Chapter 539 The Lion Left the Forest
The banquet at Granston Castle City Hall began promptly at dusk, with everyone sharing the sumptuous game brought back to the kitchen by the Grand Duke and the Prince, and raising a toast to their duchy.
A minor incident occurred during the banquet when a musician walked up to the group and raised his glass of champagne.
"Gentlemen."
He began, his tone gentle and restrained, "I would like to dedicate a piano piece to our Duchy of Campbell. If you do not mind, please give me some inspiration."
After a brief silence, someone laughed and mentioned the sound of the white deer horn that had come from the hunting grounds that morning. An elderly noblewoman hummed the first two verses of the royal hymn.
Edward, who was talking to Colin, also stopped talking, and the two of them turned to look at the musician with great interest.
"Who is he?" Luo Yan asked casually.
Edward seemed to recognize him and said with a smile.
“Rian Walish, his father was a knight from the province of Dusk, who had a surname but no hereditary lands. His mother, on the other hand, came from a city that never sleeps.”
It seems this wasn't entirely an "improvisation," though the gentleman's inspiration probably hadn't been brewing for very long.
It probably happened last night or the night before last.
Luo Yan pondered for a moment, trying to make the question less boring.
"Thunder City?"
Edward smiled slightly.
"Nothing can be hidden from you."
After listening to everyone's opinions, the musician nodded, as if he had just casually noted them down, and then put the champagne aside.
He sat down at the piano bench, straightened his cuffs, and the moment his fingertips touched the keys, the melody began without hesitation.
The bass lines come first, short and restrained. His music, like a distant horn, disappears into the steam and then returns to the forest path.
The prelude's melody was not flamboyant, yet it unconsciously made people stop talking and immerse themselves in the intricate and varied sounds of the piano.
Then, a high note quietly intervened, breaking down and lengthening those two short sections of royal hymn... transforming them into a familiar yet unfamiliar tune.
People saw a train coming towards them, which, after crossing mountains and valleys, transformed into a line of soldiers marching forward.
After an exhilarating march, windmills became chimneys, flocks of sheep became spinning machines, and city walls were torn down to become streets paved with red bricks.
Standing at the edge of the dance floor, Xiaojiu couldn't help but show a surprised expression. She didn't expect the game to be so realistic, with so much thought put into even such a simple transition.
Qiqi, who was standing not far away, was just as surprised. She never expected that the barbaric human world would have such excellent artistic expression.
It seems the bookshelves at the Demon King Academy aren't entirely accurate. She finds it hard to imagine that these people would actually pull out her intestines and force her to eat them back...
She was an ordinary citizen of Shanghai, while they were just ordinary citizens from another city.
The piano piece concludes with restraint and solemnity, like a train pulling into a station, releasing the steam from the previous journey in preparation for the next leg of its journey.
When the last chord fell, the hall was silent.
Thunderous applause erupted as the musician rose to offer his greetings, sweeping through the entire banquet hall like a torrential downpour.
Little Eagle listened intently.
She hadn't listened to a complete piece of music in a long time, but she was surprised to find herself eating so well in "Natural Disaster Online".
This is truly an unexpected delight.
As the applause subsided, Mr. Rian Walish turned his gaze to the head of the table and continued speaking in a gentle and restrained voice.
"Your Majesty, if you like this piece of music, I hope you will bestow a name upon it."
All eyes turned to Edward, their eyes filled with curiosity. The nobles of Granston Castle, in particular, were eager to hear what kind of name this "infamous" white-haired duke could come up with.
Edward thought for a moment, then smiled and said.
"Let it be called... Forward, March of the March! May our principality be like our train, may our republic forever advance!"
A brief look of surprise crossed everyone's faces, especially the nobles and gentry of Granstonburg, whose faces were filled with disbelief.
Generally speaking, nobles of the continent of Os would not hesitate to use their own surnames to name classic pieces of music, or to commemorate personal bravery and legendary deeds.
Offering a piece of music composed by a musician to the principality... this is the first time.
Thunderous applause erupted again, accompanied by enthusiastic cheers, especially from the commoners who were invited to the aristocratic banquet for the first time.
For example, Horace.
These guys have no experience; they don't know that applause is the right thing to do at this point, which brings some of the tavern-like habits from Thunder City to the royal banquet.
"Long live the Duchy of Campbell!"
May our republic live on forever!
Seeing the excited crowd, Edward did not reprimand them for their rudeness, but instead smiled and returned their greeting with an elegant aristocratic bow.
Luo Yan couldn't help but recall his first encounter with Edward; the young Grand Duke was quite "rebellious."
Youyou, who was floating beside Luo Yan, sighed softly.
"Time flies..."
"yes."
Luo Yan nodded slightly, and this time he didn't shut Youyou up. He also temporarily immersed himself in the dream that belonged to mortals.
...
At the edge of the twilight forest, dusk slowly sank below the horizon.
The Lionheart Knights sentry watched the sunset in silence, while behind him stood the camp, its face even more somber than his own.
Dozens of large cooking pots were placed over the campfire, the firewood at the bottom of the pots crackling and simmering with a faint aroma of wheat, which was the only vibrant scent in this deathly silent camp.
The cook numbly swung his long ladle, the bottom of which struck the iron pot with a dull thud.
"Is this what you call dinner?" The young soldier stared at the wooden bowl in his hand, unable to help but curse, but ultimately swallowed his anger.
The oatmeal porridge inside was so thin it was outrageous, and as it swayed, it reflected a face with sunken eye sockets.
An old soldier sat on a stool, held the bowl up to his eyes, and twitched the corners of his mouth.
"Even if you're going to feed it to horses, you should add some more beans."
Be content.
The other veteran didn't look up, but quietly took a sip of hot porridge and offered a lukewarm reassurance to the man beside him.
"Look on the bright side, at least we're heading west."
With every step you take, you get one step closer to home.
Although judging from the letters sent home to the front lines, the situation in Roland City didn't seem too good either, it was still better than here.
Imagining the dishes from their hometown, everyone felt that the food in their bowls wasn't so hard to swallow; the aroma of bread and stew seemed to be right before their eyes.
If we could have another glass of pine nut wine, it would be a heavenly experience; they wouldn't give it to us even if the king offered his throne in exchange.
"...When I get back to Roland City, I'm going to 'Old Oak' and get myself drunk by the wine barrels, sleep for three days and three nights, and then go back!"
"Haha! Will you still be able to find your way home?"
"Ha, the smell of my wife roasting a goose, sizzling and dripping with oil, makes me feel like I can go back home with my eyes closed!"
go home.
This warm word is like a spark falling into a dry haystack, suddenly bringing lifelessness to the air.
The soldiers shifted their positions, moving closer to the fire. A glimmer of light appeared in their previously empty eyes, as if the roast goose were turning over the flames.
However, this glimmer of light was too faint in the increasingly deep evening breeze, and not enough to make everyone forget the suffering before them.
Someone threw a stone into the fire, watching as sparks burst open, rose into the air, and then quickly went out in the cold wind.
"I do not understand."
That was the young soldier who had just complained about dinner. He slammed his bowl down on his knees, his voice low but filled with a gnashing hatred.
“We’ve been protecting them all this way! If it weren’t for us, those mad dogs in the court would have already burned these country bumpkins at the stake as heretics! But what did they think of us?”
He recalled that when he passed through the village, none of the eyes hiding behind the window cracks were grateful; they were all looking at the devil with eyes full of hatred.
Especially those children, those things that grew up eating mud, actually confuse them with the court!
They should have been wiped out back then!
"It's obvious that the Campbellians lied to them."
The old soldier sitting next to him picked up where he left off, his indifferent tone like the porridge in the wooden bowl, merely filling the void in his conscience.
“Those cunning 'swamp people' have spread rumors… Just wait and see, once we’re gone, the real monsters will come, and they’ll be begging us to come back.”
Everyone nodded, temporarily swallowing their lingering guilt.
Unfortunately, with the Ottoman Empire watching, they couldn't disregard ancient laws and draw their swords against the "lizard race" in the swamp.
Otherwise, their iron hooves would surely crush the decaying land built upon the labyrinth, and they had no doubt that their Radiant Knights possessed such power!
After all, no matter how legendary the Light of Utawarerumono is, it's unlikely to be a match for a demigod...
In the tent at the very center of the camp, Hagmer de Valou sat with his head down, staring intently at the longsword in his hand.
The straight blade of the sword was still gleaming, but the reflected twilight could not illuminate the gloom hidden in his eyes.
He used to wield his sword with a pure heart, firmly believing that he represented the will of God. But now, every time he swings his sword, all that appears before him are faces filled with hatred.
Although this doubt about his mission wouldn't cause him to fall from the level he had already reached, the confusion that had piled up in his heart still made him feel weaker than ever before.
His sword seemed to have become heavier.
The loss of power sent a chill down Hagmer's spine. He couldn't help but doubt whether he could still defeat a fellow demigod-level demon from hell.
But the instant he had this thought, an even more blasphemous idea flashed through his mind—
Has Saint Sith abandoned the Kingdom of Ryan?!
"No……"
Hagermer abruptly closed his eyes, then took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the absurd thought that had been weighing on his mind.
This must be an illusion!
It must be because this place is too far from Roland City, and the church in Twilight City cannot hear God's gospel, and he has not prayed for too long!
Once he returns to Roland City, stands before the statue of Saint Laurent in the Cathedral, and pours out his troubles to the Bishop…
Everything will be alright!
The heavy footsteps crushed the dry branches on the ground. His adjutant reached out and lifted the tent flap, walking in from outside.
His subordinate, who had followed him for many years, was now filled with anxiety, and his resolute eyes were filled with incomprehension.
"Your Mightiness."
"What is it?" Hagmer answered without looking up, his back to him.
The adjutant took a deep breath and slowly began to speak.
"The officers are all talking about... the retreat order."
Hegermer did not respond.
Seeing the unmoved commander of the knights, the lieutenant couldn't help but take a step forward, his armor making a clanging sound.
"Your Excellency! You know that the nobles of the Holy Light Council are spineless! They have no regard for the kingdom, only for their own little patch of land! The Campbells in the south are eyeing us covetously, and once we withdraw from here, they will immediately join forces with us!"
"I suspect there's a traitor within our court; this is tantamount to handing over half the kingdom! I don't understand why our Emperor would—"
"Enough!"
A crisp clang interrupted the adjutant's angry rebuke. Hagmer sheathed his sword, turned around, and stared intently at his adjutant.
The air temperature dropped to freezing point.
The adjutant stared wide-eyed at his superior, speechless for a moment.
The pressure from a demigod is far beyond what ordinary superhumans can withstand. Even though his strength is not weak, he is still a level below.
“A knight’s duty is to be loyal, and I do not wish to hear any more blasphemous words from your mouth. Alarand, you are my most trusted subordinate. We have already lost so much in this catastrophe, and if this is Saint Sith’s punishment for us, we can only overcome this by uniting.”
Hagmer paused for a moment at this point, then added a paragraph to the end of his statement.
"I believe His Majesty has his own plans."
This statement sounds like he's trying to convince himself, but it's not entirely without merit.
He had witnessed his brother's methods firsthand. The seemingly drowsy old man was not as weak and easily bullied as he appeared, and who knew how many daggers were hidden beneath His Majesty's robes.
Theodore hadn't used his full strength yet.
As for the Twilight Province, while the nobles of the Holy Light Council are indeed spineless, they themselves are beneficiaries and may not actually side with the Campbellians. Staying on the sidelines and watching is the most likely option.
The Duchy of Campbell would certainly not dare to defy the world and usurp the title of its nominal monarch. Even if we consider the most blasphemous idea, they would simply turn it into the Duchy of Twilight... and then take it back later.
Seeing that even the esteemed Lord Hagmer had accepted the outcome, the adjutant said nothing more, simply nodded slightly, and walked out of the tent.
The rise and fall of the Kingdom of Ryan was ultimately a family matter for the Devalu family, and he, as an outsider, had no right to interfere in this matter.
He could only lament that, following the independence of the Duchy of Campbell, the sacred crown had once again been tarnished by treacherous and wicked men…
As night fell, the Lionheart Knights' camp fell silent until the sun rose the next day.
The group packed their belongings, their armor and weariness evident, and with their backs to the rising sun in the east, they chased after the departing twilight...
...
Dusk City, the Governor's study.
Governor Ellarrick paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, chattering incessantly, so excited he almost burst into song.
"They're gone! They're finally gone! Haha! As expected of Prince Edward... oh no, perhaps I should call him His Majesty!"
Praise be to Edward!
Praise be to the saint!
Praise be to the New Testament!
Praise to all the masterminds behind everything!
Although Governor Ellarick did not know the names of each of them, he could guess that this was not just the conspiracy of one or two people!
This is a huge chessboard, and even Roland City has been drawn into it! Even a great figure like him can only glimpse a corner of the chessboard and cannot know the whole picture.
But that's not important.
Importantly, from this moment on, he will no longer be just the governor of Twilight Province, but the uncrowned king of this land!
At that moment, Ellarick remembered that there was another person in the room, so he walked to the wine cabinet with a smile and took out his treasured wine.
"...Theron Gard! What did I tell you? We'll be the ones laughing last! Let's raise a glass to victory!"
Today, Twilight Province is a blank sheet of paper.
The royal army has completely withdrawn, and the madmen of the court have no power in the area. Only with the help of the Holy Light Council can orders be issued to the villages and towns!
And when the court also leaves this land, he will be the uncrowned king of this land!
As for Count Theron Gard, he was the one who brought the king to the forefront!
"Congratulations, Mr. Ellarick..."
"It's to congratulate us!"
"Okay, as you wish, congratulations to us."
Watching the figure bustling in front of the wine cabinet, Count Theron Gard found it difficult to share the governor's joy; instead, a faint melancholy crept into his expression.
Is it really... worth being this happy about?
The reason those peasants were so willing to cooperate was entirely because there was a lion between them that no one could defeat.
But now the lion is gone.
It is true that there is an "agreement" between the Council of Holy Light and the Salvation Army, but to negotiate an agreement with a bunch of peasants who can't even write their own names is a joke in itself.
Theron knows these guys' personalities all too well.
However, this worry did not linger on his brow for long, and soon dissipated like morning dew.
It seems like I... have absolutely no reason to worry about this?
Anyway, no matter which side wins, it won't be his turn to share the spoils, nor will it be his turn to suffer.
The king eventually returned; he was a hereditary earl. And if those peasants were to truly turn the tables, they would need a respectable figure to stand in the limelight and maintain appearances.
If Elaric's Council of Light comes out on top, that would certainly be the best outcome for him.
Even so, he doesn't seem to gain any more benefits than an additional parliamentary title.
The guy who had already lost everything became the most relaxed spectator in this game. Having already fallen to the bottom, no matter which way he lay down, it was an uphill climb.
Thinking of this, Theron relaxed his furrowed brow, accepted the wine glass offered by the governor with a smile, and finally showed the composure of a victor.
Since there's nothing left to lose, why worry about the winner?
Let's take it one step at a time and see how it goes.
...
Just as the governor of Twilight City and the count of Sparrowwood Territory were enjoying their drinks, good news, seemingly sprouting wings, also flew into the attic of a hotel somewhere in Twilight City.
When Teresa handed the letter from the rear to Eileen, the latter was so excited that she couldn't help but cover her mouth, her emerald green eyes filled with excitement.
"By Saint Sith..."
The Lionheart Knights have retreated!
Glory belongs to the Duchy of Campbell!
Although she couldn't see the power struggle outside the attic, she could imagine that her brother must have done something to force Theoden de Valou to make concessions!
But what excited her even more than the joy of military and political victories was that she could finally bring home the soldiers who had followed her into battle!
They must be just like me, longing for the sweet air of their hometown day and night, and eagerly wanting to bring glory back there.
Of course, what Eileen missed was not only the air and fine wine of her hometown, but also the figure that haunted her dreams.
When she needed help the most, that person bravely crossed the ocean and appeared by her side.
Thinking of that gentle and handsome face, Eileen felt her heart skip a beat, and she wished she could fly back to Thunder City right now.
"Congratulations, Your Highness."
Seeing Princess Irene's delight, Theresa smiled sincerely and then told her another piece of good news she had heard.
"As far as I know, His Highness Colin is currently at Glenston Castle, south of Rapids Pass. If we travel quickly enough, you might just run into him at a banquet there soon."
With her thoughts on someone else in mind, Eileen's cheeks flushed crimson the moment her thoughts were exposed, like a ripe apple.
"Ahem... I, I'm not so excited because of him."
She coughed lightly, her emerald eyes darting nervously beneath her eyelashes, like two flustered hares.
"I just... I just haven't been home in so long. Oh, and the grapes of Silverpine Town... Ah, I really miss them. I wonder if they're ripe yet?"
“Your Highness, in previous years the grapes in Silver Pine Town would not ripen until August. It’s a bit too early to be thinking about the grapes on the vines now… I think it was you who taught me that.”
Theresa did not expose the princess's clumsy disguise; a mischievous smile played on her lips, while Eileen's face turned even redder.
That expression was absolutely delicious; you could watch it countless times and never get tired of it.
Thinking that Eileen would no longer have to silently wait in this cramped attic, Theresa was genuinely happy for Her Highness and couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.
The burden on her shoulders was finally lifted, and her days playing "Eileen Campbell" were finally coming to an end.
During this time, she had been imitating Eileen's expressions and tone of voice. She was worried that if she continued like this, she would soon forget what she was originally supposed to look like.
By the window.
Sarah had her back to the two of them and was quietly packing her luggage.
The quiet and reserved girl still maintained an unapproachable demeanor, efficiently carrying out her tasks.
However, Theresa noticed a small detail about her: cat ears peeking out from her jet-black hair were swaying at a light, rhythmic pace.
Theresa couldn't help but smile. It seemed that she and Princess Eileen were not the only ones who were happy; Lady Sarah was also excited about the mission that was about to end.
I heard she really likes to eat fish, especially fresh sea fish. I bet her thoughts have already flown from Twilight City back to the fish market in Thunder City...
That's great.
She was quite envious of that simple and pure happiness. Unlike herself, she had too many things she wanted to do, and if she had a slightly longer vacation, she wouldn't know what to do.
perhaps--
Should I spend the whole day lying in bed reading?
It must be said that despite working with Sarah for almost a year, Theresa and Irene still didn't really understand this quiet and reserved girl.
Even though they had become friends, Sarah never revealed her true feelings to anyone.
At this moment, Sarah's thoughts were completely back with His Majesty the Demon King.
Although she could see that man every now and then, there was still a difference between meeting him secretly and standing openly in his shadow.
Thinking of that nostalgic scent, Sarah's lips curved into a faint smile, her amber eyes reflecting warmth.
I have once again successfully completed His Majesty's mission. Perhaps when I return this time, I can make a few slightly capricious requests...
(End of this chapter)
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