Chapter 178

Chapter 178
## Chapter 178

“Silence! How dare you attempt to…!”

The Crown Prince, Claude, bellowed as he scrambled to regain his composure after witnessing Lucian’s chilling grin.

Yet, for some inexplicable reason, his throat produced no sound.

Despite the agonizing vibration of his vocal cords, the air around him remained hauntingly still.

“My, it appears His Highness the Crown Prince is completely spent. He is struggling even to form words.”

A mocking voice drifted into Claude’s ears while he reeled from the uncanny sensation.

Shifting his gaze, he spotted Marius, the figure known as the Court Mage, wearing a smirk heavy with hidden meaning.

In that instant, Claude grasped the reality of his predicament.

Sorcery! This practitioner of the black arts had cast a spell!

His voice had not failed him.

Though his throat worked and sound was generated, Marius was intercepting the noise before it could reach a single soul in the room.

Just as the fuming Claude lunged to seize Marius by the toggles of his robe, Hugo and Raymond clamped down on his arms.

“It is as you say. He cannot even maintain his balance.”

“We must escort him away at once. Your Highness, please come with us.”

Release me, you curs! How could you… Ungh!

Claude, thrashing in their grip, suddenly went rigid, his face contorting in a mute howl of pain.

Under the guise of assisting him, Hugo had leaned in and driven a hard blow into the sensitive space just beneath the Prince’s ribs.

While he was momentarily winded and paralyzed by the impact, the two men efficiently dragged Claude toward the private inner chambers.

“D-Duke…!”

As the terrified Dennis attempted to interject, Lucian’s eyes flicked toward him.

That stare, sharper than any blade, compelled Dennis to clamp his jaw shut and retreat into silence.

The brief, uncomfortable charade reached its conclusion.

Standing in the center of the now-quiet hall, Lucian struck his palms together to command the room’s focus.

Clap, clap.

“Now, with the formal sanction of His Highness the Crown Prince, the Northern Kingdom has been restored. This is a day of profound celebration.”

“M-My sincerest congratulations! Now, no dissident faction will presume to challenge Your Grace’s rightful path to the throne!”

Herman was the first to scramble forward, offering a low, sweeping bow.

It was a frantic effort to salvage his standing after his previous errors, no matter how small the gain.

Lucian’s mouth quirked into a smile as he looked down at Herman.

“It is largely due to your efforts. By demonstrating how one remains steadfast in conviction without being carried away by the whims of the crowd, you ensured I did not make a spectacle of myself.”

Beads of cold sweat broke out on Herman’s forehead at Lucian’s remark.

To an outsider, the tone seemed complimentary, but the hidden threat was paralyzing.

He had avoided embarrassment because of Herman?

Essentially, Lucian was admitting his hunger for the kingdom’s revival was so intense he would have acted the fool to achieve it.

This meant Herman had stood in direct opposition to the one thing Lucian desired above all else: the rebirth of the Northern Kingdom.

As Herman shook with the realization that a purge might be imminent, Lucian went on.

“Persist in offering your corrections should I ever wander from the proper course. While those who speak only sweet lies may find fleeting comfort on this soil, it is the truly upright who receive the favor of the Eight Gods of Heaven.”

Herman’s eyes widened in realization.

While the prose was dense, the final warning was crystal clear.

If I align with his desires, I may survive on scraps; if I continue to obstruct him, he will send me to meet the gods personally.

The allegory was far too pointed to be ignored.

Lucian wasn’t merely addressing Herman; he was broadcasting a final notice to the entire dissenting faction.

Grasping Lucian’s true aim, Herman dropped his head further and cried out.

“I am humbled by such magnificent praise! I shall keep your wisdom engraved in my heart, even when my spine is curved and the marks of age cover my skin!”

Even when my spine is curved and marks of age appear.

It was a desperate plea for a long life and a solemn promise that he would never again provoke Lucian’s ire.

Acknowledging the response with a sharp nod, Lucian rose to his feet.

“While we have received an unforeseen boon, it would be improper to turn a funeral gathering into a riotous gala. We shall toast this success at a later date; for this evening, let us remain dedicated to our primary task and conclude our period of grief for Sir Eisen.”

The guests bowed their heads, mirroring Lucian’s sophisticated demeanor as if nothing had happened.

However, regardless of their practiced masks, they could not suppress the deathly paleness of their faces.

Today’s events had stripped away all ambiguity regarding who held absolute authority in these chaotic times.

—

Lucian, the patron of the funeral banquet, exited the hall shortly thereafter.

He offered the pretext that he was concerned for the Crown Prince’s health and wished to oversee his recovery.

The moment Lucian disappeared, a boisterous shout rose from a corner of the chamber.

“Ha! Splendid! Simply magnificent!”

“Eternal glory to the Empire! Long live His Highness the Crown Prince!”

“And glory to the newly birthed Northern Kingdom!”

These were Lucian’s loyalists, guided by Lesta and Harald—the assembly that would henceforth be known as the ‘Royalist Faction.’

As if they had wiped the memory of honoring Sir Eisen from their minds, the Royalists began clinking their vessels in celebration.

Several aristocrats winced at the disrespectful display, but none possessed the courage to protest.

With the revival of the kingdom now an established fact, the North was effectively the domain of the Royalists.

The members of the Royalist Faction were well aware of this, speaking loudly and without regard for the glares of their peers.

“I never dreamed His Highness the Crown Prince would journey all the way to Asagrim!”

“I wonder what sorcery was employed. Perhaps a hidden relic of great power?”

“The method is irrelevant! What truly matters is that our legitimacy is now absolute and beyond question…!”

“Quiet, mind your speech! You’ll find yourself stripped of the Duke’s favor if you keep rattling on!”

“Ah, my apologies. I believe my joy simply got the better of my senses.”

Though the slip of the tongue caused a momentary pause, their jubilant expressions remained fixed.

Even before this night, Lucian had held a significant lead over other power-seekers because he championed the Crown Prince.

But now, he had moved beyond mere advantage; he had physically secured the Crown Prince, a figure who could generate legal authority at a whim.

Any nobleman who had previously pledged loyalty to the Prince was now bound to Lucian with unbreakable chains.

If Lucian gave a command using the Prince’s name, they were legally obligated to obey.

“I would give much to see the expressions of those fools who claimed they supported the Prince.”

“They likely pledged their loyalty on a whim, assuming he would rot in the capital’s dungeons forever.”

“Are you not being a bit cynical? Surely there is at least one genuine patriot among them.”

“Would a true patriot not be even more useful? They will execute the Prince’s decrees without a single doubt.”

“Quite right. Hahaha!”

With a sharp ring of glass, the Royalists toasted once more.

Harald and Lesta viewed the rowdy behavior of their allies with slight disapproval, but they did not move to silence them.

To suppress them now would only drive them into the shadows where even more reckless talk might occur.

‘Let them vent their excitement here under our watch, and only step in if they cross a line.’

‘I agree. If we muzzle them now, their urge to gossip will become uncontrollable.’

‘Once they have spoken their fill, we can ensure they maintain absolute discretion later.’

‘It is a chore managing those who lack foresight. The ultimate goal is still on the horizon.’

The two men let out heavy breaths, though in truth, their pulses were racing with anticipation.

On the heels of the Northern Kingdom’s restoration, they had managed to secure the person of the Crown Prince himself.

Lucian would undoubtedly seize this moment to project his power far beyond the borders of the North.

Countless power-hungry lords, who believed they had years to prepare, would be thrown into a frenzy by the sudden rise of a ‘King.’

Just the thought of the coming upheaval gave the two men a rush of satisfaction.

For the first time since the Empire’s inception, the North—always a peripheral player—was stepping into the role of the protagonist that would steer the fate of the entire realm.

“…”

“…”

In stark contrast to the raucous ‘Royalists,’ those who had stood against Lucian were shrouded in misery.

Lucian, already known as the Conqueror of the North, was now officially taking the crown as King.

It was no longer just a matter of political weight; he was now in a legal position to issue them direct royal commands.

Their spirits were crushed, yet they saw no path to resistance.

As long as Lucian held custody of the Crown Prince, blocking the kingdom’s restoration through legal channels was a lost cause.

“…I believe I shall retire for the night.”

“As shall I. A sudden illness has taken hold of me.”

“Until we meet again, then.”

They drifted away without lingering for conversation.

There was no point in sustaining a coalition to oppose the Royalists when the kingdom’s rebirth was already a fait accompli.

Alliances only lasted as long as they provided leverage.

It was safer to dissolve now than to risk being labeled an enemy by clinging to a defunct opposition group.

In one stroke, the very heart of the resistance against Lucian was being snuffed out.

*Not just the rebirth of the Northern Kingdom, but he even holds the Prince in his palms…!*

*Is this a hallucination? How can such a feat be possible?*

*I cannot linger. I must fly back at once and alert my master!*

The mourners from distant lands scrambled out of the hall, attempting to hide their shaking hands.

With the revival of the Northern Kingdom secured, the momentum of the era was now firmly in Lucian’s hands.

They had to return with all haste to consult their lords and prepare for the coming storm.

While the foreign dignitaries were rushing their departures, Tristan was desperately hunting for Lucian.

*How could this happen? How could this possibly happen…!*

Tristan felt the color leave his face from the sheer weight of the shock.

He had convinced himself that regardless of Lucian’s might, the man wouldn’t have the resources to govern the Grand Ducal House of Valdek directly.

The geography was too vast, and he assumed Lucian would be occupied with cementing his rule over the North.

But Lucian had claimed a throne, unified the northern territories, and obtained absolute legitimacy through the Prince.

He could now secure the North and dominate the Grand Ducal House simultaneously.

For Tristan, who had secretly felt he was indispensable to Lucian, this was a terrifying revelation.

*At this pace, I will become an afterthought to Lucian. If I am not careful, I won’t just lose his backing—I might vanish entirely. If he intends to oversee the Grand Ducal House himself, I am merely an obstacle.*

Tristan’s throat felt parched with anxiety.

The fear of being cast aside was no longer his primary concern.

He had to worry if he would be viewed as a potential competitor and executed.

He needed to speak with Lucian before a final verdict was reached in his absence.

However, just as Tristan approached the study, a figure stepped into his path.

“Well now, it has been quite a while. Do you still recall who I am?”

“…Sir Hugo.”

Tristan’s brow darkened as he looked upon Hugo’s face.

The street-born gutter rat who had been trailing Lucian since Bornholm.

Because he had possessed unremarkable talent and lacked even a knighthood back then, Tristan had never spared him a second glance.

But now, he had not only earned his spurs but was looking down on Tristan as Lucian’s most trusted advisor.

Swallowing a bitter wave of pride, Tristan tightened his grip and glared at Hugo.

“I care not for your motives, but if you have no direct business with me, step aside. I must speak with the Duke on matters of great urgency.”

“Oh, please. You are well aware of why I am standing here, so why the facade?”

“What are you implying?”

“The First Young Master’s utility has expired, has it not? It is time for you to depart.”

Looking at Hugo’s mocking grin, Tristan felt his heart plummet.

He had weighed the possibility of being removed, but he hadn’t anticipated the blow falling so swiftly.

“Did… did the Duke truly issue that command?”

“No, I am merely playing with you.”

“……”

A pulse throbbed visibly in Tristan’s temple.

Regardless of how their fates had flipped, to be mocked like this by a commoner from the slums…

“…You, you—!”

“He instructed you to prepare yourself, as we shall be departing to seize the Grand Ducal House shortly.”

“…!?”

Tristan, on the verge of an outburst, stopped dead.

The news was staggering, yet he couldn’t discern if it was reality or another cruel jest.

Noticing Tristan’s conflicted mask, Hugo added in a voice devoid of emotion.

“I am not playing with you this time.”

The smirk had completely vanished from Hugo’s features.