When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#582 - Chapter 578: The Saint's Favor and the Rune Craftsman

"What should I say when I meet Lord Lorenzo?" Inside the Summer Palace, the residence of the King of Fran, Giganon nervously tugged at his rented, expensive suit, whispering to the servant waiting with him.

The servant was a noble youth dressed in a wide-sleeved, narrow-bodied outfit of red and blue, with fair skin, red lips, and neat bangs reaching his eyebrows. The voluminous long hair on either side fell to his shoulders, like a helmet on his head, a fashionable hairstyle among the young nobles of Fran.

He sized Giganon up and down, a hint of disdain in his eyes: "Mind your manners, err on the side of excess, and remember one thing: treat Lord Lorenzo as if he were the Vice-King."

Giganon nodded as if understanding, straightened his body, narrowed his eyes, and repeatedly went over the hastily learned court etiquette in his mind.

"Creak—"

The oak door studded with nails was pushed open, and a small monk with a Pauline Mediterranean hairstyle poked half his head out from behind the door: "Lord Lorenzo has time now, you may enter."

"Very well." Giganon took a deep breath, quickly smoothed out his clothes, and stepped into the small study.

If no one told you, no one would believe that the small room at the end of the corridor in the Summer Palace was actually the office of Lorenzo, the master spy and prime minister.

Lorenzo, standing in front of the bookshelf, was a gaunt middle-aged man with graying temples, the ends of his curved, drooping hair tied with black ribbons and draped over his shoulders.

He wore a fine woolen waistcoat with floral patterns and a pair of round-framed crystal tortoiseshell glasses on his nose.

He lowered his head, still using the morning light from the window to read the intelligence in his hand.

"Good momentum, but too much bravado." Lorenzo placed the declaration adapted from Horn's speech into the book to mark it and sat behind his desk.

Through his round-framed glasses, Lorenzo looked up at Giganon, and seeing him standing there stiffly, his mouth moving but unable to speak, he pointed to the chair beside him.

"Please, sit down, my friend."

Stuck in front of Lorenzo, Giganon forgot all the court etiquette, sat down with a red face and annoyance, and apologized in a wavering tone: "I'm sorry, I was too rude, Prime Minister."

This black-robed prime minister had served two terms, wielding power for twenty years. The new king's words were not even as effective as this prime minister's.

The number of nobles and wealthy merchants who had been thrown into prison, strangled, or exiled by this prime minister was definitely more than the number killed by that Holy Grandson Horn in Langsand County.

"You've met that Horn?"

Compared to the fast pace and slurred, lazy pronunciation common among the Fran people, the kingdom's prime minister, dressed in black, spoke slowly but powerfully, articulating each syllable clearly.

"I have, Prime Minister."

"What kind of person do you think he is? Please speak freely, without regard for anything else. I want to hear your opinion."

Giganon licked his lips and wiped the sweat from his face with a handkerchief: "He is very ordinary, with the appearance of a farmer, the build of a farmer, neither a great body nor elegant manners, but he is very clever and hardworking. He can work from morning till night, and he has specially set up a group of guards and spies to supervise the work of others."

Saying this, Giganon looked up at Lorenzo. This prime minister and bishop also had a group of spies monitoring nobles and officials.

He seemed to know everything, so he was called the 'Thousand-Thread Spider.' His dense network of information covered every corner, and he knew everything clearly.

"He is very strange. He often says 'Grandson of the Holy Father' instead of 'Son of the Holy Lord,' because the Holy Lord is a virgin goddess, but on the other hand, he even gives me a feeling of disrespect for the gods, often uttering vulgar words.

But as a farmer, he does have an innate talent for governing the army and governing, managing Langsand County in an orderly manner with a group of surrendered monks with unclear intentions, and defeating Prince Condé with a group of cowardly farmers."

After listening to Giganon's account, Lorenzo tapped his fingers lightly on the table, as if in thought.

Giganon did not dare to interrupt, and just sat motionless.

"Thierry!" Stopping his tapping on the table, Lorenzo called out towards the door.

The noble youth with the iron helmet poked his head out from behind the door: "You called for me, Your Excellency?"

"Mr. Thierry, please bring the white sugar over."

"Yes, Lord Lorenzo."

Before long, a gilded silver plate was brought over, with a pile of tested, slightly yellow crystals in the center. Lorenzo picked up a white porcelain spoon and scooped a spoonful into his black tea.

After taking a sip of the black tea, he asked: "Did you see them make this sugar with your own eyes?"

"Yes, they use alchemic formulas to produce it on a large scale, and they're not afraid of us imitating them at all." Giganon said with a wry smile, "Black Serpent Bay and the Salvation Army must have a good relationship, they've transferred a large number of alchemists to them."

"There hasn't been a large-scale transfer of alchemists from Black Serpent Bay." Taking a sip of black tea, Lorenzo denied Giganon's statement.

Giganon was stunned and subconsciously wanted to retort, but he held back.

Although alchemists were common in Black Serpent Bay, it didn't mean they were common elsewhere. In the four or five million population of Thousand River Valley, it would be good to have two hundred alchemists and witch doctors.

"I heard they have a group called the Favored Ones?"

"Yes, Your Excellency." Giganon nodded in response, "But they are actually alchemists, just with a different label, and their numbers are no less than a thousand."

"Do you know how these Favored Ones are emerging?"

Giganon shook his head awkwardly: "I don't know. Most of the Favored Ones have a military background, and our people can't infiltrate them. Several have even been caught by their Cheka."

Lorenzo didn't speak, staring directly into Giganon's eyes.

Although he was telling the truth, Lorenzo didn't say much, but an invisible sense of oppression still spread in the room.

Cold sweat dripped from his forehead, and Giganon's handkerchief became wet.

However, fortunately, the black-robed prime minister did not continue this state for too long. He picked up the bone china tea tray, held the whirlpool-leaf gilded black tea cup, and stood by the window: "In a while, someone will contact you. He has higher authority. Since you are the temporary representative of the Royal Trading Company in Thousand River Valley, use this position to dig out the secret of how they mass-produce alchemists."

Although he didn't know why Lorenzo was so sure that the Salvation Army could mass-produce alchemists, the surprise of being the representative of the Royal Trading Company was indeed a solid hit to Giganon's head.

What was the concept of a regional representative of the Royal Trading Company?

Although Thousand River Valley was a new region, he was a temporary representative, and he was not the only representative, it still meant immeasurable prospects.

With this representative position, it meant that he was one of the royal family, and had already stepped half a foot into the new circle of nobles in Flower Hill City, no longer an ordinary merchant.

In Fran's circle of power, power and wealth have always been mutually convertible. Those who stubbornly defend power and those who stubbornly defend wealth will be besieged by the new nobles who seize both power and wealth.

"I will certainly not fail your trust." Giganon stood up suddenly and gave a chest-stroking salute with extremely deliberate and mechanical movements.

Until Giganon was sent away by Thierry, Lorenzo did not ask about the profits and economic issues of the sugar and grain trade.

The Great Fran Kingdom is vast and rich in resources, possessing everything.

What money could be made from a mere Thousand River Valley, which was still located in the economically backward territory of the Leia Kingdom?

But even if he lost a little money, Lorenzo could accept it.

He just wanted to figure out one thing: where did they get so many alchemists?

What the Saintly Way Sect, what clockwork rifles, what sugar and grain trade were all irrelevant. This was the key question.

Holding the teacup tray in his left hand, Lorenzo took out a thick notebook from the dust-covered bookshelf. He skillfully flipped to a page with one hand, looking at the directory on it.

From the "Noble Glory Act" to the "Royal Knight Memorandum," from the "Clement Civil Code" to the "Navigation Act," finally, his gaze aimed at the lower-middle position, the "Rune Craftsman Legalization Act."

Holding the gilded white porcelain teacup, Lorenzo stood by the glass window.

Looking at the Old Bridge District, where black smoke was rising, he gently blew on the smoke on the teacup in his hand, as if he could blow away the black smoke in the Old Bridge District.

"Horn… Thousand River Valley…"