Chapter 159: Decision

Robin instantly understood that the other side was forcing him to take a stance—either cut ties with the corrupt Wilk family and, in the name of justice, eradicate his own kin; or become a prey of "collusion" in the nobles' eyes.

"Alan!" Viscount Wilk's grip on his shoulder, warm with wine, said, "The Western Frontier Chamber wants to discuss iron‑ore business with you."

A smile creased Viscount Wilk's face in layers of wrinkles; he was completely unaware that he had already become fish meat on a chopping board.

Robin suddenly recalled that when he first arrived in Wilk Territory, this man had treated him like his own son, always putting him first, and even when he learned Robin could cultivate, he immediately taught him the family Breathing Method; there had never been a shortage of any cultivation resources.

Every time he carried out a mission, he would specifically keep tabs, contacting friends in the area—truly exhausting himself.

Thinking of the predicament Viscount Wilk was about to face, it lodged like a fishbone in his throat.

He subtly steadied his father's swaying frame, and from the corner of his eye caught the flickering glances of several counts whispering to each other.

Those people had long been watching the Wilk family's fat meat from the shadows; before they wanted to fatten it up and then slaughter it, but now that a Legendary Knight heir suddenly emerged in the territory, they were eager to carve out a share in the name of "justice".

Lia's fire of revenge was nothing but the most handy knife in their hands.

"Father, return to your chambers to rest first." Robin handed the wine cup to his attendant, "Tomorrow I'll accompany you to the stables to pick a new horse."

Watching his father's steps drift away, he turned toward Lia, the sound of his boot heels on the marble floor ringing especially clear.

As he approached, those noblewomen suddenly scattered like startled birds, and the air still lingered with the pungent perfume clinging to them.

"Tomorrow night I'll go to the Black Snake Club in the Red Leaf District; where shall we meet?" Robin lowered his voice, slipping the pendant back into Lia's palm, "But it's not to judge the Wilk family, it's to uncover the truth."

He stared into her astonished eyes, each word as hard as iron, "If anyone tries to use this matter to scheme against my father, I don't mind letting them know that the blade of a Legendary Knight can also cut a noble's throat."

Lia's finger joints turned white around the pendant, the jade's chill seeping into her palm; she lifted her head to stare at Robin, her eyes swirling with shock, anger and confusion: "You still want to protect him? Those secret‑silver mine schematics, fire seals—aren't they all ironclad evidence?"

Robin pulled her into the shadow of a hallway column, avoiding the prying gazes cast from the banquet hall.

Distant laughter rose from guests clinking glasses, mingling with the orchestral melody, striking a harsh echo off the gilt walls.

If it weren't for the occasional scrutinizing looks that annoyed Robin, tonight's victory feast would have been perfect.

"Before your father was assassinated, did he leave you any other clues?" he whispered, his gaze sweeping over the disheveled pearls in her hair, "Three years ago the Wilk Territory had just endured a plague, half the fields lay fallow—where did the funds come from to open the Eastern Frontier black market?"

Lia's eyelashes twitched violently, memories like shattered mirrors suddenly pieced together—a scene of the incomplete ledger hidden in her father's study secret compartment, the sloppy annotation at the end "behind…", and the half‑torn iris‑shaped brooch he clutched before death.

At that time she had been consumed by hatred, overlooking those details.

"Illicit secret‑silver mining requires moving troops, bribing officials, and clearing trade routes." Robin's fingertips traced a silent line on the hallway column, as if mapping a network of influence, "Even a viscount with heaven‑reaching abilities could never hide from the royal ears. Think carefully—who can dominate the Western Frontier and, after the incident, make all evidence point to the Wilk family?"

The night wind swept dry leaves into the long corridor, and Lia shivered. She recalled that over the past three years, the royal officials who were supposed to supervise Western Frontier mining had never set foot in the Azure Rock Valley.

She remembered that whenever her father mentioned the irregularities of the secret‑silver mine, several dukes in court would subtly shift the topic.

Those deliberately forgotten fragments now coiled around her heart like a poisonous snake.

"I know you don't believe me." Robin pulled the blueprint Lia had given him during the day from his coat, gently shaking it in the candlelight; the crackling edges of the fire seal flickered in light and shadow, "But look at the ink's color—it differs from the Wilk family's usual red lacquer, it looks more like—" He suddenly fell silent as footsteps sounded in the distance, hurriedly slipping the blueprint back into her hand.

Lia's hand trembling over the blueprint finally found her voice: "It looks like the amber gold unique to Duke Hok's lands." She lifted her head, the hatred in her eyes fading a bit, replaced by bewilderment and fear, "If it really is him, we're no match at all."

Robin gazed toward the brightly lit banquet hall, and through the carved window lattice he saw Duke Hok raising his glass to toast the guests, his silver hair shimmering softly in the candlelight.

"We don't have to be opponents." He clenched the severance sword at his waist, the royal emblem on the hilt digging into his palm, "As long as the truth comes out, someone will act on our behalf."

Noticing someone approaching, the two quickly went their separate ways.

The next day, night's veil hung low, the capital was wrapped in thick darkness, only the Red Leaf District remained ablaze with light.

This was the capital's most bustling commercial zone, where Pearl Harbor Street, Kaile Avenue, Lixin Street, and Hengshun Road intersected; shops lined both sides, taverns, moneylenders, jewelers—all could be found.

Colorful lanterns swayed in the breeze, casting the street in a kaleidoscope of hues, while the air was filled with the aroma of delicacies, the richness of wine, and the mingling laughter of the crowd.

In every alley, wandering minstrels plucked lutes, singing legends of heroes;

Jugglers tossed fireballs, drawing cheers from passersby;

Nobles in splendid robes brushed shoulders with commoners, intoxicated by the paper‑gold‑drunk clamor.

Robin wore a black cloak, the brim of his hat pulled down low, and hurried through the crowd with swift steps.

His destination was the Black Snake Club deep within the Red Leaf District.

The Black Snake Club was famed throughout the capital's underworld; on the surface it was a high‑end casino, its beams and paintings lavish to the extreme, where officials and nobles gambled fortunes.

In reality, however, it was a hub where Information Dealers, Black Market Merchants, and even some ill‑intented factions traded in secret, its backing forces tangled and unfathomable.

Robin kept an eye on his surroundings while quickening his pace.

He constantly felt pairs of eyes watching him from the shadows, a sensation like a blade pressed against his back that would not leave.

As he turned into a side alley leading to the Black Snake Club, a faint footstep came from behind, its rhythm deliberately slowed, as if trying hard to conceal its path.

Robin's heart tightened, yet his steps did not halt; he silently gathered order‑binding power, preparing for any situation that might arise.

The alley was deep and dim; torches on the walls flickered erratically, stretching Robin's shadow long and short.

The footsteps grew nearer, and suddenly a black silhouette darted from a corner, a dagger's cold flash flashing as it thrust toward Robin's back.

(End of Chapter)