Chapter 320: Act 87 – The Gathering Storm (Part 1)
Brendel was indeed preparing for something big.
After a series of encounters in the Schafflund mines, the silver had invigorated the territory like blood flowing into veins.
At the same time, the benefits gained from the runic dwarves’ sanctuary had exceeded everyone’s expectations, and Brendel soon found himself with the capacity to tackle even greater challenges.
But it was not just challenges—
Because challenges also symbolized opportunities, just as risks and rewards always coexist. At this moment, Brendel set his sights on the distant north, deciding to give the nobility a louder voice.
A voice regarding the rise of a new power.
As part of the entire plan, this emerging strength had to quickly prove itself to this ancient kingdom, whether it was a warning to enemies—or confidence to potential allies.
Brendel considered that his messenger should have almost arrived in the hands of Princess Grifian.
For whatever reason, with this thought in mind, the news of Sir Minate’s dismal defeat finally reached Count Rendener’s ears.
Of course, it simultaneously reached the Royal Cavalry Academy, landing on the redwood desk before the princess—
The half-elf princess’s delicate and thick lashes slightly drooped as she sat upright on the red velvet long-backed chair, gazing at the two reports on the desk—specifically, a letter and a piece of intelligence written on parchment. Today, she wore a well-tailored military uniform, but this specially crafted silver outfit accentuated the girl’s slender and beautiful curves, adding a touch of seriousness and vigor to her fragility.
Princess Grifian did not speak; her pale silver eyes occasionally fluttered. After a long while, she gently tapped the desk with her finger, returning from this rare state of full concentration.
She raised her head.
Nemeses and Overwell were not present; standing at the desk were another group of individuals. In fact, she recognized only one among them—the half-elf princess nodded at the elderly man.
“Teacher.”
The elderly man, dressed in a scholar’s robe, was the court master Livwz, who at this moment held no arrogance he had shown when facing Brendel but instead bowed respectfully.
This princess was his most proud disciple, but at the same time, she was also the hope of the royal party’s revival. Though he held absolute authority in imparting knowledge, at this time—he had to display the humility that a subject ought to have.
“Your Highness.”
Princess Grifian smiled slightly, her gaze sweeping over the other individuals. She had not seen these people before, but she recognized each of their identities.
The only young man, spirited yet somewhat at a loss, was Aike.
Next to the young man stood a calm middle-aged man, weathered by time but still maintaining an air of nobility— the half-elf maiden remembered having seen him when she was very young; she guessed this must be Makarolo.
The cunning fox Makarolo.
Once a leader of the royal faction.
Next to him stood a tall man with long fingers, clearly someone who had trained in swordsmanship for a long time. Princess Grifian smiled faintly; this was the Crosshand Bud.
The last one was, without a doubt, the notorious noble associated with a distinct style, Count Violet. Though the half-elf princess had not met Bal, she had heard of his reputation.
Her gaze lingered on these four individuals, using hints from past reports along with her keen observation; she recognized the renowned guests without needing Livwz to introduce them.
The Duke of Lantonrand’s son, the current heir of the Cross Sword, a former leader of the royal faction, and the infamous Count Bal, known as this generation’s cunning fox.
These individuals certainly lived up to their illustrious titles.
Especially the youngest, Aike.
Although Lantonrand was just a small principality on the border of Ampere Seale and Anlek, the support of the Grand Duke of Luun was of utmost importance to this princess in the current situation.
Fortunately, the Duke of Lantonrand and the Duke of Anlek had always been at odds, their discord having escalated into enmity.
Princess Grifian’s gaze lingered on Aike’s face for a second.
This special treatment caused the young man to redden; he had not yet adjusted to his past identity—anyone who suddenly jumped from being an obscure mercenary to a prominent noble would undoubtedly feel dazed.
Moreover, he hadn’t anticipated that the princess he had heard rumors about would be so beautiful.
As a half-elf, hailed as the most dazzling gem on the Erluin crown—Princess Grifian possessed a special beauty in her demeanor—seemingly infused with a coldness unique to elves, yet also showing human warmth.
The amalgamation of these two diametrically opposed qualities easily stirred the heart of anyone who saw her for the first time.
Though still young, she already had the potential to captivate an entire nation.
“Mr. Aike,” the half-elf maiden began, “and my lord Makarolo, Count Bal, Mr. Bud, it’s a pleasure to have you here at this time to support the Corvado royal family—”
She began to name the identities of those present, clearly surprising several of them.
Only Makarolo appeared somewhat pleased; to him, this princess was indeed as outstanding as the rumors suggested. That the Corvado royal family had such a successor filled him with a sense of hope that was no longer so forlorn.
This sly fox always believed that the role of humans was paramount, but the hearts of people and manpower were equally important; the impetuous firstborn prince did not please him. Now, upon seeing this princess, he felt much more at ease.
For some reason, however, Makarolo suddenly thought of another young man.
He quickly shook his head, trying to erase that memory from his mind.
Meanwhile, Count Violet was impassive, watching the two reports on the princess’s desk from afar. He had little interest in the pleasantries spoken by the princess; determining their identities was not difficult—if Princess Grifian couldn’t manage that, it would be too much of an insult to her reputation.
On the contrary, he was quite interested in why the princess was so absorbed in reading those two reports. Rarely did someone of her stature reveal their emotions, yet when they had entered just now, she had been almost propped up on her chin while studying the papers.
She was even smiling slightly while reading them.
Count Violet would wager that this princess was unaware that she had been smiling just now.
Interesting!
The unconventional noble thought to himself.
However, he did not rashly speak; although he was unorthodox in his approach, he was not a reckless hothead. At this moment, the situation did not call for him to speak. He glanced at Livwz, and indeed the elderly man had already begun to speak:
“Your Highness, please do not say that; I have indeed been delayed longer than expected,” Livwz replied, bowing his head, “because I encountered some hold-ups on the way—” He raised his head and asked, “May I ask how the situation is in the north now, Your Highness?”
“Clouds are heavy,”
Princess Grifian glanced out the window, using a simple and accurate term to describe the movements of the ducal coalition in the north—
“Their emissaries have already entered Ampere Seale, and it seems they are on the verge of persuading those greedy merchants.”
“Are there no plans for countermeasures?” Makarolo spoke up.
Everyone turned to look at him, but years of experience had indeed changed this former cunning fox; he had become much more practical, no longer strictly adhering to the rules of the noble circle.
Because under normal circumstances, it wasn’t his turn to speak.
But Princess Grifian’s silver eyes shone slightly; unlike the others, this princess appreciated such talents even more.
“I have already entrusted Princess Margadale with the task; you know her connections are extensive, and she has close ties to the Temple. Perhaps she can turn the situation around,” the half-elf maiden replied.
“Is that the nun princess?” Livwz asked tentatively.
The half-elf maiden nodded.
“Are there any arrangements for protection?” Makarolo immediately asked, “At this stage of the struggle, both sides’ actions are nearly transparent; once Princess Margadale leaves, she might encounter an ambush—”
Princess Grifian’s admiration grew, and she smiled slightly.
“Of course, Nemeses will lead the team personally.”
Bud raised an eyebrow; Nemeses was the daughter of Lady Miller and had familial ties with the Grand Duke of Luun. He had seen her once long ago; at that time, she was still a little girl, but her displayed talent in swordsmanship was already astonishing.
He thought that many years have passed, and she should have become an excellent swordsman by now.
Bud knew Nemeses; naturally, Makarolo would as well. Upon hearing her name, he visibly relaxed but still said, “Although Lady Miller’s daughter is outstanding, she is still a student of the academy. I think Your Highness needs a more experienced leader—”
Princess Grifian nodded: “That’s why I didn’t let them depart immediately, but was waiting for you all to arrive.”
Makarolo was startled and stopped.
He exchanged glances with Bud, deeply impressed by this princess’s meticulous arrangements. Bud immediately took a step forward, placing a hand on his sword and replying, “I will not refuse.”
The half-elf maiden nodded.
The room fell silent; although there was another pact to be forged between the Grand Duke of Luun and the Corvado royal family, it was evident that this was not the time to bring that up.
Yet everyone felt as if there was nothing else to discuss apart from this matter—
The pressure from the north was tightening, and although everyone maintained a calm appearance, deep down they felt a sense of urgency, naturally lacking the mood to talk about trivialities among nobles.
On the other hand, the half-elf princess was a bit more relaxed, smiling at her guests: “Why not sit down and talk about something lighter? I have been hearing bad news every day—”
“Why don’t you share some interesting things from your journey? If I’m not mistaken, Mr. Aike seems to have been a mercenary; this is quite a unique and admirable experience among us nobles—” As Princess Grifian spoke, she glanced at Makarolo, evidently including him in her praise.
“Also, I remember Master Livwz is always punctual; this time, it seems you didn’t run into any minor troubles. Could you share that with us?”
She asked in a lighthearted tone.
Aike was currently in a daze, lacking the ability to respond to the princess’s words; he could only stammer unintelligibly. Instead, Master Livwz spoke up first:
“Actually, Your Highness, we did encounter a bit of a minor problem—”
“Interestingly, it has to do with the Golden Apple!”
The mention of the Golden Apple made the half-elf maiden’s heart skip a beat, focusing her attention instantly. This minor change in the princess’s expression almost went unnoticed by everyone, but only Count Violet caught it.
This unique noble raised an eyebrow.
…
(PS. Hey, buddy, don’t tell me you don’t believe this is real; bigger surprises are still to come. But it seems your support is lacking.)(To be continued; for more chapters, please log in to support the author and read the official version!)
