Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Eight: Light and Dark (Twenty-Five)
It was a massacre of epic proportions.
Over twenty years ago, after the Northern Region people signed the “Peace Treaty” with the royal family, many families that had participated in the Rose War were ordered not to have any form of private armed forces. The largest among them, the city of Ulan, and the Rose family residing within, didn’t even have a basic defense force left. Their entire guard had dwindled to just over a hundred people, while the two thousand soldiers still in the city had been sent from the southern side, loyal to the royal faction.
Once the Empress lost power and the royal family began its decline, these soldiers no longer served with dedication. On the first day that Duke Lex’s army arrived outside the city, a messenger was sent from within to deliver a letter of surrender and inform him that by midnight, the head of the Rose family would be presented at the gates, just like that.
There was no need to waste a single soldier.
However, Duke Lex was well aware of their wicked intention—if he followed their plan, by the time they infiltrated the city at night, the Rose family’s wealth would be all but gone.
Murdering one’s entire family was something you had to do yourself to feel assured about.
The siege only lasted less than two days before the city fell. Duke Lex and his son led two thousand light cavalry through the city, rampaging their way to Rose Castle, wiping out everyone alive, including the servants, stripping the bl**d-stained family crest from their walls, and ordering heads to be severed and displayed outside the city—a message for the people, and most importantly, for the Church: these were unrepentant rebels, and they had brought this upon themselves.
Thank the foolish woman. She killed her husband, giving him more than enough reason.
Duke Lex plundered just enough assets to barely sustain the Iron Guard’s expenses—though it could only last a couple more months, it relieved his immediate concerns and temporarily quelled the restive hearts of those around him.
After garnering his troops, it was time to brace for action.
At this juncture, the most important thing was determining the next steps. Duke Lex had to ensure that while capturing Ulan, all proceedings in the royal city went smoothly; otherwise, all of this would be for naught—this operation involved considerable risks.
But Duke Lex had never been afraid of risk.
He had spent his entire life gambling—betting his very life on outcomes, leading up to the triumphs he enjoyed today. He looked down on those who worried endlessly, carefully considering their every move, those who exhausted themselves seeking “stability.”
Most of them accomplished nothing.
Soon after, Duke Lex received news from the royal city: the disaster had ended, Boswell had completely vanished. The assassins’ plans were proceeding smoothly.
It was all the will of heaven.
But before he could celebrate, a summons from the church tribunal landed before him.
The letter contained only a few terse lines, lacking specifics, but Duke Lex knew full well that his assistance to the black-robed figures had been exposed.
The church was surprisingly swift in its actions; he was a step behind those clerics after all. As such, whether the Empress could successfully lay the blame became irrelevant.
In that case, why not gamble once more?
That night, Duke Lex called upon his son and several trusted confidants to discuss his audacious plan. They talked the entire night, and by dawn, the details were set. Not wasting a moment, he divided his forces, personally leading over ten thousand Iron Guards southward toward the now defenseless royal city, while his confidants led their troops around the Northern mountains to sneak up on White Rock City—the foundation of the Leikmon family.
Duke Lex was aware that that old codger, Leikmon, had become a pillar in Elizabeth’s new advisory council and had nearly withdrawn all troops stationed in White Smoke City—clearly, he had heard through some channel about Duke Lex’s impending siege.
However, this meant there were hardly any defenders left in White Rock City.
Old Leikmon likely believed he wouldn’t do anything about White Rock City, lest his entire family face the church’s severe punishments.
And he was right.
But what if…
White Rock City had dealings with heretics?
Suddenly, the situation became entirely different.
Upon realizing the identities of the black-robed figures, Duke Lex had invested considerable effort into studying doctrine, and one crucial point was that any nation or people blessed by the divine had the right and obligation to participate in the eradication of heretics and the threats they posed, and would garner the wealth and honors deserved from their efforts.
So, Duke Lex planned to frame the Leikmon family for the crimes.
As for how to do it, he had it all figured out.
Next, he led his ten thousand Iron Guards tirelessly onward, aiming to reach the royal city as swiftly as possible, during which he also sent a message to Fortress Fleisk to have the ten thousand Iron Guards stationed there fill in—but with a delay.
Waiting until after his capture, to be precise.
Yes, Duke Lex had fully prepared himself for capture. As they approached the royal city, he had the Iron Guards stationed fifty miles outside, while he and a few assassins, riding Horned Horses, entered the city first—he was going to present a grand gift for Elizabeth on her birthday.
As luck would have it, he crashed the banquet.
That night, he arrived with disguised assassins alongside the president of the Iron Guards—his other foolish nephew—a ruse designed to mislead Elizabeth and the royal family’s puppets. They attended the banquet, presenting gifts from the Rose family to the proud Her Majesty the Queen.
But before that, he had arranged to meet the black-robed accomplices who remained in the city at a pre-agreed location.
After a lengthy discussion, things unfolded as he had anticipated.
Upon reaching the palace, he immediately unveiled his gift—though Elizabeth maintained her composure, Duke Lex could see the confusion in her heart at that moment. She would likely disregard everything and throw herself into a cell.
Or perhaps she would be executed on the spot…
But that was Duke Lex’s grand gamble.
He wagered that no matter her fury, Elizabeth would not act without consequences or disregard the safety of a million subjects; she wouldn’t let anger cloud her judgement—in fact, the more intelligent and rational a person, the easier they were to predict. The real danger lay with petty thugs who would stab you for a handful of coins.
Duke Lex won his bet.
Though there were some unexpected turns along the way—he hadn’t anticipated running into the little princess from Shanter Castle, Skarlij’s daughter.
He was surprised to find out how close she was to Elizabeth and even more stunned to realize that the seemingly delicate little girl was none other than the newly minted Pope Knight, Silvya, who had arrived with the silver gleam.
This was disclosed to him by the Empress in her letter.
And his two clueless fools seemed to have already gotten into quite the conflict with her.
d*mn. That nitwit had the same expression as a mouse confronted by a cat upon seeing such a feeble girl, making Duke Lex extremely embarrassed.
Though embarrassing, it neatly suited his scheme.
Duke Lex didn’t divulge to his foolish nephew the purpose of his visit. Otherwise, with his pig-headedness, he’d surely give himself away to Elizabeth in no time. Therefore, the more frightened he acted, the better.
But he hadn’t expected him to be scared to the point of losing his mind.
When that dolt suddenly lashed out at them, Duke Lex’s heart nearly stopped—he hadn’t foreseen such chaos and genuinely feared dying stupidly in the palace.
Fortunately, he didn’t.
When old Leikmon ordered that he be seized, Duke Lex could no longer hold back his laughter.
Everything was going smoothly.
As for that foolish nephew’s life or d*ath… he didn’t care. A dead fool was no loss, and if anything, it was better that he was gone.
With his demise, Elizabeth would trust everything she saw even more.
Duke Lex intentionally leaked information about the Iron Guards stationed outside the city to further confuse Elizabeth and old Leikmon. He wanted them to believe he still had backup, that these reinforcements were closely tied to the Iron Guards outside the city, intimately linked to the events of the night—they would remain fixated on him and those Iron Guards outside.
But they were nothing but bait.
And his real backup was far in White Rock City.
She wouldn’t suspect it.
Elizabeth would never imagine that the usually cautious Duke Lex would take such a risk.
He intended to exploit her cognitive bias.
By the time she learned what was happening in White Rock City, it would already be too late. And even if he was imprisoned within the city, opportunities to connect with the guards or the black-robed accomplices would abound.
As for that little Pope Knight…
She was only sixteen, far too inexperienced to worry about.
Even if she wielded significant power, what of it? Duke Lex was already well-versed in the doctrines and knew the restrictions involving Pope Knights; that little girl, no matter how close she was to Elizabeth, wouldn’t be able to act decisively when the time came.
Next, he just needed to wait.
Wait for things to settle in White Rock City, for old Leikmon to personally come seeking him.
He didn’t have to wait long.
One quiet night, old Leikmon appeared draped in a cloak meant to conceal.
At first, he was furious, trembling with rage, hurling the vilest insults at himself—Duke Lex didn’t mind; he merely smiled at his antics.
He was the victor, while only the weak and the defeated would lash out in such a frenzy.
Once he had finished his tirade, Duke Lex slowly laid out his arrangement.
He informed old Leikmon that all family members, confidants, caretakers, soldiers, and their families in White Rock City had been captured by the Iron Guards, totaling a staggering three thousand. He intended to use these people as human shields, pushing them all the way to the gates of the royal city.
“You want to defend the city? Then have the soldiers inside draw their bows, raise their blades, and k*ll their compatriots… and your own kin.”
“If you can manage that, I will concede.”
Duke Lex still vividly recalled the crazed yet powerless look on old Leikmon’s face after he delivered that line.
Old Leikmon spat at him, cursing himself as a “madman,” a “beast,” bashing his fists bloody against the wall, voicing the pitiful wails of the defeated, before storming off in fury.
Duke Lex relished such scenes.
He had long known old Leikmon’s temperament, realizing he held his family members dearer than life and honor combined, and would never refuse him.
Sure enough, days later, old Leikmon came to seek him again, looking significantly more haggard, his face even more sallow than Duke Lex’s in prison, his eyes sunken—yet his attitude had changed markedly.
He was willing to talk.
Duke Lex had won his gamble once more.
Next, they were secretly refining their plan to assassinate Elizabeth in that dark, cramped cell.
This was not a particularly difficult scheme.
Elizabeth was powerful, intelligent, but she held a fatal flaw—she was too young.
Youth means inexperience. There were many things she had never seen, never gone through, and what she had gleaned from books was far from enough. Elizabeth had never understood warfare; previously, she lacked a good mentor, but now was one, albeit a very misguided one in old Leikmon.
Thus, the moment old Leikmon began to lead her astray in her unfamiliar territory, everything would spiral beyond Her Majesty’s expectations.
This wasn’t a gap that intelligence could bridge.
Some things, due to ignorance, lack enough preparation. And without adequate mental readiness, one would find themselves utterly stunned when faced with the exceeding reality.
That moment would be their opportunity.
And all Leikmon had to do was, before the moment arrived, repeatedly assure her that there were only about twenty thousand troops outside and that taking a city defended by nearly the same number was utterly impossible. The provisions, salaries, morale, and hearts of the soldiers would eventually sap the Iron Guards dry. The defenders had no need to risk leaving the city to engage the enemy, incurring needless losses.
Meanwhile, Duke Lex’s side would also notify the folks outside to play their part well. Ensure the siege repeatedly failed, one failure after another, spreading rumors that reinforcements wouldn’t come, that the Iron Guards were falling apart, even take some lives to maintain the charade until the enemy believed it.
Then, in that moment, they would join forces with the arriving reinforcements, pushing all captives toward the royal city.
This of course wasn’t enough.
Elizabeth was a Pope Knight, wielding unimaginable powers of Order; even when unsettled, ordinary soldiers would have considerable difficulty inflicting harm upon her.
Therefore, Duke Lex introduced old Leikmon to a few acquaintances.
Those black-robed allies—disgusting heretics.
Though detestable, they possessed remarkable power. Importantly, they merely sought to achieve their ends and wouldn’t hesitate to d*e for their goals.
And their goals coincidentally aligned with Duke Lex’s—these individuals also wanted Elizabeth dead. The prior disaster in the royal city hadn’t killed her, so the opportunity was singular.
When Duke Lex first arrived in the royal city, he had enjoyed a pleasant conversation with them. The only point of contention was that these ruffians not only wanted Elizabeth dead but also aimed to demolish St. Zayeli Cathedral. Or rather, that was their ultimate goal; they intended to plunge the royal city into chaos, even strive to unseat the Holy Church’s unshakeable rule.
Those heretics appeared to have significant movements underway in other places, seeking to distract the Church’s attention.
At that time, Duke Lex hadn’t committed outright because he was uncertain about the development of events ahead.
But now, it was time to provide those people with a satisfying answer.
However, old Leikmon understood neither the identities nor intentions of those individuals, nor did he realize they were not even worthy of being called human. Duke Lex only told him they were high-priced assassins he hired; only they could genuinely harm Elizabeth.
Thus, those heretics transformed into old Leikmon’s personal guards. They stuck closely to him, while old Leikmon always stayed close to Elizabeth.
With that, everything was in place.
