Trafford's Trading Club

Chapter 1305: Chapter 32: The Gong of Destinies Rings in the Sacred Temple (3)

The-Fianna Headquarters.

The aircraft used for the expedition has crashed, and only a limited number of survivors remain—a small group who managed to complete the final mission and bring back the battle data of the Twelve Knights of the Round Table against Oberon.

After removing their Dragon Cavalry armor, the survivors still showed signs of fear on their faces… Exhausted, they let the staff begin their post-battle recovery outside the adjustment chambers.

In fact, although they returned this time, their various metrics have reached dangerous levels… If not adjusted in time, they might not fare much better than those who have already perished.

The survivors slowly closed their eyes, not caring about what the future would hold.

“They just lack combat experience.”

In the control room, the Prime Minister remarked while watching the survivors entering the adjustment chambers.

He had even recovered from the blow of this mission failure, inspiring those present, “Though our action this time failed, the data acquired is extremely valuable. It made us aware of the deficiencies of the Dragon Cavalry and the flaws in their pilots… In the future, this will be the direction we tackle! We have already reached realms beyond human power, lacking only other components! Technology! More data! And fighting spirit!”

Such words are better than none… People habitually need to find a reason to make failure less sorrowful.

The Prime Minister did not stay long in the control room, and after saying a few words, he left with the escort of officers.

There were just too many issues ahead to concern him—like dealing with those Cabinet ministers, deploying military actions, negotiating with the Knight Agency, and finally handling the consequences of the Fog Capital riots… and reconstruction.

The Prime Minister even felt that he might not have a single day off in the next six months.

“Prepare a helicopter for me.”

At this moment, the Prime Minister instructed the accompanying officer, “After getting on the machine, open a temporary video conference so I can placate those old folks in the Cabinet… Also, connect me with the Department of Defense; I need to know the progress of the crowd evacuation…”

The Prime Minister paused, seemingly preparing further orders. He was organizing his thoughts, musing—but the officer beside him did not take any action.

He furrowed his brows, “Didn’t you hear what I said? I asked you to connect me with the Department of Defense immediately! Are you so scared by the outside riots that you can’t think straight?”

“I’m sorry, Prime Minister, but you no longer have the authority to order me.” The officer said calmly.

“What nonsense are you talking?”

The officer smiled slightly, “Because your prime ministerial powers have been temporarily suspended… Sorry, Prime Minister, you’re now suspected of misappropriating government funds, colluding with Non-Humans abroad, and even plotting the Queen’s kidnapping… So, I need to arrest you now.”

“What did you say?!” The Prime Minister looked incredulously at his close subordinate, “You’re arresting me! Who gave you the authority!!”

“This question will be answered once you meet Sir Pukins, I believe he’ll be willing to explain it to you.”

“Pukin…”

The officer said no more, and in an instant when the Prime Minister was unable to react, he surged forward, knocking him out.

This sudden change shocked the two guards beside the Prime Minister, but before they could draw their handguns, the officer swiftly floored them.

As for the personnel originally escorting out from the base, they were simply stunned on the spot.

“Operations remain normal here… I’ll be back.” The officer instructed the staff before him calmly.

…

…

On the long street, there were at least over five frenzied Beastmen—two among them even held barely breathing residents in their hands.

Mr. Gareth needed to be quite cautious, fearing the aftershocks from the battle might inadvertently send these endangered hostages to the brink of death… Naturally, if facing these Beastmen alone, he wouldn’t have so many scruples.

After besieging the leader of the Doomsday Myth Oberon, besides Geraint whose consumption was huge and could only rest now, the other four remained at considerable combat strength. Therefore, after leaving the monastery, they were immediately dispatched to various districts in the Fog Capital to suppress the Beastmen’s riots.

At this moment, several flashes of cold light flickered across the sky, and subsequently, Mr. Clown was rapidly darting through the buildings—Mr. Gareth was startled, afraid this guy might be reckless and harm the two barely living residents.

“Dagonet!! Don’t get reckless!”

But merely flying knives, at this moment, lightly pierced into the shoulder joints of these Beastmen… The hostages immediately broke free.

Several Elite Knights, on constant standby, burst out in an instant and swiftly rescued the hostages—then, Mr. Clown directly swept the Beastmen to the ground with whirlwind speed.

With the rioting Beastmen beneath him, the flying knives returned to his fingers.

Only to hear Mr. Clown with a face of mock cry, “I say Gareth, have some confidence in me, won’t you? I swore as a knight before King Arthur’s statue.”

Mr. Gareth couldn’t help but roll his eyes… Having no time to deal with this guy, he immediately instructed the Elite Knights to bring back the felled Beastmen.

The frenzied state of the Beastmen was not lifted, but they were completely incapacitated by specially made restraint tools by the Elite Knights, only able to make meaningless chaotic cries.

“They all had legal residency status, merely bewitched.”

Mr. Gareth instructed the Elite Knights to load these fallen Beastmen onto a transport vehicle, “After bringing them back, ensure they are well-guarded. We need to find a way to lift their frenzy, if they really can’t calm down, I suggest you use sedatives.”

“Yes!”

The knights began to busy themselves—the transport vehicle naturally did not just hold the few Beastmen just knocked out by Mr. Clown.

On the vehicle, originally, there were already over twenty Beastmen lying.

“Gareth, I’m going ahead to clear the area, I’ll leave these troublesome matters to you.” Mr. Clown greeted before sprinting away along the long street.

Gareth felt somewhat helpless… But to be fair, perhaps he truly was born more suited to handle these tedious matters.

The loading didn’t actually take too much time, the key was the truck was already full, requiring transport of this batch of Beastmen back—Gareth wasn’t assured by merely having the knights responsible for transportation, because within the Fog Capital, who knows where the Doomsday Myth’s rioters were hiding.

“Mr. Gareth, perhaps I can assist you.”

In the dim alleyway, a man appeared dragging a severely injured Beastman.

Gareth glanced, slightly surprised, then nodded, “It’s you, Mr. Simpton.”

Grand Knight Simpton threw the severely injured Beastman to the ground, after which someone immediately restrained and added this Beastman onto the transport vehicle.

Simpton sternly said, “Leave the transportation to me, suppressing Beastmen, you are more efficient… We need to quickly quell the riots in the Fog Capital.”

Gareth couldn’t deny the validity of the statement, hesitated slightly before nodding, “Alright then, the transportation is up to you, Simpson Knight.”

“At your command, great Knight Gareth.” Simpton performed the ritual of a lower knight meeting a higher knight.

“Oh… You’re obviously too formal! Mr. Simpton, relax!” Gareth patted his shoulder, “We are comrades, not superior and subordinate.”

“Well then, I’ll go ahead.” Grand Knight Simpton nodded, “I’ll return immediately after completing the transport, waiting for your good news.”

Saying this, he directly boarded the transport vehicle—Gareth watched as the vehicle drove off, then resumed his own vigor.

Although he still retained a lot of physical strength, from the breakout of Farael last night to the riots in the Fog Capital tonight, too many things have happened… His mind is already showing signs of fatigue.

Suddenly, he felt a slight wetness at his fingertips. When he looked down, he found that at some point, a thread of blood had stained his finger.

Still fresh… He rubbed the blood with his fingers, thoughtfully watching the distant transport trucks.

Maybe it’s just overthinking.

Kai shook his head, but eventually moved and walked towards the alley where Simpton appeared—he could smell a strong scent of blood.

Kai furrowed his brow, raising his palm, in which a light orb accompanied by ancient incantations: the script of the spirits that only the Twelve Knights could use.

The light source illuminated the dark alley instantly.

He saw a long trail of blood on the ground… It was the injured body, forcibly dragged on the ground by what seemed to be the severely wounded Beastman that Simpton brought out.

He walked slowly along the trail of blood, always feeling that there was something ahead—finally, his steps stopped in front of a door.

It seemed to be the back door of a restaurant… The door was ajar, and the trail started from here.

Mr. Kai gently pushed the door open and went inside.

A few seconds later, he abruptly narrowed his eyes—in front of him, inside the small restaurant, he saw numerous Beastmen kneeling on the ground, their bodies covered with injuries from extreme punishment…

They had already turned into cold corpses.

The bodies were kneeling in a penitent posture… On the floor, there was thick and crimson blood, like a slaughterhouse.

“This…” Mr. Kai’s expression immediately changed slightly.

…

…

Sir Pukins’ Manor.

Inside the private office of the Sir… Mr. Pukins was sitting quietly, waiting for something—across the desk, a balding middle-aged man was half-crookedly seated.

His head hung low.

Perhaps it had been this way for some time now… The man suddenly came back to his senses and frantically raised his head.

“You actually betrayed… it’s you! Pukins?!”

Coming back to his senses, the startled man was the Prime Minister of the British Government—after abruptly seeing his adversary, the Prime Minister immediately and frantically looked around.

A place completely unfamiliar to him—yet he knew what place this was from intelligence reports.

“Prime Minister, you should be very familiar with this environment.” Sir Pukins smiled and said, “Because I’m sure that on your desk, there is very detailed intelligence about this place, right.”

“Pukins!!” The Prime Minister abruptly stood up, pressing his hands on the table, glaring at the other, “Dare you use private punishments on me? Do you know what you’re doing!”

The Sir casually waved his hand, “I am very aware of what I’m doing, Prime Minister… Why don’t you listen to what I know about what you want to do?”

The Prime Minister instantly calmed down, quickly organizing his existing intelligence… He silently sat back down.

The Sir then slowly said, “You want to deal with the Knight Agency, right.”

The Prime Minister sneered without speaking.

The Sir continued, “Every year, a huge amount of funds flow into your secret base. Over the years, you have created a total of twenty-three ‘Dragon Cavalry’ warriors, named The Fianna… a Finnian Warrior Group from Celtic Mythology. You thought this Warrior Group could rival our Round Table Knights… In fact, I truly feel admiration for your efforts, after all, you have proven that ordinary people can also step into the realms of non-humans with your own efforts.”

The Prime Minister sneered, “I would not be surprised if you took out all the research results at this time… I never expected that someone I valued would actually betray.”

The Sir shook his head, “He is called Ofen, actually, he is my adopted son, and also a Knight of our Knight Agency… Never was he your subordinate, my Prime Minister.”

“Well, very well!” The Prime Minister gritted his teeth, finally too angry to speak any further.

“Shall we continue?” The Sir leaned back, “You quickly came up with a plan—you sponsored a mob organization. This organization is called ‘Doomsday Myth’, right? Over the years, you have provided this organization with considerable funding, haven’t you? Additionally, you secretly purchased some equipment from the Magician’s Association and then gifted it to them. Of course, this organization didn’t waste your resources—your The Fianna seems to have several technologies stolen from somewhere else through this organization. Let me think, last year some aerospace materials from Americana were stolen—it seems to be your… handiwork, doesn’t it?”

“Absurd! Mere words!” The Prime Minister snorted coldly.

“Later, you felt the time was ripe.” The Sir calmly remarked, “You thought you shouldn’t have any further association with this organization because it would impact your future career… Just as our Crown Prince seemed to have genuinely lost his patience… He didn’t want to wait anymore, after all, he is almost seventy-years-old. A seventy-year-old Crown Prince indeed waited too long.”

The Prime Minister finally had a slight change in expression.

The Sir nonchalantly said, “You let the Doomsday Myth folks kidnap the Queen and declare war on the British Government… You gained a good reason to use The Fianna. You could utilize The Fianna not only to eradicate the organization you sponsored as part of this incident, but perhaps our Queen might also sadly meet her end during this kidnapping. Hmm… Let me think, once everything is over, it should be time for the Crown Prince to ascend, right? Then, for the Knight Agency’s inaction on the Queen being kidnapped by non-humans, it will become a target for impeachment by the Cabinet… Perhaps The Fianna even has the potential to replace the Knight Agency.”

“Oh, there’s one more thing you probably didn’t anticipate; the Doomsday Myth folks actually put forth a demand for the complete independence of the Northern Ireland region from the British Government; this somewhat exceeded your control…” Seeing the Prime Minister’s sour face, Sir Pukins chuckled, “That’s essentially it, do you need to add anything.”

“Yes.” The Prime Minister coldly snorted at this moment, “That’s that you folks seem to have forgotten to search me… Pukins, you shouldn’t have met me alone!”

In an instant, the Prime Minister revealed his clothing, pulling out an antique copper-colored pistol, pointing it at the other with a sinister smile, “Just a simple squeeze, and the result won’t change much. Goodbye, my good friend.”

Bang—!!

Not leaving the Sir any time to react, the Prime Minister pulled the trigger on the special firearm.

The whistling bullet, however, froze in front of the Sir at that moment—as if something stopped it, confining it.

The Prime Minister shot in terror continuously—but each bullet was frozen in front of Sir Pukins… until all bullets were exhausted.

“You…”

“Hmm, nice power, a new toy crafted by the Magician’s Association this year.”

The Prime Minister recoiled in horror… Suddenly, he turned around, rushing out for the door!

The Sir had no intention to stop, just observing him hurriedly open the office door and dash out… then slowly retreating step by step back inside.

At this moment, the Prime Minister’s expression looked so panicked.

His retreat eventually made him understand one thing.

With a voice like being squeezed out, he arduously said, “Oberon, it’s you… How could…”

At the door, Caesar.

With no expression on his face, taking steps inward.

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PS: Next chapter will be later…