Chapter 903: Act 79 – The Empire and the Queen
According to reason, these two individuals were both trusted confidants of the Silver Queen, and a minor oversight shouldn’t have left them so alarmed. However, just two days ago—specifically, the night before, the Empire suddenly lost contact with Fort Paseleian—anyone with a shred of rationality understood what that signified. Bad premonitions often prove to be the most accurate, and within the subsequent twenty-four hours, bad news began to snowfall like flakes—
First, the Imperial Pegasus Knights stationed at Yasar’s Empire detected the movements of a large legion in the Bear Lake region, followed by another scouting cavalry who reported a different legion in the southern Yongyin Valley.
Twenty-seven hours later, Valgris, Iron Yew Town, and Leafwood Avenue confirmed their downfall.
Twenty-nine hours later, Twin Town Nephel and Talis in the northern Bear Lake area sent urgent calls for help, and unfamiliar military traces were found around Gravel Town downstream of Yongyin River.
Thirty-four hours later, the southern part of Twin Town fell, and two hours later, the northern part also succumbed.
Thirty-seven hours later, an Imperial military outpost at the edge of the Bootwood Forest received a portion of the remaining soldiers from the south, including Baron Pirus of the Cooper family.
Forty-four hours later, Gravel Town was besieged.
Half an hour later, cavalry from Emerald Claw Fortress finally brought back confirmed news: Fort Paseleian had fallen, and a massive Jotungrund army was advancing toward Elnor Fortress along the eastern ridge of the Broken Sword Mountain range, while the Empire’s fortress legions were consistently retreating.
Fifteen minutes ago, Russuff confirmed its fall, and the Pegasus Knights flew over the city, observing that it seemed to have been stricken by over twelve rings of spells, with no residents left unscathed.
The Jotungrund had launched an invasion against the Empire, much of Anziluwa had fallen, the Evergreen Path was in imminent danger, and Lokos—the Broken Sword Mountain fortresses had become flickering stars far on the horizon.
It was as if, in an instant, terrible news spread like wildfire, centering around the White Rose Garden, like a plague throughout the imperial capital—news, carried by horse-riding messengers leaving the Holy Contipal Palace, entered the residences of various dukes, earls, the imperial guards, knight orders, and nobles close to Her Majesty, igniting the estates like a spark thrown into an oil pool. Under the arches, above the lofts, in the private chambers of nobility, candles burned brightly, and figures dressed in civilian clothes, covering their heads and faces, emerged from back doors, traversing alleys to enter the homes of nobles, big and small.
Next, the servants hurriedly left their masters’ estates, either mounted or on foot, heading towards the countless nameless corners of the city; whispered messages relayed from one person to another. One person hopped onto a carriage, riding towards the twenty-two gates of Rustra, and before dawn, countless carriages were departing the city, rattling off towards various directions of the Empire—some headed to the countryside, some towards castles, some towards docks, with news of war carrying along with them, spreading across the entire map of the Empire.
This was everything that transpired within the forty-eight hours leading up to when Mr. Travis B. and Dragoon Commander Kevin de Saint Vallier stepped into the White Rose.
At this moment, before Constance, the Dragoon Commander appeared somewhat rational, while Mr. Travis was practically trembling; the former was responsible for the promotion assessment of the court knights, while the latter primarily dealt with intelligence collection and oversight, making the current blunder clearly fall on his shoulders. The Knight Commander was anxious to explain to this supreme figure of the Empire, but Constance needed not an explanation, but rather an answer.
In the Queen’s study, they were not alone; the Empire’s foremost figures had already gathered. At the front stood Marquis Nigel, commander of the White Legion, Baron Brandilen, closely associated with the Imperial Navy, Donas, Young Nidwen, the Patriarch of the Cecil Family, and the current commander of the Blue Legion, Earl Rodney, along with Duke Helix. Behind them were nobles from other families, most of whom were regular courtiers at Her Majesty’s side, in addition to emissaries from the Temple of Fire. These individuals could generally be divided into three factions: those close to the Parut family had noticeably grim expressions, while the nobles from the Cecil family and the military mostly had smiles watching this scene. The last group, led by Duke Helix and Young Nidwen the Chancellor, wore blank expressions, showing no emotions.
As for Her Majesty the Queen, her demeanor was unfazed, her gaze revealing neither anger nor leniency. Anyone slightly familiar with this supreme figure of the Empire would understand that often, it was under such a state that she was the most terrifying.
After a considerable time, Constance finally spoke.
She glanced at the two—although Her Majesty appeared as a young maiden, her steady gaze revealed her depth—the Queen coldly remarked: “This is already the second time. My dear Parut family, and you noble lords of the south, your recent behaviors truly are unworthy of your status. Commander, you and your brother disappoint me greatly. Are you both waiting for me to speak?”
Upon hearing this, most nobles from the Cecil family seemed to gloat, while the military figures looked on in anticipation. Only Nidwen frowned; in his memory, this Queen rarely expressed her stance so clearly—yet, this was the third time in a short span, whether it was the reprimand at the Holy Contipal Palace directed at the Cecil family, or her scolding of Duke Parut in the White Rose Garden, coupled with the present attitude, it made him feel peculiar.
But while Nidwen found it merely odd, Donas’s expression had already changed drastically; the wrath from the throne was frightening and made one tremble. He clenched his teeth, not daring to utter a word.
Travis had nearly swayed, though Her Majesty spoke of ‘dear’, he felt as if his face had turned pale. He internally deliberated repeatedly, ultimately unable to do anything but humbly respond, “I dare not, Your Majesty.”
“Then tell me, what are the movements of the lions of Toquinin in the west of Emerald Claw Fortress?”
“None, Your Majesty,” Travis quickly wiped the sweat and answered.
“What about the elves in the Wilds of Four Directions?”
This time, the one answering was Marquis Nigel, who shook his head: “No movements, but the elves should not have received the news yet; otherwise, they would not miss this opportunity.”
“So that means there is at least no relation between Jotungrund and the Wind Elves?” Constance inquired.
As she asked this, she slightly furrowed her brow as if pondering something, yet there was a subtle feeling that her mind was not focused on the present events.
Like Chancellor Young Nidwen, Nigel appeared to sense this, but this doubt merely flashed through his mind, and he soon shook his head: “There should be none.”
“What of the lions of Toquinin?”
“The lions should be waiting for news; once Jotungrund’s army reaches Elnor Fortress, they will take action.” Young Nidwen finally spoke, glancing at Her Majesty.
“How large is the army from Jotungrund?” Constance exchanged glances with the young Chancellor, then shifted the pressure onto Travis.
The latter was sweating profusely, “Your Majesty, it’s still unclear, but they should have at least two legions in Anziluwa.”
The Silver Queen fell silent, as if calculating something.
Young Nidwen hesitated for a moment and continued, “It’s highly likely those underground kings have already taken action; otherwise, to reach this scale would require at least half of Jotungrund’s lords.”
“Their target is Yasar,” Constance finally came back to her senses: “Do we now have any countermeasures? What forces are still in Anziluwa?”
“We originally could have mobilized the forces from Anzeruta, but now…” Young Nidwen trailed off, looking towards Donas in the crowd. The latter’s expression darkened, internally scolding the Chancellor; he naturally understood what this insinuated. Aside from the locals, the garrison in Anzeruta was mainly under the command of Earl Ji’en and Earl Orkans, but that portion had long been mobilized to reinforce Fort Paseleian. As for the remaining noble forces, everyone present knew where they were headed.
He quickly stepped forward to answer: “Your Majesty, the troops from Anzeruta have already been channeled into Lokos—the Broken Sword Mountain fortresses, and the remaining militia and local defense forces are utterly useless. Not to mention, even if they were, that unruly Earl of Toniger has already defeated them.”
“Being played in circles by an Erluin, it seems Mr. Donas considers it a glorious thing,” scoffed Duke Cecil.
The latter’s face flushed with a wave of color, yet he dared not retort, for the supreme figure of the Empire clearly showed her displeasure, evidently unsatisfied with him.
Constance’s expression returned to its earlier coldness: “Then where is my recent army stationed?”
“The two Pegasus Knight regiments of the White Legion are currently stationed in the Violet Valley, Your Majesty,” Marquis Nigel quickly replied.
“Is there still time?”
The former shook his head: “To support Yasar, we must pass through the Evergreen Path; unless Gravel Town can hold out for at least forty-eight hours, it’s unlikely we can make it.”
Constance looked at her courtiers with a teasing gaze: “So, we have to give up on the Anziluwa area? Or are you saying that if Lokos—the Broken Sword Mountain fortresses fall, this would be the largest disgrace in the Empire’s history, and the burden of it is to fall upon me?”
Silence filled the room.
The Silver Queen gazed at her courtiers and coldly smiled: “Donas, go notify Duke Parut that my bottom line for you is to keep Lokos—the Broken Sword Mountain fortresses from falling. If you cannot even manage this, it shows you are unworthy of governing this land. At that time, let the White Legion take over the defense from Anzeruta to the Evergreen Path.”
Constance’s voice wasn’t high, but it fell upon the crowd like a thunderclap; everyone’s gazes instantly turned toward Her Majesty’s longtime favored servant, filled with surprise, confusion, curiosity, along with sympathy, trepidation, and glee, a mixtures of emotions. Nearly everyone present was an old fox adept at navigating the center of power in the Empire, naturally understanding the weight of those words.
This time, Her Majesty truly was enraged.
Donas wobbled slightly, nearly fainting; he pale-faced looked at this supreme figure of the Empire, not daring to express any grievance, quickly bowed, saying, “I understand.”
Then he stumbled back through the crowd and left the study.
Inside the study, only the trembling Travis remained, but Constance didn’t even spare him a glance, sweeping her sleeve and leaving the room accompanied by her maid.
When Rodney and the other nobles left the White Rose Garden, he deliberately lagged behind a step to catch up with Duke Helix. The latter was originally preparing to board his carriage but, noticing this newly appointed Patriarch of the Esrichke Family’s actions, turned back and asked: “Lord Earl, what advice do you have?”
Rodney wore a bitter smile: “Your Grace, please pardon my presumption, but I wanted to inquire about your thoughts on Her Majesty’s words just now?”
Upon hearing this, the Duke paused his boarding action, retracting his foot and looking at him with a grave expression: “What do you think, Lord Earl?”
“Her Majesty has recently publicly relaxed her oversight of the military, yet privately intensified her pressure on us; I thought she would take the opportunity to support the Parut family, but unexpectedly…”
Duke Helix shook his head: “Her Majesty’s temperament has grown increasingly reclusive lately; it has been some time since the Parut family has received her favor…”
Rodney seemed to think of something: “Ever since that incident…”
Duke Helix shot him a wary glance: “Be silent, this is not for you and I to discuss. Young Rodney, in light of our families’ longstanding relations, let me advise you: while there’s still an opportunity, return to your family’s territory.”
Rodney was slightly taken aback: “Your Grace, you?”
The Duke nodded: “Within a week, I intend to leave the capital and return to Flower Leaf Territory.”
Rodney stared at him in shock; leaving the capital at this time effectively equated to announcing one’s departure from the center of imperial power—a nearly unimaginable action for nobles of their rank.
However, the old Duke shook his head: “Young Rodney, the upheaval forty years ago, you were still small; I witnessed it firsthand, and I no longer wish to experience it again. Enough, I’ve said my piece. This is all based on our families’ longstanding ties, take it as you will, believe it or not, but do not let it reach other ears. How to weigh your choices is left to your own discretion.”
Finishing up, he waved at the latter and boarded his carriage, leaving Rodney standing there, lost in thought, watching the carriage slip into the darkness.
But in the end, the latter gently smiled and shook his head.
…
Betisha quietly slipped into the room and closed the door behind her. She then turned around, glancing around the dark room as if looking for something.
At that moment, a voice came: “Betisha, you’re back?”
The round-faced mountain village maid was clearly startled, then she discerned that it was the voice of her Lord Earl, and breathed a sigh of relief. Though she hadn’t found Xi in the room, she quickly nodded.
After a moment of silence, the voice asked again: “So, what’s out there? Is it all true?”
“It’s all true, Lord Earl. The rumors outside are quite something; they say the Empire suffered a defeat in the south, and now Anziluwa and Lokos are in danger,” she thought for a moment, as if recalling something, and then stammered to reply, “But it’s a bit strange, this time the attackers are neither the lions nor the Wind Elves of Saint Ausoor, but the army from Jotungrund. I’ve never even heard of that place.”
“Jotungrund?” Xi paused slightly, suddenly recalling the troglodytes from Cold Fir Territory. She silently fell into a daze, her yearning for Erluin growing stronger. With a creak, she opened the window, and Betisha discovered that her Lady Earl was standing by the window, holding that emerald spear, staring blankly outside, her eyes reflecting the starlight under the night sky, making Betisha involuntarily frown, thinking it was bad, the Earl was having another episode.
After a while, Xi turned her head back, as if recalling something, and called: “Betisha, Betisha.”
“I’m here, Lord Earl,” Betisha quickly responded.
“How far is Anziluwa from where you mentioned Russuff last time?” the mountain girl quietly inquired.
Betisha opened her mouth, her heart sinking; she could not find the words to continue.
Xi’s bright eyes fixated on her: “Is my Lord there?”
Betisha certainly understood whom this ‘Lord’ referred to, yet she couldn’t help but inwardly lament that she had gotten involved in finding out messages for this Earl. The true purpose was evidently here. However, as a maid, she dared not lie and could only nod honestly. She hadn’t even nodded a second time when she felt her Lord Earl swiftly reach her side, gripping her shoulders, urgently asking: “Where is he? Where is the Jotungrund army now? Is he in danger?”
Betisha was so frightened she nearly screamed, hastily shaking her head, pale-faced. How could she possibly know these things? As for the rumors outside, they were all so loud, yet none reliable; she could only understand the general idea at most.
However, she knew that saying such things would inevitably make her Lord Earl unable to sleep well these few days, so she comforted: “Lord Earl, that lord of the Toquinin people may have already left Anziluwa. If he boarded a ship from Lune, he should reach Bankel soon, and perhaps by now, he’s already on the Sublime Sea.”
Xi seemed to genuinely take in those words. She relaxed, glanced at her maid, and nodded: “Thank you, Betisha.”
“Lord Earl, it’s what I ought to do.”
As Betisha spoke, she silently prayed, “Martha, may the Earl’s affliction heal quickly, and that he won’t be so enigma-ridden.”
…
(PS: Thanks to a certain PPT user for the character relationship chart made for Amber. I have received it, and it has been tremendously helpful—seeing this makes me feel the deep affection everyone has for Amber. I am very touched. Upon receiving this chart, I felt invigorated to continue writing Amber until the perfect ending. Thank you, everyone.)
