Chapter 219: The Bretagne Offensive

Charlot was still at sea.
When James Cook escorted Aurora, Dolores, and others back to Fars, Emperor Julius Axel VI received the documentation regarding the matter. Coincidentally, the Empress casually mentioned, “This Charlot Mecklenburg is quite capable. Why not let him assist Clair Bretagne?”

Without giving it much thought, Emperor Julius VI agreed to his beloved wife’s suggestion, and thus Charlot became Clair Bretagne’s subordinate.

This development seemed entirely coincidental.
It wasn’t pushed by any influential figure.

It’s said that when Earl Bretagne learned of this, he summoned his daughter, Annie, and explained everything to her in detail. Otherwise, Annie wouldn’t have known so much.

On the sixth day after Charlot returned to Strasbourg, an expected visitor arrived at his residence on Baker Street, No. 221B in Val-de-Vas.
Strictly speaking, it was two visitors.

Charlot had arranged to meet Annie at Baker Street, but when he heard the knock at the door and opened it, he found two men and one woman. The woman was, of course, Annie, but the two men were Clair Bretagne and Ebner Soumet.

Slightly surprised, Charlot quickly invited them in and asked, “When did you gentlemen return to Strasbourg?”

Ebner Soumet smiled slightly and replied, “A few days after you. We’ve been busy coordinating logistics these past days—it’s been exhausting.”

“We were initially concerned about the subpar quality of the new knight orders, worrying they’d be ineffective in battle. But when we heard that your West Wind Knight Order would join, we felt somewhat reassured.”

Charlot asked, “How many knight orders are there in total?”

Clair Bretagne replied indifferently, “Seven. Aside from the Purple Finch Knight Order I’ve taken over and Febollet’s knights, the rest are all local forces converted into knight orders. Their quality is abysmal.”

“Even Febollet’s knights are in poor condition,” Clair added.

Charlot couldn’t help but smile. He was well aware of the state of Baron Febollet’s knights—barely adequate for a single charge by his own West Wind Knight Order. Though his knight order had humble beginnings as a ragtag group, Charlot’s rising rank had afforded him some leverage to gather intelligence. He asked, “Isn’t the Purple Finch Knight Order under Viscount Branton?”

Clair Bretagne confirmed, “Yes, it was.”

“In the Ferranden battlefield, both Fars and Byron poured in large numbers of troops. Over dozens of knight orders have been deployed on each side. So far, more than ten senior commanders and about seven or eight knight orders have been wiped out.”

Ebner Soumet added, “Viscount Branton fell in battle and left no direct heirs. His knight order was reorganized by the Empire and awarded to Clair Bretagne for his exceptional performance on the battlefield.”

Clair spread his hands and said, “That gave me command of a cavalry regiment, and I’ve been reassigned from Ferranden to serve as the interim military governor of Behemoth Principality.”

This truly surprised Charlot.

This signified that following the deaths of Grand Duke Ferdinand and Grand Duke Joseph, the Behemoth Principality had fallen out of their respective families’ control and been incorporated into the Empire’s direct governance.

The Empire categorized local powers into directly governed counties, autonomous territories, noble estates, overseas territories, and protectorates.

As military governor, Clair Bretagne was now the highest-ranking official in an autonomous territory, effectively replacing the Behemoth family as the interim ruler of the principality.

Ebner Soumet smiled and added, “Clair Bretagne is tasked with consolidating all military forces in the Behemoth Principality to launch an offensive against the South Seraph territory. This military operation is even named after him: the Bretagne Offensive.”

Charlot tilted his head slightly and thought, If anyone said this wasn’t Earl Bretagne’s doing, I’d question their intelligence.

He naturally understood why Clair Bretagne and Ebner Soumet had come to visit him. Clair needed complete control over all the principality’s forces, and Charlot, bearing the imprint of the Bretagne family, was naturally an asset. Though Annie had remained silent since entering the room, a magical portrait of her adorned Charlot’s Baker Street residence, her smile bright and enchanting.

This was no longer just a subtle hint...

Charlot rang a small bronze bell in the corner of the hall. Before long, the apartment’s housekeeper arrived and politely inquired, “What do you require, sir?”

Charlot replied, “Bring four cups of coffee and four meals.”

He handed over a single florin and said, “Keep the change as a tip.”

The housekeeper left contentedly and soon returned with coffee, meals, and some desserts. Charlot invited Clair Bretagne, Ebner Soumet, and Annie to the dining room and said, “You have my full support, Clair. There’s no need to worry about my end.”

Clair smiled faintly. He hadn’t expected Charlot to refuse. After all, their families were practically on the verge of becoming relatives. The Bretagne family currently had only one earl, but that might not always be the case.

Pleased by the smooth proceedings, Clair even shared a personal matter with Charlot: “Ebner and I have fought countless battles in Ferranden, each earning us a Proof of War.

“Now, both of us have collected eight knightly proofs and are just a step away from becoming saints.

“Let’s see who among us becomes the youngest saint in the Fars Empire first.

“Well, of the living, at least,” he added with a laugh.

Charlot chuckled, knowing who Clair referred to. The youngest saint wasn’t actually dead, but Clair didn’t need to know that.

Charlot jokingly replied, “Sadly, I’m neither a knight nor young, so I’ll have to remain a spectator in this competition.”

Clair glanced at Charlot and sighed inwardly. When they first met, it was because Annie had asked Clair to help Charlot in a duel. Circumstances forced Clair to miss the duel, and he felt so guilty that he promised perpetual friendship.

Yet Charlot had surprised Clair by killing a high-ranking officer from the Chelsea Detective Agency in that very duel. Clair, unaware of Harriet Alva’s true identity, was deeply impressed by Charlot’s prowess.

Even so, Clair admitted to underestimating his would-be brother-in-law.

Charlot’s feats—charging solo into the enemy at Silver Dove Castle to kill Jonan, slaying two Transcendents and a high-ranking officer of the South Seraph restorationists at Mostar Castle—had earned him a reputation as the “Young God of War” among the Empire’s younger generation.

And Charlot’s recent duel in Ingrima, reportedly for a Soumet family lady, had further cemented his fame. This gossip had infuriated Annie, who broke an entire set of dinnerware over it. Nonetheless, it had turned Charlot from a relative unknown into a rising star across the Old Continent.

Clair found the memory amusing, knowing how angry his cousin had been but dismissing it as insignificant. After all, Charlot wouldn’t stay in Ingrima.

Annie, meanwhile, had never mentioned Aurora to Charlot.

Ebner, privy to the details, chuckled and said, “Mecklenburg, you’ll catch up to us sooner or later.”

Charlot doubted he’d ascend to sainthood quickly—he wasn’t even confident about advancing to the high rank. Shrugging, he changed the subject. “When do you set out next?

“My West Wind Knight Order is stationed in Machubi, en route to the Behemoth Principality. I can bring them along.”

Clair replied, “That’s uncertain for now. You know the Empire’s efficiency isn’t great.”

Pushing his plate aside, Clair said, “I’m done. These days have been tough—neither Ebner nor I have had a proper meal. It’s been a pleasure, but we’ve got matters to attend to and won’t impose further on you and Annie.”

Clair’s visit was purely to secure Charlot’s allegiance. Despite their good relationship, he couldn’t take Charlot’s support for granted. Now assured of Charlot’s loyalty, Clair could focus on other preparations for his first independent campaign. He was determined to make this battle a resounding success.

Charlot didn’t insist on their staying and said, “Do let me know when you’re ready to depart.”

Ebner laughed and followed Clair out of the Baker Street residence.

Once they were gone, Annie’s mood brightened. She wandered about the room, dissatisfied despite all the furnishings she’d arranged. Taking Charlot by the hand, she insisted on buying more decorations.

Although Charlot’s home on Elysée Avenue, No. 58, was his official residence, Annie felt no sense of belonging there. Despite leaving her mark on that house, Baker Street, No. 221B was her personal choice, and her affection for it was evident. She wanted it to feel warm and sweet.

Charlot, of course, obliged her. As they left, he remembered the outstanding balance on his Elysée Avenue home’s mortgage and casually discussed with Annie whether they should settle it soon.

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