Malin’s first stop was to find Todd. The wizard was easy to locate thanks to the Wizard Council—Madam Dorothy rely needed to shake a scrying glass, and she would know where Todd was. And once Todd was found, how hard could it be to find soone else?
Malin showed him the badge, and the wizard imdiately spotted the flaw—the badge was pristine, yet there were no burrs on the hamr. This was because, during the production of the first batch of badges, substandard tal was used. Even later, when Northernism had sufficient funds, they refused to rectify this detail. The burrs symbolized the hardships of the old era. Every Northernist, upon receiving their badge, would personally use sandpaper to grind off those burrs, signifying their act of erasing past suffering with their own hands.
"Moreover, this badge has no mber initials on it," Todd said as he picked up a magnifying glass and pointed to the engravings on the hamr. "If it were genuine, it would bear the initials of the mber’s first and last nas, as well as their surna initials. If by chance, all four initials matched, the initials of their birthplace would be added as well."
"What if those matched too?" Malin asked out of curiosity.
Todd tossed the badge back to Malin. "mbers who joined later would have an identifier number. These letters and numbers would form a pattern that requires a magnifying glass to discern. Your badge, however, bears re decorative engravings. So I’m relieved—our Majesty and old Hagelberry haven’t succumbed to fear of assassins and begun reckless doubt."
After hearing Malin recount King Manheim and old Hagelberry’s reactions, Todd seed much more at ease. However, Ragelov, who had just arrived, poured cold water on his optimism: "This should only be the most basic judgnt, Todd. You should be thankful that Lord Malin played a significant role there. Otherwise, if the royals and nobles truly wanted to target us, this would’ve been their best pretext."
"Indeed. You must remain vigilant. Although ndel was killed and the attempt on Hagelberry failed, these assassins typically lie low for a while. But don’t underestimate them—they might take the opposite approach. You must strengthen the security asures for Lord Antoine and Lord Eric. My operations team has just begun, and they’ll need so ti to establish an intelligence network," Malin warned Todd and Ragelov.
After receiving their assurances, Malin departed from the rendezvous point first. He returned to the Royal Palace to report the situation to King Manheim. Of course, he only ntioned that the Northernist mbers had passed Malin’s truth-detecting inquiries and that they had not lied about the badge—it was indeed a malicious slander orchestrated by their enemies.
King Manheim seed noticeably relieved. With nothing further to discuss, Malin prepared to leave. However, just as he was about to go, the king called out to him again.
"Malin, thank you for everything you’ve done for this kingdom." In this mont, the king appeared as a helpless elder. The Queen, standing beside him, smiled wryly at Malin. "Thank you, Malin. My husband is so very tired—you must know how it has been recently."
"It’s all right, Your Majesty, and Your Highness as well. I’m not doing this just for the kingdom. I’m doing it for all the innocents in this world. I wish to forge a future without suffering—this is neither so predestined mission of my birth nor a divine command to pursue righteousness. I’m simply doing what I believe is right. Long ago, an elderly lady once taught sothing. She said that in life, the most important thing isn’t becoming soone or sothing, but finding your own path—and becoming soone who illuminates the road for yourself and others."
Malin smiled, lowering his head to show respect to the aging royal couple.
"Including not stepping on others’ heads to climb upward?" King Manheim stared intently at Malin.
"Yes, but also no." Malin shook his head, then nodded, leaving the king pondering the ambiguity.
"What do you an by that?" This ti, it was the Queen who spoke, standing by her husband’s side. She gently massaged his shoulders, her expression curious.
"In my life, I don’t step on the heads of the innocent, for all innocents are equal. Yet to climb higher, one must use sothing as footing. Thus, the heads of the guilty make the best stepping stones. Madam, did you know? My journey has been built on a diet of inhuman evils."
With that, Malin took two steps back, completed the noble’s bow, and withdrew from the king and queen’s garden with a smile.
......
"Did you see that, my dear? That’s Malin. A man who can compromise on anything, yet refuses to compromise on anything. A sentintal mortal and a rciless machine." Speaking to himself, Manheim patted the hand on his shoulder, feeling its growing frailty and brittleness.
Ever since giving birth to Soren, the Queen had beco stagnant, her body withering with age. She resembled her husband, whose heart had been weighed down by the kingdom’s burdens. The loss of several children had dealt her devastating blows. As for Manheim, he had already erged from the anguish of their premature deaths, believing his wife would recover even sooner than he did.
But her withering form told him otherwise.
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