Blood Holy Scripture: True Ancestor Charlotte de Castel
Chapter 241: -33- The Death of the Old Duke

Chapter 241: -33- The Death of the Old Duke

Bold City, Duke Mansion.

"Cough, cough, cough... cough, cough, cough..."

The intense coughing echoed intermittently as Old Duke Andre lay in bed, his figure gaunt, a stark contrast to his vigorous demeanor a year ago.

The lit incense gently emitted a light blue smoke in the brazier, exuding a mix of spices and medicinal scents.

In the spacious bedroom, the windows were tightly shut, eerily quiet, with only his longtime personal maid left to serve the old Duke.

"Lord Duke, it’s time for your medicine."

The maid held a tray with both hands, respectfully saying.

The old Duke opened his cloudy eyes with difficulty and glanced at the tray which held a silver container filled with black powder and a tall glass of water.

"Uh, what... what is this?"

He asked hoarsely and weakly, his voice as strained and slow as if being dragged out of a nearly collapsing carriage.

"This is a spiritual medicine created from a secret recipe found by Prince Philip in ancient eastern texts, made from the powder of a thousand-year-old mummy mixed with Coria balm and combined with Holy Water from the Church. It should help with your illness,"

the maid respectfully explained.

"Mu...mummy? Cough, cough, cough..."

The old Duke’s voice rose slightly, his coughing becoming more severe.

"Lord Duke..."

The maid put the tray beside the bed and quickly rushed forward to adjust the Duke’s breathing.

The old Duke opened his mouth, struggling to breathe a few breaths, weakly saying:

"Help... help me sit up."

The maid supported the old Duke’s arm, gnarled like deadwood, struggling to prop him up.

Through the bedside mercury mirror, the old Duke saw his reflection—his gaunt appearance and his gray, disheveled hair, his expression somewhat despondent.

He tremulously opened his mouth while the maid carefully mixed the black powder with Holy Water and fed him bit by bit.

The paste-like "spiritual medicine" entered his throat, bringing a strong spicy flavor that made the old Duke cough violently again until he painfully swallowed it after adjusting a few sips of Holy Water.

With the medicine in his stomach, the old Duke soon felt a warm power gradually spreading in his body, nourishing his increasingly decaying body.

Regaining a little strength, the old Duke’s ever-delayed thoughts also slowly started to turn:

"You... you just said, who... who brought this recipe?"

"Lord Duke, it was Prince Philip,"

the maid respectfully replied.

"Phi... Philip...? Has he... already arrived?"

The old Duke paused.

"Lord Duke, Prince Philip arrived last night, and he is currently outside waiting with Lady Eleanor,"

the maid informed.

The old Duke fell silent.

After a long time, he sighed deeply, his voice hoarsely saying:

"Let them... come in."

The bedroom door, like rotting wood, creaked open as Third Prince Philip and Eleanor stepped into the room hand in hand.

"Father Lord Duke..."

Both the prince and his wife approached the bed and respectfully bowed to the old Duke.

The old Duke stared at his long-unseen daughter.

She seemed much thinner than in the past.

Her eyes had lost the vivacity of old, likely also burdened by the pressures of royal life.

Thinking this, a twinge of guilt surged in the old Duke’s heart.

Perhaps... he should not have allowed his daughter to marry into the New Moon royal family.

Without the marriage, he could have had his daughter find a husband and continue the legacy.

Without the marriage, she could have stayed beside him, sparing him this lonely last moment.

Regrettably, there are no ifs in this world.

When he learned of having a bastard son, he had already forsaken his daughter.

Perhaps this was the Divine Lord’s punishment—his daughter became a bargaining chip for consolidating his rule, and now, he had lost both his daughter and Laino.

The lineage of the Bold family, which lasted a thousand years, might end with him.

Recalling the tall figure that had stormed out a year ago, a flicker of sorrow passed through the old Duke’s gaze.

The old Duke didn’t know how to describe his current feelings.

Desperation?

Sadness?

No...

When the extinction of his lineage truly confronted him, he suddenly found himself much calmer than he had imagined.

Perhaps he no longer had the energy to think too much, or perhaps he was just tired.

Reflecting on his life, he ascended to his position in the Kingdom during its tumultuous times at the age of fifteen, followed the King into battle, and defeated enemies time and again in the Star Moon Wars.

In his life, he didn’t know how many battles he had fought, how many enemies he had killed.

The armies of Falling Star Kingdom trembled at his name, while the people of New Moon Kingdom cheered for his troops.

He was hailed as the greatest Duke of Bold in a thousand years, the Lion Andre.

He had been spirited, the center of attention.

He held great power, his word unquestioned throughout the Duchy.

His influence was overwhelming, managing the Kingdom’s army, even the King sought his counsel at the royal court.

Yet, it was also he who, in an attempt to advance further in the Kingdom through warfare, excessively drained his family’s resources during consecutive campaigns, depleting the millennium-old foundation of the Bold family.

And it was also he who, during his years away on campaigns, continuously delegated power to the nobles to gain their support, eventually leading to a gradual loss of control over his domains.