Kingdom's Bloodline, page 299
Kroesch watched him silently, causing the viscount to feel a chill in his heart.
"Right, you didn't do anything else," Kroesch said softly.
"But, you destroyed my beliefs with your drunken talk that night."
'Lhasa Kentvida.... You were the one who destroyed my belief of living by the sword… You were the one who made me first realize: What exactly am I? Where does my value lie?'
"Also"—Cold rays shone from Kroesch's eyes while she stared straight into Kentvida's—"no matter what you're interested in, it has nothing to do with the size of my chest."
Kentvida smiled faintly.
"To be able to destroy your beliefs, that drunken talk was indeed worth it.
"Moreover, you may think that the size of your chest is only of your concern." The viscount sighed and raised a finger to stab the leather armor in front of Kroesch's chest without the slightest apprehension. He did so like he was poking an ordinary piece of pork. "However, this world doesn't think so."
Just as Kroesch's expression turned murderous, the door of the Hall of Heroes opened.
Everyone outside the hall turned their heads at once.
Along with the sounds of footsteps, which could have been steady or lithe, heavy or nervous, a group of people filed out in a line.
Soldiers and guards immediately stepped back in deference, making a path for them.
Thales frowned. The Archduke of Black Sand Region walked in front, while the other archdukes accompanied him on the left and right with varying expressions—their faces looked grim especially after they saw the ferocious, murderous, and tensed army of the Black Sand Region.
The first person to respond was Prime Minister Lisban, who had been waiting for a long time.
The prime minister patted Nicholas' shoulder, ending the whispered conversation between them. He then took large strides forward.
"Chapman Lampard." The old prime minister's pace was steady, his tone unfriendly, "What a surprise, be it last night or right now."
Lampard's expression was very complicated. He pursed his lips lightly, and his apparent weary face grew increasingly solemn.
"Prime Minister Lisban."
He turned a deaf ear to Lisban's greeting, which held a profound meaning.
The archduke turned around and nodded to Kentvida to give him a signal. Shortly after, he looked at the other people who came out with him.
With a solemn expression, Olsius stepped aside, whereas Roknee looked elsewhere in disdain.
Before everyone's eyes, High Priestess Holme of Bright Moon Temple stepped out slowly from behind them.
Thales felt nervous and held his breath.
She was still covered in a veil. Her eyes were melancholic as well as misty, and she would occasionally sweep her gaze in Thales' direction. It caused a sense of anxiety to rise in the prince's heart.
The high priestess held Saroma's hand. She appeared still and at peace.
But Saroma was looking for something, appearing anxious and nervous. The girl only seemed to relax and breathed a sigh of relief after she met Thales' gaze.
Thales returned it with an encouraging smile.
The girl was as disheveled as before, but at least her small and ash-covered face had been cleaned so that the others could see how she really looked like.
As a vassal of Dragon Clouds City, Count Lisban cast a solemn and dignified gaze on Saroma. He seemed to be thinking about something.
Lampard raised his hands slowly. The whispers in the hall ceased immediately.
Lampard was heard saying faintly, "I hereby announce to all of Eckstedt."
His voice was not loud, but exceptionally sonorous. It reverberated across the corridor and seemed to possess a sense of grandeur.
"Last night, under the attack of the calamity, our venerated king, King Nuven the Seventh unfortunately passed away."
In that instant, Thales could catch clear glimpses of the archdukes' extremely unpleasant expressions. Lecco was an exception as he still remained expressionless.
Count Lisban fixed his eyes on Lampard's face instead.
Silence.
Even though everyone had been prepared for a long time, even though rumors had been running wild, even though the delay in the king's return had indicated that something bad happened, once the people there heard the news, they all gasped because of it.
The expression on the faces of Nicholas and the Class One White Blade Guards became even darker.
In an instant, the warriors of Black Sand Region and the Royal Court became restless. They began to whisper into each other's ears.
It was only whispers in the beginning, then it developed into a greater clamor, as if an indescribable panic was spreading among them.
It lasted until Lampard raised his hand once again. "Silence!"
Lampard turned his head with a complex expression. He said airily, "As his granddaughter and next of kin, Saroma Alex Soria Walton will take over his position."
The people's gazes followed the archduke's gestures, and they saw the bewildered, bespectacled-girl by the high priestess' side clearly.
"She will become the next Archduchess… of Dragon Clouds City."
This time, in contrast to the progressive panic aroused by the death of the king, the whole hall immediately burst into an uproar!
That girl… an archduchess?
Whether it was the Black Sand Region soldiers, the archdukes' subordinates, or the palace guards who were already loyal to King Nuven and Dragon Clouds City, they were all extremely shocked as they looked at one another.
If a majority of the people there had not been warriors, the situation might have gone out of control long ago.
Only the White Blade Guards, including Nicholas, appeared to be abnormally calm.
The archdukes and Prime Minister Lisban, who had a steely look on his face, all looked hardly surprised.
Thales watched Saroma's complexion turn from ruddy to pale, while she panicked from all the attention. He felt horrible.
Lampard observed the crowd solemnly and remained motionless.
At this moment, Prime Minister Lisban walked to the front.
His action attracted everyone's attention.
Count Lisban was seen arriving right before Saroma. Then, he slowly knelt down.
"My Lady, are you alright?" he asked gently. The tone he used was that of comforting a child.
Saroma stared at him in a daze.
The wrinkles on the Count's face could be seen twitching slightly. "I am Ciel Lisban, once a vassal to your grandfather and his kingdom's prime minister."
"Hello." No one knew if it was because of the priestess' gesture, but Saroma replied shyly, "Your Grace…"
Lisban shook his head. Tender affection and grief seeped from his eyes.
The count sternly said, "No, please bear in mind that I am your vassal. I pledge my allegiance to you."
Saroma was stunned. She stared at the count's serious expression.
In the clamorous corridor, Saroma nodded and pursed her lips.
"Hi." The girl tried hard to assume an air of firmness. "Ciel."
With that, a smile finally appeared on Lisban's wrinkled face. He slowly got up.
Among the restless crowd of people, Kroesch shook her head in mockery while she sat up halfway from her stretcher. "Heh... At the end of the day, our enemies were the ones who managed to bring out an archduchess. How ironic."
Viscount Kentvida turned his head around. "You really think so?"
Kroesch was still contemptuous. "Isn't that the case?"
Kentvida laughed softly and jabbed her on the head.
"No, no, Esch." Under Kroesch's murderous gaze, the viscount deftly pulled back his right hand before the warrior broke his finger. "Use that cute little brain of yours and listen carefully."
Kentvida shifted his sharp gaze towards Saroma, before he eyed each one of the archdukes. He watched their rather steely, silent, uncontrollably angry expressions and sighed. "Northland got its first archduchess not because of coincidence and whatnot, but because we swung the first hammer. We crushed those iron rules that hovered over Northland for the first time in millennia."
Kroesch paused for a moment.
The viscount raised the corner of his mouth while he spoke with a hidden intent in his words. "Because we swayed this hammer, Northland and the Northlanders were caught off guard. Surrounded by the fragments and mess we left in our wake, they had to accept their first archduchess."
Perhaps not just an archduchess, but also other things.
"Do you remember these words?" Kentvida's eyes burned with a strange flame. He then enunciated each and every single word carefully. "Those who don't work, don't get any rewards."
Kroesch lowered her eyes, seemingly thinking something over.
At this moment, High Priestess Holme released the girl's hand and took gradual steps forward.
Archduke Lampard moved back extremely gracefully as he made way for her.
The high priestess spoke casually.
The commotion outside the hall had not subsided, and her words were also not very loud, but unexpectedly, the high priestess' words rang clearly in everyone's ears.
"As the spokesperson of the Bright Moon Goddess, I solemnly declare to all of Eckstedt."
Everyone turned solemn expression at once.
"The 45th Common-Elected King of Eckstedt, Archduke of Dragon Clouds City, Nuven Raikaru Kahn Walton has passed away today."
They were still quiet, but the atmosphere hanging over them was no longer as depressing as before, because everyone knew what was coming next.
High Priestess Holme faintly said, "According to Raikaru's Joint Ruling Pledge six hundred and sixty two years ago: When the old king passes, a new king shall stand.
"The Bright Moon Goddess stands witness here. Under the holy decree of Raikaru's Joint Ruling Pledge, someone has achieved the highest vote and was chosen as the next common-elected king in the great and solemn King Selection Congress."
At that moment, everyone's attention swept towards the few archdukes there. Almost every archduke had unpleasant expressions on their faces. Roknee even turned his head to the side in contempt.
Amid the oppressive atmosphere in the hall, the expressionless Chapman Lampard flung his cape and gradually walked forward. He stood before everyone's scrutinizing gaze.
Chapter 270: The Blood-Stained Crown |
Many people frowned.
The breaths of the White Blade Guards and the palace guards became heavier. They even clenched their fists.
The fighters of Black Sand Region placed their hands on their weapons in response. Their gazes were cold—a warning.
The two groups became tense and were in conflict again. For a moment, the atmosphere at the scene was extremely stifling.
On the other hand, as involved parties, Lampard and the other archdukes were calm as usual. It was as though they did not see the terrifying scene at all. Only those like Nicholas and Tolja kept shooting warning glances at their subordinates.
"This is filled with Northland's special traits indeed: Held in a corridor outside the hall with neither enough attending nobles nor special guests from other kingdoms, only two groups of soldiers who are dying to kill the other party, and conspirators harboring evil intentions."
In a secluded corner, Putray sighed and said beside Thales ears, "This is probably the simplest, unceremoniously rushed yet also the most hair-raising coronation that I've ever seen."
Thales wrinkled his brow a little.
"You can't really say that. Six archdukes are present, and there's us as the 'foreign guests'.
"As for it being 'the simplest, most unceremoniously rushed, but also most hair-raising coronation'?" The prince repeated the vice diplomat's words. Recalling everything that happened today, the prince could not help but shake his head. "Alright, I doubt anyone would ever be able to break this record."
Fortunately, the conflict many people were worried about did not happen. Lampard, standing in front of High Priestess Holme, nodded slightly at the priestess.
The high priestess's emotionless voice echoed beside everyone's ears again. "I, Bright Moon Temple's Juwle Holme, stand here to question Chapman Lampard on behalf of the Gods, the descendants of the dragon and the late kings!"
Everyone immediately became solemn, including Thales. Due to a few strange encounters with the spokespeople of the gods, he was even more fearful than everyone else.
The high priestess's voice was hazy, but could be heard clearly. "As the suzerain of Black Sand Region and one of the ten glorious and dignified archdukes of Eckstedt, you were chosen during the King Selection Congress, Chapman Shawlon Holt Lampard…"
Her voice was stately and her gaze was formal and respectful.
Lampard stared solemnly into her eyes above the veil.
High Priestess Holme said steadily, "Are you willing to swear upon your honor, and your life…"
All the Northlanders placed their hands on their chests—over the heart—in unison. Their expressions were respectful and earnest.
Looking around, Thales wondered if he should do the same. He abandoned the idea when he saw Putray shake his head.
The high priestess's words were regal and steady, as though they were filled with an indescribable power that dealt a blow to everyone's hearts.
"And as a Northlander, to undertake the heavy responsibilities as king to this kingdom, to stand at the forefront of the kingdom with your wisdom and breadth of mind, to defend Eckstedt and Northland with your life, to hold fast the glorious and noble spirit of the kingdom so that it will not be a relic of the past, to ensure that the vassals' legitimate and god-given powers are not infringed upon, and to defend the safety of the lives and assets of Northlanders, ensuring that no harm comes to them...
"... from this moment on, until the end of your life?"
The moment the high priestess finished speaking, all Northlanders held their breaths and stared at the unsmiling archduke clad in martial attire.
Lampard inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, thinking of something.
At that moment, as he listened to the oath, Thales suddenly remembered the Archduke of Black Sand Region's ideals and aspiration.
'He didn't give up.' Staring at the archduke's expression, Thales said to himself, asserting to himself.
'Despite the restrictions, hindrances and difficulties, he will go forward without regrets. For his Eckstedt.'
Then, Lampard abruptly opened his eyes, his gaze was like steel.
The archduke balled up his hand that was placed on his chest. He had his fist over his heart. The Archduke of Black Sand Region's voice was courtly and his expression was firm.
"I, Chapman Shawlon Holt Lampard from the Lampard Family, am willing to swear upon my honor, and my life…"
He left no room for doubt as he spoke, enunciating each word. His words were stirring.
"And as a Northlander, I will undertake the heavy responsibilities as king to this kingdom, to stand at the forefront of the kingdom with my wisdom and breadth of mind...
Listening quietly to his oath, Thales frowned a little. On the other hand, Saroma stared anxiously at Lampard without moving.
"I will defend Eckstedt and Northland with my life."
Archduke Olsius subconsciously clenched his fists.
"I will hold fast to the glorious and noble spirit of the kingdom so that it will not be a relic of the past."
Archduke Roknee clenched his teeth.
"I will ensure that the vassals' legitimate and god-given powers are not infringed upon."
Archduke Lecco sighed.
"I will defend the safety of the lives and assets of Northlanders, ensuring that no harm comes to them."
As though he was thinking of something, Archduke Trentida's gaze flickered.
"From this moment on, until the end of my life."
When he said the last word in the oath, Lampard resolutely raised his head and looked around, like the king of a lion pride. Wherever his gaze landed, everyone averted their eyes to avoid meeting with his. When his gaze fell on Thales, the archduke's eyes seemed to widen just a little—although it could have been Thales' imagination.
High Priestess Holme nodded faintly, then turned and faced the other archdukes.
"As one of the ten glorious and dignified archdukes of Eckstedt, and the voters of the King Selection Congress…"
The high priestess uttered everyone's name in order. All the archdukes' expressions turned severe.
"Archduke of Defense City, Rogers Lecco, Archduke of Prestige Orchid, Reybien Olsius, Archduke of the City of Faraway Prayers, Kulgon Roknee, and Archduke of Reformation Tower, Porpheus Trentida…"
Under everyone's gazes, High Priestess Holme turned to the last person.
Feeling as if she was wronged, the bespectacled little girl really wanted to pout her lips. In the end, with clenched fists, she stuck out her little chest and endured everyone's stares, stiff but firm.
Watching the girl from afar, Lampard could not help but narrow his eyes.
The next moment, the high priestess softly uttered a title that had never been heard in the six hundred odd years in Eckstedt's history.
"Archduchess of Dragon Clouds City… Saroma Walton."
There was a slight commotion from the crowd, but the Star Killer and the Fire Knight went among them and forcefully suppressed the people's objections with their murderous glares.
"Are all of you willing to swear upon your honor, and your lives, as Northlanders, to accept this oath, to dedicate your sword and shield as the king's vassals, to stand beside the king, to defend Eckstedt and Northland with your lives, to hold fast the glorious and noble spirit of the kingdom so that it does not become a relic of the past, to ensure that the vassals' legitimate and god-given powers are not infringed upon, and to defend the safety of the lives and assets of Northlanders, ensuring that no harm is done...
"From this moment on, until the end of your lives?"
As he mulled over the archdukes' oath, Thales suddenly noticed that other than the first part, it was strikingly similar to the king's oath. This made him realize suddenly that the Joint Ruling Pledge, or at least the people who drafted it at the beginning, did not consider the relationship between the king and his vassals as important. Instead, it valued the sacred agreement between rulers and their land.
