Pa.
Green set down the Adventurer’s Journal in his hand and rubbed his eyes.
There was no one else in the Adventurer’s Guild Library; only his solitary figure flickered faintly under the lamplight, shadows wavering.
“That Sheriff…”
Green’s thoughts were complicated as he reflected on the simulation of life, picturing that heinous, unredeemable Sheriff whose countless crimes had ultimately led to him being hanged high at the execution ground, body swaying in the wind.
Before death, even those who once wielded unchecked power and authority were just as pale and powerless as the commoners they once looked down upon—there was not the slightest difference.
But the Sheriff’s last words before dying still lingered deep in Green’s mind.
“Old Andy’s boss, Anna?”
Although he had long prepared countermeasures for the Second Prince’s blockade, he remained very interested in the information the Sheriff had left behind.
With the Prince’s endorsement, the Governor’s enforcement of the trade ban was certainly harsh beyond compare.
And yet, the Sheriff claimed that Andy’s boss had broken through the blockade?
This alone was enough to draw Green’s attention.
Since he had resolved to help Theresa claim the throne, he naturally needed to find ways to compensate for her most glaring weakness—the lack of talent in her camp.
Her maternal clan was only minor nobility, and the honors she herself once enjoyed were gifts from the Emperor. Ever since Theresa had been exiled and stripped of her right of succession, the Seventh Princess was left with no one at her side, reduced to a lone commander without any troops.
Now, thanks to Green’s efforts, Old Father Martin and Colonel Ryan, two people with notable military experience, had vaguely shown willingness to pledge loyalty to Theresa, but for a contender to the throne, this was far from enough.
Therefore, the “Anna” mentioned by the Sheriff before his death had entered Green’s sights.
“But that Miss Anna is definitely not as simple as an ordinary merchant.”
In fact, Green had long suspected that Old Andy was far from simple; he was certainly not just some border peddler.
Despite his disguise as a humble small trader, not only could he safely conduct business alone on the wild frontier with the barbarians for years, but he could also maintain connections with both the Sheriff and the Tax Guild Chairman.
At first, Green even thought Old Andy might be a confidant of those two, but after thorough investigation, it turned out that aside from harmless bribery and helping the quartermasters sell off misappropriated supplies for cash, Old Andy had never really taken part in their crimes.
Considering that he had deceived the barbarians for the fortress—though he himself hadn’t realized it at the time—it could be seen as making amends, enough to pardon him from punishment and allow him to continue running his “Little Business”.
Is this something a “normal” merchant could do?
By extension, his subordinates couldn’t possibly be ordinary either. For instance, Miss Anna, who could freely come and go under the eyes of the Imperial Army, disregarding the bans decreed by both Prince and Governor—just who was she?
“Still,” Green narrowed his eyes, “that all depends on whether the Sheriff’s last words before death were true.”
Should he trust that utterly corrupt, villainous Sheriff?
After a long silence, Green nodded heavily.
He did trust him.
The Sheriff was not a good man, that was beyond doubt.
But in Green’s mind flashed that fleeting trace of relief on the Sheriff’s face as he mounted the gallows.
Was it for revenge on the Second Prince who had abandoned him?
Perhaps, in part.
Yet Green believed that the regret in the Sheriff’s eyes was the look of a man who, in the face of death’s judgment, finally recalled his former integrity.
He remembered when he had personally visited the town’s old residents, gathering stories for his bardic compositions and hearing all kinds of anecdotes.
“You mean the Sheriff?” In the tavern, his former miserly employer, upon hearing the question, did not show the same pure hatred as the other townsfolk.
“Tch, you made it big and don’t even think of looking after the old boss who once took you in?”
In the dim tavern light, the boss’s chubby cheeks were full of complaint.
“I’m just here collecting material for my stories!”
Dragging over a chair, Green plopped himself down. “Now that I’m the Commander’s Staff Advisor at the fortress, when I spread tales around, I’ll be sure to mention your tavern too—won’t that bring in money?”
Clang.
Green pulled out the badge that symbolized his status as a soldier.
“Seventh-Rank Civil Official?” The tavern owner widened his eyes, looking Green up and down suspiciously—the very same Green he had watched fall into poverty, using up all his savings to become an adventurer, yet unable to land even a single commission as a bard.
Now, this same man had somehow become a Seventh-Rank Civil Official?
“So that means, uh, you’re about the same as a Captain in the army?”
The tavern owner took up the badge and studied it for a long time before finally grinning broadly. “Aiya, Green, you should have said so sooner. Alright, I dare say no one in this town knows the Sheriff better than me…”
What followed was a long series of stories, some true and some fabricated.
With his experience, Green could naturally distinguish truth from falsehood in the townsfolk’s accounts and piece together the Sheriff’s real life story.
“Hero to Villain, Only a Step Apart?”
That was the title Green gave his new tale.
“The fall of a man is just that simple. Sometimes, all it takes is a single catalyst.
Pa.
As he set down the quill, Green felt his mastery of bardic skills grow stronger.
“So that’s it. Advancement for bards is not just about accumulating mana. That sort of Pseudo-Advancement, though it appears to raise one’s rank, is only superficial.”
Sensing his newly acquired skills, Green shook his head. “The world thinks bards are just jacks-of-all-trades—knowing a bit of everything but mastering nothing.”
But they’re wrong.
A true first-rate bard is, in fact…
“…a terrifying existence who can directly script reality itself.”
In that case—
Green’s eyes glinted. “The legendary tale of Empress Theresa’s rise will begin with the death of the Sheriff, and the next scene is… breaking through the Second Prince’s blockade.”
Anna.
Green recalled the clue the Sheriff had given.
Come to think of it, why does that name sound so familiar?
Oh.
“Isn’t that the very Kingmaker I mentioned while collecting my earlier material?”
What a coincidence.
“By the way, I heard from Miss Betty that after failing the Hero Selection, those young ladies from the Star Moon Adventurer Team still wanted to join the Demon King subjugation and planned to try their luck with the Imperial Expeditionary Force?”
Thinking of this, Green couldn’t help but smile in amusement.
“Actually, those young ladies are quite capable, even extremely promising. Though none have broken through to Legendary yet, they’ve each already mastered several Legendary Skills. Once they can cross that final Legendary Threshold, the sky’s the limit.”
But how many people are held back by that seemingly tiny, one-step threshold?
Though in reality, because of the curse of the soul, he couldn’t fully unleash his strength, Green—whose vision had already reached Legendary, even the Legendary peak—could see clearly.
“If they don’t learn from this Failure, and still think it’s just a lack of strength, trying to force their way through the Threshold… tsk tsk, there will be a lot more suffering in store for them.”
But what does that have to do with me?
I’ve already been expelled.
Speaking of which.
Green stroked his chin. “I remember that Saintess in the Adventurer Team is a huge admirer of the Empire’s Iron-Blooded Empress?”
Now that the Imperial Envoy Delegation has arrived, and those young ladies couldn’t pass the Hero Selection…
“Still, with their current mindset, they’re sure to suffer.”
Green shrugged indifferently and decided to continue pondering the direction of his future script.