old man is your so-called joker card?”
“Yes.”
Count Zion looked puzzled by the conversation between Yan and the Chief Instructor, clearly unaware that he was the topic of discussion.
‘Wasn’t it him?’
Count Zion surveyed them with half-closed eyes, searching for any sign of a poor act, but it seemed genuine. He then placed a letter he had received on the table.
The Chief Instructor read the contents with a furrowed brow.
Count Zion, let’s meet and talk face to face. You won’t regret it.
“So, now that we’ve met, what is this conversation you’re so confident won’t lead to regret?” Count Zion asked with a sly grin.
Yan watched the tension between the two men before speaking up.
“Let’s put aside our feelings for now and have a conversation.”
“A conversation? Have you forgotten why we’re locked up here?”
The Chief Instructor’s voice rose with anger, but Count Zion just smiled slyly.
“Are you implying it’s because of me? Sorry, but you’re here because of your own crimes.”
The Chief Instructor burst into laughter at Count Zion’s mocking words.
“Ha! Old man, even now you spout nonsense? Shall I shut your mouth for you?”
The knight commander spoke up in a calm, threatening tone.
“If you threaten my lord again, I’ll be the one to cut your throat.”
“You? Against me?”
The Chief Instructor laughed, lifting the handcuffs that bound his wrists.
“Think these will give you a chance? You wouldn’t dare speak to me like this in the past.”
Yan sighed deeply at the escalating tension and slammed his hand on the table.
“Let’s save the pleasantries for later, shall we?”
He turned to Count Zion.
“You didn’t come all this way for a fruitless conversation, did you?”
Count Zion snorted.
“I came thinking the Chief Instructor would grovel at my feet.”
“If that’s what you expected, you’re free to leave.”
Count Zion laughed loudly, thinking Yan was bluffing.
“And if I leave? You and your master will remain criminals.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Then what’s your plan? I’m the one who put you here.”
Yan smiled slightly.
‘There are plenty of ways out that don’t involve you.’
He could use the letter from the sandstorm to solicit favors from nobles or officials as powerful as Count Zion, or he could trade with the Duke of Commerce using knowledge from before his regression.
But he had called Count Zion here for a simple reason.
“I believe the deal I’ll make with you will be beneficial in the long run.”
“You want to make a deal with me?”
“Yes.”
Count Zion laughed incredulously.
“What could you possibly offer me?”
“The dream you desire most. I can make it come true.”
“My greatest dream? Do you even know what it is?”
Yan smiled at Count Zion’s scoff.
“The title of Duke of the East, isn’t it?”
Count Zion’s face hardened at the response, and the Chief Instructor, too, was taken aback.
“What… what are you saying?”
Count Zion quickly regained his composure and leaned back in his chair.
“You seem to be under some delusion…”
“Then feel free to leave and return to your lands.”
Count Zion’s eyes darkened. Yan was not an easy opponent.
Yan looked at him calmly.
“What will you do? Will you hear me out, or will you leave?”
Count Zion met Yan’s gaze without flinching.
After a brief pause, he spoke.
“Let’s hear it.”
* * *
The Ambition Unveiled
Count Zion, upon realizing his ambition was exposed, let out a quiet chuckle.
‘…How does this brat know of my desires?’
Never had he shown his hand.
For decades, he meticulously crafted his plan to become the Duke of the East, eliminating anyone who stumbled upon his ambition.
And yet…
‘Even the special task force leader doesn’t know my true goal.’
But Yan, not even twenty, had pinpointed his deepest yearning.
They had hardly met, save for brief communications through a fool sent to the eastern front.
Intrigued, he couldn’t help but inquire.
“Before we proceed, answer me this. How did you learn I covet the dukedom?”
“It was due to Baron Jeren.”
“Baron Zeren? That imbecile who was dragged away?”
Baron Jeren was the commander of the eastern front, notorious for his negligence when Yan headed east.
“Yes, exactly. The moment I heard you planted that man in the eastern front, the pieces fell into place.”
“Just from that?”
“For someone like you, Count Zion, unskilled in martial feats, establishing a significant achievement is the only path to a dukedom.”
There are two ways to become a duke in the empire.
‘Martial Proof’ and ‘Great Achievement’
Most dukes ascended through ‘Martial Proof,’ defeating a current duke in combat.
The ‘Great Achievement’ is about earning a feat worthy of a dukedom.
Only one has risen through this method since the empire’s founding, by forcibly merging two small kingdoms with his family’s and territory’s might alone.
Many have made their mark in imperial history, but none other than him have claimed a dukedom.
In essence, one must expand the empire’s territory significantly, without aid, to earn the title.
Count Zion, puzzled, tilted his head.
“So? What does that have to do with anything?”
“The Dead Plains, bordering the eastern front, are vast enough to rival two small kingdoms combined.”
“…”
“And Baron Zeren, though commander, had no intention to cleanse or conquer. And you, Count Zion, appointed him. It’s hard to believe you’d do so without reason.”
“Haha.”
Count Zion’s laugh was ambiguous.
“That alone doesn’t quite convince me.”
“The rest, I guessed with intuition.”
In truth, Yan knew since his previous life.
Before his regression, Count Zion had been open about his ambition and did everything to ascend.
But that was unnecessary to disclose.
Count Zion stroked his chin.
“Alright, I think I grasp your point. Let’s move on.”
He tapped the table.
“How do you plan to elevate me to a dukedom?”
Yan straightened up with a wry smile.
“Isn’t it too early to ask that? The scales are still tipped in my favor.”
He implied a need for a fair exchange.
Count Zion scoffed.
“What have you done to tip the scales your way? I’ve received nothing from you. We should start from zero.”
“Since you’ve imprisoned us here, shouldn’t there be a price for that?”
“So, you’re saying I start at a deficit?”
“Isn’t that the correct calculation?”
“Haha, I could leave this place right now, and it wouldn’t matter.”
Count Zion stood up, seemingly indifferent.
Yan shook his head.
“It does matter.”
“…?”
“The moment you walk out, your dream will turn into a mere midsummer night’s dream.”
Count Zion furrowed his brows.
“How would you manage that?”
Yan grinned mischievously.
“If I start spreading rumors that the Duke of the East’s days are numbered, you’ll find yourself with a plethora of troublesome rivals… won’t you?”
“!”
The unexpected revelation cast a heavy silence over the room.