Chapter Forty-One: Diplomatic Immunity

Kevin’s surrender led to the others losing all will to resist. At this moment, their strength was hopelessly outmatched, they had wounded comrades, and were deep inside a foreign country with virtually no way to escape. Surrender was the most reasonable choice, though for assassins, it was perhaps hard to accept.

They slowly descended the stairs. Kevin took the injured Laulu from the others—he bore six wounds, apparently inflicted by sharp weapons. An ordinary man would have died long ago, but even with Laulu’s formidable abilities, he was unconscious, his bleeding unchecked, and peril threatened at any moment.

As Little Spoon descended, she scanned around for any possible opening. But the flames outside were spreading, and it was impossible to tell how many enemies had come. Crucially, they were burdened by the wounded. If they fought to the death, maybe they could take some enemies with them, but escape would be impossible. After all, their opponents belonged to a nation.

“Don’t worry,” Jack whispered. “My parrot has already gone.”

The others nodded faintly.

“Does anyone have any emergency treatment?” Kevin’s heart was anxious. “If Laulu remains like this, he might not make it.”

Little Nine sighed. “The array exploded unexpectedly. He’s wounded because he tried to save us.”

“If there’s no other way, I’ll use these as a stopgap,” Little Spoon reluctantly produced several magic scrolls. “Ice spell, freeze his wounds for now, but…”

“Let’s do it,” Kevin immediately took the scrolls, channeling his spirit energy, and gently tapped Laulu’s wounds. He used the cold to staunch the bleeding, careful not to actually freeze solid ice. Kevin only knew the theory; this was his first practical attempt. Fortunately, the bleeding seemed to stop, though the wound felt icy and he was uncertain about the temperature.

Outside, voices shouted again: “What are you doing? Hurry up! If you don’t come out now, we’ll set fire to the house!”

“Alright! We surrender, please don’t act rashly,” Kevin replied as he and the others slowly stepped outside.

Immediately, three or five ropes were thrown over them. Since they had chosen to surrender, Kevin and the others did not resist. For Kevin, it was merely uncomfortable, but for Little Spoon and Little Nine, two beautiful women, their treatment was inevitably unfortunate. These soldiers from backward regions had no concept of gentlemanly conduct; a few rough hands were unavoidable.

Kevin immediately warned them, “I remind you, we are foreigners! We have diplomatic immunity!”

The crowd paused, those holding ropes halting with confusion. Judging by their expressions, diplomatic immunity was a concept utterly foreign to them.

“To put it simply, we will go with you, but we expect basic respect. Here, citizens of Lowballe are afforded the status of your nobility—perhaps even higher. I hope you understand this!” Kevin’s tone was firm, though he was already bound.

“What nonsense?” One soldier, annoyed, raised his hand to strike Kevin.

“Hmph,” Kevin sneered. “You can hit me, but I hope you’re ready for the consequences. You mobilized so many to capture us—if anyone is to strike, it isn’t a lowly soldier like you!”

Smack! Kevin received a slap. Reasoning with foot soldiers was clearly pointless.

Bang! Little Spoon’s battle energy flashed, and the ropes binding her snapped instantly. The soldiers, startled, raised their weapons at her.

Little Spoon spoke up: “Listen—coming with you is a courtesy, not a necessity. Don’t push us. I admit I can’t escape, but if I die, at least I’ll take the first three rows of you with me!”

The back three rows shouted, “What are you afraid of? Take her down!”

The front rows fell silent.

Just now, Little Spoon had unleashed orange battle energy—fifth-tier warrior, no doubt. The soldiers of Labochiel were several grades below those of Lowballe. Even red battle energy hadn’t spread through their ranks. Alarm was inevitable.

A squad leader stepped forward. “Rest assured, we’re only following orders to apprehend you. If you don’t resist, we won’t do anything excessive.”

“Hmph.” Little Spoon gestured for them to bind her. The squad leader glanced around and signaled a soldier from the front row. The soldier hurriedly wrapped the rope around her twice and retreated, visibly flustered.

“Move!” the squad leader ordered, and the group escorted Kevin and the others toward the city gate. Kevin sighed inwardly; when facing brainless fools, strength truly was the best solution. Little Spoon excelled at that, whereas he had simply suffered a slap, but now was not the time to speak out.

They were marched to a place called the Solutam City Defense Office. Solutam was the main city where Kevin found himself, a border city of Labochiel.

Upon entering the defense office, it was as if they’d left the slums and stepped into a noble’s palace—carved columns and painted beams lined the hall, crystal lamps hung overhead, and a giant oil painting adorned the wall. It depicted a noblewoman strolling amidst flowers, art of the highest quality, but wholly unsuited to a military base. Evidently, the commanding officer here lacked any real cultural refinement.

On the dais, a colonel addressed them: “Who are you? Why did you attack our city gate at night?”

Kevin stepped forward. “We were enjoying the cool night air when suddenly, an army forced us here without reason. I must ask you, sir—what crime have we committed?”

“Nonsense!” The colonel raged. “These people attacked me just now, and I saw through their plans, injuring them. His wounds are proof!”

“Is that so?” Kevin paused. “How absurd! Tonight, unknown groups stormed our residence, attacking us. We couldn’t sleep, fought desperately to escape, and rested on the rooftop. That’s how these wounds came about!”

“You’re talking nonsense!” The colonel turned to a subordinate. “Did this happen tonight?”

“Yes,” the subordinate had to reply. Yesterday, Little Spoon wore a short skirt, which drew a crowd and led to chaos—now it served as Kevin’s excuse.

“You…” The colonel gritted his teeth and asked, “And how do you explain your black attire?”

“In your country, chaos reigns at night—robbery is not a crime, nor is murder. We wear black to protect ourselves. Not just us; most of your citizens do likewise,” Kevin replied.

“Wait!” A subordinate stepped forward. “If you’re foreigners, you should have presented documents at the gate. Where are your credentials?”

Kevin gave a cold, repeated laugh.

“Why are you laughing?” the colonel roared.

Kevin, having finished laughing, finally thought of a solution. “We entered through the city gate openly. I don’t know about any documents.”

“How is that possible?” the colonel roared.

“How is it not?” Kevin’s voice grew louder. “When we arrived, your soldiers tried to search the women. We found that unethical, so we left. The next day, we returned to find mercenaries and soldiers clashing. We entered openly, and no one stopped us!”

“Is it our fault that your country can’t control mercenaries?” Kevin countered.

“You…” The colonel stood up, momentarily lost for words, glancing instinctively at the painting.

“Sir,” a nearby officer stepped forward, “such people just need a beating! Leave them to me!”

“I reiterate—I possess diplomatic immunity!” Kevin declared proudly. “I am a foreigner! You cannot interrogate me alone; a Lowballe official must be present. Torture is out of the question! I hope you understand the consequences.”

“Who do you think you are?” the officer shouted. “This is Labochiel soil. You don’t get to make demands!”

Kevin sneered, “I am the son of the Thunder Knights’ captain—one of Lowballe’s three main knight orders. My name is Sain!”

The crowd fell silent.

In this critical moment, Kevin knew his own name wouldn’t intimidate them, so he impersonated someone else—it would take time to verify. He turned to introduce Jack: “This is Oka, son of the Lord of Landon City.”

“The wounded man is a priest of the Church of Light, and beside him is his accompanying nun,” Kevin finally gestured toward Little Spoon. “She is my personal servant and bodyguard.” His tone was calm, almost convincing.

The crowd: “……”

“You've now offended the Thunder Knights and the Church of Light! I hope you consider whether it’s worth it. The Thunder Knights have repeatedly repelled beastfolk invasions—ten years ago, they defeated a force of a thousand beastfolk with only three hundred men, pursuing them for over thirty kilometers. Five years ago, at the kingdom’s military parade, the entire order displayed orange battle energy as they marched through the square. I believe your Grand Duke was in attendance,” Kevin spoke quickly and confidently.

“Are you threatening me?” The colonel slammed his fist on the table.

“No!” Kevin used diplomatic phrasing. “Lowballe has always upheld peaceful, friendly principles. But if your country cannot maintain basic etiquette, we can only express regret and hope you strengthen your walls against unforeseen troubles.”

An officer finally lost patience. “Let me tell you, this is Labochiel territory. We call the shots!”

“I hope you remain calm and choose your words carefully,” Kevin replied. “I represent not just myself, but my nation. This is now a matter of diplomacy—do you even have the rank to speak here?”

The officer: “……”

“I remember the man who slapped me,” Kevin sneered. “Lieutenant rank, mole on the left side of his nose, small scar on the forehead, gray fingernail on the left ring finger, red mark on the left side of his neck. He’s taller than me by half a head with a helmet, walks with his left foot slightly turned out, and is missing a tooth on the upper right row. I could easily sketch his portrait—don’t think I’ve forgotten!”

The whole room turned to look at a man by the door. He heard Kevin’s words clearly and instinctively touched his face. He had always stood behind Kevin, and Kevin had never looked back—a testament to the accuracy of his description.

“Sir!” Kevin continued, knowing debate required overwhelming information to keep his opponents off balance. “You used the city wall array—was that truly approved by your superiors?”

The colonel waved dismissively. “That’s not your concern.”

“I simply wish to remind you not to trust rumors lightly! Not every foreigner acts in your interest. Your border directly touches Lowballe. If war breaks out, this becomes the front line! Even if the Lion Empire allies with you, their response won’t be swift,” Kevin pressed.

The colonel’s face stiffened as he slowly sat back, glancing again at the painting.

“You’ve looked at that painting several times,” Kevin observed. “The area below is badly scratched, and the floor is gouged. Locals here often dig tunnels at home; I suspect this opulent defense office has similar features?”

The soldiers instinctively looked at the painting. The colonel hurriedly barked, “Silence!”

“I wonder which imperial advisor is manipulating things from behind that painting?” Kevin asked loudly.

From the current continental situation, only the Lion Empire would aid Labochiel. Kevin knew this well from years of travel. Along with Labochiel, several small nations bordering Lowballe had been provoked or incited by the Lion Empire, aiming to hinder Lowballe’s rise. In response, Lowballe covertly sold large quantities of weapons to local mercenary groups, resulting in years of conflict between mercenaries and regular troops, leaving the region in chaos.

“This one cannot be left alive—kill him.” A hoarse voice suddenly issued from behind the painting.

This startled everyone. None of the guards had expected that someone was actually hidden behind the painting. The colonel’s palms grew sweaty; the mastermind was now exposed, and future problems loomed.

“Your voice sounds very old!” Kevin continued. “It’s said the Lion Empire has a highly patriotic old general. The border containment strategy was his idea. He has five sons, three daughters, and fifteen grandchildren—all imperial soldiers. He once said that upon retirement, he would travel the world.”

Everyone instinctively listened to Kevin.

“I’ve wondered—can such a general, devoted to patriotism, really retire and travel happily?” Kevin sighed. “Even as a spy, it’s rare for an elderly man to be involved. Am I right, General Haitlan?”

Silence fell; even the colonel was at a loss. Little Spoon and the others were both tense and excited. This was their first time witnessing Kevin’s prowess in debate—though bound, he remained the center of attention. In truth, Kevin wasn’t entirely sure, but he had to feign absolute confidence.

“This one cannot be left alive! Kill him!” The voice behind the painting commanded again.

The colonel hesitated, standing up. Kevin immediately responded, “I have diplomatic immunity!”

“Sir!” An officer volunteered, “Let me kill him! This is Lowballe territory—why should a foreigner show off here?”

“Show off?” Kevin laughed. “I’m bound—how am I showing off? Frankly, I can say so much only because of my nation’s power! If I were in the Lion Empire, I’d have been executed already. I don’t believe Lowballe would start a war for me, but as for your country…”

“Well?” the officer asked.

“Just sell more advanced weapons to the mercenaries—your army will collapse without a fight!” Kevin said incisively.

The officer fell silent, unable to respond.

Another officer jumped in: “Don’t talk to me about national issues—they don’t concern us! No matter how strong your country is, we can kill you at any time!”

Kevin: “……”

“Why are you silent?” the officer asked.

“I don’t talk to fools,” Kevin sneered.

“Damn you!” The officer drew his sword.

“Heh, your colonel hasn’t ordered my death, yet you—a mere captain—are ready to strike. Do you obey the voice behind the painting, or do you ignore your commanding officer? Such discipline is truly eye-opening,” Kevin mocked.

“Stand down!” The colonel, red-faced, issued the order. The officer had to sheathe his sword and step aside.

The scene quieted; even the colonel was bewildered. Kevin’s arguments weren’t baseless—his intent was to have them detained for now. But the voice behind the painting demanded murder, presenting a dilemma.

“Report!” A soldier burst in from outside. “Sir, the Lowballe ambassador requests an audience!”

“So soon!” The colonel was shocked. The Lowballe embassy was in the central main city, over three hundred kilometers away. The speed was astonishing.

Helpless, the colonel replied, “Let him in!”

As soon as he finished speaking, a gust swept through the doorway, and a man appeared inside—a middle-aged mage with a staff and a badge indicating he was a seventh-level magus.

Lowballe’s ambassadors abroad were always formidable—only the talented were sent. Some major powers required that ambassadors not exceed a certain strength, lest a single expert be equivalent to an army stationed abroad. Even if not powerful, they were of exceptional wisdom. These small countries had neither such regulations nor dared to have them.

This was Lowballe’s neighbor, and a chaotic place. The ambassador’s strength was beyond question.

“I heard that citizens of Lowballe are detained here, so I came at once,” the ambassador said, scanning the room.

“Ambassador!” The colonel rose.

“He’s severely wounded!” The ambassador saw Laulu immediately. “He must be treated now! I’ll take them away!”

“No!” The colonel hastily ordered his men to block the way. The soldiers drew their swords.

The ambassador turned and sneered. “Even if these people are truly criminals, they must be treated before interrogation. Such barbaric conduct is disappointing.”

“You—” The colonel gritted his teeth.

The ambassador spoke in diplomatic terms. “You are not qualified to speak with me! Bring your city lord!”

The colonel: “……”

“I’ll take them to my residence for treatment,” the ambassador said, waving his hand. The soldiers felt an invisible force pushing them back, opening a path. They were bewildered, unable to grasp what had happened.

“If there are any issues, let your city lord come find me!” The ambassador led Kevin and the others away, the soldiers holding their weapons but not daring to attack.

“Report!” Another soldier rushed in. “The Lion Empire ambassador has arrived!”

“Invite him in!” The colonel perked up, excitedly moving to greet him.

The Lion Empire ambassador was also a seventh-level magus. He entered, surveyed the room, and noticed the detainees were gone. “Where are the prisoners?”

“The Lowballe ambassador took them,” the colonel replied helplessly.

The Lion Empire ambassador sighed, glanced at the colonel with contempt, shook his head, and departed, leaving behind, “You truly are a disappointment.”

The colonel: “……”

“What now, sir?” a sergeant asked.

“Notify the city lord immediately!” The colonel knew he could no longer handle the situation.

“But the city lord is…” The sergeant hesitated, gesturing suggestively.

The colonel cursed, “Damn it! Even in the dead of night, he’s busy with women!”