Chapter 117: Turning the tide in adversity! Earning 600 points!!! - Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

Though it was less than two weeks, in reality, it was only ten days. During this period, when the entire Augusta Manor was steeped in anxiety and busyness, time flew by swiftly. In the blink of an eye, the day of the final deadline arrived. Gazing at the desk cluttered with various documents, Greya, with dark circles under his eyes, slowly put down his pen. In these ten days, to help Her Highness the Princess accumulate the 576 points needed for the royal selection, he had exhausted himself, barely getting any sleep. Meanwhile, Greya finally personally experienced just how outrageous the things Lynn had accomplished were. Less than a month. Counting everything, perhaps only over half a month, yet he managed to secure a full three thousand points from that Saint Oak Institute! Throughout the history of the San Roland Empire, rarely has anyone accomplished what he did. In comparison to Lynn, Greya suddenly felt his own insignificance. The biggest problem at hand was that the Saint Oak Institute's scoring mechanism had never been disclosed to the public. What actions could increase their royal selection points, what might lead to deductions, and how were the weights assigned—nobody knew. Thus, each prince and princess basically had intelligence organizations at their disposal, helping them gather mechanisms for gaining points, feeling their way across the river to summarize a set of rules. However, those were all confidential matters, not to be shared with the outside world. Evester naturally did not have such an intelligence network. After all, until recently, her score was still a negative three thousand or more; if she really knew any insider information, it wouldn't be so outrageous. Currently, for Augusta Manor, the only feasible option was to try to achieve some political or engineering accomplishments in Evester's name. Though it was unknown how many points such actions might earn, doing nothing at all would mean completely exiting the royal selection. Her Highness the Princess still refused to pay attention to anyone, and hence they could only give their all to do whatever was currently within their capacity. Such as in these ten days, Greya had the family suffer a complete financial drain. Due to the previous Level 0 Sealed Artifact riot, most parts of Oran City had been reduced to ruins, with severe casualties, and it was still in the disaster recovery and rebuilding phase. However, if reconstruction was desired, funds were an unavoidable issue. The rich and the nobles naturally had no worries, protected even by the Sealed Artifacts and the Church; most remained unscathed in this disaster. But for the poor, it was undoubtedly an overwhelming catastrophe. Currently, there are about two hundred thousand homeless disaster victims, for various reasons, wandering throughout the city. Not mentioning anything else, just the issue of meals was a significant problem. Once people are truly hungry, those dark and sordid thoughts and desires will also swell. Just in these ten days, according to intelligence from the city council, the number of robberies and murders surged hundreds of times compared to before! The entire city, except for the upper-class areas where nobles and wealthy folks resided, was evolving into areas filled with chaos and lawlessness. Even the police department’s manpower was far from sufficient; they would feign ignorance when encountering cases. In such a desperate and oppressive environment, the nobles remained lofty, as if watching a monkey, enjoying the disgrace of these lowly people. Privately, they gathered all the city’s resources, continually pushing up the prices of food and other life necessities, profiting the dirtiest and most vile money. However, Augusta Manor, contrary to expectations, chose generosity and aid rather than making a fortune in this situation. They spent greatly to buy food from those merchants and nobles and then sold it back to the market at extremely low prices, even distributing relief food for free to the homeless disaster victims in the name of the third princess. This was the only approach Greya could think of. The order of the entire city had disappeared. He could only do what he was capable of. Yet no matter what, Greya was well aware. Compared to the astounding actions previously taken by Lynn, these were utterly insignificant. For the 576-point gap, they were far from adequate. Thinking of this, an unbearable anxiety rose once again. Since you left, nothing has been going smoothly. Greya covered his forehead, sighing softly. At this moment, the door was pushed open. Morris came in briskly, his face equally tired, seemingly having been busy with matters concerning Her Highness in recent days. "Have you seen the Duke recently?" Greya asked with a hint of hope upon seeing him. Clearly, right now, only Duke Tyrus was their hope for turning around this adverse situation. Morris paused, a trace of helplessness flashing in his eyes. "No." "Since leaving ten days ago, he hasn’t come back to visit Her Highness, as if he vanished into thin air." "Yet there’s occasionally some negative news from the public, saying he facilitated the implementation of the ‘New Grain Law,’ and now he’s earned a substantial profit, ready to make a getaway." "What exactly is the Duke planning?" Greya pinched his brows. "Could it be he wishes to sever ties with Her Highness?" After saying these words, the room was enveloped in silence. In truth, both of them were well aware. In the face of Her Highness the Princess’s complete loss of willpower and with his true “angel investor” Lynn Bartlaeon having died, anyone might have already chosen to slip away by now. He was, after all, a noble elector, whom they couldn’t, nor were they qualified to, demand anything of. After a lengthy silence, Morris spoke, "The Saint Oak envoy is about to arrive; we’d better head to the parlor to await them." Gazing at the Augusta Manor before him, the silver-haired young man alighted from the carriage slowly. He hadn’t expected, in just a month's time, to return here once more. The last time was for that Lynn Bartlaeon, this time, for Evester. It was a pity, though, that the interesting little fellow had perished in this disaster. Even in his dying moments, he hadn’t forgotten to pull one over on him. Regarding what happened that day, Ferit didn’t harbor much anger; more so, it was regret. He somewhat regretted not being more resolute when asking for Lynn from Evester that day, or not having offered a more compelling price. Such intriguing people, after all, were rare finds in a lifetime. As he mulled over it, Ferit, led by the anxious maid, slowly made his way into the manor. Today, he wasn’t the main character but would play a novel role. Due to Oran City’s remote location and Ferit being one of the only two royal family members residing here, the Saint Oak Institute had thus entrusted him to act as today’s notary. To notarize for the first princess eliminated from the royal selection, Evester Roland Alexini. Thus alone, the ceremony could possess a sacred and legal effect. As the door was gently pushed open, he saw the white-haired woman sitting by the bed. Just a month of absence, and this half-sister had become rather unfamiliar to him. Although her appearance hadn't changed the slightest, she now gave off a withering aura. Ferit’s expression remained unchanged as he slowly walked into the room. "My dear sister, I'm here to see you." He slowly moved to the bedside, standing next to Evester, both gazing out the window. Perhaps it was an illusion, but he felt there was some commotion and noise emanating from the distant wealthy districts. However, this didn't capture Ferit's interest. Seeing Evester stay silent, he paused for a moment before speaking, "Have you truly decided to completely withdraw from the royal selection?" The aloof white-haired woman remained silent. Seeing this, Ferit began to speak as if to himself, "Indeed, trying to gather over five hundred points in five days is quite a challenge for you." "Even for me, it would require a great deal of effort." Yet, Evester sat in her wheelchair like a piece of wood, oblivious to his presence. Seeing this, Ferit sighed. "Such impoliteness," the silver-haired youth said softly, "It's why both Silina and I, as your elder siblings, find you so distasteful." "Though you are the least beautiful member of the Alexini family, a little girl should smile more often—someone's bound to cherish you." "But you refuse to smile, preferring to hide in a corner, silently weeping and employing foolish, laughable tactics for revenge." "Such nonconformity! If we didn't bully you, who would we bully?" "By the way, that prank on your fifth birthday where your mask was knocked off publicly was executed by Albert, but I was the true mastermind." "Evester." Ferit suddenly crouched, gazing at the white-haired woman with indifference. "There's something I've never wavered from believing." "A monster like you should have been smothered at birth." "The lofty and grand ideals of the throne should never even be within the thoughts, let alone ambitions, of some nocturnal creature lurking in the shadows." "What do you think?" "Get out." Evester finally spoke. Her voice was calm, yet carried an immensely chilling tone. "Get out?" Ferit chuckled, "In your current weakened state, what gives you the right to say such things to me?" "Oh, by the way, Silina recently took in a promising subordinate named Sia—a rather intriguing young fellow. He might not take long to make an impact, even making me feel some urgency." "Too bad, from now on, such things will have no relation to you." "Come, my dear sister." "Let's go greet the Saint Oak envoy and meet your ultimate fate." "Perhaps this is our first, and will be our last, journey together." Speaking this, Ferit walked behind the wheelchair, grasping the handles to propel it gently forward. However, unseen by him, Evester's hands gripped her flesh tightly. Withdraw from the royal selection? Perhaps this was indeed her sole intention at the moment, to await the day her strength would return, to seek vengeance against this corrupt and ugly empire for her beloved little dog. Yet deep down, there was an inkling of reluctance. After all, it had been her aspiration for many years. Especially knowing that the woman she despised was now thriving. Yet what could reluctance accomplish? Life is inherently filled with pain and helplessness. As Ferit wheeled Evester into the parlor, the atmosphere in Augusta Manor became serious. They all looked towards the silver-haired youth, hearts heavy with tension and oppression. "Don't be nervous," Ferit said, handing the wheelchair over to the vigilant Afiya. "I'm merely here as a notary for routine purposes; just act as though I'm not here." He couldn't even be bothered to feign politeness with Evester's subordinates. Whenever Ferit found people or events uninteresting, he wore such an expression. He sat on the unoccupied sofa, crossing his legs with a serene expression. Judging by the time, the Saint Oak envoy should be arriving soon. As this thought formed, a knock sounded at the door. Everyone raised their eyes, seeing a brown-haired youth dressed in a garment embroidered with a golden oak pattern entering slowly. His demeanor was perfectly calm, betraying not a single flaw. After acknowledging the presence of Prince Ferit with a bow, the Saint Oak envoy repeated the gesture to Evester. "Since Your Highness is here, I'll proceed to announce the scores for this selection round." The brown-haired youth spoke slowly. Ferit nodded in acknowledgment. "I will fulfill my responsibilities as a notary, documenting all that transpires today, to be presented to Chief Justice Nidro upon returning to the capital." Once more, the brown-haired youth bowed, pulling out a familiar parchment from his pocket. "Well, let's proceed—" Before he could finish, urgent footsteps resounded from the door! Everyone glanced up instinctively, spotting Duke Tyrus briskly entering after ten days of absence. "Apologies, Your Highness, I'm late." He wiped the slight sweat from his forehead, nodding towards Evester, who sat silently in her wheelchair. In the corner, a flash of hope flickered in the eyes of Morris and Greya, only to dim quickly. Duke Tyrus's presence suggested he hadn't abandoned their alliance. However, given the irreversible situation, what could he possibly do? It was all too late. Greya sighed, his expression anxious. Meanwhile, Ferit rose, courteously bowing to Duke Tyrus. After all, he was a noble elector, wielding significant power. Leaving a good impression wouldn't hurt. Yet, whether it was an illusion, as Duke Tyrus's gaze swept over Ferit, he felt there was something peculiar about it. Once the Duke was seated, the brown-haired youth resumed his intended task for the day. As he turned his focus back to the parchment exhibiting traits of a Sealed Artifact, his eyes momentarily widened upon noticing a numerical change. His professional demeanor helped him suppress his inner turmoil. "Now, I shall announce the royal selection scores for Her Highness Evester Roland Alexini." "In the last round, Your Highness's score was -576, ranking last among the nine contenders." "Following the latest score update, your ranking position remains unchanged—" The oft-repeated phrase cast a shadow of gloom over the surrounding subordinates. "—but the score you hold has changed." The envoy's words once again cut through the room. "Your current selection score is 24 points."