Chapter 86
Chapter 86
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 86
Chapter Title: 28. Nobles, Princes, King, and Empire (3)
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The sudden appearance of the army threw the capital into chaos.
To the citizens who had only ever seen the neatly uniformed capital guards, the army camped outside the walls seemed utterly menacing.
Caked in dust from their long journey, they may have looked ragged, but their fierce gazes and unyielding auras were intimidating.
The citizens shrank back from that sharp, predatory edge so fundamentally different from the capital guards.
One bold citizen asked the capital guards about the army's identity, and word soon spread that they were the northern lords and their soldiers.
But the citizens' unease lingered.
"Why aren't they coming in? What's the holdup?"
"You think they've got some sinister intentions?"
The citizens whispered anxiously, eyes fixed on the wide-open gates.
A merchant lingering in the capital ventured a cautious guess.
"Keep this between us. Word is slipping out that the royals abandoned the north during the last war. Maybe that's why they're camped out here—some kind of protest..."
"Oh, come on. You and your fancy meals spouting nonsense again."
A citizen scoffed at the merchant's words.
"His Highness the 2nd Prince, who fought in the northern war, only returned the other day. What rubbish. Hmph! Watch your mouth, or you'll get us in trouble."
"No, just hear me out. When Winter Castle fell and the north was turned to ruins, the royals... Huh?"
The merchant froze mid-rant. The capital guards had surrounded them without a sound.
"Spreading falsehoods and fabrications to disturb the kingdom's peace—clearly with malicious intent."
"No! That's not it! Mercy! I misspoke!"
The merchant prostrated himself, regretting his loose tongue, but the guards showed no mercy. He was bound and dragged away.
Similar scenes were unfolding all over the capital.
"The capital's citizens are deeply anxious. They fear the northern army outside harbors ill intentions. With guards arresting citizens left and right, their fears are only growing."
Hearing his subordinate's report, 2nd Prince Maximilian shot to his feet.
"I must see His Majesty."
With that, Maximilian hurried from his palace.
As he left the 2nd Prince's Palace and headed to his father's office, the palace grounds buzzed with rare disorder. News from outside the walls had spread everywhere.
Maximilian quickened his pace.
A familiar middle-aged man appeared in the distance.
"Marquis Billefeld."
Recognizing him, the marquis bowed his head.
"Your Highness..."
"On your way from His Majesty, I take it."
Maximilian eyed the marquis. His expression was grim—clearly, things hadn't gone well.
"I'll speak to His Majesty myself, so put your mind at ease and return."
"Then this old man will trust in Your Highness and withdraw."
Even as he spoke, the marquis showed little hope.
Maximilian glanced at him once more before heading straight to the king's office.
"Halt."
At his command, the palace knight guarding the door knocked lightly and announced the 2nd Prince's arrival.
"Enter."
"After you."
Beyond the door the knight flung open stood the king.
His face looked deeply displeased. But that lasted only a moment—upon seeing his favored second son, the king's expression softened.
"Your Majesty..."
"Come here. No need for such formality before your father."
Straightening from his light kneel, Maximilian met his father's gaze.
"Have you eaten? If not, join me. I'm famished myself."
The king's gentle tone only hardened Maximilian's face.
"Your Majesty."
"Speak."
"Your Majesty, it's time to welcome my brother and the northern lords into the city."
Frost instantly blanketed the king's once-springlike warmth.
"It's not that I won't let them in—they won't come."
Maximilian sighed at the icy tone matching his father's glare.
"Greet them as a victorious army, and they'll enter the capital gladly."
"Too much fuss, all of it."
The king scowled.
"Did they fight alone? The royals stood with them, and the central lords were there too. We can't hold a triumph just for them."
Maximilian sighed inwardly once more.
It was nonsense.
His father knew it too.
Yet the king kept listing reasons he couldn't comply.
"Your Majesty, if we don't welcome them grandly, who else will stake their lives for the kingdom like straw without hesitation?"
"Born nobles of the realm, it's their duty to defend their lands and the kingdom. Anyone in their place would have done the same."
In the past, he'd believed that wholeheartedly.
To his former self, those born noble fulfilling their duties was only natural.
There were corrupt nobles, but they were the minority. He'd thought the kingdom's leaders were true nobles of honor and devotion.
But he was wrong.
Only after leaving the palace did reality come into focus.
He'd witnessed the northern lords' disgrace, egged on by the empire, letting Winter Castle fall. He'd seen central lords abandon the lines and flee with his own eyes.
There were far more greedy pigs than noble nobles.
The kingdom was rotten to the core.
Only his father remained blind to it.
Maximilian gave a bitter smile.
His father's stance mirrored his own past self. Had he not ventured beyond the palace walls and seen the kingdom's truth, he'd still be siding with his father, condemning the north's unnoble behavior.
But now, it filled him with an uncomfortable queasiness he could barely stomach.
"If the northern lords had reinforced Winter Castle in time, none of this would have happened. Their sacrifices were self-inflicted, and their demands are foolish—claiming all the credit while ignoring their faults."
Watching his father's lamenting face made bile rise in his throat. Unable to bear the sight, Maximilian turned away.
Even then, the king continued criticizing the northern lords.
"The northern lords have always shunned ostentation and lived austerely—that's why such demands are unbecoming of northerners. This must be some villain's scheme. I've long known their vanity and moral blindness, but..."
At some point, the arrows of blame naturally turned toward the 1st Prince.
"His vanity makes the capital's citizens tremble and burdens the soldiers—all while ignoring the northern troops' long march and need for rest. That fool's petty pride..."
"Your Majesty."
Unable to listen further, Maximilian finally spoke.
"This is no time to rebuke their lack of nobility. We must understand and embrace the devastation war has wrought on their hearts and lands."
The king's face hardened as his son, whom he'd expected to agree, openly opposed him.
"They're not demanding vast rewards or anything else—just a triumph. It's not hard to grant, nor does it cost us dearly. Just a triumph."
Regardless, Maximilian pressed on.
"A single march down the capital's main avenue—half a day at most."
As a son, seeing his father's pained expression hurt, but someone had to convince him.
Besides, his brother had vowed to leave if not welcomed as victors. The man who'd butchered the twelve northern lords despite being battered would follow through.
If it came to that, the rift between north and crown from the war would never heal.
"Your Majesty, one word is enough. Open the gates and welcome them—that suffices. I'll handle the rest."
Maximilian pleaded again and again.
"You..."
His father's face twisted with indescribable emotion.
"Your Majesty, please—one word to show you understand their hearts."
After staring silently for a long moment, the king turned away.
"Go."
"Your Majesty."
"Your request will be granted."
The king relented on the triumph. But it was for his cherished second son, not the north's plea.
Maximilian, knowing that difference better than anyone, worried deeply about what would follow their entry.
The disowned eldest was no longer a palace outcast his father could lock away with words.
Privately, he was the war hero who'd ended the northern crisis; publicly, the real power backed by seventeen lords north of the Raintes River.
His presence was no trifling matter for the king to handle with mere royal dignity.
He could only hope his father realized it soon.
His brother wouldn't hold back as before.
"They'll be deeply moved by Your Majesty's wisdom."
Hiding his turmoil behind flattery, Maximilian left the office and sought the palace steward and capital guard captain.
"Prepare the triumph."
Their shadowed faces brightened amid the chaos.
Turning unease to cheers was simple enough.
Just sharing the north's trials sufficed.
Citizens who'd barricaded themselves in fear flung open doors, desperate for a glimpse of the heroes.
With eager faces, they watched the gates. But the cheers died unspoken on their lips.
The capital guards led as escorts, impeccably uniformed as always. Behind them marched the northern army.
"Gasp!"
"Eek!"
Screams erupted from the crowds lining the avenue. Even the guards controlling them gasped in shock.
The northern troops passed by.
Seventeen banners symbolizing northern houses—each one drawing screams.
They weren't banners.
No cloth emblazoned with crests, but severed heads impaled on poles—hardly flags.
A massive dark green head with tongue lolling, crimson eyes bulging even in death.
Those who met its gaze fainted, eyes rolling back.
The capital's main avenue descended into pandemonium. Guards desperately tried to calm the crowd.
Watching from afar, Maximilian clutched his head.
"He said he'd keep it safe at Winter Castle..."
The head on the Black Spear Cavalry's "banner" belonged to the Warlord, monster king that ravaged the north.
Small wonder the citizens, who'd never seen a monster, panicked.
Maximilian sighed.
He couldn't fathom why his brother shunned cheers and flowers for screams.
He rarely understood his brother, but as always, he'd learn the reason soon enough.
Or so he thought—until then.
Swoosh.
Finally reaching the palace gates, his brother tilted the Warlord's head toward the greeting nobles.
"Hiiik!"
"Urk!"
Terrified nobles fell on their rears. Seeing his brother's smirk, Maximilian wondered if the grand gesture was just to troll the nobles or flaunt spoils.
Swish, whoosh.
Twirling the pole, he seemed ready to swing it until they fainted.
"Brother."
Maximilian stepped forward, face grim.
"Maximilian."
"You've had a long journey."
"I said it wouldn't take long."
His brother's usual arrogant confidence drew an unwitting smile from Maximilian.
"Welcome back, brother."
The 1st Prince grinned at his brother's welcome and lifted his chin.
High on the palace wall's window stood the king, face rigid.
His brother met that cold stare and curled his lips into a sneer.