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Stomp, stomp, stomp…

In the echoing heaviness of their footfalls, a fully armed guard patrol passed by.

The glow of the torchlight slowly dissipated as they moved away, and the courtyard was once again enveloped in darkness.

In the corner’s shadow, Colin subtly quickened his pace. Guided by the fleeting, barely discernable scent of blood, he gradually approached the northwestern corner of the Phoenix Butterfly Fort.

A wave of strong stench hit him, nearly causing Colin to faint.

It was the smell of horse dung.

Only then did Colin realize that he had arrived at the stables.

Damn it!

Colin cursed under his breath. The scent of blood was being masked by the odor of the horses, making it hard for him to determine its source.

Luckily, he was at the edge of the Phoenix Butterfly Fort. Colin started to search the area one by one.

Soon, he located the source of the smell again — the clock tower.

This was a hundred-year-old clock tower battered by elements. The speckled exterior and vines crawling all over it marked the passage of time.

Dong!

Exactly at one o’clock in the morning, the ancient clock tower emitted a deep and hoarse chime.

Hiding in the shadow nearby, Colin didn’t immediately move forward.

Because, with just a quick check, he had found three sentries hidden around the clock tower.

There was definitely something wrong here!

However, Colin wasn’t sure if he could enter the clock tower without alerting the sentries.

Just as he was about to leave, the heavy door of the clock tower suddenly opened.

In the hissing sound, a wheelchair was pushed out.

The face of the man in the wheelchair was indistinguishable, but Colin guessed his identity.

Franco Morrison — the father of Count Morrison.

After the old Count’s death, Franco, his son, was the rightful heir to the title. Unfortunately, Franco was severely injured in a battle many years ago and had been paralyzed since. Hence, the title passed on to his son, Saken Morrison, the grandson of the old Count.

Watching the retreating silhouette of Franco, Colin was lost in thought.

In the end, he quietly followed him.

Franco’s wheelchair didn’t move quickly. It was moving along the central axis of the Phoenix Butterfly Fort, heading towards the inner courtyard.

When they encountered a patrol of guards on the way, they immediately stopped to greet and salute Franco.

From their greetings, Colin confirmed Franco’s identity.

He followed for a while longer. Just as Franco was about to enter the main fort, Colin deliberately amplified his footstep and stepped out of the shadow.

As expected, Franco also stopped.

“Viscount Angler?” Under the faint moonlight, Franco recognized Colin.

“You are? Knight Franco?” Colin pretended as if they had run into each other coincidentally.

However, this was indeed their first meeting. Franco had not attended either the previous memorial service or the welcome banquet.

Knight Franco appeared to be in his fifties, with a gloomy temperament. His face was thin, his eyes narrow and long, and his thin lips lacked any color. He looked weak and frail.

Years of being paralyzed had reduced this once renowned Northern Knight to a state of extreme emaciation.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I couldn’t sleep, so I went out for a stroll. I hope I’m not intruding.” Colin smiled and approached Franco.

As expected, the scent of blood grew stronger.

“Of course not. I also couldn’t sleep, hence I came out for a stroll.” Franco nodded his head slightly, looking at his right hand.

While Colin was puzzling over this, the maid pushing the wheelchair softly explained, “Viscount, Sir Franco would like to shake your hand.”

Only then did Colin lean slightly and grasp Franco’s withered right hand.

It was cold and slick, like holding onto a dead fish.

“I apologize for not attending the welcome banquet. My health…” Franco apologized with a smile.

“No need.” Colin promptly released Franco’s hand and said with a smile, “You were injured in fighting the trolls. You are a knight worthy of respect.”

Franco laughed at himself: “I am but a wretched creature defeated by a troll. As for you, Sir, you annihilated a hundred thousand trolls outside Wind Roar Fortress, and personally decapitated the troll emperor before the Royal City!

Such a record truly befits a hero of the North Territory and a perfect model for all knights!

If not for my physical condition, I would have given you the highest Knight’s Ceremony!”

Colin waved his hands repeatedly, humbly replying: “I owe much to the valiant warriors. I dare not take sole credit.”

Franco smiled and then shifted the conversation: “Did Saken tell you that he wishes to marry Miss Nina?”

“Yes. Lady Grace indeed asked Vera to help arrange the match with the Count.” Colin thought that the other party also wanted to lobby for his son.

However, to his surprise, Franco slowly shook his head: “Can you tell Miss Vera for me, to please not agree to this marriage?”

“Oh? Why?” Colin was puzzled. Wasn’t this Morrison family obsessed with the ‘Noble Ladies of St. Hilde’? Why did this man not wish for his son to marry Nina?

Franco’s face darkened somewhat, and after some hesitation, he asked aloud: “Sir Viscount, do you know why the Morrison family is obsessed with marrying the daughters of the St. Hilde family?”

“Why?” Colin asked with interest.

“Have you heard of the theory of ‘bloodline purification’?” Franco countered.

Colin nodded.

It was a concept Scholar Doan had explained to him. Simply put, the people of this world firmly believe that bloodline is a crucial determinant of a family lineage’s potential strength.

The reason why the Holy Knight Family continually produces Holy Knights is because of their noble and sacred bloodline.

Thus, at one point in time, the nobles of the Bright Empire had been infatuated with the daughters of the Holy Knight Family, attempting to wed them into their family in the hopes of purifying their own bloodline.

However, the reality was brutal.

Since the founding of the Bright Empire, the number of Holy Knight Families had not increased. Those nobles marrying successive generations of daughters from Holy Knight Families discovered that there was no increase in strength within their own descendants.

On the contrary, such actions had only served to spread the influence of the Holy Knight Families through these marriages. Their efforts to purify their bloodlines merely solidified the ruling power of the Holy Knight Families.

Consequently, the nobles gradually lost interest in the daughters of the Holy Knight Families, and marriages became more pragmatic.

Only the Morrison family remained an exception, still adhering to the theory of bloodline purification, and persistently pursuing the daughters of the St. Hilde family.

With a solemn face, Franco said, “The Morrison family is deeply influenced by this theory. Owing to ancestral teachings and long-held traditions, they are blinded to reality. Therefore, I hope you can help me stop this tragedy from continuing.”

“Tragedy?” Colin was taken aback, “How could this be considered a tragedy?”

Pain flashed across Franco’s face, “You may not know this, but I originally had two brothers. One of them died in his youth, and the other… was born deformed and was estimated not to live more than a few years. Enduring non-human pain, he was mercifully ended by my father…

And my children… Saken is not my only child, but his siblings… Heh, if they are not mentally impaired, they are disabled!

Therefore, the bloodline of the St. Hilde family for us, is no longer a blessing, but a curse!”

Only then did Colin understand what Franco meant by a tragedy.

It seemed that years of intermarriage had gradually assimilated the DNA of the Morrison family’s bloodline to that of the St. Hilde family. Despite not being close relatives, they now shared similar genetic characteristics.

Therefore, the ill-effects of incestuous marriages gradually manifested in the younger generations of the Morrison family.

But in the eyes of Franco, who didn’t understand genetics, it had become a Bloodline Curse.

“Alright. I will convey your request to Vera, but I want to remind you that your mother puts great importance on this marriage alliance, so…”

“Thank you very much! I will personally persuade my mother on this matter.”

Colin silently sighed inwardly. This Morrison family was indeed complicated.

It was no wonder their direct line for three generations was a single line of succession with a significantly low birth rate. It turned out they invited these hardships upon themselves.

After that, the two of them casually chatted for a while. Colin discovered that Franco was quite optimistic about the current situation in the Northern Territory. He believed that the current chaos was only temporary and would soon settle down.

Colin couldn’t tell whether Franco was merely pretending to be polite or he was oblivious to the rapid changes in the outside world due to being sequestered within the castle.

Either way, he didn’t plan to delve too deeply.

What interested him more was why this man wanted to enter the clock tower late at night.

And why there was a lingering smell of blood in there?

Of course, Colin knew he couldn’t ask Franco such questions outright. So, after engaging in more idle chatter, he said his goodbyes and left.

Watching Colin’s figure gradually recede into the darkness, Franco suddenly asked, “How long has he been following us?”

The maid pushing the wheelchair shook her head: “I am not sure.”

Franco squinted his eyes, a cold glint flickering in them, and commanded:

“Add more people to the clock tower.”

“Yes, Sir.”