368 - Regressor of the Fallen Family

Chapter 368 - The Death of the Commander of the Western Seventh Army and the Blame for the Second Prince's Disappearance. The imperial army stationed at the eastern gate of Nobians had a clear pretext for their actions. However— "The Holy Kingdom is a sacred place that follows the will of the divine. We reject any interference from worldly nations. If you must investigate the incident, only the representative shall be permitted entry!" The resonating voice of the representative from the Holy Kingdom echoed across the plains, firm and unwavering. To those listening, the statement was nothing short of bewildering. "This is practically a declaration of war, isn't it? Has the Holy Kingdom finally lost its mind?" expressed Triss Hornsby, his voice dripping with disbelief. "Indeed, the new saintess might be young, but it seems she can't foresee the near future," Galen Dikaide remarked, equally incredulous. Refusing a perfect justification like this might mean the Empire could invade the Holy Kingdom with full force, and there would be nothing to say about it. In their minds, the wisest course for the Holy Kingdom was to accept the army's visit and then decisively prove their innocence through a thorough investigation. 'Of course, we wouldn't let it come to that.' By rejecting outright, it was almost as if they were admitting their own guilt. This led directly to a path of confrontation and imminent war, leaving no room for uncertainty. But there was a problem. "…With our current numbers, completely occupying Nobians is impossible." The army of ten thousand was meant to solidify the Empire's influence within Nobians after entering the city, not for conducting a full-scale occupation. Moreover, the standing forces within Nobians numbered around fifty thousand. Although the elite forces from the Royal Central Army, Hornsby, and Dikaide's families were among the Empire's finest, the Holy Kingdom's forces were just as formidable. Their numbers couldn’t easily contend with forces outnumbering them fivefold. "Can't we avoid immediate action? We have a perfect case here, so all it means is we'll have less time to negotiate internally. His Majesty might even see this as favorable," Galen suggested, but Triss's expression remained somber. Typically, that might be true, but there were unknown variables others weren't aware of. ‘Is the second prince alive? If the Black Serpents really took him…’ Preparing for war isn’t child’s play, and it couldn't end in mere days. What if, during that time, the missing second prince resurfaced? And claimed outrageous things? ‘Like asserting the Emperor tried to kill him…’ That was the worst-case scenario imaginable. Moreover, the ambiguous nature of the previous information made decision-making difficult. ‘I need to find out if the kidnapping occurred during that operation or if it happened earlier.’ If it were the latter, it wouldn’t matter even if the second prince were alive. But first things first, there was something crucial to do. "…I need to establish contact with Jerome." "But, as I've mentioned, we haven't received any communications. They say he's in critical condition and requires rest..." "That's according to the Holy Kingdom's account, right?" "…Yes." "It might not be his own will. I'll go in myself." "Your Grace!?" "You, lead the troops and await further orders." Galen showed surprise, but Triss was resolute. The Emperor's secret with him was not one he could share with anyone. Accompanied only by a small number of escort knights, Triss approached the city gates. "I am Duke Triss Hornsby of the Empire, accompanied by six escort knights. We seek entry to the Holy City to investigate this unfortunate incident!" His voice boomed authoritatively. The representative of the Empire leading an army of ten thousand. Triss Hornsby was known as the continent's greatest swordsman, his fame unparalleled, causing quite the stir even atop the city walls. "That, that famed swordsman?" "What do you mean the continent, you mean the Empire." "They're the same, aren't they?" "No way! The greatest is Commander Harmon!" "Enough! Anyway, thats really the ‘Sword Soul’?" The unexpected appearance of such a figure caused a commotion among the ranks of the paladins within the Holy Kingdom's command, unsure of what to do. "Not even a messenger, but the Sword Soul himself?" "Crazy, what are they thinking?" "What should we do...?" Only one person had the authority to quell such a commotion. "Open the gate for him." "Commander!" "This was expected. Only the person has changed." With the calm order from the Holy Sword, the paladins quickly set into action. The heavy, reinforced eastern gate of Nobians began to open slowly, revealing knights donned in pristine white armor, standing in formation. Even at a fleeting glance, nearly a thousand knights exuded a formidable aura. The Sword Soul couldn't help but be impressed. ‘Indeed, this is the pride of the Holy Kingdom, the Paladin Order.’ If one were to gather all paladins dispersed around the world, it was estimated their numbers would exceed ten thousand, forming the world's largest order under a single name. Moreover, in the Holy Kingdom, they were revered as the highest order, the pinnacle of Holy Kingdom's military might, and naturally, upon facing them in person, such admiration was justified. ‘Even the lowest-ranked knights are quite skilled. They not only possess martial proficiency but can also wield divine powers, making them a challenging opponent for ordinary knights.’ Triss was certain that an order of equal size could be effortlessly crushed by this formidable group. Despite having adversaries like these, merely standing in amazement would be inappropriate, so Triss quickly composed himself and proceeded into the city. He met the fervent gazes welcoming him with a faint, amused smile. "Is this how the Holy City welcomes its guests?" With that light remark, an overwhelming aura spread, causing sweat to trickle down the faces of the nearby paladins. It felt as if a giant was pressing down on their shoulders. Using sheer will, they forced their nearly buckling knees to stand firm, glancing around to find their fellow knights were facing similar difficulties. The nearly hundred paladins lined at the frontline, who directly faced this aura, were struck with the same thought simultaneously. – What kind of monster is this? As the front lines seemed on the verge of collapsing into chaos, displaying an embarrassing spectacle, someone stepped in to neutralize the atmosphere. "Every guest deserves a worthy reception, wouldn't you agree?" A man of unassuming appearance emerged amidst the ranks of the paladins. The moment Triss laid eyes on him, a spark of recognition flashed across his gaze. Standing slightly over 180 cm, he was rather short among the knights, with a face that seemed ordinary at a glance, yet he was the man who had effortlessly dispelled Triss's overwhelming aura. There couldn't possibly be another like him in the Holy Kingdom. "Are you Sir Harmon, the one they call the Divine Sword?" Triss inquired, his voice laced with mild admiration and certainty. Harmon acknowledged the unexpected cordiality with a slight nod. "Indeed, it is an honor to meet the renowned Sword Soul of the continent." "The honor is mine as well. The Sword of the Divine... I assumed you'd be a frog in a well, leaning on the Holy Kingdom's reputation," Triss responded, appreciating the encounter anew. Even at a mere glance, Harmon's aura seemed comparable to his own. Moreover, as a paladin wielding divine power, Triss couldn't fathom the depth of his strength that went beyond mere mortal comprehension. Could this man before him perhaps surpass him? That unsettling thought crossed Triss's mind briefly before he dismissed it. ‘No, certainly not.’ Aura users typically age rapidly once they hit their limits, their prime retreating with their youth. Yet, here he was, maintaining his peak abilities in an aged appearance. This was proof of a transcendent state beyond the limits of regular aura, an achievement made possible by his profound understanding of forza, the power of life itself. Thus, he took pride in the realm he had achieved. ‘He’s in his late forties, isn’t he?’ Triss had read about the uniqueness of the Holy Aura, but he couldn't bring himself to think he was lacking by comparison. Yet, for someone in their forties to rival his abilities was an extraordinary feat; hence, Triss found himself expressing his admiration. "…Sir Harmon, your capabilities are astonishing." Receiving praise repeatedly, Harmon found it challenging to maintain a hard stance. "I am equally pleased to meet you, Lord Triss. However, it's unfortunate given our current circumstances," Harmon replied. "Indeed so. But standing here in stalemate is pointless. Could you arrange for me to meet with my disciple?" Triss requested. "…Of course." The moment Harmon agreed, the paladins stepped aside in unison to clear a path. While lacks political authority, the Holy Paladin Leader holds unequivocal command over military matters within the Holy Kingdom. Harmon's influence, noted for his unparalleled capability and prestige among historical leaders, was readily apparent. Triss absorbed this display, his expression notably stiffening once more. * * * "…What on earth happened?" Upon first seeing his disciple swathed in bandages, Triss was struck with dismay, but after a silent observation, his voice turned icy. “They said you were gravely wounded, yet here you are in such a state?!” Rather than consoling his injured pupil, he was furious. Jerome, anticipating such a reaction, closed his single eye tightly. "…As expected, I can't hide from you, Master." "You fool! What madness drove you to this?!" Jerome knelt, resigning himself to face his master's wrath, as Triss stamped his foot in irritation, unleashing a surge of red aura. "Wha—!" Clang! Startled paladins unsheathed their swords, but Harmon raised a hand to restrain his subordinates. The red aura merely formed a barrier encircling the Sword Soul and his disciple. ‘A conversation not fit for others to hear, but using this much aura just for a soundproof barrier?’ It likely meant the energy conversion rate from forza to aura was ridiculously low, or that he had an abundance of forza. ‘…Or both.’ Controlling energy with such precision for seemingly magical feats required both. From the outset, it was apparent to Harmon that Triss was indeed a monstrous figure. ‘How would I fare against him?’ Since earning the grandiose title of the Divine Sword, there had been no one to challenge him. Yet, in front of such a peerless swordsman, his competitive spirit stirred wildly. But regardless... ‘It's not sensible to act recklessly.’ The delicate situation facing the Holy Kingdom, and his own position, made it difficult to unsheath his sword without careful consideration. Letting out a sigh at the complexities, Harmon returned his attention to the ongoing dialogue behind the enchanted barrier. “Barros knew about it? How?” “It seems the saintess tipped him off.” "A saintess… Young priestess, I had underestimated her..." Triss closed his eyes tightly at the revelation from his disciple. Indeed, the emperor's plan was not difficult to infer if one considered the empire's self-interest alone. Nevertheless, it was hard to believe, even for someone with basic moral sensibilities, that a father would spill his son's blood. Especially for a saintess of all people, without a hint of corruption, to contemplate such an act was even more unfathomable. "Perhaps those chosen by the divine are indeed extraordinary," Triss muttered to himself, drawing a wrong conclusion with a sigh. Yet, more painful than this was his disciple’s decision. Triss looked again at his disciple. For an aura user who reached the pinnacle of mastery to be unable to move due to injuries meant one of three things: truly lethal injuries, wounds inflicted by aura, or... Self-inflicted harm. “Did you think you could fool me?” Jerome knew his master was not one to be deceived. Whether the injuries were self-inflicted or deliberate, his master could infer the state of things from the wounds. “I never intended to deceive you, Master. I only meant to evade external scrutiny,” Jerome admitted, and Triss bit his lip, deeply vexed. "Alright, then. Explain yourself. Even if the prince had an inkling, the mission was something you could've accomplished. Did you choose the prince over His Majesty?" "…I acted according to my conscience and a knight's duty." "A knight's foremost duty is to their sovereign’s will!" "My liege is Prince Barros." The unhesitating response from his disciple pained Triss even more. "What on earth were you thinking...! What were you thinking, you fool! Do you realize you've disrupted the Empire's grand designs!?" "I'm sorry, Master." Triss could only clutch at his chest in frustration. After taking a deep, calming breath, he met his disciple's gaze. "I must report this truthfully to His Majesty." "I've prepared myself for that outcome." "You stubborn fool! If you wish to live, you should at least ask for mercy!" "His Majesty values talents. I believe he would rather send me to serve as a common soldier than take my life." "You really must be out of your mind. Do you think that's so easily done...!" Lament was all he could manage, but deep down, Triss acknowledged there was a real possibility his disciple might be right. On one significant condition, that is. "The Empire's greatest aspiration could have been achieved with ease. The only way for you to survive after ruining it is by presenting a solution. You understand that, don't you?" "…Yes." "Then tell me. How can we still secure the Holy Kingdom with the assumption that the second prince is alive?" "There is one more assumption needed." "What?" "First of all…" – We shall meet again. And the way for you to survive is… Recalling the last words left by his liege, Jerome focused his remaining eye on his master and continued calmly.