Chapter 374: The Unofficial Diplomat

The afternoon Charlot Mecklenburg received the document, he delegated the governance of the eleven cities along the Red Dragon Strait to Miss Anastasia and took three Saint-rank subordinates with him as he hurried back to Strasbourg.

Along the way, Charlot employed various secret techniques to shorten the travel time as much as possible.

However, by the time he arrived in Strasbourg, it was already late at night. Originally intending to return directly to 58 Elysée Avenue using Infinite Mirror World, Charlot was unexpectedly blocked. Strasbourg, which had always been freely accessible, was now protected by a barrier that rejected his technique.

Charlot was well aware that this world harbored countless extraordinary abilities. Whether it was the power of labyrinths or the many unique talents of vampires, there were always countermeasures. Yet, such defenses were rare in his encounters. He speculated that Byron's infinite sniper war had caused enough headaches for the royal family and aristocracy of the Fars Empire that they activated a filtering barrier.

Unable to rely on secret techniques to return, Charlot had no choice but to wait until dawn and enter Strasbourg through conventional means.

Finding a secluded spot outside the city, Charlot summoned Dark Luxury, gathered his three Saint-rank subordinates, and wrapped themselves in blankets to rest.

No sooner had Charlot closed his eyes than the sound of gunfire and screams broke the night’s stillness. Two squads even discovered Dark Luxury, but with Charlot carrying official documentation and his party exuding an extraordinary aura, the soldiers of Fars didn’t dare trouble them. Especially since both Black Dragon and Silverback Gorilla Choudrou had mastered Beast God Transformation, and Herolf, the Golden Ram, appeared entirely human.

Barely having resolved one round of trouble, Charlot was disturbed again in less than half an hour. Skirmishes erupted all around as Byron’s snipers evaded capture and managed to kill over a dozen Fars soldiers.

The entire night was rife with over ten assassination attempts. The commotion made rest impossible.

Far away in the Red Dragon Strait, Charlot hadn’t anticipated how dire the situation in Strasbourg had become. The Byron snipers operating near Strasbourg were elite, each equipped with at least one or two extraordinary abilities. They eluded even Saint-rank searches, throwing the Fars capital into utter chaos.

By dawn, Charlot was certain: had he been an ordinary person, he would be sporting dark circles under his eyes. Rest had been out of the question.

Rather than disembark from his carriage, Charlot directly drove Dark Luxury into Strasbourg. He didn’t return to 58 Elysée Avenue but headed straight for the residence of Earl Bretagne.

Previously, Charlot would never have dared such a bold move. But now, his confidence had grown significantly.

This newfound confidence stemmed primarily from two sources.

Firstly, Charlot believed he had earned the recognition of both the earl and Antonio.

Secondly, having three Saint-rank powerhouses backing him didn’t hurt.

Even so, Charlot felt a mixture of anticipation and trepidation as he knocked on the door of the Bretagne estate for the first time in his life.

After a while, a haughty-looking stranger emerged, her attitude condescending as she asked, “This is the residence of Earl Bretagne. What business do you have here?”

Seeing that it wasn’t Grandma Saint Karen, Charlot had to suppress his irritation and state his identity: “I am Charlot Mecklenburg…”

The stranger’s expression shifted subtly upon hearing his name. “The earl is not here, and neither is Annie…”

Charlot hadn’t even had a chance to announce his position or diplomatic role before she interrupted him. Though slightly annoyed, he heard her continue:

“Annie has departed for the Lionheart Empire as an envoy. She left just half an hour ago. I’m certain you’d prefer to catch up with her…”

“…rather than stand here introducing yourself.”

The stranger glanced at the Dark Luxury, then called out, “Tumisan…”

“Oh, oh, the old Leopardman isn’t here!”

“Herolf, take me quickly to catch up!”

The stranger smiled faintly, maintaining a graceful demeanor as she finished her sentence: “Rather than burden us with a lengthy introduction of your credentials.”

In a flurry of motion, Charlot bowed deeply in gratitude. “Thank you, Madam. I’ll be on my way immediately!”

As Charlot climbed onto the back of the Golden Ram Herolf, the stranger remarked, “Strasbourg is under a no-fly zone. A flight-restricting barrier has recently been activated!”

Forced to dismount, Charlot cast Swiftstep Technique x10, leading his Saint-rank subordinates in a swift departure from the city.

Thanks to the stranger’s detailed directions, Charlot, sprinting at full speed, caught sight of a convoy after only ten minutes. The group bore several banners, the most prominent of which was not the Bretagne family crest but the emblem of the Golden Wattle—a symbol of the Fars royal family.

Charlot hesitated momentarily. The royal emblem complicated things. Instead of charging directly, he opted to follow quietly behind.

Naturally, he didn’t continue on foot and discreetly summoned Dark Luxury.

His actions, however, were conspicuous enough to draw the attention of a military officer. Within minutes, the officer approached, speaking curtly: “This is the Fars Empire’s envoy convoy to the Lionheart Empire. Regardless of your identity, you must leave immediately.”

Charlot quickly explained, “Miss Annie Bretagne departed hastily and lacked sufficient escort. We were dispatched by the Bretagne family as additional protection, having rushed here from another city.”

The officer sneered. “Miss Annie Bretagne truly has an extravagant entourage. Her escort already outnumbers the retinue of the Grand Princess, yet she still feels underprotected? How many more of you are coming?”

Charlot shrugged. “Only the four of us.”

The officer cast a skeptical glance, muttering, “Sending four old men… what difference will that make?”

Charlot was about to object to being labeled “old” when Golden Ram Herolf whispered, “At least I’m not mistaken for a Beastman Saint anymore.”

Charlot found himself strangely at peace with the misconception.

After reporting back, the officer returned and allowed them to join the convoy—albeit at the very rear. Clearly, Charlot’s group wasn’t regarded as significant. Charlot made no effort to correct this perception. For him, silently protecting Annie was far more practical than making a show of his presence.

Nonetheless, Charlot was certain Annie had already noticed him.

Indeed, moments later, a young maid came to invite Charlot and his companions forward.

The maid’s barely concealed grin and mischievous glint in her eyes confirmed she already knew Charlot’s identity.

Adjusting his attire, Charlot led his three Saint-rank subordinates to the center of the convoy. There, he saw an exceptionally opulent carriage. Compared to it, Dark Luxury seemed rather modest.

Seeing this, Charlot finally understood why Annie had never been impressed by Dark Luxury. The resources of the Bretagne family were far beyond his imagination.

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