60 - Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

### Chapter 60: A Pillow When You’re Drowsy! “Master Grea, something terrible has happened!!!” In the expansive manor, Grea, who was searching for Lynn, suddenly heard the urgent voice of a maid from behind. Seeing her flustered manner, Grea was puzzled. “What’s happening?” Catching her breath, the maid exclaimed, “Young Master Lynn and… the thirty or so elite guards at the training grounds, they... they got into a fight!!!” “Are the guards hurt?” Grea was stunned and instinctively asked. Considering Lynn's usual behavior, Grea knew that unless Lynn was completely confident of winning, he wouldn't instigate a conflict. Thus, his first concern was for his family's guards. The maid shook her head repeatedly. Grea’s heart sank at the sight. “Young Master Lynn... he beat the guards all... all... all…” To death? Grea’s scalp tingled with fear. What on earth did you do, Lynn?! Looking at the breathless maid, Grea instinctively prepared to rush to the scene. “He... he made them cry!” “?” ... Five minutes later. “Ow, ow! Damn, that hurts!!!” “It really hurts so bad, I can’t take it anymore!!!” “Help!!! Help!!!” At the training grounds, large muscular men rolled on the ground, crying out in pain. Grea looked on with a stiff expression. What... exactly happened here? Turning his gaze to Lynn, standing nearby, Grea saw him shrug. “Honestly, I just gave each of them one punch. You might want to consider replacing your guards.” I don't believe you! Seeing Lynn’s innocent expression left Grea with a headache. “By the way, I was looking for you.” Lynn patted Grea on the shoulder, indicating these trivial matters should be set aside. “I’m attending the banquet with Her Highness later. Tell me about Torell Tirus.” Despite his confusion, Grea put aside the current situation and rolled his eyes. “I was looking for you about the same thing.” “For reasons unknown, my father suddenly has me representing the Augusta family at the banquet, with you accompanying.” “As for Duke Tirus... he’s a veritable legend in the military — his stories could fill three full nights. So, what part do you want to know?” Grea began narrating. Lynn pondered briefly, “Do you know why he’s visiting Orin City this time?” “It’s all about money, of course.” Grea shook his head. “There’s unrest at the demon battlefield recently, and it seems like another war might break out in the south.” “And war needs supplies. Hence, Duke Tirus is here to gather a substantial sum to prepare for the possible winter offensive a few months from now.” Lynn was surprised, “How does he plan to gather it? Through this charity banquet?” Since this part wasn't in the original narrative, he remained somewhat clueless. Although the banquet attracted many nobles and celebrities from Orin City and nearby towns, and even some who traveled from the imperial city just to see Duke Tirus, any funds raised would merely be a drop in the bucket. Grea unhesitatingly responded, “Of course not.” “The banquet is just a way to test the waters, to gauge the attitudes of the nobility and the church towards his future actions.” “What actions?” “Tax collection.” Grea hit the point directly, “Due to the great distance from the imperial city and constant wars, the empire’s influence here is minimal.” “One can see the clue from tax collection alone.” “From what I know, the empire hasn’t received full taxes from these regions for several years. Most have been embezzled by local churches and officials, passing off all sorts of excuses.” “For instance, tax exemptions for certain large churches, who've squeezed the populace dry yet contributed nothing.” “These entities wield deep connections with the imperial city, making it difficult to take drastic actions against them.” Listening to this, Lynn mused, “So, that’s why Duke Tirus is troubled and had to visit personally?” “Exactly.” Grea nodded. As they walked, a brief silence ensued. After a moment, Lynn curiously asked, “In your view, which local church is the greediest?” “Definitely the Church of the Heavenly Principles,” Grea answered without hesitation. “Frankly, these people preach day and night but do nothing charitable, and they devour about sixty to seventy percent of the populace's money.” The Church of the Heavenly Principles? Isn't that convenient! Hearing the response, Lynn’s eyes glimmered with realization. Concerning the trial of the End Witch, he'd been struggling for a breakthrough, and suddenly it appeared. Truly, a pillow delivered when you’re about to doze off! Grea, noticing a familiar gleam in Lynn's eyes, couldn’t help but feel a shiver of unease. Though not knowing each other for long, he understood that Lynn was likely scheming something malicious. “Suppose... I'm just saying if,” Lynn suddenly proposed, “Suppose a remarkably handsome man could help Duke Tirus secure that enormous sum and crush the Church of the Heavenly Principles’ arrogance, what would he gain?” Grea glanced at him, “The friendship of the Tirus family, and the favor of Her Highness.” “After all, Her Highness has long been seeking support from one of the electors.” ... In the northern district of Orin City, outside the Batlayon estate. A luxurious black carriage was parked on the broad road at the estate gate. A richly dressed middle-aged man stood before the carriage, gazing at the lineup of neatly standing servants. “Still no news of that kid?” “No, Steward Sherlock.” The leading male servant replied cautiously, “Young Master Lynn... that kid hasn’t returned since he left the manor last time, and there's been no trace of him in all of Orin City.” “Keep searching. The orders were clear — find him, dead or alive.” The man addressed as Sherlock snorted, “And did I not tell you already?” “Do not call me steward, in this city, I am the spokesperson for the Batlayon estate. Address me as Master!” “Y-yes! Master Sherlock!” “Enough, just don’t let it happen again.” Sherlock waved dismissively, “How goes the other matter?” “Most of the Batlayon family’s assets in Orin City, real estate included, have been essentially accounted for. Over the years, through various means, they’ve been steadily converted to your private assets.” Sherlock frowned, “Not to my private assets, but to the Mosgra family’s assets... remember, after tonight, this estate will welcome its new owner.” “Understood!” The servant wiped the sweat from his brow. Checking the time, Sherlock nodded and instructed, “Duke Tirus has also extended an invitation to the Batlayon family. I’ll attend, and meanwhile, welcome the notable from the Mosgra family. You all guard the house well.” “Yes, Master... what if that kid returns?” Sherlock responded nonchalantly, “Beat him thoroughly, then lock him up.” The servant hesitated, “But he’s still of the Batlayon family...” “Batlayon family? What Batlayon family remains?” Sherlock sneered, “A decrepit old fool in a coma, a disgraced exile from the imperial city... oh, and an underage young lady lost within the imperial city, her fate unknown.” “You believe they can stir any trouble?” Recalling that defeated, soulless young man he encountered, Sherlock shook his head. The glory of the Batlayon family was gone, with no hope of revival. If that kid were sensible, he’d find a quiet place to die. It was foresight on his part, swearing allegiance early. Otherwise, he’d also face retribution.