Chapter 968: Act 140 – The Witch’s Revolt III
The Crusian people mentioned by Flour naturally refer to the southern nobles of Cruz, led by Earl Orkans. Since their arrival at Fatan Port, these southern nobles had initially behaved themselves, likely because they were aware that they had been tied to Brendel in the same boat. The army of Jotungrund and the Lionmen in the south could attack Evergreen Path at any moment. At such a time, failing to ally with Erluin’s fleet would mean seeking their own doom.
Furthermore, news of the civil war in the Bankel region had reached them. The Queen, having split from the Temple, suddenly proclaimed herself the heir of the Dark Dragon, which left them feeling lost. The deeply rooted beliefs accumulated over millennia crumbled in an instant; such a thing was unacceptable to anyone. Therefore, initially, Earl Orkans and others expressed a sense of unity, diligently managing the lower-level officials at Fatan Port while actively contacting the northern nobles in hopes of seeking an alliance to resist that mad Queen.
However, as the situation deteriorated rapidly, the nobles east of Metz found it impossible to resist the Queen’s advance, suffering continuous defeats. It seemed that the army of the New Temple had reached Ludwig’s doorstep in the blink of an eye. Although they had yet to face the Black Legion in battle, the tactical advantage was already overwhelmingly in their favor. Compounding the situation was Veronika’s house arrest, which delayed the Blue Legion’s response to the northern nobles’ “uprising,” leading to the frequent sighting of retreating noble remnants from the front lines in Fatan.
Various rumors spread, starting with the nobles of Cloak Bay defecting. Then, suddenly, unfamiliar armies appeared under the Queen’s banner. Today, the Sainya Wolfmen attacked Mo Tehabu Fort, and tomorrow the mountain folk pledged allegiance. There were even rumors that the Azure Spear had come into the Queen’s hands. These signs indicated that the power of this Imperial Empress was visibly increasing, as the once-isolated Silver Queen seemed to have suddenly gained control of a third of the Empire’s power.
At this moment, the New Temple had become an unignorable, even stifling behemoth.
As a result, the southern nobles, whose stance had never been firm to begin with, began to waver. However, initially, this wavering only spread among the lower tiers until the sudden alignment of the Lionmen and Jotungrund forces delivered a fatal blow to them. In fact, Earl Orkans and the others had not truly felt the civil war in the north, as Brendel had tightly blockaded the port. Thus, most of their firsthand information came from rumors. Such rumors could indeed cause panic, but it was difficult to say how much genuine fear they instilled.
Yet the deep-rooted fear these nobles had of the southern Lionmen and the Jotungrund army—especially the latter—was undeniable. They had witnessed firsthand how that army had destroyed their homes, driven them from their lands, and forced them into a refugee-like existence.
If it weren’t for the constant threat posed by the Jotungrund army looming over the east’s Evergreen Path, why would they remain trapped here?
Now that the Lionmen and the subterranean lords had made their allegiance clear under the banner of the Dark Dragon, the situation had become somewhat subtle. Who exactly was the Dark Dragon? She was no longer just the Emperor of the Minren from a millennium ago; she was the Silver Queen, the Crusian. While nobility cared about faith, what mattered more to them was their identity as citizens of the Empire, which guaranteed their status and was a source of pride. Preserving their lives was undoubtedly the top priority, but status and power were also what they sought.
Previously, these two options seemed mutually exclusive, but with the changing circumstances, the fleeing nobles from the south suddenly discovered that these two choices appeared to merge into one.
How could they preserve their lives and positions?
At least for now, surrendering to the Queen seemed to be the only possibility. After all, she was still the Emperor of the Crusian, and although she had split from the Temple, she could still be considered legitimate by some stretch. Thus, a subtle change arose in the hearts of these fleeing nobles. Even including Earl Orkans, the upper-level nobles began to gradually lean towards the faction advocating surrender. At this moment, Brendel’s position as an Erluin was particularly highlighted. Previously, he could evoke their faith, claiming the Temple of Fire transcended national borders, deeply rooted over centuries. While there were significant differences between the Erluins and the Crusian, they shared at least this common ground.
That was their shared belief.
Leaning on religion often made people overlook national differences.
However, this reasoning would soon become untenable because, with the threat to life lifted, the new faith established by the Silver Queen appeared not so unacceptable. The difficult choice in this war quietly transformed into a question of reform or tradition, and people seemingly purposefully avoided the identity of the Silver Queen as the Dark Dragon.
In truth, without Flour saying so, Brendel was well aware that the current situation was ultimately driven by the lack of legitimacy among the northern nobles. After all, regardless of who the Silver Queen was, she had at least once been the Emperor of the Empire—though she had split from the Temple, she had not betrayed the Empire. In simple terms, this woman once intentionally placed royal authority above ecclesiastical power. Although this action was somewhat controversial, it was not unacceptable to the nobles. Except for the die-hard loyalists of the Temple of Fire, no one wanted to conflict with the Queen on this issue, especially not while risking their lives.
The northern nobles were opposed to the Queen because they supported the Crown Prince, while these southern fleeing nobles had no such concerns. Even if some were loyalists of the Temple, now that the Temple was split into two, whom were they to pledge their allegiance to?
Thus, this war was never truly based on the ideals of justice and evil or light and darkness; it was merely a pretext. This was a civil war, and Brendel had always been clear about that. Although he had previously used this reasoning to deceive Earl Orkans and others for a long time, the Empire’s nobles were not foolish, and it was about time they figured it out.
It was time to give them a strong dose of reality, Brendel thought. He quietly listened to Flour’s account; what the Wild Elf girl mentioned was not far from what he had imagined—at least it was not as unexpected as the Witch’s Revolt. He even felt that these southern nobles had been somewhat dim-witted; perhaps they were just too terrified of the Jotungrund or for some other reason. He thought they should have stirred up trouble long ago.
But he was not worried. Once Flour finished speaking, he calmly asked, “So what are they doing now?”
The Wild Elf girl paused, unable to help but furrow her brow. To her, the current situation had arisen entirely due to the negligence of the Lord in front of her. Over the past few days, Brendel had neither strictly controlled the information nor stopped the nobles fleeing from the frontlines from entering the port—he had merely prohibited them from leaving again. There was also a lack of restraint regarding those Crusian nobles. Aside from maintaining regular port operations, he seemed to only send messengers to contact the northern nobles and then focused on studying that useless stone.
Thinking of this, Flour felt a sense of frustration, feeling that this Lord in front of her had been idling ever since Cold Fir Territory was established. Although Brendel was from Erluin and had accomplished quite a bit, she merely considered it luck—if not for Antinna and Miss Romaine’s abilities, it would have been uncertain whether the territory would run smoothly. She had hoped that after he became the Earl of the Kingdom and concurrently served as the leader of the Embassy, he would be a bit more restrained, but unexpectedly, he was still this way—doing nothing and just passing tasks to his subordinates. Such a Lord could probably be managed even by her.
Besides, he was a traveling mage, the actual ruler in her view, which felt a world apart from her ideal master. Flour couldn’t help but grunt heavily, “What else can they do? The fleet hangs over their heads; can those useless ones even think of a rebellion? They must be clamoring to see you, my Lord. In their view, you are probably the only one who will listen.”
Hearing the girl’s grievances, Brendel forced a smile and shook his head, but the weakness and incompetence of those southern nobles still surprised him. He had expected them to at least be a bit more resolute; he never expected Earl Orkans would simply want to “negotiate” with him.
“Well, since they want to negotiate,” Brendel coldly snickered in his heart, “then let it be as they wish.”
He raised his head, “Where are they?”
“Right outside. They have elected a few representatives and wish to negotiate with you,” Flour answered with a stern expression.
“Negotiate?” Brendel found it somewhat amusing, “What do they intend to negotiate? What do they want to discuss?”
Flour sneered, “According to them, since the Jotungrund and Lionmen’s armies have already submitted to the Empire, what remains is the Empire’s civil war. The Lord is no longer suited to intervene. They suggest that you return the fleet to Erluin—of course, you can still proceed to the imperial capital as the Ambassador.”
“Oh? What about the Silver Queen claiming to be the Dark Dragon?” Brendel intentionally inquired.
Flour’s expression became somewhat peculiar at once. It was evident she was struggling to suppress a look of disdain as she replied, “They say that this matter is too absurd and could be a rumor.”
“Ha ha,” Brendel couldn’t help but chuckle, “what a rumor.”
He paused and tapped the table, “In that case, let them in to see me.”
“Alright—” Flour blurted out, then froze, craning her neck to stare at her Lord, “My Lord, what did you just say?”
“Isn’t it clear what I said? Let them in to see me!”
“But…”
The Wild Elf girl wanted to say, isn’t it true that you refuse to see people usually? In fact, this was the very source of her earlier anger. The wavering of the southern nobles hadn’t occurred just yesterday; they had long attempted to negotiate with Brendel more than once. However, Brendel had always ignored them and didn’t even bother to restrain them, appearing to adopt a hands-off approach and claiming to avoid causing too much chaos in Fatan Port.
She had thought today would be another similar handling, yet unexpectedly, her capricious Lord seemed to be in the mood to see these people. In fact, from Flour’s perspective, what was there to see in these people? The best solution would be to capture the most vocal among them, to set an example, and with their cowardice, it was unlikely they would stir up any significant trouble. Thinking of this, she couldn’t help but look at her Lord in suspicion.
Brendel waved his hand, “There’s no ‘buts’. Go and bring in that guest who arrived at the castle yesterday.”
That guest? Flour blinked, recalling the person. That fellow appeared to be from the northern regions of Ludwig. At first glance, he somewhat resembled a Crusian, but he also bore a strong bloodline of Fanzan, so to put it simply, he was a mixed-blood. When he arrived at the castle, he introduced himself as a messenger of the Black Legion, donned in a heavy cloak that obscured most of his face, appearing rather reticent. However, Flour remembered her Lord had treated him very cautiously.
She wasn’t a gossipy woman, so upon hearing Brendel’s instructions, she merely nodded silently and turned to leave. But just then, Brendel called her back once more.
“Wait,” Brendel said, “I didn’t ask you to come in just to handle those nobles.”
“What do you mean?” the Wild Elf girl turned to ask.
Brendel lightly tapped his forehead, as if pondering for a moment before replying, “Just right, handle both matters at once. You should contact Charles and tell him to come to me right now. Can you find him? Tell him I want to see Antinna now, immediately.”
Flour nodded silently.
……
Cold Fir Territory, Valhalla Fortress—
“Miss Shi Do, Your Highness the Crown Prince.”
Antinna observed the Imperial Prince and Miss Scholar emerging from the hall, getting up to salute. The Crown Prince was followed by several young men from the Defeated Knight Brigade, who had been held under house arrest here for several months—over a dozen of them, all fully armed, ready for action. These young nobles of the new generation from Cruz seemed much more composed after months of tempering, perhaps because they had grown accustomed to life in Valhalla. For a local lord from a small place, they did not consider it necessary to lower themselves. However, having a lord like Brendel, who possessed a fantastical fortress like Valhalla, they certainly could not regard him simply as an Earl from Erluin.
In fact, after spending these months together, they had roughly grasped Brendel’s strength—at least what was on the surface, was enough to command respect. Even some of the quite powerful de facto earls within the Empire likely wouldn’t match this “small Erluin earl.” Consequently, their respect extended to Brendel’s assistant—or advisor, Antinna.
But that was about it; even before the genuine royal family of Erluin, it was doubtful they could exhibit such a respectful attitude, after all, it was merely the royal family of a small kingdom. Many small countries like Erluin along the Empire’s borders were vassal states of the Empire.
Yet Crown Prince Rainwright himself remained as silent and taciturn as he had a few months ago, rarely conversing with outsiders. With a slight nod to Antinna’s salute, he frowned slightly as if constantly pondering a difficult problem, his eyes reflecting an unfathomable glint. He did not speak, but Miss Scholar Shi Do had already taken the lead in asking, “Miss Antinna, your sudden request to see us—Is there something urgent? Has there been a change in the situation within the Empire?”
Antinna silently appraised the Cruz nobles and nodded, “There are some changes, but that is not the main purpose of today.”
She paused for a moment, “General Mangolov has already contacted my lord.”
“Oh?”
This sentence seemed to ignite the wildness in Rainwright’s heart, causing him to suddenly lift his head, his previously deep gaze brightening.
The time has come—
