Chapter 337

Chapter 337. Dorg: Refusing to Work Overtime

Old ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍August glared. “I was the one who paid the tuition!”

“I ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍was the one who found the connection! Back when Phoenix went to the academy, the recommendation letter was stamped with my private seal!”

“I ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍was the one who—”

The ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍two old men argued until their faces turned red.

The ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍two old foxes, whose combined ages were nearly a hundred, began tearing into each other through the light screen.

Phoenix ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍rolled his eyes.

“Enough, enough.” He interrupted the two old men.

“I will be entering the palace soon to express my gratitude, and I will take over the treasury while I am at it. I suspect the accounts over there will not look good. There are probably quite a few private ledgers hidden away too.”

“First, transfer a batch of the Eastern Territory’s top actuaries and auditors over here.”

“No problem. The manpower will arrive tomorrow!” Duke August agreed at once.

The family elders all applauded.

This was a historic moment. The Golden Griffon Merchant Guild was about to welcome its greatest expansion.

The communication channel switched.

Celestia’s image appeared. She wore a pink nightgown and rubbed her eyes.

“Big Brother Phoenix! Why are you looking for me so late? Did something happen?”

“Cele, I became the Minister of Finance.” Phoenix’s tone carried a hint of showing off.

“Minister of Finance? Does that mean you can manage lots and lots of Golden Lion Coins?”

Phoenix cleared his throat.

“It is not merely managing Golden Lion Coins. I have to coordinate the entire nation’s macroeconomy, adjust tariff barriers, crack down on smuggling, establish a new magitech industrial credit system, and use the royal family’s credit endorsement to issue government bonds. We are going to replicate an entirely new economic model across the whole nation and completely crush the remnants of the old nobles’ natural economy. Do you understand?”

Celestia listened until her eyes went blank. Clearly, those complicated terms were far too distant for her.

She did not understand those grand blueprints at all.

But she still clapped hard, smiling until her eyes curved, her gaze full of worship. “So you manage money, right?”

Phoenix felt somewhat helpless, yet he also found it immensely satisfying.

“...You could put it that way.” He laughed softly. “Once the situation in the Royal Capital stabilizes, I will bring you over.”

“All right! I want to see you wearing a minister’s formal attire!”

...

Somewhere in the Royal Capital.

A top-secret laboratory.

This had originally been the territory of the royal alchemists, but it had now been fully taken over by Logaris.

All kinds of precise magitech instruments were operating, emitting low humming sounds. The air was filled with the smell of disinfectant and ozone.

Logaris stood before the operating table.

Inside the isolation chamber, Dorg’s blood sample was undergoing a violent reaction under the strong light.

“The aether concentration exceeds the standard. The binding rate between some unknown Mana and hemoglobin has reached ninety percent.” Logaris looked at the readings on the instrument and frowned slightly.

He picked up a bottle of green reagent and dripped it into the isolation chamber.

Green smoke instantly rose from the surface of the blood.

Logaris swiftly recorded the composition of the smoke.

Dorg, Sylvia, Esmeralda, and Nevira stood outside the safety line.

Esmeralda pressed her hand against the short blade at her waist, her gaze vigilantly fixed on that mass of black blood.

She could feel the evil power contained within it.

Logaris turned around, took off his glasses, and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“The situation is not optimistic.”

Logaris drew a light screen in midair with projection magic, displaying the microscopic structure of the blood.

“Look. These black threads are the curse’s true body. They have already fused completely with Dorg’s heart and blood vessels.”

“Eight years is too long. Although the resistance of the royal bloodline allowed Dorg to survive until now, it also forced the curse to mutate. It has now become part of Dorg’s body. If it is forcibly stripped away, Dorg will die instantly.”

Dorg’s expression was calm.

“Just give me the conclusion, Logaris. I can handle it.”

“It cannot be cured.” Logaris was blunt.

Nevira seemed to have expected this already. She let out a long sigh, her eyes reddening.

Sylvia’s brows furrowed tightly.

“Even you have no solution?”

“I tried thirteen kinds of high-tier purification spellworks. I also used the secret medicine left behind by old man Barnabas. None of it worked.” Logaris turned off the light screen.

“Unless I can turn Dorg’s time back to eight years ago, but that is beyond the scope of my current abilities.”

The laboratory was very quiet. Only the humming of the instruments remained.

“However, I can formulate a suppressive potion.”

Logaris took a small glass vial from his pocket. It contained a pale-blue liquid that glimmered faintly under the light.

“One vial a day. It can neutralize the curse’s corrosion, allowing you to stop suffering that heart-piercing pain and live like a normal person.”

Dorg took the vial, his fingertips touching the cold glass.

“What is the cost?” Dorg asked.

“There is no cost.” Logaris shook his head, and his tone carried a rare trace of gentleness. “With the potion I formulated, by a conservative estimate, you can still live at least another ten years.”

Ten years.

Dorg tightened his grip on the glass vial and was slightly stunned.

Looking at everyone’s complicated expressions, Logaris slowed his tone and continued.

“All right, do not put on those expressions as if this were a final farewell. Ten years is only a conservative estimate. Alchemy has no end. As my research continues, there may not be no possibility of completely removing the curse in the future.”

Although everyone knew that this was most likely a word of comfort, the heavy atmosphere in the laboratory did loosen slightly because of it.

Dorg turned his head and looked at Nevira beside him.

Nevira could finally no longer hold back her tears. They were tears of joy after surviving a disaster. Dorg reached out and tightly held Nevira’s hand.

“Ten years.” Dorg smiled, and his smile was very relaxed. “That is enough. To me, this is already time I earned. I originally thought I would die at Redleaf Manor that night.”

Sylvia looked at Dorg, and her tightly furrowed brows finally relaxed.

“The situation in the Royal Capital has just stabilized, and the Cabinet is empty. I gave the position of Minister of Finance to Phoenix, handed the judiciary to Cicero, and military affairs are still with Conrad. The administrative system needs someone who understands how it works to sort it out.”

Sylvia stepped forward, her gaze blazing as she stared straight into Dorg’s eyes.

“I have always kept the position of Prime Minister for you.”

The smile on Dorg’s face faded. He released Nevira’s hand, walked to a chair nearby, and sat down, remaining silent for a long time.

“You want me to sit in Moran’s position?” Dorg asked.

“You are the most suitable candidate,” Sylvia said firmly.

“You have stayed in the Royal Capital the longest. In terms of understanding the Royal Capital, you know it better than I do. Astrelia needs your political skill. The implementation of the new policies requires someone who can hold the court steady.”

Dorg looked at the ceiling, where the stars of the Golden Rose Palace dome were reflected.

“But Sylvia, I am tired.”

He sighed.

“For these eight years, I calculated every single day. I calculated how to survive and thought about what tomorrow would be like. I acted every day. Even in my dreams, I was guarding against assassinations.”

Dorg stood. He walked to Nevira’s side and held her hand once more.

“Now, Moran has fled. The old nobles are all dead. You have also obtained control of the Astral Maze Lock. The power of all Astrelia has already gathered in your hands.”

Dorg looked at Sylvia.

“My mission is complete. As a remnant of the old era, there is no seat for me on the magitech train of the new era.”

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