Chapter 128: Act 60 – Bruglas’s Last Night (Part 2)
The heavy wooden door adorned with golden floral patterns slowly creaked open, the air began to stir, and a deep, rumbling sound penetrated the eardrums, as if an ancient kingdom was revealing itself to the visitor behind the door.
Outside the hall, the light gradually grew brighter, revealing a girl with an angry expression standing behind the door.
The Half-Elf Princess wore a silver-white princess gown, with a ruffled hem that flowed down to the smooth marble floor; she held her head high, her flowing silver curls cascading over her shoulders, her hands folded neatly on her dress, standing coldly and watching the few figures emerging slowly from the shadows.
The deep marble accentuated her beauty, like a lily blooming in darkness.
“Your Highness.” The leading Marquis Kluger appeared slightly surprised, a grim smile gracing his face. This high-ranking official, who had served the Corvado family since the Gennan era, placed his hand under his ribs and bowed deeply.
He raised his head, his lips curling in a slight upward motion, his gaunt face seemingly always carrying a hint of sardonic amusement.
“No need for courtesy, my lord,” the girl coldly replied without even glancing at the old fox, her eyes fixed ahead. “Is my father inside?”
“I’m afraid, Your Highness, the King is currently receiving the ambassador from Madara and cannot meet with you at the moment,” Kluger replied with a slight smile.
A flicker of worry crossed the brow of Erluin’s eldest princess, but it quickly returned to normal.
“Then I will wait here,” she answered, tilting her head. “It’s late; the ambassador from Madara will not stay long.”
“Please take care of yourself, Your Highness—” Kluger took a glance at the royal flower, his eyes revealing admiration, though still maintaining his false smile.
“Thank you for your concern.”
“Then I shall take my leave.”
“Please.”
The girl, with her pale silver eyes, stood motionless, indifferently watching them leave. However, as Kluger, dressed in a purple and gold minister’s robe, passed by her, the eldest princess of Erluin suddenly spoke: “Lord Kluger, be wary of playing with fire—”
Kluger was momentarily taken aback. The way the princess said this carried a serious warning. The trusted minister of King Obergo VII halted, thinking of something, a dark smile returned to his face.
“What do you mean, Your Highness?” he asked.
“I trust you know what I mean. I can’t prevent what happened in Bruglas and Kuhlburg, but don’t forget that in Erluin, the Temple of Fire stands behind whom,” the princess answered coldly.
Kluger’s expression changed slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. This old fox was indeed shrewd; he took a deep breath and responded with a forced smile: “Thank you for the reminder, Your Highness.”
Neither side seemed willing to talk further, and after a polite exchange, Kluger and his party hurried away.
A young man behind the marquis asked, “What does the marquis mean, my lord?”
“Do not underestimate this royal flower, Wilma,” Kluger replied with a grim face. “While our situation seems favorable, she is also not idle. According to information from outside the government, this princess has been gathering funds through the Havil church. Although I don’t understand what she plans to do, she’ll certainly take action.”
Kluger turned to glance at the dark night outside the arched windows of the corridor and said, “Tonight, she came to remind us. But by doing so, it indicates that our princess still has her reservations—”
“Fearing the backlash,” the young man speculated.
He sighed and wiped the ring on his gloved hand. On the dark ring’s surface lay an ouroboros coiled as if it was alive, its edges reflecting a faint bronze light.
Everyone fell silent.
The Half-Elf Princess watched the departing figures of Kluger’s party, not uttering a word. When she turned back, she noticed Sir Benning, dressed in a light golden robe, emerging from the shadows behind a column in the hall.
“How did it go?” The girl immediately asked as he approached.
With a distressed expression, the young man shook his head, “I couldn’t meet with His Majesty, Your Highness.”
The girl’s face fell into a calm demeanor.
“Your Highness?” he prompted.
“Tonight, I will return to my territory for a visit. Bring Hazell with you, and accompany me.” The girl fixed her gaze ahead and answered coolly, “Be cautious and don’t attract their attention.”
“Your Highness, can’t we think of another way?” Benning asked, his face filled with concern. He was the youngest son of Duke Seifer, of high status, but since seeing Princess Grifian a year ago, he had been captivated by her charm and willingly served her.
In theory, Benning had already overstayed his time in the royal capital, much to his father’s annoyance, yet he lingered here. It was well-known to those around that the one capturing this young man’s heart was none other than the eldest princess of the Erluin royal family.
Princess Grifian had recently turned sixteen, the age for royal marriage discussions. However, King Obergo VII doted on her, preferring her companionship over others for another two years—especially since he understood that his younger son Hazell was naturally timid and indeed required his sister’s support.
For Benning, this was a favorable situation, as he realized there was no prospect for him with the princess; the longer she remained with Obergo, the longer he could stay in her presence.
Of course, he felt some self-pity; if he were the eldest son instead of the youngest, the situation might be different.
However, the princess’s words made his heart race: if she intended to return to her territory, it could signal a significant turning point. Historically, royal family members rarely returned to their territories, but whenever they did, momentous events followed.
Benning looked at the princess, both excited and apprehensive about the unknown future, feeling uncertain. He believed their departure might stir more than just a storm in Erluin.
In the dim candlelight, the determined gaze of the sixteen-year-old princess contrasted with the hesitant expression of the young man, creating an atmosphere of silence in the hall.
“What are you worried about, Benning?” she inquired.
“I have some concerns. His Majesty…” He struggled to articulate his thoughts.
In fact, ever since last June, precisely when the ambassador from Madara arrived, aside from Chancellor Kluger, none of Obergo VII’s former trusted ministers had been seen by him. Even his daughter and son were under enforced house arrest, their movements limited to the royal capital.
Rumors of Obergo VII being under house arrest spread, yet it did not provoke any reactions among the nobles. Since appointing Kluger as chancellor, Obergo’s trust in him had increased, and Kluger’s faction’s dominance in both the court and public eye was a widely known fact.
However, this faction had no contact with local officials, a point which earned Obergo’s trust. Thus, the royal party kept hands-off while Kluger proved faultless in governance and strategy, being hailed as the greatest politician since the Anson XI era of the Corvado dynasty.
Some even compared him to renowned chancellors and the Archbishop of the Havil church during Anson XI’s time.
Yet, circumstances took a sharp turn after April of this year, as Kluger seemed intent on seizing power, and with the Black Rose War raging, the political situation in Erluin appeared increasingly turbulent.
Although suspicion and anxiety spread among the noble elite, the core figures of the royal faction, Overwell and Everton, were on their way to finalize handovers with Madara, leaving the most authoritative among the three remaining figures, the current Archbishop Gregas of the Havil church, secluded in his quarters.
Thus, the capital’s condition appeared even more obscure.
Yet, at this moment, the eldest princess of Erluin proposed to return to her territory. Regardless of whether they could escape this prison-like capital, could she truly abandon her father?
The well-known bond between Princess Grifian and her father was recognized by all. Benning, as the princess’s close attendant, was acutely aware of this.
Yet, the Half-Elf maiden replied calmly, “Given my father’s character, he would not agree to such an absurd deal with Madara. Although I’m still unclear about Kluger’s intentions, one thing is certain: we are of no use here.”
“First, I must ensure my brother’s safety; that is one of my responsibilities. I must act first, prioritizing the royal family’s interests—should anything happen to my father, I believe he will understand.”
“Your Highness…” The young man stared blankly at the Half-Elf maiden, who was a head shorter than him, seeming less like a sixteen-year-old and more like a mature, able politician.
Grifian glanced back at him, “Rest assured, Benning, I am not without preparations. Utilizing the connections of my mentor, we can also make our moves—don’t forget, I have never trusted Kluger; they wouldn’t dare to jeopardize my father’s position.”
As the princess spoke, she suddenly stopped, having just seen the grim-faced envoy from Madara exit the hall.
At that moment, the living and the dead cast a glance at each other.
Then they passed each other.
……
As storms gathered in Erluin’s royal capital, signaling the chaos to come, Brendel sat leisurely at the ‘Cross Star’ bar in Bruglas’s White Swan district. He subtly probed the bartender for news regarding the golden wine while glancing at the clock hanging on the wall of the bar.
The hour hand was soon to point to twelve.
Brendel didn’t expect a stroke of luck to help him complete this continuous mission line but was merely waiting for someone and finding ways to pass the time.
When the church bells chimed twelve outside, the bar door finally swung open.
A girl in a deep blue military uniform stood at the entrance, her long ponytail tied at the back, her face slightly flushed, and she looked at him with bright, light brown eyes.
Freya seemed to have officially become a knight; she wore the formal sash and knight’s belt, a church-issued longsword with a cross-shaped handle at her waist, and a pair of polished riding boots.
She appeared as a young and valiant knight.
However, her concerned expression betrayed her. Upon stepping inside, she glanced around before her gaze landed on Brendel, taking a deep breath and immediately walking over to ask:
“Are you leaving, Brendel?”
“Yeah.”
Freya fell silent.
……(To be continued. For more updates and to support the author and official reading, please log in.)
