Chapter 109: Negotiations Outside the Holy City (Part 2)
“Here is Beiyard Williams.”
Beiyard wore a calm expression, saying nothing as the man next to him introduced, “And standing behind him, we have Lord Meteor Shower and her Star Association, Lord Claw from the Fusel Parish, the Owls guarding the towers of the Empire and the Kingdom.”
He paused for dramatic effect.
“Next, Mr. Beiyard Williams will fully represent the Saint George Messenger and our alliance to discuss a peace initiative with the esteemed Council members.”
As the man finished speaking, Beiyard dramatically threw back his cloak, took two steps forward, and opened his mouth, ready to deliver his speech.
But he was suddenly interrupted by a voice that seemed to echo from a massive stone statue: “Isn’t it the real Saint George? Cough.”
That voice had an oddly weak and frail quality, like that of an elderly man.
Accompanied by a feeble cough, the voice continued without waiting for anyone’s response: “Ah, such an important occasion and he doesn’t show up, sending a little kid to speak for him… Is that sincere?”
“Or maybe even now that I’m running the Temple Church, that old coot still doesn’t trust us? Afraid we’ll pull a fast one, so he hides behind the curtains? Hmm, fitting for his cowardly and cautious personality.”
“Archbishop Hoffman.”
Despite the mocking tone from the luminous voice, Beiyard remained unflustered and stated seriously, “What matters is not whether I or my grandpa stands here today, but whether the demands of the Temple Church, the Williams Family, and our allies can be smoothly met.”
“I believe you understand that this meeting will become a significant turning point for the Western Continent and all of humanity’s rise and fall. Given the circumstances, we’re all under immense pressure, and to be able to call for everyone to remain calm and facilitate this dialogue is no small feat. So please, Archbishop, let’s set aside any petty issues and dive into the topic at hand.”
“I can assure you that everything I propose and promise today will be the responsibility of the Williams Family, of course, expressing my grandpa’s wishes too.”
The young man spoke neither too humbly nor too arrogantly, maintaining a composed demeanor, standing tall with an air of authority that he didn’t quite have a year ago when he was climbing walls to buy pastries for Peilo.
“Hmm…”
After he finished, the other side fell silent, as if contemplating their options.
After a brief moment, Beiyard let out a nearly imperceptible sigh of relief.
He wasn’t at ease, of course, because the task he bore was to hold secret talks with the Temple Church, already deeply divided internally, led by Archbishop Hoffman, who was gradually gaining the upper hand in discourse as part of the “Anti-Pope Faction.”
In this fortress hall, after several private contacts, this was their first official dialogue, with the aim of preliminarily discerning each other’s true demands.
They were preparing for a potential united front to entirely overthrow Pope Angel’s secular rule, and achieving this was certainly no easy task.
But they didn’t need to decide everything today; the initial discussions were more about listening to what the other party had to say.
However, Beiyard noticed that the luminescence on the other side showed no intentions of speaking first.
So he whispered a few words to the person beside him, looking up at the statue again, and stated, “Then let me outline our initial conditions.”
The young man paused for a moment, cleared his throat.
It seemed there were no objections from the other side: “Cough, let’s hear it.”
Beiyard nodded, pondering for a moment.
“We need to know the true situation regarding the Underground Prison’s overseer, Lord Simon, and his punishing officers. Hearing his voice would be best.”
As soon as he finished speaking, the Grim Claw disciples behind him stirred restlessly.
“Tell those turtles hiding in the city!”
“If Lord Simon loses a hair, I’ll wipe out your Council—”
“Shut up!”
The threats were quickly silenced. Beiyard paid no mind to those distractions, only to hear murmured exchanges from the glowing half of the room.
After a moment, a response came: “We’re sorry, but you cannot hear his voice for now.”
“Why?”
Beiyard asked, hearing the commotion behind him rise once more. He quickly raised his hand to signal silence.
“Three months ago, Pope Angel arrested him on charges of rebellion. He is currently locked up in a deep underground prison, and aside from the few executioners with him, likely the only other people who have the key are from the Choir of Saints. Unfortunately, they haven’t chosen to side with us.”
The voice behind the glow seemed to belong to someone else now.
“But—”
Before Beiyard could speak again, the person continued: “I can assure you in the name of the Temple Church that Lord Simon is still alive.”
“How can you confirm he’s still alive?” Beiyard inquired.
“Because this is the Temple Council, and anyone wanting to execute Simon must first gain our approval.” The other side sounded very confident.
Beiyard thought for a moment, accepting such an explanation.
He turned to calm the agitated Grim Claw disciples, then continued, “I must demand that, before entering the city, you confirm this matter by whatever means possible.”
“Alright.”
They readily agreed.
“Now, for the second point, I need you to provide a detailed list of the various factions within the Holy City, showing how many lean towards the Pope and how many lean towards you…”
Following that, Beiyard raised more than ten demands, quickly approaching the end of his speech.
“Finally, I demand that in the name of the Holy Church and the Temple, the honor of the Williams Family be restored, and the honor of my family’s patriarch, Saint George, be reinstated. I call for the charges against him to be dropped, and a public clarification to clear his name from those unfounded accusations.”
As soon as he finished, the other side hesitated.
Beiyard heard murmurs on their end, followed by a cough from one of them who spoke up: “For this particular matter, we cannot easily agree…” Before more words could follow, it sounded like someone had pulled them aside, whispering, the noise continuing while Beiyard’s group furrowed their brows, desperate to overhear.
But he could feel there was an anxious undertone in those voices from the Holy City.
“Okay.”
After a moment, someone finally spoke up, and the chaos reached a calm point.
The voice sounded resolute, leaving Beiyard’s companions, who had prepared many remarks, momentarily stunned. Then joy lit up their expressions.
Yet that brief joy quickly faded as a clear-headed individual leaned over to Beiyard and quietly reminded him: “Something’s fishy; they agreed too quickly.”
“I know.” Beiyard replied calmly.
