WeTried Translations
Translator: Hydrogen B
Editor: Hydrogen B
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 177: The Red Banquet (16)
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Inside the royal palace's banquet hall Kyle had left behind, a bloody battle raged beneath the shattered chandeliers.
More than a hundred knights swung their swords, trying to kill one another. Yet the fierce clash had begun to tip to one side.
The greatest reason was the difference in strength.
The moderates and hardliners had similar numbers of knights, but not everyone possessed equal skill. Godfrey, Commander of the Chevaliers, and the Ash Knights who had joined the battle midway were especially formidable. They were cutting down their enemies one after another without even needing to use Sword Aura.
It's over.
Adrian watched the battle from behind the hardliner nobles and thought to himself.
Even a battle that had seemed as though it would never end was gradually revealing its outcome.
The banquet hall floor was already littered with corpses, not just the Russel knight Kyle had killed first. Many of the neutral nobles attending the banquet had fled toward the terrace or the open doors, but Adrian did not care. They were bats who would inevitably side with the victor anyway.
What mattered was who won tonight's battle.
The winning side would take everything.
The only uncertainty was Kyle, who had gone outside earlier, and the Russel knights pursuing him...
Adrian did not deliberate for long. Though he considered the worst-case scenario, he was not especially worried about Kyle.
The moderates were being pushed back so helplessly because a large portion of Russel's elite forces had left the hall. That meant the knights who had pursued Kyle were highly skilled.
Still, Adrian could not imagine Kyle losing.
Even the Ash Knights, who were ruthlessly slaughtering the moderate knights on the front lines, did not seem particularly concerned.
Either they trusted him, or they intended to finish this as quickly as possible and go help him.
Adrian had never seen Kyle's swordsmanship himself, but it was likely the former. No matter how young he was, no one would hand over the position of Commander based on emotion alone.
The church's paladins worried him more.
“Sir Godfrey! What the hell are you doing?!”
“Weren't the Chevaliers part of the Council? Moving the order on your own without the Council's approval is open treason!”
“Stop those black bastards! They're breaking through!”
“Damn it...!”
“Aaargh!”
Screams rose toward the ceiling above the fallen chandeliers.
The horrible cries and clashing of metal slowly faded together.
The battle had now completely tipped to one side. Even the numbers made that clear. Philip, King of Russel, had disappeared with his knights, while Sebastian, the only moderate king remaining, trembled as he sensed the end approaching.
“We should start wrapping this up.”
Armand, King of Valone, muttered emotionlessly beside Adrian.
Unlike the moderate nobles, who were panicking, the hardliner nobles in the rear were calculating what came next. The battle's outcome had effectively been decided. All that remained was dealing with the aftermath.
“There were some surprises, but it went as expected. The Ash Knights really were alive, just as you said. How long have you had them on your side?”
“For years now. It's been so long that it's difficult to count precisely.”
“As expected, you're quite capable. To think you have the Ash Knights under your command. No one could have imagined it.”
“I don't command them. We're only cooperating temporarily.”
“Either way, they share our cause, don't they? That too must be the Grand Duke's ability. The Knights of Ash are the north itself.”
Albert, King of Rustin, spoke with innocent admiration at Armand's subtle praise.
Adrian modestly brushed it aside without much reaction.
“What do you think will happen outside?”
Armand asked as he stared through the half-destroyed windows behind the moderates.
“There shouldn't be any problems there either.”
“You think twenty Council Knights can occupy the city?”
“The private soldiers of the other nobles are blocking off every district except the key locations.”
“What about defectors within the Chevaliers?”
Everyone knew the Council Knights were bound up in a complicated web of politics. It would not have been strange for some to abandon their oaths as knights and choose their families instead.
“At most, around five. They won't pose a problem.”
“You don't seem worried about the Blue Wolf.”
“He is not someone who will fall in a place like this.”
Adrian answered firmly.
Armand let out a quiet laugh at his tone, which held not even the slightest doubt.
“Convincing the Chairman will be important, though it won't mean much.”
If a new dynasty took the throne in Russel after Philip's death, and Sebastian was deposed so that his eldest son, the Crown Prince, inherited the throne, then five of the Council's six seats would fall into the hardliners' hands.
Chairman Felbric Chergar had originally been neutral, so it was practically over.
“Sir Godfrey has worked hard in his old age. The Ash Knights as well. Their contributions must be properly rewarded.”
Armand shifted his gaze.
Adrian turned his head with him. Godfrey, who had been at the front, was capturing Sebastian, King of Selaine. When the Ash Knights looked around the room, those who met their eyes naturally lowered their heads.
The Selaine Royal Knights did not resist. It was thanks to the Crown Prince, who had already coordinated with them.
By then, the moderate knights also began lowering their weapons one by one.
Only Renavik's archbishop, who had disguised paladins as priests, stood blankly staring up at the ceiling.
They violated the Sacred Treaty to create Izra's Thorn, and now they have interfered in the Federation's internal affairs. The Crescent Theocracy won't get out of this easily. They openly conspired with the moderates.
Wait. One paladin is missing.
“Everyone, stop!”
Just as Adrian was about to speak after sensing something was wrong, a booming voice rang out from a corner of the banquet hall.
“Gasp... Gasp...”
“Stop right there. Do not come any closer. This is a warning.”
Chairman Felbric, who had been fretting helplessly amid the sudden civil war, had been taken hostage.
It was the missing paladin.
Standing behind Felbric, the paladin had hooked his left arm around Felbric's neck and pointed the sword in his right hand forward.
Adrian unconsciously bit his lip.
When did he...? Did he use a holy relic?
“What a pointless thing to do.”
“...”
“Do you think this will change anything?”
Godfrey, who had captured Sebastian, slowly turned around.
Contempt and pity were evenly mixed in the old knight's eyes.
“We'll have to send an official letter of protest to the Crescent Theocracy. Have you stopped hiding it now and decided to openly serve the Empire?”
“This has nothing to do with the Theocracy.”
“We'll find that out soon enough. Whether the Theocracy itself is directly involved, or whether this was the independent act of that greed-filled archbishop. Either way, you'll be sent to the stake.”
“We...”
“Perhaps we could show mercy and behead you quietly instead. Are you planning to walk into the flames yourselves?”
Godfrey's calm voice carried through the silent banquet hall.
Caught between the archbishop glaring at him and the old knight, the paladin wavered.
“I...”
As his lips moved beneath the crowd's stares, the air suddenly warped.
A blade like starlight flashed.
Blood erupted, and the paladin holding Felbric hostage had his head severed from his body. The spinning head fell to the floor and rolled across it.
Thud. Thud. Rattle...
Every eye in the hall turned toward the blood-soaked head rolling across the floor.
He seemed not even to have realized what had happened, his expression frozen as it had been just before death.
The stunned gazes passed the severed head and looked behind Felbric, who had collapsed to the floor.
There, where the scenery rippled, a knight in a black formal uniform drenched in blood slowly appeared.
* * *
The Red Banquet, held in the dead of night, ended that way.
Once even the church's paladins, their final line of defense, dropped their swords, the remaining moderate nobles rushed to their knees and surrendered.
Many of them were high-ranking nobles from Russel and Selaine. They were powerful figures with blood ties and connections not only within their own countries, but beyond them as well.
With the tide having completely turned, they knew that bowing their heads however they could was their best option.
The hardliners could not kill them immediately either. They understood that the situation was not right for expanding the civil war.
The disturbance outside did not last long, either.
Some Chevaliers had abandoned their oaths and deserted, but they were subdued without much difficulty. Those who resisted to the end were beheaded, while the remaining forces surrendered on their own to preserve their lives.
Not a single civilian died in the process.
Midnight passed, then dawn came.
The sun rose.
After roughly sorting out the banquet hall, Kyle returned first to the Grand Duke's estate in the city center, thanks to Adrian, the Ash Knights, and several others.
Perhaps because he had used Prisia's Authority several times, exhaustion hit him all at once when the tension left his body.
He moved through alleys to avoid people's eyes, but the streets were already full of life. Bright voices and lively shouts occasionally drifted over from nearby streets.
Both the commotion at the banquet hall and the battle outside had taken place away from the main roads, so ordinary people appeared completely unaware of what had happened overnight.
Everything had gone according to the Grand Duke's plan.
If the Federation split apart, it would lose the strength to stand against the Empire. The Federation could not collapse yet, not if the north was to be rebuilt in the future.
At least, not yet.
Lost in idle thoughts, Kyle arrived at the estate.
Even when they saw Kyle covered in blood, the estate's servants did not panic.
Thanks to that, Kyle was able to wash comfortably. Then he dragged his heavy body to the room prepared for him.
The room had already been cleaned and was spotless. Kyle watched the slanting morning sunlight pour in through the window for a moment, then drew the curtains tightly shut. He leaned Yurian's sword beside the nightstand and lay down on the bed, surrendering himself to sleep.
When his sunken consciousness rose again...
“...”
Kyle opened his eyes.
A single ray of sunlight leaked through the thick curtains, cutting across the dark room.
How long did I sleep?
He looked at the clock hanging on the far wall. It was past nine.
Had only an hour passed since he lay down?
His body felt far too refreshed for that. The dizziness that had weighed heavily on his mind and the exhaustion that had dragged his entire body underground had vanished as cleanly as melting snow.
A day has passed. So it's the next day?
Kyle climbed out of bed and got dressed.
Perhaps because he had slept soundly for an entire day, he felt remarkably good. That was all the more surprising because he had prepared himself to be bedridden for several days.
Using Prisia's mana and Authority is gradually becoming easier. The backlash is getting weaker too. Has this body already gone beyond the limits of humanity?
After dying once already, it did not seem especially strange.
Kyle fastened Yurian's sword at his waist and left the room. Despite what had happened yesterday, the estate was as calm as usual. The servants walking through the halls behaved no differently.
“Where is the Grand Duke?”
“Ah, His Grace is in his office. He told us to make sure you had everything you needed once you woke up... Shall I go tell him you're awake?”
Kyle shook his head.
Instead, he went directly to the Grand Duke's office. Adrian had been busily writing since morning. He glanced at Kyle's sudden arrival, then spoke as though it were nothing.
“You're awake?”
“I just woke up.”
“I'm glad your body seems to be all right.”
“What are you doing?”
“Writing a letter to Gilbert. He must be managing Rier alone, so shouldn't I at least give him some advance notice? He must be worried sick.”
Adrian scribbled away, then suddenly held the letter up and inspected it from different angles.
Kyle silently sat on one of the empty sofas. The lazy morning sunlight gently wrapped around him.
“Am I the only one in the estate?”
This time, Kyle spoke first.
Adrian placed the letter in its envelope and carefully pressed a seal onto it without looking his way.
“No. Sir Hermann and Sir Walter spent all day yesterday dealing with the aftermath before falling asleep a little while ago. As you can see, there is much to do after the battle. The Ash Knights have been working hard enough to cover your share as well, so I doubt they'll wake up before evening.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing too serious. The Council has completely fallen to our side because of this, so it is practically over. The support for the north that you want should pass without issue as well. The church being involved is troublesome, though...”
Adrian clicked his tongue softly and tapped the neatly arranged letter against the desk.
Kyle asked him, “Will you kill them?”
“The paladins? I'm considering it. Even if we spare the moderate nobles after confiscating their property and private soldiers, those men are different. Unlike the moderates, who are still members of the Federation, the church belongs to the Crescent Theocracy.”
“Using them as a diplomatic bargaining chip would not be a bad idea.”
“Perhaps. My role is to weigh whether the benefits are worth it.”
“The commander of Russel's Royal Knights was a member of the Celestial Knights.”
Adrian's shoulders twitched for an instant.
His lips moved several times before he finally spoke.
“...I suspected it, but I never thought he would be a wyvern knight.”
“You do not seem surprised.”
“Because I expected something like this. Once they were secretly communicating with the Empire, there was no reason to believe the royal family would be clean. Even I am a little taken aback that the commander of the Royal Knights, the king's closest guard, was a wyvern knight.”
“Where is Philip?”
Kyle stared steadily at Adrian.
Adrian carefully set the letter in his hand to one side of the desk, then met Kyle's eyes directly.
“The King of Russel is underground.”
“Underground where?”
“Beneath this estate.”
“What does that...”
“There is an underground prison at the very bottom of this place. It has been there since before Gilbert bought the estate. You could call it a spoil of war. There is much information to extract, so I personally arranged his transfer. The interrogation is mostly finished too. Sir Hermann and Sir Walter worked hard.”
“May I see him myself?”
Kyle rose from his seat.
Adrian narrowed his eyes.
“If there is something you're curious about, why not ask me instead of going through the trouble?”
“No. I need to see him with my own eyes. How he feels. What he knows. Whether he is hiding something.”
And what kind of relationship he has with the Emperor.
Whether he knows that bastard's secret.
“...Do as you wish. I will leave the rest of the interrogation to you.”
Adrian did not take long to consider it.
He readily agreed. Kyle gave a small nod of thanks and turned away.
As he walked, Yurian's sword at his waist shone brightly.
Footnotes:
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