Chapter 171
Chapter 171
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 171
Chapter Title: 53. Fill the Wine Glass with Blood (3)
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The continental situation was changing rapidly.
When the Empire, the undisputed hegemon of the continent, first declared war on the Kingdom of Dottlin, everyone accepted the destruction of the small nation that had dared to defy a great power as a foregone conclusion.
The Empire's might and prestige were that overwhelming.
In fact, immediately after the declaration of war, the Empire demonstrated its formidable strength by mobilizing over twenty legions.
People had no doubt that the Empire's army would crush the border of such a tiny kingdom in an instant.
But they were wrong.
The Empire's first conquest attempt ended in failure. Not just any failure, but a catastrophic one.
The fortresses they had barely captured were all collapsed due to sabotage by the Dottlin Kingdom's forces, and even precious members of the imperial bloodline were slain.
All they gained was a handful of worthless wasteland.
It was an astonishing outcome, but nothing changed.
People paid lip service to their respect for the small kingdom's desperate resistance, but still chattered that their ultimate fate was destruction.
Once again, their predictions missed the mark spectacularly.
The 100,000-strong imperial army gathered to make up for the previous defeat was routed without even crossing the river, and the Empire's regular legions that had landed in southern Dottlin were annihilated, save for a handful of survivors.
In less than two years, the Empire's casualties exceeded 100,000.
No matter how mighty the continental superpower was, it was damage they could not ignore.
Yet even so, the Empire did not abandon its conquest of Dottlin.
Rumors spread that the third conquest army—composed of the Empire's elite knight orders and regular legions, their true military force—would advance on Dottlin by sea.
People predicted that this time, Dottlin would surely fall.
After all, the imperial regular legions under direct royal command were of far superior quality to the noble private armies that had failed in the previous two attempts.
But in the end, the third conquest never even began.
A monstrous beast appeared out of nowhere and laid waste to the Empire's south. In the process, the entire third conquest army waiting to head to Dottlin vanished into thin air.
A duke's army, driven by a sense of duty, attempted to subdue the beast but was wiped out instead. Enraged, the monster then exterminated even the southern houses that had luckily avoided the initial disaster.
And among those annihilated houses was the family of Marquis Montpellier, the Empire's ambassador.
"We can essentially consider the Montpellier family fallen from power, can't we?"
"But the marquis is still the Empire's ambassador. And behind him stands the Empire itself."
The nobles of the Leonberger Kingdom spent the entire day gossiping about the downfall of the Montpellier marquisate.
"The Empire will send a new ambassador eventually, but the question is when."
"You're behind on the news. Word is that His Merciful Imperial Majesty deeply sympathizes with the misfortune that befell the Montpelliers and has strengthened the ambassador's authority to compensate for their losses."
In the mansions of the capital, the kingdom's heart, they shamelessly praised the Empire's emperor and speculated that his plenipotentiary ambassador might effectively become a viceroy.
It was a shameless display utterly lacking the pride and awareness befitting nobles of the kingdom.
Moreover, none of them saw the Empire's crises as serious threats.
They believed that Dottlin's elusive army rampaging through the Empire's east and the horrific monster entrenched in the south would eventually kneel before the great power's might.
Thus, their attention was focused on whether Marquis Montpellier would fall and be replaced by an imperial ambassador, or if, as rumored, he would be appointed viceroy over the Leonberger Kingdom.
To maintain their current glory amid the shifting political landscape, they needed to pick the right side.
In the midst of this, the kingdom's monarch issued an unprecedented summons to all nobles, without regard for direction or distance.
No one feared an edict from the toothless king of a hollow royal house, but rumors that it concerned the throne made it impossible to ignore outright.
A royal house was still a royal house, even if it was merely nominal.
When the Empire's ambassador urged them to hasten to the capital to discuss future matters, even the reluctant nobles had no choice but to leave their castles and head for the capital.
The infirm and elderly rode in carriages, while the hale galloped on horseback.
Thus, all the kingdom's nobles converged on the capital.
"Finally, Second Prince Maximilian will ascend the throne."
"With his gentle temperament, the kingdom's future looks bright indeed."
"To be honest, His Majesty can be a bit sensitive at times, which has been disconcerting. But the second prince will surely heed our loyal counsel more attentively."
They firmly believed that the second prince, said to be the reincarnation of the founding king, would inherit the throne.
"Then what of First Prince Your Highness?"
The moment an oblivious noble mentioned the royal family's eldest son, the nobles' expressions hardened.
"He still has the credit for ending the northern war, and his ties to Marquis Montpellier are close. Above all, he's the king's firstborn."
As the man said, the first prince's name had echoed powerfully through the kingdom in recent years.
"That's old news from over a year ago."
But that was only true up until exactly a year ago.
The first prince, once a daily source of scandals, had vanished from sight for over a year.
Some nobles claimed the king had personally confined the prince for forgetting his diplomatic duties, shaming imperial knights, and souring relations between the two nations.
Others said the prince, unable to withstand his father's checks, had fully retreated to the north, his power base.
"He has merits, but the first prince's temperament is... you know."
"The first prince never let go of the past and treated us as enemies. He should have realized we're the true pillars upholding the royal house."
"Speaking of which, did we treat His Highness poorly for no reason? There were always causes. Yet he forgets his own deeds and resents us—it's truly unjust."
Once the floodgates opened, the nobles freely denounced the first prince.
As if his ascension would mean the kingdom's immediate downfall.
"Not wrong, really. If His Highness takes the throne, the kingdom might survive, but our houses won't."
Marquis Billefeldt responded nonchalantly upon hearing from Count Kirguyen about the nobles' movements.
"The nobles seem convinced that Second Prince Your Highness will inherit the throne."
"The blind always see what they want to see. Thanks to that, His Majesty fooled them without much effort—a stroke of luck for us."
A sly glint appeared on the old marquis's face.
"You seem pleased."
"Me? Do I?"
Marquis Billefeldt smiled faintly and asked back.
"And you?"
"Honestly, I'm afraid. The path His Highness walks is one of tyranny, and the blood it will spill terrifies me."
"Pretty words, but you're just worried about your precious daughter getting hurt."
Count Kirguyen's face stiffened.
"Absolutely not. This is purely the concern of a noble worrying for the kingdom's future..."
"Sure, let's say that."
The count's lips twitched at the old marquis's perfunctory reply before he let out a sigh.
"Put aside worries about your daughter or the kingdom and drink with me today."
Marquis Billefeldt raised his glass of red wine.
"For the kingdom's future."
"May the gods bless the kingdom's path ahead."
Count Kirguyen raised his glass in response.
Clink.
The glasses touched, producing a clear ring.
Dong, dong, dong, dong.
At that very moment, urgent bells rang out.
The marquis and count, who had just brought the glasses to their lips, rose simultaneously.
"Marquis Excellency!"
The marquis's knight came running a beat late and reported.
"The northern army has advanced to the very doorstep of the capital!"
On the capital's encircling walls, Siorin Kirguyen let out a groan.
Thousands of troops stood arrayed on the plains, fully armed as if ready to assault the city at any moment, surrounding it completely.
Amid the endlessly fluttering banners of northern houses, the crouched lion banner loomed large in the center.
"Good grief, he always makes such a racket—my heart can't take it."
Siorin shook his head at the pair of mounted figures under the banner.
"This is why I like His Highness! No one in the capital has that kind of spirit!"
In contrast, Marquis Billefeldt gripped his spear tightly while grinning at the thousands of troops as if he were enjoying himself.
The old marquis laughed so heartily that the tense wall guards, staring at the northern army, turned to look behind them.
"What is it? No way..."
Nearby, nobles cowed by the thousands-strong army gazed anxiously beyond the walls.
The firmly shut capital gates made it clear this was no agreed-upon matter between the prince and the royals.
Tense guards, sealed gates.
A single thought flashed through the nobles' minds.
Rebellion.
The prince had come to seize the throne by force, unwilling to let it pass to his younger brother.
That was their conclusion.
"A royal herald!"
Someone shouted then. Sure enough, a golden-armored knight was galloping down the capital's main avenue toward the gates.
Clank, clank.
The knight bearing the royal banner ascended the walls.
"His Highness the Prince has His Majesty's command to enter the capital alone!"
He bellowed for the prince to enter solo.
The prince rode up to the gates.
"Open the gates!"
At the court knight's order, the gate captain hurriedly complied.
Creak, creak.
The gates opened. The prince passed through.
Thud.
And closed again.
"His Majesty has issued another command!"
The royal herald shouted, loud enough for everyone on the walls to hear.
"All nobles and royals in the capital, proceed to the great hall! Immediately!"
His tone brooked no refusal. The nobles headed to the palace with grim faces.
"This feels off. It seems the first prince has turned traitor."
"Send couriers to Iron Lion Castle. In the worst case, escort Second Prince Your Highness and Marquis Montpellier to safety."
The nobles' errand boys scattered in all directions.
As night deepened, the once-quiet capital grew rowdy.
The great hall of Leonberger Palace.
All the kingdom's nobles who had arrived in the capital gathered.
They huddled in groups, railing against the prince's radical entrance.
"If that's true, why enter the capital alone? He's lost his mind."
"They say the first prince is a swordmaster. He must think no one can touch him."
"Foolish. Does he think the Royal Knight Order is for show?"
Having already accepted the prince's treason as fact, their words lacked any deference or respect for the royal heir.
"The rightful ruler of Leonberger Kingdom, the most noble Lionel Leonberger, King of Leonberger, his lawful bloodline, the eldest son of the Leonberger royal family, His Highness First Prince Idrian Leonberger enters! All bow your heads and show due respect!"
At the royal chamberlain's cry, the nobles simultaneously fell silent and bowed their heads.
As if making eye contact would spell disaster.
Step, step.
In the silence, only the prince's footsteps echoed.
Thud.
And halted.
The nobles raised their heads. The prince stood right before the dais with the throne.
His back was turned, so they couldn't see his expression.
Then the royal chamberlain called out again.
"The rightful ruler of Leonberger, the most noble and wise Lionel Leonberger, King of Leonberger enters! All show due respect and reverence to the kingdom's sovereign!"
Before they could collect their thoughts, the nobles knelt and bowed once more.
Clank of court knights' boots, the rustle of the king's trailing cloak.
"All, raise your heads."
The king's voice followed.
The nobles looked up.
The king sat silently on the throne atop the dais, gazing down at the hall.
The kingdom's ruler had aged dramatically in the past two years, but his eyes now gleamed with unprecedented resolve.
"I'll be direct. The reason I gathered you busy lords here today is to excise the rotten parts of the kingdom."
The nobles assumed the king meant the first prince and believed this hall would bid eternal farewell to the unruly heir and the royal house.
But no.
"And I intend to entrust the task of cutting out the kingdom's rot to the prince."
The king descended the dais himself and handed the prince his sword.
"Can you do it?"
"Just trust me."
Unable to stomach the awkward atmosphere, a grand lord stepped forward and asked the king.
"Your Majesty! Tell us what the rotten part of the kingdom is! We wish to aid His Highness the Prince as well!"
The king did not answer.
He merely looked down at the hall with a cold face.
Then the prince turned.
Only then could the nobles see his face.
The prince was smiling.
It was an exceedingly cold and savage smile.
One quick-witted noble, sensing the ominous air, began backing toward the hall doors unnoticed.
Thud.
Something cold touched his back, and he turned.
Court knights had appeared at the doors, blocking them.
"Without His Highness's permission, no one leaves this place."
Only after hearing the court knight's voice and turning did the nobles realize.
Who the rotten parts that needed excising for the kingdom's future referred to.
"Those with not a shred of shame toward heaven, stay put."
The prince drew his sword.
"My blade is blind, so I fear it might harm the loyal."
His words said one thing, but his face showed not a trace of worry.
Rather, it looked utterly delighted.
Some weaker-stomached nobles wet themselves.