Chapter 168: Chapter 153: Immense Ambition

The underground stone chamber of Frost Spear Castle, damp, cold, mingled with the smell of scorching iron and blood, like some twisted purgatory.

Kalan was hung upside down on a torture pillar, his entire body stained with blood and filth, the once sturdy and upright figure now reduced to a spasming, twitching skeleton tormented by torture.

The torturer pressed a glowing red iron needle into the nerve junctions of his calf, instantly eliciting a tooth-grinding wail.

He screamed in collapse, his voice like the whimper of a trapped beast, repeating what he had already said: “It’s Joseph! It’s Joseph Kadari! He was the one who approached us first… he willingly offered the maps!

He provided the defense maps of the Southwest of the Empire! Even the changing of the guard times at the Empire’s southwestern watchtowers, it was all written by him…”

Duke Edmund stood silently before the torture rack, flipping through a ledger and notebook from the Silver Plate Guild.

The pages were slightly curled due to blood stains, but the handwriting was clear, even Joseph’s signature was scrawled yet genuine.

He stared fixedly at those words, lost in thought.

Kalan gasped heavily: “I…I was just a middleman…transport, allocation, sending people and materials as needed… Joseph was the one… he wanted to become the ’bridgehead’ of the Federation…

He said he was marginalized by the family, wanted to use the Empire’s turmoil to make a name for himself… I beg you, I beg you to let me die… give me a swift end…”

The eyes that were once piercingly cold had now become dull and yellow, bloodshot, with sobs and whimpers tangled in his throat, indistinguishable between pleading or cursing.

“Why don’t you just kill me…” he trembled in a low voice, “you Imperials are more poisonous than the Federation…”

Edmund said nothing, only slowly turned to the next page of the notebook.

There, a list of noble demands was outlined in strange abbreviations:

“Giant Sun Potion×12, suitable aged female slaves (13-17)×18, West Ridge Private Salt, Demon Marrow, Soft Gold…”

He slowly closed the notebook, taking a deep breath, fury roiling in his chest, yet his face was surprisingly calm.

“It seems to be true, Joseph Kadari… you are truly audacious.”

He turned towards the Silver-faced Torturer: “Seal the throat, stop the bleeding, keep him alive. I want him to live, to spill every word Joseph spoke, every map he drew.”

“Yes.”

Kalan collapsed in a whimper, like a hunting dog whose bones were broken beyond repair, still forced to bite out a comrade’s name in despair.

And Edmund’s silhouette had already stepped into the long corridor at the end of the stone chamber, his voice low, as if it were both a command and a verdict:

“Prepare the Emperor’s secret letter! If this is true, it is not just treason! It’s a grave sin that shakes the foundations of the Empire’s Southwest!”

Duke Edmund returned to his office, silently picked up a wine glass, the liquid gently swirled inside, reflecting a dim light.

He took a sip, the aroma of the wine slightly easing the anger in his heart.

Those sharp grey eyes pondered for a moment, slowly exhaling, his gaze filled with indescribable fury.

“This madman…” he murmured, his voice low, tinged with disbelief and indignation.

This young man not only engaged in colluding with the Federation, infiltrating military transactions, but even dared to blatantly document these crimes in black and white records?

He understood why it was done, merely to show loyalty, but the audacity was simply shocking.

Duke Edmund lightly stroked the ledger’s cover, his fingertips cool, yet a blazing fire ignited in his heart.

And when thinking of the other young man who brought back these pieces of evidence…

Duke Edmund’s lips curled slightly, eyes sparkling with deep light, his gaze fixed on the desktop, his tone carrying a hint of pride:

“Louis… truly worthy of my selection, to uncover such a major case, with no piece of evidence missing, no prisoners overlooked, even those piles of gold not a single coin embezzled, all secured and sent over.”

He picked up the wine glass, took a gentle sip, the liquid leaving a faint sweet aroma in his mouth, his gaze crossing past the candle flame, as if penetrating the vast Northern Territory, setting on the distant Red Tide Territory.

“Steady, decisive, neat… and knowing what can and cannot be moved.” he muttered to himself, the smile on his face rich, even with a sense of having made a fortunate catch, “Once this one grows its wings, the future is unimaginable, lucky I acted first.”

And after finishing the wine, his gaze became sharp once again, as if breaking through all gentle façades, his presence suddenly heavy.

“As for Joseph…” he snapped the ledger shut with a fierce look in his eyes, “Come.”

The attendant immediately pushed open the door and entered, bowing head low, face respectful, seeming to sense the Duke’s anger.

“Head to Red Tide Territory immediately and capture Joseph Kadari, allow no accidents.” the Duke commanded coldly.

“This case is too significant for us to trial directly, send it straight to the Imperial Capital, let His Majesty make the decision.”

He paused, his tone carrying a cold sneer and deep contempt: “Let His Majesty also see whose mess this Southwest filth swept from the Northern Territory truly belongs to.”

……

A man stood at the peak of the Northern Territory mountains, gazing out at the sky.

His name was Joseph Kadari, the sixth son of the Kaladi Clan, a distinguished Imperial family.

Not a waste, nor was he ever the unnoticed fringe character.

From a young age, he displayed extraordinary intelligence and courage, at nineteen, he was assigned to assist in managing the Southern Territory’s finances and taxes, even temporarily holding the trade agency rights for the family in five provinces.

In the many tiered, strictly hierarchical system of the Kaladi Clan, he was someone truly trusted and empowered.

Yet he knew that all of this ultimately did not belong to him.

In this iron-clad family tradition, titles, noble ranks, the position of patriarch, from the moment of his birth were never his to claim.

“I am the sixth son, born only to be used, not to inherit.

All glory eventually falls to that eldest brother who sits in the high seat, empty in appearance.

And even if I conquer the entire Empire for him, I would only be a useful steward.”

So he took the Northern Territory Expansion Order, a hefty sum of support funds, and just two hundred knights, and voluntarily set out for the Northern Territory.

In the land near Qingyu Ridge, desolate, distant, and with a biting cold wind.

But a strategic location, a place where one can achieve great deeds.

He chose this place like a gambler wagering his last chip.

As long as he won, he could leap up and force the entire Kadari family to look at him squarely again.

However, the wind and snow in the Northern Territory were harsher than he imagined.

Before winter set in, the ground was frozen as hard as iron, making ox carts unable to move, the night wind outside the tents was like a knife, even breathing carried the taste of blood.

Those “skilled artisans” he brought from the South, half fell ill within three days, the rest were either running away or crying while warming by the fire.

Joseph stood in the wind and snow, cloaked in a gray cape, yet there wasn’t a trace of retreat in his eyes.

He had anticipated the difficulties long ago.

The Northern Territory isn’t a greenhouse, with its many factions, harsh conditions, and wildness, it’s not a chess game that can be easily controlled.

But he wasn’t a reckless person; he never intended to bet it all on one throw and had made multiple preparations.

A week before departure, he had a secret meeting with a representative of the Silver Plate Guild.

That was in the backyard of a family spice shop, quite concealed.

A lightly drawn map was slowly unfolded, but what was circled were the positions of the Empire’s southwestern defensive fortresses, the frequency of troop movements, and detailed routes of supply lines.

These intel naturally brought substantial rewards in return.

And he had long prepared for the worst-case scenario.

If the situation spiraled out of control, he could directly cross the border into the Federation, where someone would assist him.

Over in the Federation, he already had a new territory, a new identity, and two Jade high-ranking officials willing to shelter him.

They promised that once he successfully stirred up turmoil in the Southwest, they would recommend him to enter the Federation’s Noble Council, gaining permanent protection as a “foreign elite.”

Of course, he had no intention of succumbing to the rival country just like that.

With his intelligence and the strong support of the Silver Plate Guild, he believed he could make a name for himself in the Northern Territory of the Ironblood Empire.

Going to the Federation was his last resort, a fallback when all else was beyond redemption.

He still hoped to rely on his ability and opportunities to establish a foothold in the Northern Territory, becoming a person of power and influence, rather than willingly being a puppet of a rival country.

All of this he had planned for a long time, with such meticulous layout that it would astonish any old fox.

Of course, this isn’t betrayal; it’s foresight, he always told himself:

“If the Empire doesn’t see my value, then I’ll let others recognize it.”

He even felt… those nobles who laughed at him for being “out of favor” would one day regret it.

When he stood above the Imperial Council, overlooking them.

It was at this moment, a snow-white invitation was handed to him. The wax seal was still wet, the paper smooth and new.

His personal guard carefully held the letter and said, “Louis, the Prefect of Snow Peak County, invites you to attend a banquet in the Red Tide Territory.”

Joseph raised an eyebrow, the corners of his eyes slowly lifting.

“So it’s come, the new official must always set a few fires.”

He opened the letter, his gaze sweeping over the flowing, elegant script, yet his mouth curled into a disdainful smile.

“Does he think this banquet is a stage under his control? What a pity, I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time.”

He had already drawn in the pioneer nobles from the South’s new nobility and some Northern border nobles eager for advancement.

These people, like him, were full of contempt for the so-called “young prefect with wartime merits.”

In their eyes, Louis was merely a noble who rose to power by luck, skilled in warfare but ignorant of state affairs.

They believed Louis couldn’t possibly control people’s hearts. As long as they could quietly erode his base, hollow out his power…

Soon he could become the true master of this territory.

Of course, all this relied on the strong support of the Silver Plate Guild.

By their timeline, their resources should be arriving soon.

An eagle without claws and fangs is just a pretty bird.

Joseph fastened his cloak, his cape billowing in the wind, a cold glint flickering in his eyes.

“Louis, I will let you see with your own eyes! Even your position is nothing more than a stepping stone for me.”

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