Chapter 655: Act 17 – Siblings VI
The courtyard was momentarily terrifyingly silent.
Aside from the short, soft syllables of “ah” from the aide and the restless movements of the Business Lady, Princess Grifian was staring at her brother as if he were a mere object. Brendel discreetly tightened his grip on the sword hilt hidden beneath his coat, intently watching the two siblings. He suspected that the Crown Prince was in a state of turmoil due to the devastating blow he had just received, but one thing he could guarantee was that if there was the slightest hint of ill intent from the prince, he would swiftly send the black blade of Earth’s Sword into his heart before he could act.
As for the identity of the Crown Prince, did Brendel think it held any significance?
Yet the Crown Prince made no move. He stood composed at the intersection of everyone’s gaze, his long hair cascading down, eyes closed, exhibiting not a shred of tension—as if he had merely delivered a perfectly normal greeting of “Good afternoon,” rather than demanding, “Please relinquish the throne to me.”
“Give me a reason, brother.” Finally, breaking the deathly silence, the princess spoke in a voice that sounded like echoes of water dropping into a well.
However, her face seemed encased in ice.
“The reason is simple, Grifian,” the Crown Prince replied calmly, “because you need time to unify the Southlands. South of Ampere Seale, you can find many supporters. Mister Brendel—he might soon replace Count Rendener. Also, there are the Duke of Lantonrand and the Duke of Vieiro, who are less power-hungry. The Highland Knights will also stand beside you thanks to Mister Brendel. Once you unify the Southlands, the North will no longer be your obstacle.”
“And you?” Princess Grifian asked, “Becoming the King of the North?”
“You need someone to assist you in your duplicity, while keeping the dignity of the royal family intact. Moreover, the northern nobles are more likely to accept me than you, because the Siphai family has a natural leadership over them. Additionally, Grifian, there’s a war looming in the North, and I can serve as your natural shield. A unified South and a war-torn North—who prevails will be all too clear for you.”
Brendel felt a slight stir in his heart.
He couldn’t help but glance up, seemingly wanting to reassess this prince of Erluin. The princess was doing the same; she raised her head and asked seriously, “If this is a lie… it seems rather clumsy, brother.”
“A war between the North and South is inevitable, but it’s only a matter of time. You and I both know, Grifian, that even with the incomplete Black Blade Legion and the not-so-obedient White Lion Army, defeating the South is already impossible.”
Levin replied calmly, then tilted his ear as if confirming that High Priest Wood had walked far enough away. “Will the Temple of Fire allow a civil war in Erluin under such circumstances?”
“Not at all.”
“They hope you can reach such a compromise with the North, preferably keeping Erluin as it is, just as everything unfolded after the Year of the Astrologer.”
“But—”
“What if you had the absolute power to sweep through the North? Before they can raise any protests—”
Silence settled in like dust settling in the courtyard, leaving every other sound motionless on the ground.
“Forgive me for speaking out,” Brendel finally couldn’t help but interject, as if he had pondered long and hard about it. “Your Highness, although the queen and Duke Siphai treat you as a puppet, I believe you are indeed participating in this ‘game’ behind the scenes?”
Levin turned his head abruptly toward the source of the voice.
His sword-like eyebrows shot together, making him appear suddenly taller and more imposing. “You are more capable than I imagined, Mister Brendel. I’m glad not to be your enemy. Can you tell me how you came to this conclusion? Was it a guess or intuition?”
Neither. It was merely that those who came before had planted the trees for others to enjoy the shade. Historical accounts of this prince from past lives contained only fragments, and even his whereabouts are unclear. But curious players are very good at piecing together hints; numerous articles analyze Levin O’Nessen Siphai’s character and life experiences.
Some are sheer speculation, some are guesses, and some are rumors, but tying this information together with the real presence of the Crown Prince made the conclusion quite simple.
“Because of ambition—an ambitious person wouldn’t be content to merely be a pawn,” Brendel felt as if he had never been so rational before, as if inspired, all previous speculations about this prince forming the foundation for his current speech.
It was as if he stood on the shoulders of giants, calmly stating, “Since you can find High Priest Wood and struggle for a glimmer of hope in such desperate circumstances, how could you have truly allowed yourself to be manipulated?”
“Very impressive, and indeed true.” The Crown Prince sighed, “I have prevented some things, within my capabilities. There are actions of my mother that I find acceptable, though I do not agree with the methods.”
“Moreover, everyone has their own interests, and I do not see that as a sin,” he replied.
The princess seemed about to speak but suddenly hesitated. She glanced at Brendel, signaling him to continue. Grasping her trust, Brendel asked, “Then what are your interests? Which side do you stand on?”
“I have said that we stand together. I want to become the King of the North, and you need me to be your shield in the North.” The Crown Prince maintained a calm demeanor.
But Brendel carefully observed the changes in his expression, sensing intuition that the Crown Prince had not revealed the whole truth. He instinctively glanced to the side and happened to notice the maid beside Levin furrowing her brow slightly.
She seemed about to say something, but the Crown Prince raised his hand to stop her.
“All of this is but an illusion; you know well your end. Is it worth sacrificing your life simply for a year, a year and a half of being the King of the North?”
“Brother.” Princess Grifian finally couldn’t hold back.
The Crown Prince chuckled and replied, “Grifian, have you ever tasted what it feels like to be unable to control your own destiny? I swear, one day I will master my own path, even if only for a minute, a second—do you remember what I told you during the Winter Hunt?”
“…Erluin is like a Black Forest. You said if you were the wolf, your choices would be the same…” Princess Grifian recalled the trap in the snow and the blood that dyed her vision red.
The Year of the Astrologer, the icy winds sweeping across the plateau, still sent a chill down one’s spine.
“Even if I have to gnaw off my leg, I want freedom, because the wilderness is my true home,” Levin replied, revealing his white teeth. “Moreover, I may not necessarily fail. Though the North is full of challenges, there is always a glimmer of hope. Seeking survival in desperate situations is exactly my forte.”
“Grifian, if you cannot defeat me, I will not hesitate to crush you. Like you, I will not allow Ampere Seale to remain divided for long—not even for a day.” The cold voice echoed in the front courtyard.
Even the Business Lady was startled, turning her head, her eyes wide in disbelief at this madness.
The Crown Prince indeed seemed mad, but at least he was an elegant madman. He bowed to his sister, making it impossible to find any fault.
Princess Grifian pondered for a long while with a cold expression before stopping him. “Do you think I would hesitate to kill you?”
“Indeed.”
“…But I will not agree to your terms.”
“And then what?” The Crown Prince, unfazed, asked with a smile.
Princess Grifian silently watched him.
Two coaches emerged from the estate in succession, with many people waiting in the courtyard to board them.
“He didn’t tell the whole truth,” Antinna quietly reminded her lord as she boarded, “at least not completely.”
“I know, you’re referring to that part?” Brendel, as usual, assisted his aide into the carriage, a gesture that made him seem out of the ordinary. However, Brendel paid no mind to the odd looks from the servants, instead looking up and asking.
“I don’t know, but I feel that he is holding something back, I just have a feeling.”
“Intuition?”
“Intuition is also a form of experience, my lord,” Antinna replied seriously.
Brendel pondered, finding some truth in her words. He turned back to gaze at the other carriage. The crest on it was dark and nearly colorless; he shared the same doubts in his heart—this Crown Prince was undoubtedly the most composed person he had encountered since his arrival in this world, and such a person was unlikely to tell the whole truth.
But the key is, what exactly was he concealing?
He looked back, pinched Romaine’s nose that was sticking out, causing the latter to tumble back with an “ouch.” He then boarded the carriage, greeted the younger prince and the cold-faced princess, and took a seat beside Romaine.
Princess Grifian furrowed her brow, seemingly lost in thought.
Among those present, only Brendel truly understood what was on her mind. But he said little, simply lifting the curtain to look outside. The scenery of Ampere Seale was gradually being engulfed by twilight.
From this day forth, Levin O’Nessen Siphai, her brother, would no longer be the of the Corvado family. By the joint appointment of the princess and the temple—he would have a legitimate, brand-new title, the new Duke of Siphai.
This new duke would be appointed to prepare the North for the impending war with the lion-maned warriors, but in truth, it was a promise to make him the King of the North; everyone would understand it well.
Although all of this had yet to be finalized, Brendel could already guess what the princess’s response would be.
This appeared to be a compromise of the royal faction.
But only a few would comprehend the truth behind it.
Some might think that Princess Grifian should be tougher, while others might consider this a more mature political tactic. Yet what truly puzzled Grifian was that her brother seemed completely confident.
No one knew if this was a mistake.
But from Brendel’s perspective, the outcome was still quite favorable. What Erluin needed was not a name of righteousness but rather time; just a bit more time, and he would have the capability to save this kingdom.
And now, the Crown Prince was offering them exactly what they desired. As long as the northern nobles no longer stirred, the princess would be able to clear up the chaos in the South.
More importantly, after three years of peace, the enemies Erluin could face in three years would no longer be the petty threats currently present.
The Crown Prince had his own plans, and Brendel had his as well.
Valhalla was the cornerstone of all this, and he was incredibly certain of that.
He took one last look at the golden dusk outside the window; in that direction, there was a glimmering coastline, as if one could see the magnificent scenery of the Loop of Trade Winds through the golden clouds. Then he lowered the curtain and ceased to ponder these matters.
As for what the Crown Prince truly wanted, let the future judge that history.
At least it was so for Brendel.
……
(PS: There will be one more update.) (To be continued. If you enjoy this work, you are welcome to cast your recommendation votes and monthly tickets on Qidian (qidian.com); your support is my greatest motivation.)
