Re: Tales of the Rune-Tech Sage

Chapter 425: RavenLight Marquis

CH425 RavenLight Marquis

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Radiant Rose City, Luxen Duchy,

Lumeria Empire, Verdantis Realm

Radiant Rose City was the capital and economic heart of the Luxen Duchy, as well as the seat of its military and administrative power.

It stood among the most important cities within the Lumeria Empire—perhaps surpassed only by the Imperial Capital itself, which housed the Emperor’s throne and Lord Juror’s principal temple.

Even so, Radiant Rose remained one of the Empire’s greatest jewels.

The city was built along the Radiant Mountain Range, one of Lumeria’s natural wonders. Luminescent flowers and radiant shrubs flourished across the mountainside, bathing the land in colour by day and casting a gentle glow by night.

That the Luxen family had received Imperial approval to build their capital upon such an important—some might even say holy—site was itself a quiet display of their influence and power.

Remarkably, the city’s architecture had been planned with extreme precision. Damage to the mountain’s ecosystem during construction was minimal, and whatever harm occurred was swiftly rehabilitated. The result was a breathtaking metropolis seamlessly woven into a living sea of light.

Radiant Rose was beautiful in the afternoon.

But at night, it was truly mesmerising.

Without the need for artificial illumination, the city glowed naturally, living up to its name like a rare flower blooming beneath the stars. Many travelled great distances simply to witness the sight, claiming it soothed the mind and purified the spirit—rumours that only strengthened its supposed holy reputation.

However, as the capital of a powerful duchy within a vast empire, not everyone came for beauty or peace.

Many came for far uglier reasons.

On this night, within the noble quarter of Radiant Rose’s inner city, a man stood by a window overlooking the glowing skyline.

There was no admiration in his eyes.

Only a cold, predatory gleam—one filled with ambition and barely restrained greed.

The reflection in the glass revealed a handsome, refined man in his early thirties. His attire was immaculate, unmistakably tailored from the finest materials—luxuries equivalent to branded item in Alex’s past life world.

His posture was commanding, his features sharp, and his bearing unmistakably noble –not just any noble, but High nobility.

His name was Marquis Asher Luxen.

Marquis of Ravenlight—and more importantly, a direct scion of House Luxen.

As Asher gazed upon the luminous city, the door behind him opened quietly.

A middle-aged man entered and bowed respectfully.

”My Lord Marquis.”

”Count Welfer, you are back.” Marquis Asher Luxen greeted him with a faint smile—about the warmest expression his usually stony face could muster. ”You bring good news, I trust?”

”Yes, my lord Marquis.” Count Morgan Welfer nodded. ”I have successfully secured Helton’s barony while providing the clergy with a satisfactory explanation. They appeared pleased with the response and will most likely allow the arrangement to proceed.”

”That is good.” Marquis Asher nodded. ”Is the claimant to Barnsil secure? Are we certain the local lords will not be able to protest your presence?”

”Lady Helton has agreed to bind our two houses through marriage,” Count Morgan replied smoothly. ”In exchange, I will dispatch troops to Barnsil to stabilise the territory until its young lord matures enough to build his own forces and formally assume his father’s domain.”

He paused, then continued with a tone of practiced sincerity.

”As far as anyone is concerned, Baron Helton was a close friend of mine in life. Now, following his unfortunate passing, the mother of his children will marry into my house. I have more than sufficient justification to maintain a military presence in the region.”

”If the court permits,” he added, ”I may even serve as regent until my dear nephew—and soon-to-be stepson—is ready to rule.”

”Haha!” Marquis Asher laughed. ”Well done, Count Morgan. I will personally see to it that the court names you regent. Truly, only a compassionate man—one so deeply concerned for his late friend’s family—would shoulder such responsibility.”

Cold, calculating glints flashed through both men’s eyes as pleasant smiles remained firmly in place.

Marquis Asher stepped closer and placed a hand upon Count Morgan’s shoulder.

”Thank you, Count Morgan,” he said softly. ”I know this was not a small sacrifice on your part.”

”Think nothing of it, my lord.” Count Morgan waved it off. ”It is hardly a sacrifice. I have long held an interest in Lady Lara—and in the Swiftsong Merchant Company behind her. With this union, I am confident that her stubborn father will become far more receptive to cooperation. Naturally, that benefit would extend to your faction as well.”

”There are few drawbacks and many advantages,” he continued. ”As for the marriage itself... Lady Lara is still a woman. She will have her uses.”

A lecherous glint flickered through Count Morgan’s eyes.

For a brief moment, his thoughts wandered—imagining himself indulging in the perverted acts he had never dared attempt with his main wife, whose noble lineage placed limits upon his behaviour.

Marquis Asher noticed the look.

He did not care.

What did the fate of a baron’s widow matter, compared to Count Morgan’s utility?

Turning away, Marquis Asher approached a war board positioned upon a nearby table.

The board displayed the expanse of the Lumeria Empire, with particular emphasis placed upon the Luxen Duchy.

Marquis Asher picked up a white board piece and placed it at the southern edge of the Luxen Duchy on the map—precisely over the location of Barnsil Fortress.

If one observed the board carefully, they would notice that there were three major routes in and out of the Luxen Duchy.

Each of them was now marked by a white piece.

”My father is still away at the Imperial Capital,” Marquis Asher said calmly, ”while that foolish elder brother of mine has led his followers deep into the Great Berserk Beast Forest. At present, there is no one in court capable of opposing your appointment as regent of Barnsil—temporary or otherwise.”

”And by the time the Duke returns,” Count Morgan smiled, ”I would have already served as regent for several months. At that point, it would be far easier to convince him to legitimise my position than to remove me.”

He understood Marquis Asher’s intentions perfectly.

Marquis Asher returned the smile. One of the reasons he favoured Count Morgan was precisely because the man was quick to grasp unspoken designs.

Turning back to the board, Asher’s gaze drifted toward the opposite end of the map.

In his mind, he could already see another player, moving black pieces across the board.

’Foolish older brother of mine... you play the game, but you do not understand the rules. And in the end, that is why you will lose.’

’While you squander your time and forces pleasing the clergy and seeking Father’s approval through hollow military exploits, I will quietly seize the economic and administrative lifelines of the Duchy.’

’Once I control logistics, trade, and governance, I will no longer need Father’s acknowledgement... nor the clergy’s blessing.’

’I will force Father to acknowledge me. And I will make the clergy accept me.’

’In the end... everything will belong to me.’

Marquis Asher’s thoughts were cold, precise, and utterly devoid of hesitation.

”Has that man come to his senses?” he asked casually, idly nudging a red board piece positioned at the very centre of the Luxen Duchy.

”No,” Count Morgan shook his head. ”In fact, it appears he has abandoned neutrality entirely and thrown his support behind your elder brother.”

Marquis Asher sighed and shook his head. With a flick of his finger, he tipped the red piece over.

”It is a pity,” he said mildly. ”Losing a Combat Saint will be a significant blow to the Duchy.”

Then his eyes hardened.

”However, a great tree must sometimes be cut down... to clear the path for progress.”

He turned to Count Morgan.

”Do you understand?”

”It will be done, my lord.” Count Morgan bowed deeply.

Marquis Asher returned his attention to the board, his mind already weaving the next layer of schemes.

***