Chapter 177

Chapter 177
## Chapter 177

From the moment the prospect of restoring the Northern Kingdom was raised, the guests mourning in Asagrim split into three distinct factions.

The first group consisted of the nobility who favored the restoration, with Lesta and Harald acting as their spokesmen.

The second group was comprised of lords, including Herman, who stood in opposition to the idea.

The third group included dignitaries from foreign lands who possessed no personal stake in Northern affairs.

Depending on their goals, these three circles convened at every available opportunity to trade rumors and debate. The weight of re-establishing the Northern Kingdom was far too significant for anyone to ignore or overlook.

However, the moods within these gatherings varied wildly.

“Lord Lesta, the Grand Duke’s behavior isn’t at all what we anticipated, is it?”

“Are we going to be blamed for sparking a fire we can’t put out?”

In contrast to their previous enthusiasm, the first faction was visibly unsettled by Lucian’s indifferent attitude. They had initiated this movement to curry favor with him, but now they lived in constant dread that they had actually provoked his ire.

“Perhaps the number of lords who pledged support was too small, causing him to lose interest.”

“This is why I argued we should have all come forward at once. Why did you insist on keeping half of us in the shadows…?”

“Didn’t you claim that was a brilliant strategy just a few days ago?”

“I assumed this scheme was built on a perfect understanding of His Grace’s desires, but look at this mess!”

Their original intent had been straightforward.

Initially, only half the supporters would loudly demand the kingdom’s return. They expected Lucian to play hard to get, asking for time to deliberate. In that window, the remaining half would step out, pretending they had been won over by the merit of the argument.

By appearing as “converts” rather than conspirators, they hoped to drag the neutral lords along with the tide of popular opinion.

“The goal was to manipulate more than half the nobility into supporting us that way…”

“But with His Grace acting so cold, we’ll be lucky to keep the supporters we already have!”

“Lord Lesta, Lord Harald. Don’t just sit there. What is the plan?”

The frustrated gazes of the house leaders locked onto the two men. However, Lesta and Harald remained unfazed by the criticism, merely clicking their tongues in disappointment.

“You are focused on the individual trees while ignoring the forest. Do you truly understand the Grand Duke so little?”

“What are you implying?”

“If he genuinely opposed the restoration, he would have shut us down instantly. Instead, he left the door open and gave us exactly three days. What does that suggest to you?”

“…?”

“It means he requires three days to arrange his affairs. Until then, there is no reason to push him.”

The two leaders were convinced by Lucian’s vague demeanor. Lucian wanted the situation left in a state of flux—a calculated move to keep his opponents from forming a solid defense by refusing to give a definitive “yes” or “no.”

“Therefore, we do nothing. We simply wait until the Grand Duke has completed his own preparations.”

“I see.”

“If you are certain…”

Though tension had flared, the lords grew quiet once more, reassured by the calm confidence of their leaders. The opinions of Lesta and Harald, who spent more time with Lucian than anyone, carried a unique authority.

The other factions, however, were not so easily pacified.

“What is the Duke playing at? Why is he being so non-committal?”

“How should I know? Things didn’t explode, so let’s just count our blessings and move on.”

“Move on? How can you be so reckless when we have no idea what he’s plotting for later?!”

“Then what do you suggest? We can’t build a strategy without knowing his true thoughts!”

The dissenters, led by Herman, were in a state of total disorder. Lucian was known as a man who seized every possible advantage. It was unthinkable that such a person would turn down a crown merely out of concern for public opinion.

It was obvious he was weaving a deeper plot, but their inability to decipher it left them in a state of high-strung anxiety. Their arguments went in circles until, exhausted, they nearly abandoned the discussion entirely.

“Regardless, it’s a relief that the Duke isn’t showing blatant ambition yet.”

“Let’s just pray it stays that way.”

Essentially, they stopped trying to outthink him and placed their bets on luck. It was a hollow hope, but since logic offered no path forward, it was all they had.

The third group, meanwhile, found no comfort at all.

“If the North truly becomes a kingdom again, it’s the end of everything.”

“Don’t worry, it won’t happen. Do you realize how difficult such a feat is?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. More than a dozen lords were already shouting for it.”

“If by some impossible stroke of luck—some freak miracle—the North actually unites…”

The nobleman from the exterior territories trailed off, unable to finish the thought. If the Northern Kingdom rose again, it would be a superpower. The fate of the entire era could be settled before their own rulers even had a chance to vie for dominance.

It was a nightmare scenario they preferred not to voice. Frustrated by the uncertainty, one noble turned toward Tristan, who was standing nearby.

“Does Lord Tristan have any insight? You are, after all, a member of the Duke’s own bloodline.”

“…Are you trying to insult me?”

“M-my apologies. That was a poor choice of words.”

The noble recoiled under Tristan’s chilling glare. In reality, Tristan was the most unsettled person in the room.

If Lucian took the throne and consolidated the North, his power would eventually swallow Valdek. The need for Tristan to serve as a puppet would evaporate. Lucian could simply seize the family legacy and rule it in his own name.

‘Is this what he meant? That he could take the Grand Ducal House of Valdek without my help?’

Tristan ground his teeth, remembering Lucian’s earlier threats. The timing was too perfect to be an accident. He desperately wanted to intervene, but as an outsider in Asagrim, he was powerless. He could only place his destiny in the hands of the Eight Gods of Heaven and wait.

As these groups stewed in their confusion, the three days elapsed, and the final farewell feast began.

—

“I hereby proclaim the restoration of the Northern Kingdom.”

“…!?”

The assembled lords were stunned by Lucian’s announcement, which he delivered the moment he entered the hall. Instead of seeking counsel, he spoke as though the matter was already settled law. The cautious, hesitant man from three days ago was nowhere to be found.

“G-Grand Duke. As we discussed, this requires the approval of the First Prince, the rightful heir to the throne…”

“I have already secured that approval.”

“What?”

“His Highness the First Prince has endorsed the return of the kingdom. He has further informed me that he will personally bestow the crown upon me. It is a day of great honor.”

“…!?”

“Words are unnecessary. He is present, so you may witness it for yourselves.”

Lucian looked away from the paralyzed nobility and gave a curt nod. At that signal, the heavy doors of the hall were thrown open with a resounding crash.

When the figure entered, those who had recently been to the capital gasped in disbelief.

“The—The First Prince!”

“It really is His Highness!”

Seeing the First Prince, whose face was twisted in a mask of fury, the lords felt their knees grow weak. Why was the First Prince, who was supposed to be a prisoner in Tivron, standing here?

As the crowd stared in shock, the First Prince strode forward, flanked by his retinue. There was Hugo and Raymond the knights, Felicia, the newly ascended Sword Saint, and Marius, the Court Mage, followed by his students.

The lords gulped as they saw Lucian’s most loyal warriors surrounding the Prince.

“What are you waiting for? Bow before the true heir of the Empire!”

At the sharp command from First Prince Claude, the Northern lords hesitated briefly before sinking to the floor. They held no love for the throne, but Lucian had publicly declared his allegiance to this man. To refuse to bow now would be an act of defiance against Lucian himself.

Claude surveyed the kneeling crowd with pride, then fixed his gaze on a specific corner.

“Why are you lot still standing?”

“…”

The visitors from outside the North ignored him. Their masters did not recognize Claude’s claim, so they would not kneel. Just as Claude was about to lose his temper, Dennis leaned in and whispered to him.

“Your Highness. Those are rebels who deny your right to rule. They will never obey your commands.”

“…Curse them.”

Hearing this, Claude gnashed his teeth but stayed his hand. He realized the futility of ordering those who had already decided to defy him.

As a fuming Claude reached the raised platform, Lucian dropped to one knee and spoke.

“Your Highness, I humbly make my request.”

“Hmph.”

Claude snorted, a cruel sneer touching his lips. He then turned to the crowd and shouted at the top of his lungs.

“Listen well, subjects of the Empire! I was once a captive of the traitor Cedric, but after a harrowing escape, I found shelter with Duke Lucian!”

“…”

“However, ignoring the kindness of the Late Emperor, this Duke held me captive and suppressed my existence while demanding the North be made a kingdom and he be made a king! How tragic! What would the Late Emperor think of such betrayal?!”

“…!?”

The hall was filled with horror as Claude’s accusations rang out. No one could fathom what was happening. Instead of confirming the kingdom, he was publicly branding Lucian a criminal.

While the room was still reeling, Claude struck the final blow.

“To kidnap the future Emperor and demand a ransom is high treason! Therefore, I strip the traitor Lucian Grimaldi Valdek of all rank and title! Loyal citizens! Arrest this traitor immediately!”

The banquet hall fell into a deathly silence. The shock of Claude’s arrival was nothing compared to this immediate, violent clash with the Duke. Minds went numb; no one knew which way to turn.

At that moment, Lucian stood up and called out to the lords.

“Did you hear His Highness? He has just officially sanctioned the Northern Kingdom and appointed me as its King!”

“…!?”

“Thus, I proclaim the restoration of the Northern Kingdom! Long live the Empire! Long live the First Prince, the only true heir!”

At Lucian’s bizarre response, the lords were baffled, and even Claude looked horrified. He had just called the man a traitor; why was Lucian speaking as if he’d been blessed?

“You’ve lost your mind. What kind of lunacy is this?”

“I understand. I shall take it upon myself to ensure Your Highness’s safety from this day forward, so please, retire to the palace and rest.”

“What?”

“Now, why are you all silent? Everyone, follow my lead! Long live the First Prince!”

Claude laughed, finding Lucian’s performance absurd, but the lords didn’t share the sentiment. They understood exactly what Lucian was doing.

Even with the Prince screaming “traitor” in his face, Lucian was going to ignore the words and frame the narrative that the Northern Kingdom had been legally established. It meant he didn’t care about the Prince’s actual opinion; he was merely using the Prince’s physical presence as a stamp of legitimacy.

It was a standoff where the Prince had disowned his only support, and the Duke had decided to use that Prince as a brainless puppet.

In the midst of this unprecedented tension, a voice broke the silence.

“…Long live the First Prince, who has authorized our Northern Kingdom!”

“Long live the Empire! All glory to the future Emperor!”

Lesta and Harald stood up, throwing their weight behind Lucian. Following their lead, the Northern lords who were loyal to Lucian began to rise and join the chant.

“Long live the Northern Kingdom! Long live the First Prince!”

“Glory to the rightful successor!”

These people had always been loyal to Lucian, not the crown. If Lucian decided the Prince was a puppet, they would treat him as one.

As the shouting grew louder, even the opposition, including Herman, eventually stood up.

“Long live the First Prince!”

“Death to the usurper Cedric!”

“…!?”

Some were shocked to see the dissenters join in, but it was purely logical. Those who opposed Lucian also had no loyalty to the Imperial family. Regardless of the law, the only thing that mattered was the power right in front of them—a power capable of erasing their bloodlines.

To side with the First Prince now would mean a war they couldn’t win. Rather than dying for a throne they didn’t care about, it was easier to accept the new kingdom and keep their heads.

“Ahem.”

“Hmph.”

The visiting nobles watched in silence, pretending they were elsewhere. While Lucian was making a mockery of the Prince, they hadn’t recognized Claude’s authority anyway. Since they had treated him even worse than Lucian—who at least maintained the illusion of his rank—they weren’t about to protest.

Furthermore, they were guests in a foreign land with no soldiers. To challenge Lucian in Asagrim was a suicide mission. The only smart move was to look the other way.

“Long live the First Prince!”

“Long live the Empire!”

“What is wrong with you people?! This man is a traitor! Seize him! I said kill him!”

Claude was spiraling into madness as the entire room ignored his screams with singular focus. A chilling terror, the feeling of being the only sane man in a world of ghosts, washed over him.

As Claude pointed a trembling finger at Lucian, his hand was suddenly caught in a firm grip.

“Your Highness, you seem exhausted. Your hand is shaking so much; how can you possibly manage the weight of the Empire?”

“You—You…!”

“Go inside and sleep. I will ensure you have hot tea and a comfortable bed.”

Lucian spoke with a thin smile at the gasping, shaking Claude.

“From this moment on, I will take care of all the heavy lifting for you.”