Chapter 66
“What on earth is going on?”
Prince Eduardo Luigi di Napoli, seeing the First Prince following the King, unconsciously furrowed his brows, then quickly smoothed them out and forced a faint smile. It was just a fleeting moment, but for the usually emotionless prince, it was a rare slip.
He was clearly shaken.
But he wasn’t the only one. Compared to others, he was at least better at hiding his inner turmoil.
“No, how is the First Prince accompanying His Majesty the King? Were they together just now?”
“And isn’t that woman next to him the Nun Knight from the Church Order? Surely the Church hasn’t decided to support the First Prince, has it?”
“That’s overthinking it. Didn’t you hear? She’s the one who cured His Majesty’s illness.”
Despite the King’s appearance, the gathered crowd buzzed with speculation. Prince Eduardo, observing the chaos, inwardly smirked. Of course, the commotion died down the moment King Vittorio III stepped forward and raised his arm.
“Welcome to my palace. While I was away, my loyal subjects held the fort. Now that I have recovered, I gather here to celebrate. How could I not commend my subjects? Your dedication and hard work will surely be rewarded. As the King of Rotaringia and the master of the Iron Throne in the royal city of Ravenna, I promise you this.”
As Vittorio III spoke in a gentle tone, the tense expressions of the nobles began to ease. They took his moderate words as a political olive branch, a sign that their past actions would be overlooked.
Yet, amidst this, the Seventh Prince, Bernardo, glared at the pale-faced First Prince standing beside the King, still trapped in his own psychological turmoil.
King Vittorio III, glancing at the scene below the balcony, turned to Sophia and said, “Take care of the rear.”
“Rest assured, Your Majesty.”
With a faint smile at Sophia’s response, Vittorio III then looked at the First Prince, Eduardo, whose face was filled with complex emotions, and raised an eyebrow.
“I have something to discuss with you. Leave the rear to Sir Chazel and follow me quickly.”
“Ah… yes, Your Majesty.”
Prompted by Vittorio III, the First Prince snapped out of his daze and began following the King, who was already walking away.
As always, the First Prince followed humbly and silently. Vittorio III, glancing at him, felt a mix of pity and guilt. Despite being manipulated by external forces, the First Prince had maintained his composure as both a son and a subject, even though he was once the top contender for the throne. Now, he had been thrust into a difficult position.
Honestly, Vittorio III felt he had no right to stand before the First Prince, neither as a father nor as a monarch. Yet, driven by an impulse, he spoke.
“Eduardo.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Don’t call me ‘Your Majesty.’ Call me ‘Father.’”
Though he knew he didn’t deserve it, Vittorio III forced himself to say it, feeling shameless but trying to appear nonchalant.
‘I pride myself on having a thick face.’
Hiding his self-deprecation, he waited for his son’s response with a stern expression.
Caught off guard, the First Prince stiffened, then closed his eyes and bowed his head. Thinking it was a rejection, Vittorio III hid his disappointment, only to hear a soft whisper.
“Yes… Father.”
Vittorio III’s body stiffened momentarily, then trembled imperceptibly. How much time and agony were condensed in that one word? And how profound was its impact on him?
Vittorio III felt he owed an equally heartfelt response.
“Yes, my son.”
Struggling to hold back his emotions, he forced out the words. But for the First Prince, that was enough. For a while, father and son walked in silence down the corridor.
Suddenly, a holy light filled the corridor they had just left, accompanied by a cacophony of screams and eerie shrieks.
“Father, what’s this…?”
“Hmm, it seems the Church has finally begun to act.”
Vittorio III’s lips curled slightly.
“A broken brigade must be replaced. Otherwise, you can’t pour new wine into old wineskins. Remember this, my son. The Iron Throne you will inherit will be different from before.”
+++++
After the King and the First Prince left, the atmosphere in the banquet hall relaxed. The influential figures, believing the King would no longer hold them accountable, began to enjoy the banquet leisurely, planning new long-term strategies to adapt to the changed situation.
But there was one person who couldn’t relax.
Giuseppe Gallo, the head of the Bakers’ Guild. The moment Sophia, the King, and the First Prince appeared on the terrace, and after the King commended his subjects, Giuseppe’s mind was already blaring with the highest level of warning signals.
The moment the warning signals went off, he moved almost reflexively. Scanning the room quickly, he noticed the clergy members appearing one by one.
His plan was simple: slip into the nearest group of clergy. If there were nobles from the First Prince’s faction nearby, even better.
He anticipated a crisis and aimed to ensure his safety while using the situation to establish connections with the First Prince’s allies.
Logically, this was a near-delusional prediction. But strangely, it turned out to be accurate, as events soon proved.
Right on cue, as everyone in the banquet hall let their guard down, bursts of blue and golden light erupted from the clergy surrounding the hall.
The Immovable King Wisdom Technique’s Light Power exploded, illuminating every corner of the banquet hall. The result was horrifying.
“Kyaaaah…!!!”
“Kiiiiiaaah…!!!”
“Kyararagwaaak…!!!”
Demons, disguised as humans, screamed as if doused in acid, writhing in agony under the Light Power.
“Ahhh, monsters!”
“Help me!”
“Demons! Demons have appeared in the royal palace!”
The banquet hall descended into chaos. The Light Power, refined by the Immovable King Wisdom Technique, was deadly to demons, though its strength was inconsistent, making it hard to kill a demon in one strike.
With 300 clergy members present, the numerical advantage was significant, but they weren’t rushing to kill the demons. Instead, they focused on containing them.
This was the purpose of their mission.
“Currently, there are about fifteen demons trapped in the banquet hall. Assign one per ten clergy members, alternating between close-range and spell-casting groups.”
Sophia, observing the scene, spoke calmly. Her words were relayed to the clergy, who had divided into groups. This attack was a practical test for the Church’s trainees, meant to give them experience in demon combat before their official deployment.
Unfortunately for the demons caught in Sophia’s trap and the nobles manipulated by Vittorio III, this was an unfortunate turn of events.
Of course, with Sophia overseeing the operation, no lives would be lost. But it was clear that those nobles would no longer have the strength to oppose the King’s plans in the future.
