Chapter 322: Act 89 – The Gathering Storm (Part Three)
“On the 17th day of the autumn twilight month, written in Toniger, from the domain of Baron Fir, this is addressed to His Highness Grihian Corvado Odrefice. In the battle that took place the night before yesterday, the Undead Army from the ‘Black Baron’ Instalung ambushed Fir Castle by circling through the four southern territories—resulting not only in significant casualties but also in Baron Grudin sacrificing his life for the country. As a pioneer knight of the kingdom passing through this area, graciously hosted by the baron, I feel it my duty to temporarily take on the local defense work. After a night of fighting, the undead have been pushed back; however, to prevent further incursions, I will lead the local defense and administrative tasks from today until the new lord personally appointed by Her Highness arrives—”
Makarolo took the letter and, halfway through reading it, his expression became somewhat peculiar. However, being well-experienced, he cleared his throat and continued reading:
“And I hereby question Count Rendener’s responsibilities, why he concealed the information regarding the Undead Army’s presence from Instalung in the Southlands, and his dereliction in allowing the army of Madara to stealthily cross the four territories. Secondly, I hope for Her Highness’s understanding and am enclosing a magical stone that records images from the battlefield to substantiate my claims.”
He raised his head.
“The magic stone is with me,” the princess replied without changing her expression, “Please continue, Lord Makarolo.”
“There’s nothing more, Your Highness.”
“No, there’s one more sentence.” The princess’s thick eyelashes fluttered slightly.
Makarolo picked up the letter and indeed saw another line of small text. Upon seeing that line, he felt a twitch in his eyelid, and his eyebrows slightly raised: “—Brendel.”
The room fell silent.
Makarolo, with a strange expression, put the letter back and looked at the others, jokingly saying, “I know Baron Grudin wasn’t doing his job properly, but this young man is a bit too audacious…”
He thought for a moment but couldn’t find a word to describe such audacity: “It’s simply…”
“Absurd!” Master Livwz said coldly, “This is a challenge to the kingdom; he is undermining the rules of the game among the nobles.”
Princess Grifian frowned slightly at the term “rules of the game”; this subtle change did not escape the keen eyes of Count Violet.
“What does everyone think?” she asked.
“I believe Mister Brendel,” the first to speak surprised everyone—it was Aike. Although this young man seemed a bit shy, he stood up and said, “The Mister Brendel I know is a true knight.”
“People can disguise themselves, young man,” Master Livwz replied.
This was indeed the case; both Makarolo and Count Violet slightly nodded, as nobles who had experienced struggles for a long time understood human nature and hearts more deeply than ordinary people.
The half-elf maiden’s expression was somewhat bland; she remained silent, her face revealing neither agreement nor disagreement. She only fluttered her eyelashes, her light silver eyes looking at the young man who had spoken for the first time.
“Master Livwz,” Aike respectfully bowed to the elder but didn’t back down, “In life and d*ath situations, people do not lie; moreover, what I witnessed were actions, not just words.”
The youthful innocence on the young man’s face gradually faded, and he surveyed everyone present—excluding Princess Grifian—he said, “Otherwise, I don’t believe Mr. Brendel could so justly reprimand us, and even have the legendary artifact acknowledge his words—”
“Eh?”
The half-elf maiden was slightly taken aback; she had heard Makarolo and others mention the artifact’s sensing ability. However, what did it mean that this young man, Aike, said Brendel had justly reprimanded them, linking it to the artifact’s reaction?
She curiously looked at the others; this curiosity was no different from any fifteen or sixteen-year-old girl’s fascination with the outside world, only that in this princess’s demeanor was an added layer of gracefulness.
Livwz did not expect Aike to bring this matter up; they had originally planned to keep this little episode under wraps, as it was not a glorious matter. However, seeing the princess cast a gaze like a little girl, he realized they could not hide it any longer. If this princess wanted to know something—she would definitely find out—with her intelligence.
The master cleared his throat and nodded to Makarolo.
Makarolo felt even more helpless, as he was the one who had been scolded the most back then. But out of necessity, this cunning fox had no choice but to recount the whole incident.
After finishing, he added, “Your Highness, we did not intend to deliberately conceal such trivial matters.”
Princess Grifian nodded, modestly saying, “Different positions lead to different understandings, which in turn causes conflict—this is not surprising. However, speaking of which, Master Livwz, this is a lesson you taught me—”
Livwz quickly bowed his head, feeling both anxious and relieved; he understood that his student was subtly blaming him for trying to conceal the incident, leaving the old man feeling both anxious from the suspicion of a superior and relieved that the princess hinted at a blaming attitude rather than reprimanding, which could be viewed as intimacy.
Makarolo and Count Bal exchanged glances, sighing in relief, as the princess had indicated she would not pursue the matter further. Although Count Violet was nominally the Grand Duke of Luun’s subordinate, since his lord had chosen a side, he must wholeheartedly serve this newly formed interest alliance.
But the half-elf maiden asked again, “However, everyone, regarding that young man named Brendel reprimanding you and the artifact generating a response, I’m curious about what he said to provoke such a stir.”
“He questioned whether we still remember the former king’s beliefs,” Makarolo answered quietly. In fact, Brendel’s questioning had shaken him enormously; every question the young man raised hit at the core.
At least for the royalists, it was a challenge to their ideals and pursuits, which sounded intolerable, yet he spoke with such reason that they found it hard to refute.
“Oh?”
Now Princess Grifian really seemed interested; she suddenly recalled the story told to her by Overwell. The story of a knight charging toward the massive army of Madara with a group of refugees, a story that seemed to shine in ancient times—when the bl**d in the nobility of Erluin had not yet grown cold.
Yet what was fascinating was that this story had truly occurred in the same era as hers.
Thus, she forever remembered the knight in that story.
But today, Makarolo’s words made her recall that scene: “Can you tell me more?” the princess subconsciously asked.
Makarolo felt a bit awkward.
Count Violet, seated next to him, took the initiative to respond, “Let me recount it.”
“Thank you,” the half-elf maiden nodded slightly.
Count Bal’s expression grew serious: “I remember, in the brightest era of Erluin. The knights of Erluin held horns and fluttering tails of flags—when the horn sounded, the kingdom’s blade surged forward.”
The room suddenly fell silent.
Makarolo sighed, taking over Count Bal’s words: “I remember the battlefield was a sea of banners, embroidered with golden symbols of Corvado, Golan-Elsen, and Anlek. I remember the nobles of that era still honored their oaths—”
“Do you remember that oath?”
“Of course I do.”
The princess slightly closed her eyes, clasped her hands, intertwining her fingers tightly, placing them at the tip of her nose as if in prayer. The answer in her heart was as clear to everyone; she silently recited, “I take the sacred oath under this sword!”
“I swear to lead my people—to take them away from conflict and slaughter, away from the arrogance and greed of the imperial nobility; I swear that to avoid repeating the cold-blooded mistakes of history, I will ensure that the nobles of this new kingdom adhere to the spirit of the knights—just and firm, upright and brave, kind and generous. I make this oath and will devote my life to uphold it!”
As the last syllable fell, the fragile yet strong half-elf princess felt a haze in her heart.
What that young man said was so clear, as if striking her inner weakness directly—Grifian had always believed she was strong enough, yet when someone was able to understand her lifelong dream…
This strong half-elf maiden was still stunned.
It was as if she were unaware that in another world, there was another self, practicing all of this with the same determination and effort.
In that world, Erluin was like a small boat tossed by storms in the dark sea, but she guided this boat forward through the raging waves with unwavering belief.
The dream that ran through the mainline of Erluin in the Amber Sword—
Was like a light in the darkness, attracting all the moths drawn to it.
Whether Valkyrie or the players of Erluin, countless people followed the same dream, all for the sake of fulfilling this regent princess’s dream.
In that dream, King Eke swore under the sword, leading his knights to break through the darkness and bring warmth and peace to everyone.
That dream had shattered.
Yet at this moment, this dream had just begun, as Princess Grifian opened her eyes, the confusion from recent days seemed to dissipate. Though the dark clouds in the northern sky were thickening, and the first snowfall seemed imminent, she felt she had found her direction.
“He spoke rightly,” the half-elf maiden’s expression grew a bit serious, “But dreams must be broken against reality to be realized; difficulties will not lessen by our resolution; the question lies in how we respond to them.”
“What do you all think?” she raised her head and asked.
“Let’s hear your views on this matter—”
……
(PS. There will always be countless prophetic empires, thank you for your hard work, let me satisfy you a little.)(To be continued, for more chapters, please log in, support the author, support proper reading!)
