The rain outside the window continued to pour heavily against the rooftop, but the atmosphere inside the dining room had grown ten times more tense than before.
“Father,” Allen broke the silence, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the table.
“As nobles who wear robes, we should support Princess Charlotte, right? She belongs to the Moderate Faction.”
Bernard gave a bitter smile and shook his head, exhaustion deepening the lines on his face.
“Precisely because we should be, yet aren’t, we have become a thorn in the side of the Iron Faction.”
He sighed heavily, his voice carrying the weariness shaped by harsh reality.
“Son, the cruelty of political struggle far exceeds what you can imagine.”
Allen understood immediately.
As a transmigrator, he had an innate sensitivity to political games, and he instantly grasped the helplessness behind his father’s apparent fence-sitting.
“Father, the real reason you’ve chosen to be a fence-sitter, hated by both sides, is that we have no real foundation. No matter which side we lean towards, we’re likely to be sacrificed at a critical moment—thrown out as scapegoats or used as pawns in a larger scheme.”
Bernard suddenly stared at his son, eyes filled with shock.
“Yes! You’re absolutely right! That’s exactly it! We fallen minor nobles are nothing more than disposable pieces to those big players!”
“The Iron Faction is dealing us a death blow now to make an example out of us! Using the tragedy of the Laval Family to pressure other hesitant minor and middle nobles to pick a side quickly! If they don’t, they’ll end up like us! This is their open strategy!”
“So, does that mean,” Allen felt a chill crawl up his spine, “we’ve become the target of everyone’s arrows? All hostility points at us? The Iron Faction wants to crush us to set a precedent, and the Moderate Faction may just stand by, thinking we’re not loyal enough?”
“Exactly.”
Bernard’s voice was heavy as lead, each word weighted with despair.
“Picking a side is a dead end, not picking a side is slow suicide. Wolves circle all around; the Laval Family is dancing on a knife’s edge with no way out.”
Allen’s mind raced, desperately searching for a sliver of hope amid despair.
His father’s words spun like puzzle pieces in his brain, piecing together the kingdom’s political crisis into a complete picture.
The kingdom was not simply divided into two factions, but three:
The Iron Faction led by the Crown Prince, the Moderate Faction behind the Princess, and the Neutral Faction loyal to the old king.
Their political philosophies were respectively iron-fisted suppression, moderate reform, and maintaining the status quo.
But the old king had essentially given up; the Neutral Faction had lost almost all influence.
A triangle has stability—a physical property and a metaphor for the political “triangular balance.”
If one corner of this triangle disappears, the delicate balance is broken.
Logically, with the Neutral Faction gone, the struggle between the Iron and Moderate Factions should have intensified, but in the original Starshine Serenade, the siblings Charles and Charlotte had an unexpectedly good relationship.
The Kingdom of Lorraine had never entered the stage of the Xuanwu Gate succession law.
Some other force had filled the missing corner!
A sudden flash of insight struck Allen, and he blurted out, “Father, what role does the Church play in all this?”
Bernard was completely stunned, mouth slightly open, staring at his son as if he’d seen a monster.
He had just been rambling on, yet he hadn’t mentioned the Church once!
How did Allen suddenly think of it?
After regaining his composure, Bernard explained, “The Church…is a third party beyond the Iron and Moderate Factions.”
“Archbishop Lucien is very close with the old King Louis XI! His Majesty is now devoted to spiritual practice, avoiding even his own children but often summons the Archbishop. The Church’s status is above it all!”
Isn’t this the “two dragons not meeting”?
Could it be that the old king has truly taken the title of Heavenly Lord of Longevity?
Allen silently mocked in his heart, and the image of the Daoist Emperor—the mysterious “riddle man” in history—flashed across his mind.
“I’m asking without excess words: clouds in the blue sky, water in the bottle.”
The Daoist Emperor’s governing philosophy was that a ruler must hide like the Dao.
All things don’t see the Dao, but everywhere is Dao.
Ministers don’t see the ruler, but everywhere is the ruler.
The old king hides behind the kingdom’s political crisis—what role is he truly playing?
Is he really just shirking responsibility?
No!
A lightning bolt suddenly flashed through Allen’s mind.
He sharply caught a strong sense of incongruity.
Did the Iron Faction really have to go so far as to send mercenaries to openly block doors and pour paint to insult them?
Just to ruin their reputation?
That day, no one from the Laval Family was home—the father went to collect debts, while Allen, Marianne, and the steward had just returned from the Inquisition.
If they had all been home, would that confrontation have escalated into a bloody massacre targeting nobles?
After all, those mercenaries were armed!
Hiring foreign mercenaries to kill nobles outright would break all rules and be a last-ditch move of total betrayal!
If not for Allen’s clever intervention, the noble conflict would have immediately escalated beyond repair into bloodshed.
This did not fit the Iron Faction’s current strategy of forcing nobles to take sides—it was more like pouring fuel on the fire!
Someone was deliberately stirring up hatred between nobles to push the kingdom faster toward civil war!
Who was it?
The ever-watchful empire?
Or some conspirator hungry for huge profits from chaos?
“Archbishop Lucien is very close with the old king…His Majesty devotes himself to spiritual cultivation, seeing even his own children rarely but often the Archbishop…”
Bernard’s words thundered again in Allen’s mind.
An innate, almost passive “killer instinct” went into overdrive.
An unexpected name, wrapped in mystery, surfaced in his speculation.
The old king—
Louis XI.
Allen’s heart sank deeply.
The old king suddenly shirking duty, stirring up infighting among his children, tearing apart noble consensus.
On the surface, it looked like incompetence and folly, but upon reflection, it seemed like deliberate muddying of the waters!
What benefit could stirring the waters bring?
Isn’t Lorraine his kingdom?
Unless he had a deeper purpose beyond royal power itself!
The old king was once a cleric of the Church—did he know something?
Secrets about the Church’s hidden technologies?
Truths about reincarnation and humanity’s destruction?
To verify this shocking theory, Allen suppressed the storm in his heart and calmly asked, “Father, what happened to those mercenaries? Did the Palace Guards catch them?”
Bernard was still angry when mentioning those hyenas trying to tear at the Laval Family’s flesh.
“They got away! Damn it! They planned to escape through the Upper City’s East Gate, but today the East Gate was on lockdown by Palace Guards! They said there were roaming bandits, so the guards had to strengthen vigilance.”
“But when those bastards got close to the East Gate, it was like they suddenly sensed danger and turned sharply into a side alley, twisting and turning until they vanished! The cavalry couldn’t catch up! Those useless guards! Taking so much security tax and they can’t even catch a group of mercenaries! They’re just there for show!”
Allen fell silent, his gaze growing darker.
Palace Guards?
So conveniently showing up right on the mercenaries’ planned escape route?
This coincidence was too deliberate!
Were they really guarding against bandits, or waiting to “deal with” those expendable pawns who had completed their mission?
Could it really be him?
Allen’s eyes turned toward the palace, shrouded in the rain.
It seemed he had to find a way to infiltrate the Church quickly.
The Church and the old king might be plotting something.
In the Starshine Serenade Church arc, Livia was hunted relentlessly by the Inquisition, and something happened in Capital Lucien—players would not know.
Now, Allen needed to find out what exactly the Church and the old king were scheming.
Only then could he survive the coming chaos.
Allen collected himself, focusing back on reality.
“Father, has the Church always remained neutral on the issue of the throne’s succession?”
Bernard nodded hurriedly.
“The royal family and the Church have coexisted peacefully for centuries, relying on the Holy Ancient Contract: ‘The Sanctuary belongs to the divine, the Crown belongs to the monarch.’ The Church never directly intervenes in the kingdom’s secular affairs, strictly maintaining neutrality. That is their foundation.”
“I see.”
Allen nodded, a confident smile appearing on his face.
“I understand our family’s political crisis. Rest assured, I will find a way to get on the Church’s side and gain their protection.”
“Huh? Son, you really think you can do that?”
Bernard suddenly brightened.
“Indeed, instead of being a fence-sitter, better to rely on the Church.”
The problem was, the Church’s neutrality made that nearly impossible.
How could Allen pull it off?
“Father, don’t forget, I’ve received Divine Revelation,” Allen’s smile held a hint of mystery.
“Do you have any way to contact Archbishop Lucien? I want to speak with him.”
“Son…”
Bernard looked at Allen’s determined eyes and bit his lip, finally agreeing, “If you’re confident, I’ll help you contact him! I’ll risk my old face and try!”
“Of course, leave it to me, Father.”
Allen’s smile brimmed with confidence.
The two shared a knowing smile.
At this moment, Allen had a brand-new, audacious plan bordering on madness.
His solution to break the deadlock was written right in the Scripture.
“In the Last Age of Darkness, the Messenger of God will awaken within a Blank Shell. He will end this endless cycle of destruction, guiding lost humanity back to the divine paradise.”
Exactly!
Allen planned to bluff the Church that he was that Messenger of God!
Since Livia couldn’t be the one, why not let him take that role?
This idea wasn’t heresy per se, just pure blasphemy.
If Bernard knew his son had such audacity to impersonate the Messenger of God, he’d probably faint on the spot.
As the saying goes, the bigger the storm, the rarer the fish!
As a villain, without such courage, how could he compete with a domineering genius like Livia?
Allen dared to think this because he had the confidence to pose as the Messenger of God.
He was a transmigrator with knowledge beyond his era.
At the same time, he had deduced from the Scripture and the original Starshine Serenade that the world was heading toward destruction.
Just these two points alone could expose all the Church’s secrets.
From the Church’s perspective, a once widely despised villainous young master suddenly claims to have received Divine Revelation after nearly drowning, and on the same day severely injures a cultist—that itself was unbelievable, almost a miracle!
Then, this uneducated young master suddenly proclaims himself the Messenger of God, effortlessly revealing secrets the Church had hidden for a thousand years, and predicting humanity’s imminent doom—how could the Church not be shocked?
The Church’s choices boiled down to two:
Either believe Allen, or regard him as a demon sowing chaos.
The decision was theirs.
But Allen believed the Church would trust him.
He and the Church hated the endless cycle of despair more than anyone else.
On the subject of humanity’s final destruction, he and the Church had always been on the same side!
With a solution to the political crisis in hand, the next urgent, equally deadly problem awaited—
The financial crisis of the Laval Family!