"Ensuring Grand Duke Ferdinaers Strasb safely is my mission for this trip. Let that vampire go for now—there will be other ces to kill him."

  Charlot nodded and followed this "Senior Lady ander."

  Truthfully, upoing Menielman, he felt more rexed and even wao ask: "Senior, how have your matters been?"

  However, Menielman had already engaged with the assassins, leaving him no choice but to put away his Anti-Space Le Rifle and, gripping his alchemical Battlefield e, join the fight.

  He wasn’t skilled with the sword, and his skills with the e, derived from swordsmanship, were equally poor. His participation in the fight was mostly for show. The real bat power y in Menielman Soumet, the Empire’s First Rose.

  Menielman, a high-ranking Transdent, swiftly ehe battle within minutes. She stood silently by Grand Duke Ferdinand’s side for a moment but didn’t know how to sole him.

  The love story between Grand Duke Ferdinand and his wife was known across the Old ti. Though Menielman had stopped believing in love after her own fiancé turned out to be a degee, she still deeply respected this pair of lovers who shared life ah.

  Charlot approached Menielman, observed for a moment, and then whispered softly, "Honorable Grand Duke, the ground is too cold. We ot let the Duchess lie there like this."

  The otherwise unmovable Grand Duke Ferdinaed to these words, pressing his hand to his chest and murmuring, "You are right. The ground is too cold. Help me carry Josephio the carriage."

  The guards awkwardly lifted the Duchess and pced her on the carriage. Grand Duke Ferdinand gripped his wife’s hand, still and silent like a wooden statue, tears flowing quietly.

  Menielman gave Charlot a gesture of approval before anizing the men to leave the mountain pass, heading straight for Strasb. Before they had gone far, reinforts began arriving—teams of city patrol guards marg to the se.

  On the way, Charlot finally found a moment to ask Menielman, "Senior, which department have you been transferred to now?"

  Menielman g him and replied, "I already know about your performahis time."

  Her evasive answer made Charlot’s heart settle even more.

  Looking into the distance, Menielman said, "You have two choices: I get you transferred out of Kilmainham Prison, arranging a clerical position where you tinue as a civil servant. Or, you switilitary service, but your post will be uain—it might be far away, somewhere outside Strasb."

  Charlot pced his hand over his chest and said resolutely, "I’m willing to trao military service!"

  With a mentor like Menielman to rely on, how could he not seize the opportunity? Staying in a clerical job without such a strong backer would make promotion nearly "impossible."

  Menielman lowered her void said, "No matter what you’ve seen this time, don’t mention it to anyone—including me. Not a single word."

  "Otherwise, I won’t be able to protect you either."

  Charlot had briefly sidered whether exposing the e between the Byron people and the Bck Phoenix Dynasty in the assassination of Grand Duke Ferdinand could earn him another promotion or a pay raise. But Menielman’s warning poured over him like a bucket of cold water. He immediately replied, "I will remember your teags, Senior."

  Politics was plicated. Charlot knew he olitiovice, so he chose to trust Menielman, staying ho and silent rather than trying to act clever.

  Near Strasb, no fewer than two hundred city patrol guards escorted Grand Duke Ferdinand into the Empire’s capital.

  Charlot exhaled softly. Proteg the Grand Duke was no easy task; he’d feared a sudden group of assaints might jump out and kill indiscriminately, himself included.

  Though he was from the Behemoth Principality, he held no particur loyalty trand Duke Ferdinand.

  Onside Strasb, Menielman handed over the city patrol guards to a hurried officer and ceased esc the Grand Duke. Naturally, Charlot followed his senior, ready to ask what they should do —after all, he still had a dismissal order in hand.

  Just then, three gunsh out, followed by cries:

  "Assassins! Grand Duke Ferdinand has been killed! There are assassins—quickly, catch them! Grand Duke Ferdinand has been shot! Open fire..."

  A chaotic volley of gunfire followed, clearly indig that the assassin had already been gunned down.

  Charlot’s heart turned cold. Frand Duke Ferdinand to be killed even after entering Strasb could only mean that those who wanted him dead weren’t limited to the South Seraph restorationists and the Byron people. As for who else might be involved—Charlot dared not even think about it.

  Menielman visibly rexed, unfazed by the Grand Duke’s death. She remarked, "He wasn’t assassinated on our watch. This has nothing to do with us anymore."

  "By the way..."

  "The hundred-plus Extraordinary ons that went missing from the prison were most likely sold secretly by the new warden, Magru Trell. None have been recovered, apparently."

  "Because of you, Mrs. Pascal and a few other intermediaries insist the new warden was behind it."

  "Thank you!"

  Charlot bowed slightly, recalling when Mrs. Pascal had e to him. He vaguely remembered saying something casually, but how that tied back to her acg the new warden, he had no idea.

  Not delving deeper into it, he felt both relieved and a little ahinking to himself, "I wao take revenge personally, but Magru Trell has already fallen?"

  He couldn’t find a way to vent this frustration.

  Menielman patted him on the shoulder and said, "I’ll have you hahis case as a small reward."

  Charlot was immediately thrilled.

  He smiled slightly and said, "I will ehe case is handled fairly and acc to the w. I will make certain that Mr. Magru Trell does not suffer any unwarranted injustice."

  Menielman smiled faintly. "I trust your character."

  "I’ll give you three days off. After that, go to the prison and sort this case out. Then, wait for your transfer orders."

  "The Empire is on the brink of war! Every empire on the Old ti will be dragged into it, and eveions of the New ti may join in."

  "Prepare to make your mark on history!"

  Charlot nodded, watg his senior stride off with effortless grace. He murmured to himself, "I wonder hoeople will die."

  With a slight sigh, he reflected on the events he had personally witnessed. He had watched helplessly as the spark of war was ignited, yet he could do nothing.

  It was not a pleasant feeling.

  He knew, of course, that there was no way he could stop the war.

  The schemers had already set the table for war. As an ordinary transmigrator, he could only drift along with the current for now.

  Sighing again, Charlot called for a carriage auro 58 Elysée Avenue.