Fugal chuckled a few times, then asked with some doubt, "But what's a bit strange is that Fiocha doesn't usually seem to be very knowledgeable about these financial and business matters..."
Conchuber paused, then, following Vergal's train of thought, said, "That's his father, Fergus is helping him... no..."
Everyone in the kingdom knew that Fergus usually preferred leisure and entertainment and rarely concerned himself with worldly affairs; otherwise, he would never have given up the throne in the first place.
Conchier lowered his head and pondered, "Then who exactly is helping Fioch run the arena?"
Fugal looked up at the ceiling and said casually, "I heard that the prisoner named Boyle has been quite active in the 'Red Circle' lately."
Full of doubts, Conchieber sat back on his throne, rested his chin on his hand, and said, "Tell me in detail."
"He gathered a large group of cowardly gladiators, designed combat moves, arranged combat details, and used fake gladiatorial combat to deceive the audience in order to win people's hearts."
After a moment's pause, waiting for the king to process the news, Fugal said softly, "There are about four hundred gladiators in the entire arena who have been recruited by him."
Conchierber was startled and stood up from his chair, shouting, "Four hundred men? Shouldn't Fioch be in charge of regulating this?!"
Fugal lowered his eyelids and drawled, "Yes, why doesn't Lord Fioch do something about it?"
Sweat slowly seeped from the king's head.
“Could it be… impossible!” Conchierber shouted, refuting his deepest fears: “Forgors loved my mother deeply, even giving up the throne for her. He would not betray me!”
Folgal shrugged. "Lord Folgs may not be interested in the throne, but what about his son, Fioch?"
Conchierber's body froze in place.
Royal bloodline has always been his greatest taboo.
Back then, Fergus, the elder brother of the former king, abdicated the throne for love and, at the queen's request, passed the crown to her illegitimate son, Conchieber. This act itself aroused much opposition in the Kingdom of Ulster.
People questioned how someone without legitimate royal blood could sit on the throne!
Therefore, Fioch's desire to seize the throne is not only seen as reasonable by others, but will also receive the support of most people.
This "younger brother," who has already gained the upper hand in terms of righteousness and legitimacy, only lacks one thing—an army.
Boyle's emergence precisely filled this gap.
Thinking this, cold sweat soaked the back of Conchierber's shirt. He roared, "Immediately remove Fioch from his position as gladiator! Send him home!"
“Your Majesty, this is inappropriate.” Fugal stroked his gray beard and said calmly, “Fioch has not made any mistakes. If you suddenly transfer him from his post, others will say that you are jealous of his talent.”
Like an enraged lion, Conchierber roared at Vorgal, "Then tell me what I should do?! Tell me!"
"To extinguish a blazing campfire, pouring water is not the best way; removing the wood that serves as fuel is the only way to solve the problem at its root."
"What's the meaning?!"
"The only force that can provide Fiocha with military power is the 'Red Circle' gladiatorial arena. What we need to do is eliminate the gladiators' leaders and turn them back into a disorganized mess."
Conchierber slumped back onto his throne and slowly repeated Vorgal's suggestion: "Eliminate the gladiators' leader?"
The latter looked at the king and nodded slightly, saying, "At the end of this month, to celebrate the victory in the south, the Connaught delegation will come to the kingdom. We can prepare a gladiatorial contest for them during the celebration, a gladiatorial contest that can never be won..."
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