Kingdom’s Bloodline
chapter-606

As Prime Minister Cullen’s words carried a subtle implication, a hushed tension gripped the assembled courtiers.

Gilbert, sensing an unspoken urgency, couldn’t help but blurt out, “Your Excellency Prime Minister!”

Just then, a third voice chimed in, bringing a new perspective.

“Actually, if the Kingdom doesn’t have any better options and we’re left with no choice but to face this head-on, maybe...”

The unfamiliar voice seized the attention of the majority.

The courtiers turned to see who it was, and it turned out to be the only person in the Imperial Conference meeting who hadn’t said a word—the Vicar General Stylia Nydis of the Sunset Church, Stylia Nydis.1

Stylia Nydis nodded ever so slightly and said, “I could try talking to the Sunset Church, see if they would be willing to help out with the funding issue for the army’s expansion?”

This proposal had many in deep thought, their brows furrowed in contemplation.

“What? You?” Solder expressed doubt.

In the corner of the council table, the Vicar General smiled politely and nodded, saying, “I’m Guy Stylia Nydis, serving as the Vicar General of the Sunset Church Central Diocese. Today, I’m here on behalf of Archbishop Zenon, who’s on sick leave.”2

“I know who you are, kid,” Adviser Solder interrupted brusquely, “Can you tell us if you can secure the funds we need?”

The Vicar General, Guy, offered a faint smile, then closed his eyes in a prayerful gesture and replied, “I can’t make promises, but I’ll give it my best effort.”

Seeing the other side being so upfront, adviser Solder raised an eyebrow.

“If my memory serves me right, that Diallo ritual master in the capital’s Sunset Temple is the loudest critic of the existence of a regular army system,” he recalled. “He once said something

like, ‘A regular soldier fights for money, tainted by greed, while drafted soldiers wield their sword out of duty, a virtuous and honourable calling.’”

Guy maintained a humble tone, “True, most of the ritual masters in the Sunset Temple come from noble backgrounds and have close ties to nobility and suzerains from various regions.

“But we aren’t the same, Master Solder,” the Vicar General asserted with conviction, “The Sunset Church isn’t the Sunset Temple.”

Sunset Church

Solder fell silent for a moment, collecting his thoughts, and then looked earnestly at the priest and said, “Wait, who did you say you were again?”

On the other side, Prime Minister Cullen nodded knowingly. “Oh, you mean the age-old brawl between the Temple and the Church, the Rituals Department and the Missionary Department, the ritual masters and the bishops’ faith feud?”

The Vicar General turned to the Prime Minister, giving a friendly smile, “No, it’s not really about faith, just pure politics and stances.

“The Temple leans towards the nobility, while the Church stands by Your Majesty. It’s as simple as that.

“If we can reduce conscription and strengthen the regular army to diminish the Temple’s influence, the bishops within the Church will definitely support it.”

Hearing these words, many in the room began to ponder the implications.

Cullen’s eyes shifted slightly.

“Oh, as a follower of the Sunset, you’re really not holding back, are you?” he remarked.

“Not holding back?” Guy shrugged, unbothered. “No faith can exist separately from politics, and no religion is untouched by power struggles. If we avoid discussing politics under the guise of faith, that’s just ignoring the role of politics in human nature. That’s the real deception and a sign of disrespect, not just to our faith but also to the Sunset Goddess.”

As Guy made this point, even the King at the head of the long table raised his gaze a little.

After hearing these controversial thoughts, Cullen paused for a moment, then raised an intrigued eyebrow and said,3

“I guess I see why Gilbert vouched for you. You’re definitely more interesting than those priests who know nothing but preach.”

Gilbert mustered a half-hearted smile.

Vicar General Guy sighed and explained, “While I do appreciate your kind words, Your Grace, this line of thought isn’t widely accepted, especially among the Temple’s priests.

“So, it wouldn’t be wise for the Church to directly fund or involve itself in the Kingdom’s military affairs.”

Solder, who was most concerned about this issue, immediately put on a stern face.

“So, what’s your point?”

Guy turned to him, speaking seriously.

“If the Sunset Church wants to support expanding the regular army, it needs a valid reason.”

reason

That remark made quite a few people’s faces twitch with thought.

Guy gazed earnestly down the long table and said, “If Your Majesty would consider a change in tradition, allowing our missionaries to join the Royal Family’s regular army, I could have a stronger case to persuade the Council of Bishops for their financial support.”

Solder raised an eyebrow in puzzlement. “But we already have field priests. Whenever there’s a conflict, the Temple sends qualified ritual masters to oversee departure ceremonies...”

Guy’s lips curled into a wry smile as he calmly responded, “Dismiss them.”

“What?” Solder exclaimed with disbelief in his eyes.

“I suggest, Master Solder, that we dismiss the field priests from the Royal family’s regular army and replace them with army missionaries,” Vicar General Guy patiently explained. “The Church can provide the same, if not superior, support for the regular army as the Temple.”

Solder took a moment to absorb this suggestion, his expression changing rapidly in those few seconds.

The others around the table exchanged uncertain glances.

The King’s gaze remained distant and mysterious.

Prime Minister Cullen grunted and said,

“Those ritual masters at the Sunset Temple won’t be too thrilled about this, I bet.” Guy turned and spoke with a sharp edge,

“Well, the Temple’s never thrilled about much, is it?

“Especially when it comes to the Royal Family’s regular army.”

“But that used to be just politics. You’re turning it into a religious conflict,” Cullen said, shaking his head. “Having them serve with the army has always been a tradition, no matter...”

Guy calmly replied,

“Indeed, just like how suzerains keep calling up their local militias, that’s a tradition too—until the regular army came out of nowhere.”4

Solder’s eyebrows twitched.

The Vicar General turned to the visibly dejected Chief of Finance and said,

“What’s more, if we have our missionaries join the army, the Sunset Church can set aside a portion of the faithful’s donations to support part of the regular army’s ongoing expenses. This way, we can ease the burden on the Finances.5

“And this is something the self-proclaimed orthodox Temple, with its lofty ideals, cannot achieve.”6

“Hmm...” Kirkirk, who had appeared uninterested until now, suddenly perked up, his small eyes gleaming,

“Well, it’s not completely out of the question, is it?”

On the other side, the advisor stayed silent for a few seconds before cautiously asking,

“So, let me get this straight: the Sunset Church could back an expansion of the regular army, as long as Your Majesty permits your missionaries to replace the field priests. Is that right?”

The Vicar General smiled and replied plainly, “Of course, it’s not that simple.”

But then his gaze changed.

“But without this leverage, I must admit my ability to persuade the Council of Bishops is indeed reduced.”

Solder huffed with a touch of cynicism, “This is plain and clear blackmail, if I ever saw one.’

“But it’s also in the best interest of the Kingdom,” Guy countered swiftly,

“See, Temple priests, they’re mostly from noble backgrounds, rubbing elbows with the suzerains. They naturally have little connection to or interest in the regular army. Their role in the troops is mostly for show.”8

“But our missionaries? They have a more humble origins, are used to working with common people, and they’d be a better fit for the army—more dedicated, more capable, enthusiastic, and they’d blend in better.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what’s got me worried,” Solder sneered.

At this point, King Kessel let out a mysterious and intriguing hum, leaving everyone wondering.

“I must say, Guy, you’re supposed to be a cleric, someone who has sworn to serve the gods.”

On the other side, Prime Minister Cullen squinted his eyes,

“All this talk about interests, chips, and calculations—isn’t that a bit too worldly for someone in your position?”

“Worldly?” Stylia Nydis smiled faintly,

“The King of Renaissance’s theology tutor and close comrade, Brother Mohazzard the Prophet, had a famous saying: ‘Theology is the study of humanity.’”9 Gilbert shifted in his seat.

“Divinity resides within humanity, and humanity carries divinity within. Only by exploring every aspect of humanity can we hope to find that spark of divinity.”

Guy chuckled,

“Who says the ordinary isn’t sacred? There’s a touch of heaven right here on earth.”

“Ah, you’re not just a little interesting, Guy,” the Prime Minister’s tone changed, “You’re actually pretty scary.”

The Vicar General made another prayer gesture, his face a mask of devotion, “The goddess’ trials always make the path of truth seem more treacherous and rugged.” “No.”

After some hesitation, Solder found the right words and firmly refused.

“The Royal Family’s regular army doesn’t need missionaries with them.”

He stated with conviction,

“The regular army should not be controlled by anyone outside His Majesty’s authority, especially when it comes to their finances.”

As Solder spoke these words, he cast a glance towards King Kessel, but much to his dismay, the King remained impassive.

Guy, unbothered, continued the conversation,

“If it’s about how the money goes through, we can always discuss it. Perhaps the Church could donate this money to the Finances, and then the Finances could allocate it to the Military Affairs...” “That sounds doable!” The Chief of Finance’s eyes lit up. “If you can make this happen, Guy, you’ll be a lifesaver!”

Stylia Nydis nodded politely, saying, “It’s by the grace of the Goddess; I won’t take undue credit.” But Solder’s position stayed unwavering, “To what end?”

“Constellation spent a whole five centuries, with countless sacrifices and bloodshed, to drive religion and divine authority back into the Temple.”

“As long as I’m in charge of the Military Affairs Department, history won’t take a step back.” Solder’s words were steadfast, with no room for compromise.

“That’s not necessarily true,” Kirkirk mumbled from the side. “The way you’ve been talking, it’s like you’d make anyone Prime Minister if they helped you expand the regular army.” Solder’s face tightened.

“Well, then, wouldn’t I be relieved?” Prime Minister Cullen sighed, shifting his ample frame that entirely occupied his chair. “Please, Vicar General Guy, make it happen?”10

Vicar General Guy responded with a modest smile.

“I understand your concerns, Master Solder, but what you’ve said is a lesson learned long ago: The Temple’s priests fell into the traps of arrogance, greed, and decay, believing themselves superior. They let personal desires outweigh the common good, allowed lies to obscure the truth, exploited a false sense of divine authority for earthly gains, all while vying for power through faith, and they lost their way.”

Vicar General Guy nodded, his demeanour still gentle,

“My predecessors, the clergy of the Missionary Department, saw these mistakes and broke away from the Temple. We upheld the true teachings of the Goddess, founding the Sunset Church nearly four centuries ago. The Head ritual master and the Archbishop don’t hold authority over each other, and we in the Rituals Department and the Missionary Department maintain clear boundaries. We are not...”

Solder impatiently waved his hand, cutting him off.

“Temple, Church, priests, missionaries—honestly, they’re all birds of a feather as far as I’m concerned.”11

“When they’re weak and in need, they’ll naturally play along.”

“But once they get a taste of power, their greed knows no bounds; wanting more and more.”12 He cautioned,

“Times have changed—the days when the Sunset Temple held limitless power, where a single command rallied hundreds and they even had the guts to challenge the Renaissance Palace or meddle in matters of royal succession—those days? Long gone.”

His words sent a collective shiver through the entire Imperial Conference.

Guy heaved a long, unhidden sigh of disappointment.

“I see, Master Solder. It seems like the aspiration of our fellow clerics to contribute to the nation will have to wait for another time.”

At the end of the long table, the King’s icy gaze was once again obscured by the setting sun.

“So, in light of these difficulties, it’s unlikely we can push through military reforms,” Prime Minister Cullen, who presided over the Imperial Conference, said with a sigh.

Hearing this, Solder shot another frustrated look at Kirkirk.

“Don’t look at me! If you need funds, Guy and the Church have plenty!”

Kirkirk knew exactly what was going through the other’s mind and didn’t seem to be bothered.

“As for whether you want to pursue it or not, that’s your call...”

“It’s not just about funds,” unexpectedly, Prime Minister Cullen spoke up, putting an end to the brewing argument over military finances.

This immediately drew the attention of the assembled courtiers.

“In fact, concerning the incident at the Prince’s banquet earlier, I had another thought,” Duke Cullen’s gaze was sharp.

“Last night, that minor Western Desert noble made a scene at the royal banquet but was saved by Duke Thales.”

Gilbert wrinkled his brows.

“This inevitably reminds people that His Highness returned under the protection of the Western Desert’s army, not to mention that sword of Fakenhaz’s. It’s easy for people to have the wrong expectations or misinterpret the royal family’s stance, especially at a time like this...” As Cullen spoke, he shook his head, appearing genuinely regretful.

“Prime Minister!” Gilbert reprimanded firmly.

Cullen gave a slight shudder, as if just realising his oversight, and offered an apologetic smile.

But following the Prime Minister’s remarks, many in the room nodded thoughtfully, seeing the point.

“Speaking of which, about the Doyle family,” Lord Krapen, the Minister of Agriculture, who had been rather quiet all day, suddenly spoke up,

“Their Mirror Lake region has become a major grain-producing area in recent years. It’s also a critical source of troops for both the Jadestar Private Army and the Central Regular Army. Moreover, they are part of the Seven Jadestar Attendants, which might influence the attitudes of other families.”

“This, in turn, might affect the progress of military reform.”

He carefully scanned the gathered officials,

“I believe we need to promptly assess this situation, get things in order, and then reach a decision...”

“Absolutely, the incident at the royal banquet has landed us in significant trouble, whether it’s concerning the upcoming military reform or this letter.”

King Kessel’s figure on the throne stirred slightly in response.

Viscount Kenney sneaked a quick look in the direction of the King. Seeing no immediate reaction, he cleared his throat,

“I’ll be blunt; forgive me, but word has it that Mindis Hall has turned into the hottest spot in the capital. Everyone’s rushing over there. And when you look at what the Doyle family did at the banquet, yet they still got spared by His Highness... Now, I’m not saying anything against Duke

Thales, but sometimes, his behaviour at these kinds of gatherings can be a bit misleading, you know...”13

“Kenney!” Gilbert felt the meeting was taking a troubling turn and was both surprised and furious. “His Highness" conduct at the royal banquet couldn’t be more graceful! He was kind and generous, showing fairness in every way!”

Master Kirkirk shrugged,

“But, you see, right now, with this letter staring at us, the last things we need are kindness and fairness.”

Viscount Kenney nodded in agreement and added,

“At least, not every way."

Gilbert's anxiety was palpable,

“Regardless of the consequences, His Highness brilliantly saved two lives and two families, preventing a worse outcome!’’

But another voice weighed in,

“Yet it was done through a savage, bloodthirsty duel,”

“May the Sunset forgive him.”

Gilbert turned to his dearest friend in disbelief.

“Guy?”

Vicar General Stylia Nydis nodded, his expression filled with regret.

“The bishops had been discussing this matter before I arrived at the palace.”

The courtiers exchanged meaningful glances.

The Vicar General made a sincere gesture of atonement.

“With the Sunset bearing witness: the Duke of Star Lake himself took a sword to duel, resorting to the ancient rites of barbaric heresy. It sent a terrible signal and example.”

“No, that happened at night,” Prime Minister Cullen retorted with a touch of sarcasm,

“It should be said: with the Polaris bearing witness.”

All the courtiers in the room lowered their heads.

Gilbert sucked in a deep breath and explained to his friend, “Guy, my friend, to the best of my knowledge, the duel was demanded unfairly by the other party. Prince Thales, driven by his kindness, agreed to the duel to avoid a worse situation, even though it wasn’t his first choice, even though he was putting himself in harm's way.”14

Guy nodded in understanding, "Of course, I can see His Highness’ dilemma, and I appreciate the compassion and bravery he showed in this matter.”

“But you know what's going to happen, right?” Duke Cullen chimed with a disapproving shake of his head. “Once this story goes around the Kingdom, when people bring in the banquet, what’s going to pop into their heads first? The Prince’s kindness and generosity, or Star Lake’s violent duel?”

Gilbert wrinkled his face.

The Vicar General joined in with a smile, “His Grace Duke Cullen does have a point, and it echoes the concerns voiced by the bishops in our Church. Up in the Northland, the Eckstedtian warriors have indeed instilled in His Highness a steadfast spirit in battle. However, sadly, they've also numbed him to violence and brutality, making him less resistant to these barbaric ancient customs.”

Gilbert looked at his friend with clear disappointment, unable to hide his feelings.

Yet the King remained steadfast and unmoved.

“In the long run,” Vicar General continued, “Prince Thales, as the Kingdom’s heir, repeatedly embraces these heretical beliefs and customs... This will significantly affect how people approach life, inflaming the passions of the youth, tempting the desperate into risky actions, and inspiring others to follow suit. This will greatly harm the established rule of the Kingdom... And what’s more, if the faithful see bloodshed in the name of these brutal duels, it won’t please the Goddess, and her followers will share that discontent.”15

Guy’s tone conveyed growing concern.

Lord Krapen, watching everyone’s reactions, enthusiastically joined the conversation, “Well, I also feel that...”

“That’s enough!”

The Foreign Affairs Minister’s rare outburst silenced the clamour in the room. “Gentlemen!”

“His Majesty didn’t gather us here to pass judgements or assign blame!”

Gilbert’s breath quickened as he stood up, frustration plain on his face as he looked at each colleague.

“Solder, I understand that the campaign to the Western Desert with the regular army didn't go as planned, and it's been weighing on your mind.”16 The Military Advisor pursed his lips.

“Lord Kirkirk, I also get it that the unexpected incident at the banquet resulted in a significant loss of fines for the Finances, catching you unprepared.”

The Chief of Finance folded his arms, visibly displeased.

“And Prime Minister, it seems you’re doing your best to avoid unnecessary conflicts between the Renaissance Palace and the vassals, so you’ve made His Highness the target of your deflection.” The plump old Duke chuckled without a care.

“Viscount Kenney, please rest assured, whether His Highness remains popular or looks for talents, it won’t affect your strong position in the Royalist party.”17

The Minister of Trade wore a somewhat displeased expression upon hearing this.

“As for you, Guy, my old friend,” he assured, “1 swear to you, your failure to become the Prince’s theology instructor is by no means His Highness’s fault, nor does it suggest he’s growing closer to the Temple faction.”

The Vicar General closed his eyes and lowered his head in response.

“And you. Lord Krapen, your day-long silence was rather wise. Joining the fray at the end won’t make you seem any wiser!”18

The Minister of Agriculture cleared his throat awkwardly.

After effectively silencing each of his fellow courtiers, Gilbert took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. He resisted the urge to glance at the figure seated at the head of the long table.

“Yes, I can sense it; I know it. I understand that each of you has your own reasons, your own thoughts, and harbours such grievances...”

The Foreign Affairs Minister spoke solemnly,

"But. my dear colleagues, I implore you to put yourselves in the Prince's shoes to empathise with his situation.”

“That way, you’ll realise that, for the sake of the Kingdom, Prince Thales often had no choice but to tackle numerous challenges and make tough decisions.”

“And he has fulfilled his duties to the utmost, those tasks that were meant for him to complete.” Gilbert’s pace slowed, and he unknowingly infused his words with a touch of lament.

“From the National Conference to Dragon Clouds City, from the Great Desert to the Mindis Hall, in the face of the watchful Northern archdukes and the complex web of domestic politics, none of us, not even His Majesty, not even the late Prince Midier, could have outperformed him!”19 His voice rose passionately, resonating throughout the Ballard Room.

“And let's not forget, we all owe him a debt—whether it’s halting the Northerners from advancing south or stabilising the Jadestar Royal Family and Constellation’s political situation.” On the throne, King Kessel leaned back, his gaze distant as he lost himself in thought.

“Now, regarding the unexpected consequences of Thales’ actions, whether it’s the chaos in the Western Desert or Doyle’s case, be it the duel, the controversies, or even this cursed letter and the troubles it brought, let’s face the truth. It’s all due to our lack of foresight and our incompetence. It’s our failure, and we, the courtiers and servants, should shoulder that responsibility ourselves.” Gilbert exhaled deeply, took a pause, and looked at each and every person in the room.

All of them turned away, avoiding direct eye contact.

At this point, Gilbert continued with a heavy heart, “Blaming His Highness? Doing so won't hide our incompetence, nor will it solve more problems. That young man should not be held accountable for mistakes he didn’t even know about.”

But right at that moment, Duke Cullen suddenly spoke up, “Even if he’s a Jadestar?”

Gilbert’s expression shifted, and he turned sharply without a hint of faltering. “Precisely because he’s a Jadestar!”

Prime Minister Cullen frowned.

After a short pause, the Prime Minister sighed and said, “I understand. Count Caso, you are his teacher...”

But Gilbert quickly cut in, “I’m saying this not just because he is my student!”

Turning to face the other courtiers, Gilbert’s tone was resolute and beyond question, "It’s because of Prince Thales himself.”20

“Whether it’s his courageous deeds in the North, his journey back from afar, or his bold actions and resourcefulness at the banquet, they all prove he’s worthy of being the Duke of Star Lake, the Jadestar heir, and a rightful heir to this Kingdom’s bloodline.”

At this point, Gilbert’s voice quivered slightly, “With a Prince like him, we should all feel honoured and proud.”

“We should be the sword in his hand, not a thorn in his side.”

“We should assist him!”

“Not hinder him!”

With those words, Gilbert raised a hand to shield his eyes, taking a series of deep breaths.

The Imperial Conference sat in silence, the King’s gaze remaining as sharp as a blade in the snow, radiating a cold intensity.

Vicar General Guy sighed and gave Gilbert’s arm a reassuring pat, gesturing for him to sit down.

“Gilbert.”

Gilbert brushed aside his friend’s arm, took a deep breath, and said, "Please forgive me, everyone.” He worked to steady his emotions, striving to keep his tone calm, “As His Majesty mentioned, I, too, have grown tired and old.”

A profound silence settled over the Ballard Room.

“At least you are not fat.”

Prime Minister Cullen took the lead, sounding somewhat weary and nostalgic, “You won’t block a certain someone’s view.”

This remark carried significant undertones, and no one dared to respond.

The heavy atmosphere persisted until the King of Constellation lightly tapped his fingers, breaking the silence.

“Gilbert,” King Kessel the Fifth’s gaze bore directly into him, the complexity of his emotions thinly veiled as he said, “my old friend.”

But Gilbert suddenly lifted his head.

“And you, Your Majesty!”

The Foreign Affairs Minister’s voice unexpectedly rose, startling many in the room.

Gilbert held the King's intense gaze, his chest rising and falling.

“Forgive my impertinence, but...”

“But...”

Gilbert raised his right arm as if he were about to point at something but abandoned the gesture halfway.

He clenched his teeth, and his face was conflicted.

“But up until today, within the Kingdom of Constellation, within the Eternal Star City, and even at this very table, all the unjust scrutiny, accusations, criticism, and difficulties that Prince Thales has faced since his return...”

Confronting King Kessel’s sharp gaze, Gilbert gathered his resolve and pronounced each word clearly, “It’s all because of how you’ve treated him.”

Upon hearing these words, the assembled courtiers visibly paled!

“Gilbert!”

Vicar General Guy warned sternly.

Prime Minister Cullen wore a tense expression as he sank into deep thought.

But King Kessel remained silent, merely gazing at Gilbert with an inscrutable look.

Gilbert cleared his throat, closed his eyes for a moment, and then sighed.

“To be completely honest, Your Majesty, both as a subject and even as a father, I don’t consider myself particularly capable, and I certainly lack the qualification to reprimand you.”

"But as a friend,” Gilbert opened his eyes, his tone sincere and serious, "Kei, Your Highness, the

Fifth Prince.

These titles resonated deeply with everyone present.

King Kessel stayed silent.

However, in that very moment, his fingers, which had been lightly tapping the tabletop, came to a halt.

“You should truly take pride and find solace in having such a son—for his insight and abilities, for his character and intelligence, for his resilience and optimism, and above all, for not crumbling under the weight of the entire Kingdom.”

Gilbert gazed at him from a distance.

“I believe, and I’m not alone in this belief, that Prince Thales is the future we all wholeheartedly anticipate.”

In this moment, not a single person in the Imperial Conference uttered a word.

The silence hung in the air for a full ten seconds.

“You’re his everyday teacher, Gilbert,” the King’s deep voice came, his emotions veiled, “you’re too close to him.”

Gilbert hesitated briefly, then responded with a smile.

“No, Your Majesty, it’s you who are too distant.”

“Just like the late King.”

In that moment, the Iron Fist King’s eyes twitched, as if the once-impenetrable iron wall had its first crack.

“But back then, you had Mindis Hall.”

Gilbert gazed at the throne, but it seemed like he was looking beyond it.

“But he now? He has nothing.”

King Kessel remained fixed in his chair, not even shifting his gaze.

“Get closer to him, Your Majesty, or at least make an effort to do so.”

“At the very least, have a conversation with him.”

Gilbert took a deep breath, then settled down, his hands trembling. He rubbed his eyes and offered a rueful smile to those around him.

“My apologies, everyone.”

Ballard’s chamber felt as though it had sunk into an icy abyss.

The assembly of nobles and ministers stood in solemn silence, some bowing their heads in wordless reflection while others exchanged furtive glances.

The only sound that persisted was the gentle rhythm of their breathing.

After what seemed like an eternity,

“Esteemed courtiers.”

A collective shiver ran through the gathering.

King Kessel’s voice cut through the oppressive atmosphere like the first warm rays of sunlight piercing through winter’s frost.

“You don’t have to concern yourselves, gentlemen. I have already talked to my son.”

At the far end of the long table, the Iron Hand King slowly lifted his head, though it did not land on anyone in particular.

“He won’t be causing any trouble.”

With closed eyes, he let out a soft sigh,

“Everything is under control.”

As the words fell, Prime Minister Cullen arched his lips faintly in a wry smile.

Gilbert managed a strained smile.

The reactions varied among the others, but a sense of foreboding lingered in their hearts. Duke Cullen delicately raised his teacup, straightened his posture, and resumed his duty, “Well, colleagues. Now, back to what we were...”

But the Prime Minister’s words came to an abrupt halt.21

Puzzled gazes turned to him, and they noticed the change in Cullen’s expression.

At that moment, the Duke of the Eastern Sea fixed a firm gaze on his teacup.

There, faint ripples danced on the surface.

Almost simultaneously, the courtiers in Ballard Room sensed something amiss and turned as one. Footsteps—steady and numerous—echoed from outside, causing a palpable stir.

This was an unusual situation, and the courtiers in front of the throne exchanged puzzled looks, their uncertainty mounting.

“Footsteps? I can hear at least thirty sets of them,” Solder, the seasoned military advisor, perked up as he heard the approaching commotion. “What’s going on?”

But there was silence inside the room in response.

Instead, muffled commands filtered through the door crack, faintly audible from the other side, “Vanguards, gather for reinforcements... Run, run, run, get moving!” “Situation unclear...”

“Defence Division, fortify the area...”

The courtiers in the room felt a growing sense of unease.

Even the King furrowed his brow.

“That’s odd,” Gilbert mused, his own brow creasing. “Did the Royal Guards have any drills scheduled for today? Near the Ballard Room?”

Suddenly, a shrill and urgent ring cut through the walls, piercing loudly in everyone’s ears!

The abrupt chime sent people jumping in surprise, their eyes darting around in panic.

“This... this is the Royal Guards’...”

Advisor Solder’s words trailed off as he stood in bewilderment.

He blinked, staring at the imposing stone door, struggling to believe his own deduction. “Emergency alarm?”

The King remained composed, though his brow furrowed even deeper.

The scar-faced intelligence officer was the first to react, reaching out for the door.

But before his hand could touch the handle, the grand doors of the Ballard Room were violently thrown open!