Chapter 523: The Blood Pearl
That evening, Calvin Kant summoned the nobles of the Northern Region to the castle.
The banquet room’s fireplace burned high, its light restless on the walls, throwing the guests’ shadows into a slow, wavering dance. Four long tables ran the length of the hall, laden with steaming meat and wine — a feast sumptuous enough that the occasion could still be mistaken, at first glance, for hospitality. But the air in the room had the quality of a room where everyone is watching the door.
The mood did not improve when the Duke announced that King’s City had fallen.
“I’ve dispatched riders to intercept the platoon that set out four days ago,” Calvin said from the head table, his voice low and deliberate. “They are returning safely. But the question before this room tonight is a different one — what should the Northern Region do?”
The nobles looked at one another. The news of Timothy’s defeat in a single day had arrived like a stone dropped into a well, and no one seemed eager to speak first. Calvin could read the room easily enough: fear, regret, the particular shame of men who had backed the losing side and were only beginning to understand what that might cost them.
Edith was right. Not one of these men has the spine to resist Roland Wimbledon. Division was never a real option. There is only one road forward.
The trouble was that nobles who had only recently sworn loyalty to Timothy could not openly reverse themselves without embarrassment. The room needed permission to turn.
“Why not send a spy to learn Prince Roland’s intentions?” someone offered after a long silence.
“If he leaves the Northern Region alone, we might simply acknowledge him as the new king,” another voice added, gathering quick agreement. “These are Wimbledon family matters. What does it change for us, which brother sits the throne?”
“No difference?” Earl Lista’s laugh had no warmth in it.
The room went quiet. Calvin felt the keynote settle over the gathering like a cold front.
Lista stood at his ease, surveying the room. The three noble families were roughly equal in power, with the Kants edged out slightly. Calvin had become Duke only because he had heeded Edith’s counsel and been the first to ingratiate himself with Timothy — a maneuver Timothy had found useful for its own reasons, since a Duke beholden to him balanced the other two families nicely. Everyone in the room understood this, even if no one said it.
“Have you forgotten Duke Ise?” Lista’s voice carried easily. “Arrested for treason. Executed. He never moved against Timothy at all. If we simply throw ourselves at the new king’s feet, we are lambs waiting for the noose. In Prince Roland’s eyes, we are already implicated — every one of us. We cannot pretend otherwise.”
“What else can we do?” one of Calvin’s feudatories said, with less vigor than the words required. “If King’s City couldn’t last a day, we’d be throwing eggs at a stone wall—”
He stopped mid-sentence under the force of Lista’s stare.
“Even if all we have are eggs, I’ll throw them.” Ed Howes pushed back his chair. “The rebel king murdered my elder brother. He will answer for that.”
“And the Northern Region is not the Western Plain,” Earl Howes followed swiftly. “It’s all hills and mountains, difficult roads. Roland’s army may sweep across open ground, but it’ll be a different war in terrain like ours. If worst comes to worst, my family retreats to Coldwind Ridge. I don’t believe his guns can reach us there.”
Which puts your entire back up against the Church, Calvin thought, and those people have no good intentions toward the Northern Region either. He said nothing. The eldest son of the Howes family had died fighting the Lord of the Western Region — that was the story, anyway. Men died in wars. Grief didn’t obligate anyone to follow them into the grave.
The hall grew loud. As Lista and Howes declared their positions, the voices calling for patience and preparedness steadily overwhelmed the voices that had been edging toward accommodation. Calvin sat silent and felt the room slipping.
Where is Edith? Surely she hasn’t run into trouble.
“What does the Honorable Duke think?” Lista’s gaze found him across the table. His silence had become conspicuous.
Calvin steadied himself. “I summoned you all tonight to hear everyone’s counsel. A matter of this magnitude requires care—”
“Enough.” Howes cut him off. “I’ve had the feeling all evening that you’ve already decided to submit to Prince Roland. Why else would all the voices urging retreat happen to come from your feudatories? If we hand over everything now, we are cattle waiting for slaughter.”
Calvin’s hand tightened around his wine glass. He did not throw it.
“Since there is nothing more to discuss.” Lista stood and walked toward the exit. He spoke over his shoulder with casual malice. “If you want the new king to spare your life, you could always offer him Edith, bound hand and foot. I’ve heard he has a great appreciation for beau—”
The laughter died as Lista did not finish his sentence.
A sword point had emerged from Lista’s back, the blade catching firelight. The stain spreading around it looked nearly black.
“Are you speaking of me, Sir Snow Fox?” The voice was calm. Almost amused. “I couldn’t pretend not to hear that.”
Lista’s body folded onto the floor. The figure behind him stepped forward — tall, lean, armor-plated and bloodstained, sword held at her side without drama or display. She walked over the Earl while he was still moving and entered the hall.
Edith Kant.
Calvin exhaled.
Her armor bore the evidence of hard fighting — she had been busy elsewhere tonight while the nobles talked. But nothing in her bearing suggested fatigue. She had the face of someone who had just resolved an argument in a way that could not be appealed.
Behind her, armed men entered the hall and took positions along the walls. The exits closed. By then, the assembled nobles needed no further explanation.
“The guards—” Howes’ voice cracked. “What have you done to the guards outside—”
“Did you think I could manage this if the guards were still at their posts?” Calvin smashed his cup against the floor and stood. The relief in him was enormous and very private. “You appear to have forgotten who commands this castle.”
He had planned this moment across many such banquets, watching the nobles arrive with their small retinues — never more than a hundred servants each, most of them stationed outside the walls. They had not imagined the host would turn. And why would they? It had been too long since someone at this table had been genuinely dangerous.
That someone was his daughter.
As the hall doors closed, the fireplace gave one long, guttering flicker.
The feudatories of Lista and Howes drew their swords. The lower nobles — the lesser men, the ones who had simply attended and eaten and waited to see how things resolved — looked at the floor and did not move.
“You’ve lost your mind,” Howes snapped.
Calvin had no patience for it. “Put down your weapons and surrender. You will be spared. Any resistance will be met with force.”
Then the two factions were moving, and the hall had no more use for words.
Chapter 523: The Blood Pearl
Translator: TransN Editor: TransN
In the evening, Calvin Kant summoned the nobles of the Northern Region to the castle.
The fireplace in the banquet room burned brightly with swaying flames, causing the guests’ shadows on the walls to dance up and down as if they formed a very unusual painting.
Four long tables traversed the hall, each placed full of steaming hot meat dishes and wine. It appeared to be a highly sumptuous dinner, yet the atmosphere was not relaxed at all. This was even more so after the Duke announced that King’s City had been seized.
“I’ve dispatched men to rescue the platoon that was sent out four days ago. Thankfully, they’ve returned alive,” he declared in a deep voice while sitting on the host’s seat. “But today, the question I want to ask you is… what should we do about the Northern Region?”
The nobles looked around the room blankly. Perhaps, the news that Timothy was defeated in a day was so astonishing that everyone in the hall was speechless and afraid to reply. Calvin could see the fear and regret in the eyes of the lower nobles. “Edith was right. We can’t depend on these people to defend against Roland Wimbledon. Dividing the land was never an option from the beginning—there’s only one path ahead.”
However, for the nobles who had only recently sought refuge with Timothy, it was rather embarrassing to openly turn around and switch allegiance.
“Why don’t we send a spy to eavesdrop on Prince Roland?” Someone in the room suggested after a long period of silence.
“If he doesn’t disturb the Northern Region, we may as well endorse him as the new king.” These words immediately garnered the approval of another noble. “These are the Wimbledon Family’s issues. It doesn’t make a difference to us who becomes the king.”
Upon hearing this, Earl of Lista laughed grimly. “No difference?”
Calvin frowned slightly and knew that the keynote was coming.
Indeed, after the Earl spoke, everyone in the room became silent, and this made Calvin feel a little uncomfortable. In reality, the three families were equal in strength, while the Kant Family was slightly inferior to the others. It was only because he had heeded his daughter’s advice and was first to play up to Timothy that he was able to obtain the position of Duke.
Of course, he also understood that this was one of the new king’s balancing tactics. Timothy was probably glad that the other two families belittled and were dissatisfied with him.
“Have you forgotten about Duke Ise? He was arrested for treason and executed.” Lista asked the room callously. “He didn’t actively provoke Timothy. If we admit defeat so early on, the noose may be tied around our necks at any time, and it would then be too late to struggle! In Prince Roland’s view, we’ve already participated in treason and none of us can deny our relations with Timothy!”
“What else can we do but admit defeat? If King’s City couldn’t even last a day, we would simply be throwing eggs at a rock…” One of Calvin’s feudatories, who looked like he had lost his usual vigor, retorted softly, in accordance with the agreement. Under the incensed gaze of the Earl, he was unable to enunciate the latter half of his sentence.
“Even if we only have eggs, I’ll try my best,” Ed Howes proclaimed. “The rebel king murdered my elder brother! He has to pay for it!”
“It may not be us holding the eggs. The Northern Region’s full of hills and mountains, and dangerous roads are all over. Roland’s army may be able to travel quickly over plains and rivers, but it’ll be a whole new game here.”
Earl Howes followed up swiftly. “At worst, the Horsehead Family will retreat to Coldwind Ridge, where I don’t believe that his army will be able to reach.”
“That’s as good as baring your entire back to the church,” Calvin silently thought. “Those f*ckers don’t harbor any good intention for the Northern Region either.” He had heard about what happened to the eldest son of the Howes Family. “It appears that he died in a fight against the lord of the Western Region… but death is inevitable in any war. If shouting could injure or kill enemies, there won’t be a need for weapons and armor.”
The hall started to become rowdy. As the Lista and Howes families stated their opinions, the voices which proposed to “halt the troops and get ready to fight the advancing enemy” gradually suppressed the ones which proposed to “actively pry on Prince Roland’s position and express friendliness.” Although Calvin remained silent throughout this discussion, he was beginning to feel quite anxious.
Surely Edith hasn’t run into trouble?
“What does the Honorable Duke think?” His long silence had become suspicious, and Earl Lista was now staring straight at him.
Calvin’s heart froze when he knew it was his turn to say something. “I brought all of you here tonight because I wanted to listen to everyone’s opinion. This matter is important to the future of the Northern Region and we can’t be too careful…”
Earl Howes interrupted him impatiently. “Enough! I’ve got a feeling that you’ve already planned to swear allegiance to Prince Roland. Why else would all those who expressed cowardly opinions happen to be your feudatories? If we’re to hand over power meekly now, we’ll just become lambs to the slaughter!”
“You…” Calvin felt an urge to toss his wine glass at the Earl but managed to refrain himself in time.
“Since that’s the case, we have nothing else to discuss.” Lista stood up and headed towards the banquet hall’s exit. “By the way, if you want Prince Roland to spare your pathetic life, you may offer Edith, all tied up, to him. I’ve heard that he highly appreciates beauty… ugh…”
The audience’s laughter ceased as the Earl turned silent unexpectedly. A sword tip visibly protruded out of his back. The blood stains on the blade seemed to shimmer dimly under the light from the fireplace.
“Are you talking about me, Sir Snow Fox? I can’t pretend that I didn’t hear what you said.”
The Earl’s body collapsed onto the floor feebly. The tall and lean figure of an armored warrior appeared in front of everyone. She pulled her sword out nonchalantly, stepped over the Earl who was still squirming in utter pain, and walked into the hall.
It was none other than Edith Kant herself.
Calvin immediately felt a great sense of relief.
Her armor plates were stained full of blood, an evidence that she had just been in a violent fight. Even so, she was as composed and elegant as ever— she had the face of a beautiful smiling assassin. A platoon of warriors followed behind her and surrounded the hall in the blink of an eye. By now, everyone that was present understood what had happened.
“The guards!” Earl Howes’ eyes widened as he spoke. “What have you done to the guards outside…”
“How can I deal with you lot if I hadn’t disposed of them first?” Calvin exhaled a sigh of relief and smashed his glass on the floor. “You seem to have forgotten that I’m the one in charge here!”
He had long awaited this moment. This kind of banquet was held every once in a few days, and as such, most of the nobles did not take many precautions. They were each accompanied by less than 100 servants, most of whom they instructed to keep watch outside the castle area. It was the perfect
opportunity to capture all of them together. After the guards had been taken care of, the rest was easy.
Of course, the person who planned and executed this trap was his daughter— the Pearl of the Northern Region, Edith.
As the exit doors of the banquet hall were slowly shut, the flames in the fireplace seemed to wobble for the last time.
The feudatories of the other two families pulled out their swords. By contrast, the lower nobles seemed shell-shocked.
“Are you out of your mind?” Ed Howes snapped angrily.
But Calvin had no time for a war of words. “If you put down your weapons and surrender, you’ll be spared.” All resistors will be killed!”
As the words left his tongue, two factions of people began to brawl.