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Translator: CinderTL
Roland gazed intently at the white-haired crown prince, his suspicions churning like a dark tide within him.
Despite his advanced age, Monen had personally led the Northern Border Legion, demonstrating his formidable strength. As Monen's son, Lucius must have mastered the profound Knight's Breathing Technique, granting him transcendent power and exceptional longevity.
Even if the Knight's Breathing Technique had the drawback of prematurely exhausting one's life force, causing a decline in strength after its peak, it could never explain Lucius's current state—emaciated, as if his life force were about to flicker out like a dying flame.
This degree of decay was alarmingly unnatural, almost like...
Some kind of corruption.
As Roland sank deeper into thought, Prince Lucius lifted his gaze, his slightly clouded eyes sweeping over the missions from the River Domain Nations.
He cleared his throat, his voice raspy and breathless with age, yet he still managed to maintain the royal family's customary dignity.
"Welcome... friends from the River Domain Nations," he said slowly, his words punctuated by stiff pauses, as if reciting an unfamiliar script.
"Thank you for traveling so far. May this scholarly exchange deepen the friendship and understanding between Golden Valley and the River Domain Nations."
After a few dry, perfunctory remarks, he didn't even glance at Roland before nodding slightly to signal the hosts to continue. He then turned to engage in a hushed conversation with a richly dressed noble beside him, as if he had just completed an obligatory duty.
In an instant, Roland and his group found themselves left standing awkwardly in place.
The banquet atmosphere remained lively, with the orchestra playing cheerful melodies and nobles raising their glasses, laughing and chatting animatedly. Yet none of it seemed to involve them.
This banquet, ostensibly held to welcome them, felt more like an ordinary social gathering for the Golden Valley Kingdom's elite. The "main characters" had become outsiders, an invisible barrier permeating the air.
The surrounding nobles occasionally cast glances their way, their gazes a mix of faint curiosity and condescending scrutiny—the natural arrogance of a powerful nation toward visitors from smaller states.
Though this attitude didn't manifest as overt rudeness to maintain appearances, the subtle sense of detachment and occasional muffled laughter made the River Domain Nations' students feel like they were sitting on pins and needles.
Instructor Reggie gave Roland a meaningful look and shook his head slightly, signaling him to ignore it.
But Roland had already lost interest.
Just then, a slight commotion at the banquet hall entrance drew everyone's attention.
Immediately afterward, the palace steward's clear and resonant voice rang out again, carrying a subtle but unmistakable note of solemnity beyond what he had used when announcing their arrival.
"Princess Gloria has arrived!"
As the announcement faded, Gloria, whom they had met briefly before, entered the banquet hall.
Her radiant golden hair cascaded like molten gold, shimmering under the crystal chandeliers. Her azure eyes were clear and resolute, yet her delicate features bore traces of weariness and an unmasked hint of worry.
Her arrival was like a splash of cool moonlight on a richly colored oil painting, instantly drawing all eyes.
However, Roland's gaze lingered only briefly on the princess's face before his brow furrowed slightly. He keenly sensed that the surrounding nobles' attitude toward her...
was far from respectful.
Gloria walked directly toward Prince Lucius, who was surrounded by a throng of people, and executed a graceful curtsy. Her bearing was elegant, yet it carried a palpable sense of detachment that set her apart from the assembled nobles.
"royal brother Lucius," she said, her clear voice cutting through the banquet's languid music.
Lucius, who had been engaged in conversation, turned at the sound of her voice. A fleeting flicker of surprise crossed his eyes, followed by...
an unmistakable coldness.
He studied her for a moment, as if only just recognizing her, his tone polite but distant.
"Gloria? When did you return?"
"I arrived in the royal capital last night."
Gloria straightened her posture, ignoring the curious glances from around the room, her voice growing urgent.
"royal brother, I rushed back because the 'withering' phenomenon in the Eastern Territory is spreading rapidly. Fertile lands are turning into barren wastelands, rivers are drying up, and the people live in constant fear. We must immediately mobilize relief supplies for the affected populations and thoroughly investigate the root cause of this phenomenon..."
But her words seemed only to irritate Lucius.
The aging prince waved his hand impatiently.
"More trivial matters? Gloria, can't you see I'm entertaining guests from afar? These matters can be discussed later; someone will handle them."
His dismissive tone made it clear he considered the unfolding catastrophe in the territory far less important than the banquet before him.
Hearing their exchange, Roland raised an eyebrow slightly. After a brief, hushed conversation with Reggie, he signaled Galvis and Theresa to prepare to leave.
Gloria, however, clearly had no intention of giving up.
She pressed her lips together, a flicker of disappointment and helplessness in her azure eyes.
Just as she took a deep breath, preparing to plead her case again, the banquet hall doors swung open once more.
Heavy footsteps echoed as a burly figure burst into the banquet hall.
"Sean..."
Roland froze, recognizing his friend's silhouette.
"Prince Lucius."
Sean strode to Lucius and knelt on one knee.
"Sean, captain of the Northern Border Legion, has returned under His Majesty Monen's secret orders. I have urgent military intelligence to report to you alone!"
The Northern Border War?
The royal capital's noble circles had long been steeped in blind optimism about the northern conflict. They firmly believed that with His Majesty Monen leading the campaign personally, victory was merely a matter of time.
Now, the sudden intrusion of a frontline officer into the banquet hall sent a ripple of hushed murmurs through the crowd. Curiosity and a subtle unease began to spread.
Prince Lucius, already irritated by the repeated interruptions, his face darkened completely. Gloria's "lack of tact" had already displeased him, and Sean's intrusion ignited his fury.
He slammed his wine glass onto the table with a sharp crack.
"Report alone?" Lucius's voice rose sharply, laced with offended anger. "There are no outsiders here! What military intelligence needs to be concealed from the loyal subjects of the Golden Valley Kingdom? Speak! Speak now, before everyone! Otherwise, I will have you executed on the spot for disrupting the court and delaying military affairs!"
The sudden outburst of anger silenced the entire fairground.
Roland, standing in a corner, narrowed his eyes slightly. He peered through the crowd, scrutinizing Lucius's every move.
Whether it was his imagination or not, just as Sean burst in, before the prince's fury erupted, Roland seemed to catch the faintest upward twitch at the corner of Lucius's lips.
As Lucius's words hung in the air, the once-boisterous banquet hall fell into deathly silence.
Sean stiffened abruptly. He raised his head, his eyes filled with shock and unease. His Majesty Monen's secret directive to investigate the traitor within the court was utterly inappropriate for public disclosure in such a setting.
He opened his mouth, attempting to report only the general setbacks in the war.
"Your Highness, the situation in the Northlands... the orc offensive is exceptionally fierce. Our forces... our forces have suffered temporary setbacks. His Majesty hopes..."
"Setbacks?"
"How could this be?"
Murmurs of disbelief began to spread among the nobles.
Just as Sean struggled to find the right words, trying to conceal the most critical details, a sinister voice cut through the air. It was none other than Earl Auston, who had previously fled in disgrace. Now, his face twisted with undisguised malice, he deliberately raised his voice.
"Oh? Just reporting on the battle? Captain Sean, if I recall correctly, His Majesty Monen mentioned a highly important 'special instruction' that he wished to personally convey to His Highness before your departure. Surely that counts as urgent business?"
Auston's words struck like a viper's fangs, piercing Sean's carefully guarded secret.
Sean's face drained of color, turning deathly pale.
He glared fiercely at Auston, then shifted his gaze to Prince Lucius, whose expression was dark and eyes flashed with cold fury.
Caught between the prince's menacing "speak or die" stare and Auston's venomous words, Sean finally closed his eyes in despair. When he reopened them, his voice was dry, heavy, and filled with resignation.
"His Majesty noted the orcs' unnervingly precise movements. He suspects... that someone within the kingdom is leaking military intelligence to the orcs. Therefore, he secretly ordered Prince Lucius to investigate and uncover... uncover any potential traitors..."
The moment the words left his lips, the entire banquet hall fell into absolute silence.
The music ceased, all conversation abruptly stopped.
Wine glasses hung suspended in mid-air, and the lavish feast lay untouched.
The hall, which had moments ago been filled with an atmosphere of lighthearted revelry, now seemed frozen by an invisible frost.
Every noble's face was etched with shock, disbelief, and a faint, carefully concealed undercurrent of panic beneath their opulent facades.
The seed of suspicion had been publicly sown.
(End of the Chapter)
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