Chapter Sixty-Four: Stirring Up Trouble

Morby Mulan was more farsighted than one could imagine, endowed with extraordinary insight and intellectual depth, possessed grand ideals, and was mentally prepared to pursue them. In his previous life—and certainly in times past—such a person would have been met with skepticism by many, but truly great individuals always exist. Even those who raise doubts often wish, deep down, that such greatness were real.

When Mulan left Morby’s residence, he was still in a state of profound shock. As a prospective extraordinary being and a gifted traveler from another world, he could perceive—almost see—the brilliance emanating from Morby. It was the power of ideals and will, the purest radiance of humanity, unmarred by any element of mystery.

At the same time, Mulan felt invigorated. To witness such a person, someone who walked the path of predecessors and martyrs, made him more willing to believe in a bright future for human civilization, even in this world and this era.

No matter how strange the world of mysteries might be, there were extraordinary beings of justice and light as well. The Black Castle essentially represented the interests of the royal family and the powerful elite of the Dilgar Empire, while the Holy Sanctuary, though brighter, was tied by a thousand threads to the interests of religious authorities and nobility.

Yet the light Mulan saw in Morby was also a kind of power—a force that surely exceeded Morby’s own imagination. As a researcher in the arcane, Mulan knew well that this was, in essence, a trend forming the very fabric of the world. Through Morby, he had a vague suspicion or discovery: the powerful mental will of the idealist might be a force capable of breaking through limits and shattering shackles.

Mulan walked along an unfamiliar street, surrounded by more and more residents of Digo as the morning became properly underway. He looked back at the row of small houses; Morby had finally been persuaded by him to go to sleep, aided with a touch of mental suggestion. Otherwise, given Morby’s earlier excitement, he might have stayed up another day and night. Mulan knew well the agony of insufficient sleep and naturally hoped Morby would care for himself.

Now, Mulan was considering how to help Mr. Morby get those volumes published. The book expounding on capital could be deemed academic, which shouldn't pose much difficulty, but the others would be more problematic, at least in Digo.

Mulan arrived at the York District police station at his usual work hour. After greeting some familiar officers, he went alone to his office. With Ivan gone to the Holy Mountain and Hendel now a student at the Black Castle, the office was truly his alone. Still, the necessary work had to be done—it was time again to send money and letters.

This time, Mulan had drawn two extra pay packets, leaving him much more financially comfortable and allowing him to write letters without a grim face. He planned to increase each household’s support by two silver coins, and for those facing major troubles, he’d add more as needed. The content of the letters remained largely the same, with only a few needing changes.

Meeting Morby had brought him courage; now he felt ready to act on things he’d previously hesitated over.

He packed all the letters and money at once, carried two bags—one with today’s letters, one with replies received—and headed out. He delivered the letters directly to Digo’s post office, then returned to the hired carriage and gave the driver his destination.

“To the palace.”

The driver was momentarily startled, but after Mulan confirmed, he drove toward the palace, not daring to approach too near. His carriage couldn't pass the guard towers or the soldiers' gates.

Inside the palace, Nyshelriel was not handling affairs of state, but instead trying on new clothes in the dressing hall. The season was changing soon, and palace tailors and famed craftsmen of Digo had brought various styles—whether splendid or stately, each garment was a beautiful masterpiece, true luxury beyond the reach of commoners.

Nyshelriel admired herself in the mirror, radiant as a fresh blossom, cycling through new outfits.

Just then, a steward hurried over, not daring to enter the hall, and instead relayed a message through a maid, who rushed inside to convey it.

“Lord Jonst requests an audience?”

Nyshelriel frowned, glancing at the lovely clothes beside her.

“Have him wait; I’ll be there soon.”

Nyshelriel did not summon Mulan to the council chamber, but had him wait in her usual office. When Mulan finally saw her, twenty minutes had passed.

The queen wore a brand-new white gown, resembling a splendid bridal dress from a later age. Surrounded by maids and attendants, she entered the office, without any of her usual advisors. Mulan immediately bowed.

“Your Majesty!”

In truth, Mulan’s current position should not have allowed him direct access to the queen, but he held the nominal title of court mage, was valued by her, and rarely visited the palace. His sudden appearance, even interrupting Nyshelriel’s mood, prompted her to see him at once.

“Lord Jonst, I hear your work at the Black Castle has been exceptional?”

Mulan raised his head and spoke earnestly.

“These are merely my duties. The Black Castle used to be far too lax; if progress continues smoothly, it will train more talents for the Empire and become a truly efficient institution.”

Nyshelriel’s smile was radiant as she sat, fanning herself lightly.

“I also hear you are the most beloved professor at the Black Castle. None of the old wizards are as popular, and every one of your lectures is packed.”

“Your Majesty flatters me. The other professors’ courses are important and offer more choices; mine are theoretical foundations, which everyone should attend, so naturally more do.”

Her smile grew even brighter.

“No need for modesty, Lord Jonst. By the way, have you chosen your path? With your talent, once you step into the truth, the Empire will gain another trusted mage.”

Mulan looked at Nyshelriel, thought for a moment, then spoke.

“I understand Your Majesty’s regard for me, and am deeply moved. It is precisely because of this that I realize Your Majesty is a wise sovereign, which is why I chose to come today.”

Nyshelriel’s expression grew serious.

“What is it? Speak.”

Mulan straightened, struck his chest with a fist in the Dilgar military salute.

“Your Majesty, as a retired Dilgar Army officer, I must present a fact: there are issues with the pay for imperial veterans and the compensation for fallen soldiers. This is not an isolated incident—it threatens the military foundation of the Empire. I suspect similar causes lay behind the logistics problems in the last war. I hope Your Majesty will pay heed.”

Nyshelriel regarded Mulan with surprise. She already knew of this issue, but hadn’t expected Mulan, given his rank and promising future, to raise it face-to-face at such a time.

“Lord Jonst, the Imperial Army will conduct an internal investigation. The families you have supported will be specially prioritized for proper compensation.”

Mulan said nothing. The queen stood, walked to his side—despite wearing heels, she was still shorter than Mulan without his hat.

Nyshelriel walked beside Mulan, gazing at his profile.

“Lord Jonst, you should understand that this is not a matter a king can resolve with one word. Its existence reflects a series of problems. Your direct petition is both irregular and very dangerous.”

Mulan straightened further, turned to face her, fist to chest again.

“Your Majesty, as one of the Jonst family and a retired imperial officer, my sense of honor and loyalty to the Empire forbids silence. My rank is humble, my status low; I can only trust Your Majesty!”

“What if I am not a wise sovereign?”

Nyshelriel suddenly asked, and Mulan replied almost instantly.

“Then I would not have come today! My purpose was not to seek an immediate answer, but to confirm that Your Majesty has already foreseen and planned. I am satisfied!”

“You really know how to speak!”

Nyshelriel broke into a brilliant smile.

“Your visit today was unexpected, but very welcome... Oh, right, does this outfit look good?”

Mulan was caught off guard, and could only muster a reply.

“Radiant as the sun, Your Majesty!”

“Hahaha... Very well, you may go now.”

Mulan bowed and turned to leave, but as he neared the door, Nyshelriel suddenly called out.

“I will keep this matter in mind. Even if you sometimes feel I do nothing, when facing the Empire’s parasites, as one of its young elite—knight—will your sword swing for me?”

Mulan paused, turned to her again.

“Where Your Majesty’s will leads, my blade follows! I take my leave!”

Mulan departed, and Nyshelriel continued smiling, truly delighted.

As he left the palace, Mulan patted his head. This queen was formidable—he’d come to stir up trouble, had carefully analyzed the situation, but somehow it had turned into a loyalty rally.