The Military Princess Won’t Fall in Love with a Magic Scientist

Chapter 193. Morton: I Have Been Ordered to Take Over the City Defense System

Morton’s pupils contracted sharply.

He whipped his head around and looked at Logaris.

The young man was still leaning against the doorway, head lowered as he idly picked at his nails, as if what had just happened had nothing to do with him, as if the air itself had simply decided to play a joke.

Spatial Displacement!

And not only that—without the slightest warning, without an incantation, without even a casting gesture, he had instantly transferred a Sixth-Tier Mage along with his chair!

How was that even possible?!

A layer of cold sweat instantly broke out across Morton’s back.

He himself was a Sixth-Tier Mage specializing in evocation, but he knew perfectly well that if he were facing that move...

Was this brat really only Fifth Tier, as the reports claimed?

The intelligence was wrong. Terribly wrong.

Morton put away the scorn and arrogance he had worn so openly before. His expression became darker and more wary than ever before.

He stared fixedly at Logaris, trying to spot even the slightest flaw in him, but all he saw was that maddening smile.

“Sylvia.”

Morton no longer bothered with the matter of the seating arrangement, because he knew that in that regard, he had already lost. He directly pulled a document bearing the council’s seal from his robes and slapped it heavily onto the table, trying to recover some ground through sheer force of posture.

Smack!

The document slid across the polished tabletop and came to a precise stop in front of Sylvia.

“I did not come here to drink tea and reminisce.”

Morton’s voice was as cold and hard as iron, filled with the forcefulness of official business. “Three days ago, the Royal Capital’s highest-level Mana Monitoring Tower detected a destructive mana fluctuation in Winter City that reached the Seventh Tier.”

He leaned forward, both hands braced against the table, pressing aggressively. “As the Governor of the Northern Territory, you must give me a reasonable explanation! What dangerous experiment are you conducting? Or are you secretly consorting with something unclean? This is a severe threat to the security of the kingdom!”

Sylvia picked up the document and gave it a casual glance, her expression unchanged.

“It was an accident.”

“An accident?” Morton let out a cold laugh, as if he had just heard an absurd joke. “Do not try to brush me off with an excuse to fool a three-year-old. The council suspects that the Northern Territory is conducting forbidden black magic research. If you cannot explain yourself clearly, I have the authority to strip you of your military command on the spot!”

The dagger was finally revealed.

This was their true objective all along.

Using the incident as a pretext to seize military authority.

The atmosphere instantly turned razor-sharp, and even the air itself seemed to freeze.

“It was the Grand Duke of Hell.”

Logaris pulled out the chair beside Sylvia and sat down with easy authority. His tone was so flat that it sounded as though he were talking about some nameless nobody, rather than an existence capable of destroying the world.

“The Lord of Wrath, an avatar of Ifreles, descended. That old thing had a rather bad temper, exchanged a few moves with us, and then we sent him packing.”

When Morton heard that, the fingers that had been tapping the tabletop suddenly stopped.

Ifreles... the Lord of Wrath.

As a learned Sixth-Tier Mage and deputy commander of the Court Mage Corps, he had read no small number of books preserved in the royal library.

That name had indeed appeared in those sealed forbidden tomes. It represented an ancient existence embodying ultimate violence and destruction.

But not the slightest change appeared on his face. Only a shadow, faint and nearly impossible to detect, flickered deep within his eyes before being swiftly concealed beneath his usual arrogance and disdain.

“Go on. Keep making things up.”

Morton let out a cold laugh, his eyes carrying the smug certainty of someone who believed he had seen through everything. “Young man, to cover up an experimental accident, you are even dragging out a myth that was swept into history’s garbage heap long ago?”

He swept a contemptuous gaze across everyone present before finally letting his eyes settle on Logaris. A mocking curve tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Or do you think I’ve gone senile enough to believe a lie that is low-grade?”

Morton waved a hand, decisively ending the subject. Clearly, he had no intention of wasting time on what he considered a ridiculous excuse.

“That is enough. Put away those childish tricks of yours. I do not care whether you summoned some out-of-control elemental monster or blew up some forbidden alchemical reactor. None of that matters.”

He pushed the document forward again and jabbed a finger heavily at the line marked “Safety Assessment.” His voice remained as hard as iron.

“I do not care about the third-rate myth you concocted. I only care about the facts—and the fact is that whatever happened in the Northern Territory has already seriously threatened the stability of the kingdom. Your safety assessment is unacceptable.”

At last, he bared his true fangs, his gaze greedy and cold.

“In light of the extreme fragility of Winter City’s defensive system, the fact that you have only a single Sixth-Tier Knight, and the Governor’s severe lack of capability in handling sudden crises, the council in the Royal Capital has reached an emergency decision.”

Morton pointed out the window at the griffon riders outside, who were still regrouping in the plaza. Though they looked battered, their equipment was still first-rate.

“For the safety of Her Highness the Princess, and to prevent the Northern Territory from becoming a hidden danger to the kingdom, starting today, the Ashen Mage Corps and the Royal Griffon Knights that I brought with me will fully take over and reorganize Winter City’s city defense system!”

Sylvia did not grow angry. She simply lifted her teacup at an unhurried pace and gently blew at the tea leaves floating on the surface.

“Master Morton, perhaps you have spent too long in the Royal Capital and forgotten the rules of the Northern Territory.” She took a sip of tea, her tone as calm as though she were discussing the weather. “Here, the soldiers obey only my orders. Those griffon riders you brought may look impressive, but without someone to guide them, I am afraid they would not even be able to find Winter City’s latrines, much less deploy a defense.”

A soft barb.

Morton’s face darkened. Of course he knew seizing military authority would not be easy, but he had righteousness on his side—or so he believed—and he had strength.

“It seems Her Highness the Princess is determined to defy the council’s decision.”

Morton let out a cold laugh. The dark crimson mage robe on his body stirred without wind, flapping loudly. A vast surge of magical power belonging to a Sixth-Tier powerhouse erupted from him without the slightest restraint.

It was pure fire-element mana—violent and scorching.

The temperature in the conference room skyrocketed instantly. The papers on the table began to curl and yellow, and the air was soon filled with the smell of scorching. The guards standing by the door turned pale and stumbled backward several steps under the pressure, finding even breathing difficult.

He was demonstrating his strength.

In a world where the biggest fist made the rules, as long as the Seventh Tier did not appear, the Sixth Tier stood at the summit.

“It is my duty to correct the mistakes of the young.” Morton stared at Sylvia, while the ruby at the tip of his staff lit up with a dangerous glow. “Even if the means must be a little rough.”

Sylvia set down her teacup.

Just as she was about to speak, a long, slender hand suddenly came down on her shoulder.

Logaris rose to his feet.

He moved very slowly, so slowly that it looked as though he had only just woken up and was stretching. He stepped around his chair and walked to stand before Morton, with nothing but the broad redwood conference table between them.

“Rough?”

Logaris pushed up the glasses on the bridge of his nose. Behind the lenses, his eyes held no trace of a smile—only a bottomless indifference. “Master Morton, do you perhaps have some misunderstanding of the word ‘rough’? Also, at your age, with such a fiery temper, it is very easy to burst a blood vessel.”

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!