Chapter 538: Act 286 – The Chaos Within
Nemeses and her knights were on high alert, yet no one in the hall seemed to notice. Princess Erluin had approached Countess Dierphir, giving her a slight smile. Dierphir frowned slightly at the sight of the most beautiful princess in all of Erluin but nodded gently, though the hint of unnoticeable loneliness in her eyes went unnoticed. It was clear that Princess Grifian and Dierphir were acquainted, sparking a small whisper among those present—Yuan Fortress, like the Corvado royal family, was from an ancient lineage, with a history that had persisted since the kingdom’s inception; it was not surprising for its members to be familiar with the royal heirs.
Rumors had mentioned that the royal family maintained a mysterious connection with certain ancient noble families, and this was finally being substantiated. The princess’s actions immediately drew the attention of several powerful figures present, only Marquis Julian stood to the side, smiling as he raised a goblet filled with a blood-red liquid and softly said, “Viruy satt (Elvish: The good show is just beginning) —” But at that moment, noise from outside the estate finally reached his ears; having initially stood by the window after greeting Brendel, he was the first to notice the disturbances outside. He turned back just in time to witness the movements of the royal knights, his expression changing dramatically.
Grifian then turned her gaze towards Brendel. “It seems that Yuan Fortress’s former glory can come another step closer; I truly envy your fortune. By the way, Dierphir, is this your knight? I don’t recall seeing him last time?” Her silver eyes held a hint of envy and regret, but her voice remained calm, filled with genuine blessings.
Everyone present understood why the princess would say such a thing.
A twenty-year-old who had stepped into the golden realm, even seen as a force of elemental enlightenment, was not out of the question since such a genius would undoubtedly reach that level eventually. Elemental-level strongholds could shift the balance of power in any nation. The Corvado royal family originally wielded an upper hand over many lords under its dynasty’s rule, but following the split of North and South, Grifian was all too aware that her own power might not surpass that of the dukes. In fact, if it weren’t for Count Buche’s joining, her situation would be even more dire.
But Buche certainly did not serve the royal family; Princess Erluin understood this truth better than anyone. She looked at Brendel, unable to suppress a mix of heartbreak and jealousy. Why did fate seem unwilling to favor the Corvado royal family, even during this precarious time for the dynasty? Clearly, for this country and her brother’s future, she would sacrifice everything, including her life and body. Could heaven really look down on such determination?
Dierphir’s expression darkened as she nodded. “Because last time, Father hadn’t yet decided whether to arrange a knight for me, so you didn’t see him, Sister.”
Brendel couldn’t help but glance at the Countess, surprised that she could lie without changing her expression.
“I see,” Grifian said, as if sensing something. She raised her head, suddenly narrowing her eyes at Brendel. “I don’t know why, but even though I’ve never seen you before, you seem really familiar… it’s quite odd.”
Brendel immediately felt two sharp gazes fixated on him, his body tensing slightly. Following the eyes, he spotted Makarolo and Livwz, two canny old foxes who had evidently recognized him. However, Brendel was not anxious; instead, he felt relaxed. He hadn’t made an effort with his appearance today specifically to create an opportunity for himself to meet the princess.
Brendel knew that neither the Siphai royal family nor the Corvado royal family would give up on the whereabouts of the Lionheart Sword. When he had triggered a reaction from the artifact, both Livwz and Makarolo had been present. He believed that with Livwz’s knowledge, he would quickly deduce that the disturbance he had caused was related to the Lionheart Sword. In fact, the arrival of Erluin’s embassy at the Green Tower suggested that King Obergo VII might have already taken note of that. As his most beloved daughter, Brendel didn’t believe Grifian would be completely ignorant of the matter.
Now, the key players were right before them; he trusted that the royal party would take action.
However, Brendel had yet to realize that the Lionheart Sword had already surfaced, currently in Freya’s hands. Otherwise, he would not have thought to propose such a notion. The royal party had sealed the news very well, and given that few recognized the Lionheart Sword, Freya’s prominence at the Knights’ Conference had drawn attention to her rather than the sword she held. All of these reasons led to Brendel’s misunderstanding today.
Regarding the princess’s question, Brendel intended to stay silent. He was currently acting as Dierphir’s vassal, and although the princess’s inquiry was directed at him, he felt he had no right to speak here. He shifted his gaze to Dierphir, who indeed seemed a bit troubled as she replied, “Your Highness…”
Grifian smiled. “Dierphir, are you worried I might steal your corner of the wall?”
“Of course not,” the Countess thought to herself, but in reality, it wasn’t so simple. The world lacked knowledge of the deep connections between the Corvado royal family and Yuan Fortress, which was one of the royal family’s biggest secrets. She had known Grifian from a young age and understood her rivalrous nature. If Brendel were indeed her subordinate, she couldn’t completely trust this ‘sister.’ Nonetheless, she was aware that Brendel had no true connection to her and merely gave a perfunctory response.
At that moment, a tall figure parted the crowd and approached the princess. Brendel recognized him as a middle-aged man dressed in a black suit, with a slightly elongated face and sharp eyes. His presence indicated he held a high status, but Brendel found him strangely familiar and couldn’t help but glance at him again. His attention caught the man’s eye, and Overwell turned, slightly stunned—though Brendel failed to recognize him, he identified Brendel; he was Sir Overwell, with whom Brendel had crossed paths in Ridenburg. He had once praised Brendel’s talent before Grifian, but seeing him again here left him momentarily taken aback.
“What on earth is he doing here?” The astute noble buried his frown, primarily concerned about Brendel’s identity as a highland knight.
“Lord Overwell, what has happened?” the princess noticed the change in Overwell’s expression and couldn’t help but inquire.
Sir Overwell cast a deep glance at Brendel—wolves always remembered their prey—his gaze caused Brendel to furrow his brow. He could not recall where he had met this man, but it was evident that he recognized him. However, before he could confirm, Overwell had turned back—Brendel only saw him exchange a look with the princess.
“Something has happened outside; I ask that everyone step aside.” Overwell’s voice was not loud but unexpectedly overshadowed the murmurs in the hall, causing silence to fall.
“What is it?” Grifian’s lovely brows knitted together; being the territory of the Temple, anything amiss would not be trivial.
“Heretics have appeared outside,” Overwell replied.
Heretics?
The entire hall erupted like it had been ignited—the Temple of Fire was not exclusionary; aside from the five great temples that did not interfere with each other, smaller sects or mysterious cults were generally permitted to circulate among various nations, but the heretics spoken of by the five great temples typically meant the followers of the Dusk or the Dark Dragon. Regardless of how such cultists could infiltrate the very heart of the Temple’s domain, rumors suggested that heretics were often cruel, evil, and mad individuals, and the present nobles were, of course, mostly unwilling to accompany these lunatics to their doom, leading to screams from some noblewomen.
Not to mention the ordinary nobles, even Grifian and Brendel couldn’t help but be taken aback. Princess Erluin was shocked that cultists could make it into the venue, but Brendel was more astonished because this had never happened in recorded history. In comparison, the latter’s shock was even greater.
“What exactly is going on?” Grifian observed that the temple’s monks had already begun maintaining order in the scene, several positioned at the center of the venue; from there, even attempting to see outside the estate would reveal nothing. She clearly understood this and directly inquired.
However, the once astute lone wolf shook his head.
Not to mention him; in fact, even Nemeses, who had discovered the heretics first, was currently clueless about what was happening. Initially, she had inferred from Freya’s information that Brendel and the others must harbor ill intentions towards the princess, swiftly ordering her knights to prepare to protect the royal party within the hall. But before she could finish issuing her commands, once the knights drew their swords, the entire estate erupted into chaos.
The heretics had seemingly emerged out of nowhere, previously disguised as various characters—some were noble attendants, and some were even guards of the estate. Upon seeing the knights under the princess draw their swords, they instantly followed suit. As if premeditated, one group advanced to attack the royal knights while another surged directly into the estate. The monks responsible for the estate’s protection were utterly unprepared, leading to severe casualties in a single exchange.
As this scene unfolded, everyone was stunned. Only Nemeses determined that Brendel and his party had their plot exposed, thus resorting to desperate measures—she was a competent soldier, and at that moment displayed no trace of panic. With a swift draw of her longsword, she issued commands to those around her: “Do not engage with these fellows; their target is the nobles within the hall. All knights, follow my lead and clear a path—”
With that, she thrust her sword into the heart of a cultist charging at her and swiftly withdrew it, her blade showing not a trace of blood. Her movements were so quick that even those beside her barely had time to catch sight of them.
Given the presence of numerous noble guards, they were initially astonished by the shocking scene before them. Hearing such a calm yet firm order now allowed a few to snap back to reality, and they quickly drew their weapons and joined the fray. It was not simply the case of Nemeses wielding the royal authority to command these guards; rather, being part of the Erluin conference, the nobles present had notable backgrounds, and even injuring one would be a cost their subordinates could hardly afford.
Though the heretics were ultimately a minority, as more noble guards joined the fight, the temporary defensive line they had built began to open up several lengthy gaps. However, the noble guards were far from rejoicing; the merciless reputation of these cultists often meant that they would retaliate fiercely at the last moment, with not one fleeing their position. The thought that such ruthless individuals had also breached the estate created a grave tension among everyone present.
Due to the Temple’s strong stance, the nobles were ordered to leave most of the guards outside the estate, and with the unexpected incident now occurring, all present could not help but loudly curse the Temple of Fire’s reckless actions.
Nemeses was no exception; her brows were tightly furrowed. Even though the princess had Livwz by her side, a wizard was always inferior to a warrior in close combat, especially as the young man before them was of golden caliber and possibly even possessed elemental enlightenment. With the need to stay close to the princess, Master Livwz would likely be unable to intervene in time. She placed her hand on her longsword, her knuckles turning white, as she awaited the royal knights to break through towards the cultists, ready to rush into the estate.
The black-haired lady knight couldn’t help but anxiously glance around; at that moment, she noticed Freya standing nearby in a daze. “Freya!” Nemeses seemed to have found an outlet for her frustration; she was among the few in the royal party aware of the girl from Buche’s true background. The ‘Staff of Fire,’ Everton, was one of the true prides of the royal faction. Truly, there would be no royal party today without Everton, and for this sole blood relative of Everton, Nemeses’ feelings were quite complex.
Freya did not always meet her expectations; though she admired her effort, being hesitant and indecisive was not qualities befitting a leader. How could someone like that uphold the honor of the ‘Staff of Fire’? Not to mention that dream…
Nemeses shook her head, casting aside her jumbled thoughts brought on by anxiety. She looked sternly at Freya, who seemed to finally come to her senses.
“Daydreaming on the battlefield, and you’d be dead ten thousand times over.” Her tone involuntarily grew a bit colder.
“I’m sorry, Senior Nemeses,” Freya exclaimed, startled, quickly responding, “I was distracted by other matters…”
“Your explanation better convince me,” Nemeses retorted.
“The guards of Duke Anlek,” Freya frowned as she looked at the carriage, speaking softly, “Senior Nemeses, while they are attacking… their positions around the carriage clearly reflect a tendency more aligned with defense—a principle taught in our tactical lessons, foundational knowledge from Erluin’s infantry manuals. The guards under Duke Anlek should be soldiers; they wouldn’t be unaware of this, right?”
A sparkle flickered in Nemeses’ eyes; she picked up on the implications in Freya’s words and quickly grasped what was being said. It was impossible for so many heretics to have appeared within the Temple’s controlled area, especially with them infiltrating the guards; this must have involved some grand transaction with a powerful entity hiding behind the scenes—noble guards were not so easily replaced, and the situation reeked of a deep conspiracy.
“Be wary of them,” Nemeses coldly replied. Internally, however, she was frowning despite her silence—Princess Erluin was in negotiation with Duke Anlek at this moment, and what did the latter’s move signify? Was it a frame-up?
Thinking of this, she remained silent, unaware that beside her, Freya had let out a significant breath of relief. The girl from Buche felt joyous, believing that Brendel would indeed not bring harm to the princess.
……(To be continued. If you enjoyed this work, please visit Qidian (qidian.com) to vote with recommendations or monthly tickets; your support is my greatest motivation.)
