18: Chapter 18, "The Princess's Warning Letter," reads more like a competitive analysis report.

The "tap, tap" of fingertips hitting the tabletop echoed in the silent dungeon, like some cold metronome beating against the hearts of everyone present.

The sound wasn't loud, yet it carried a pressure that made it hard to breathe.

Evelyn stood behind him, holding her breath. She could feel that beneath her Lord's calm exterior, his brain—running at high speeds comparable to the world's most precise alchemical machinery—was processing the massive influx of information.

The Princess, the Inquisition, the ruins, the key... these seemingly unrelated fragments were being forcibly pieced together by him, attempting to outline a complete blueprint full of risks and opportunities.

After a long while, Levi's tapping stopped.

He withdrew his gaze. There was no longer a trace of confusion in his pitch-black eyes; only that unique, cold focus of a project manager who had just determined the project's direction remained.

"Evelyn." He pushed the letter toward the succubus, his tone flat. "Combining the 'customer requirements' we just got from Mr. Colin, perform a preliminary competitive analysis report on this 'risk notification letter' from our 'potential partner.' I need to know their core demands, their operational logic, and potential points of conflict."

A competitive analysis report? A risk notification letter? Once again, these strange but oddly fitting terms.

Evelyn had long since grown accustomed to her master's unique vocabulary.

She respectfully took the parchment, her slender fingers brushing over the high-quality paper as her purple eyes quickly scanned every word on the letter.

She read very quickly; as Levi's Chief Secretary, information processing was one of her core KPIs.

In less than a minute, she looked up, her eyes flashing with the light of insight.

"My Lord, this report... or rather, this letter, is very interesting." Evelyn's voice carried a hint of seductive raspiness. "Judging by the phrasing, Princess Ella Radiant is using the most official, standard aristocratic warning. Words like 'suggest,' 'lest,' and 'misunderstanding' are full of distance and the intent to clear herself of involvement. This is more like a formatted political notice sent to all border lords to prove she has fulfilled her duty to 'remind' them."

"However," her tone shifted as she looked at the knight in the corner whose spirit had already broken, "Mr. Colin and his Inquisition squad's actions were a secret, rapid, and lethal surprise attack. If we hadn't arranged the 'asset inventory' contingency plan in advance, Blackstone Territory would likely have been turned upside down by now, or perhaps even reduced to scorched earth."

"A public, cold political warning versus a secret, aggressive military operation. My Lord, these two are completely contradictory at the execution level," Evelyn concluded. "This indicates that while the Princess and the Inquisition may have the same goal for the 'Heretic Elf Disposal' project, their execution paths and willingness to assume risk are entirely different. The Princess's letter is more like a disclaimer to wash her hands of the matter should the Inquisition's operation fail. She doesn't want House Byron involved, but she won't provide us with any substantive protection either. We are 'uncontrollable variables' outside of the plan."

An excellent analysis.

Levi nodded approvingly.

This was exactly what he wanted: to dismantle a seemingly emotional political gamble into cold, logical relationships.

A qualified manager must never be deceived by surface-level rhetoric; they must pierce through the phenomena to strike at the core of each party's interests.

Since the Princess was merely going through the motions and the Inquisition was the true executor, the most critical information was still locked within the captive who had already lost his utility.

No, any asset could not be called "useless" as long as it hadn't been completely squeezed dry.

"Mr. Colin," Levi stood up and walked slowly to the knight, looking down at him. "You have one last bit of utility left."

He took the letter from Evelyn, had someone prepare paper and pen, and then gently placed a copy of the letter on the muddy ground mixed with blood in front of Colin.

Colin raised his clouded eyes, struggling to identify the handwriting and the crest on it.

When he clearly saw the Thorny Rose emblem representing the Imperial Royal Family, his already dilated pupils suddenly constricted. The last shred of his pride and faith as a knight completely collapsed.

"Do you see?" Levi's voice was as soft as a devil's whisper. "Your Empire, the Royal Family you swore fealty to, has already announced their abandonment of you in the most dignified way possible. Once your operation fails, it will be defined as an 'unauthorized action by certain personnel,' unrelated to the official will of the Inquisition, and certainly unrelated to the Empire. You, and your companions buried underground, were abandoned pawns from the moment you stepped into Blackstone Territory."

"No... impossible..." Colin muttered to himself, his body shaking like a leaf.

"Nothing is impossible," Levi said, his tone without a ripple of emotion. "Now, I'm giving you a choice, a deal. Draw everything you know about the Silvermoon Ruins on this map—including the detailed route there, all the intelligence the Inquisition has gathered, and any potential outposts or supply points along the way. In exchange, you will receive a dignified, painless end befitting a knight."

Complete psychological destruction was far more effective than physical torture.

Colin looked at the letter, then at Levi's eyes, which betrayed no emotion. Death was perhaps his only release now.

"...Fine," he rasped out a single word.

With the "help" of the guards, Colin used his one remaining mobile, trembling hand to laboriously draw on the parchment.

He drew slowly but in great detail; every mountain path and every marker was poured from his last remaining memories.

Half an hour later, a map detailed to an appalling degree appeared before Levi.

"I... have finished." Colin dropped the pen, his entire body going limp against the chains as if his bones had been removed. "Keep your promise."

"Of course, I always keep my promises." Levi took the map, carefully confirmed its accuracy, and then nodded to the guards behind him.

A guard brought over a silver goblet filled halfway with deep red wine that looked rich and sweet.

He held the goblet to Colin's lips.

Colin gave a tragic smile and, without hesitation, tilted his head back and drained the cup.

As the liquid entered his throat, it wasn't as sharp or bitter as he imagined; instead, it carried a hint of fruity fragrance.

He closed his eyes, quietly waiting for death to arrive.

Soon, a sharp, stabbing pain came from his abdomen, his vision went black, and he completely lost consciousness.

"Take him down," Levi ordered coldly, looking at the fallen Colin.

The guards unfastened the chains and laid Colin flat on the ground.

Just then, a physician who had been waiting outside hurried in, skillfully pried open Colin's mouth, poured down an emetic, and began a series of emergency first-aid measures.

"My Lord, this..." The guards nearby watched in stunned silence.

Levi rolled up the heavy map and explained flatly, "I promised him a 'death.' Now, the Inquisition Knight Colin is dead. His death has been recorded; it was dignified and painless. As for this unnamed person who has been revived, he will spend the rest of his life in the mines for labor reform, contributing to the construction of Blackstone Territory. Remember, we must fully exploit the residual value of every asset. That is the core corporate culture of our Blackstone Territory."

Upon hearing this, everyone felt a chill rush from the soles of their feet to the crowns of their heads.

Carrying the hot-off-the-press map, Levi did not linger for a moment and headed straight for the Dwarven Workshop.

The workshop was as bustling as ever. Hill was holding a sample of freshly refined ore, arguing heatedly with Blackfinger, spit flying everywhere.

Seeing Levi walk in, the elf and the dwarf stopped their arguing simultaneously.

Levi ignored the subject of their argument and turned his gaze toward Hill, throwing out a classic management case study hypothesis: "Excellency Chief Technical Consultant, let me ask you a question. If a company has a core technical asset that is inherently unstable, like a time bomb that could go off at any moment, and our primary competitor is trying to seize this bomb at all costs without knowing anything about its danger... as the person in charge of this business unit, what is the best way to handle it?"

Hill froze for a moment; she hadn't expected Levi to ask such a professional and tricky question.

Relying almost entirely on the instinctive wisdom of her ancient race, she answered subconsciously, "Is there even a need to ask? Naturally, we must get there before the competitor. Either completely dismantle the bomb to eliminate the hidden danger, or take full control of it so the detonator is in our own hands."

"Excellent." A satisfied smile appeared on Levi's face. He suddenly spread the parchment map out on the stone table in front of Hill. "Congratulations, Chief Consultant. You are now the technical lead for this 'Bomb Disposal Project.'"

The familiar mountain ranges on the map and the words "Silvermoon" marked in Ancient Elven at the destination hit Hill's heart like a heavy hammer.

Her face turned deathly pale instantly, her emerald eyes filled with shock and rage.

"You... you're crazy!" Her voice became shrill with agitation. "You have no idea what that place is! It's not some treasure vault; it's a prison my ancestors used to seal away an ancient calamity! Opening it will bring a devastating disaster to the entire North!"

"I know," Levi's answer was terrifyingly calm. "I also know that those greedy, ignorant fools in the Inquisition are holding the wrong key and trying to open a door they don't understand at all. Do you think it's better to wait for them to use brute force to blow the door open, release the monster inside, and let the entire North pay for their stupidity? Or is it better for us, under the guidance of a professional (that's you), to proactively reinforce the seal or even study how to control it, turning this 'uncontrollable external risk' into a 'controllable internal project'?"

His words were like a sharp scalpel, precisely dissecting all of Hill's internal excuses and escapism.

Indeed, she had been running away.

But the Inquisition's pursuit had made her realize that running away wouldn't solve the problem.

That place would be discovered sooner or later.

Rather than letting it fall into the hands of a bunch of madmen, it would be better to...

"I formally propose," Levi said, noticing her wavering gaze and strengthening his tone, "the establishment of the 'Silvermoon Ruins Security Control and Risk Assessment Project Team.' You, Ms. Hill, will serve as the Project Manager with veto power, responsible for all technical decisions related to the ruins' seal. Blackstone Territory will provide you with all necessary security, logistics, and resource support. Your goal isn't treasure hunting, but ensuring that 'bomb' remains safe forever."

Veto power... Project Manager...

Hill was a bit dazed by Levi's combination of moves. Her humiliating status as a prisoner was quietly replaced at this moment with that of a powerful Project Manager with heavy responsibilities.

She looked into Levi's eyes, which were so sincere they lacked even a hint of impurity. After struggling for a long time, she finally gave a difficult nod: "...Fine, I agree. I need a capable squad that must follow my commands completely."

"No problem." Levi immediately turned to Blackfinger. "Minister Blackfinger, select twenty of the most elite warriors from your Security Department to form the 'Ruins Security Special Task Force,' under the full command of Manager Hill. For equipment, pick the best from the warehouse! Assemble at the castle gates in half an hour!"

"Yes! My Lord!" Blackfinger punched his chest excitedly and left to carry out the order.

Dwarves were naturally full of curiosity about underground secrets; this mission was right up his alley.

Under Levi's push, the plan began to be executed with astonishing efficiency.

However, just as all of Blackstone Territory was running at high speed for this new project, a scout covered in dust with cracked lips came crawling and rolling into the castle's main hall.

He didn't even stop to take a drink of water before kneeling on one knee and reporting in a raspy voice:

"My Lord! Urgent military intelligence! It's not the Inquisition!"

The scout panted heavily, his face carrying an incomprehensible confusion and terror.

"At Eagles Sorrow Valley, less than ten kilometers from the Silvermoon Ruins, we discovered a knightly troop camping in secret! There are about fifty people, roughly a company, well-equipped and heavily guarded... The banner they are flying... is... is House Byron's Obsidian Lion!"