Chapter 176 - 172: Startling Change

Chapter 176: Chapter 172: Startling Change

A clear, calm voice, tinged with an elegant, almost apologetic tone, abruptly cut in.

The voice wasn’t loud, yet like a splash of ice water, it instantly doused the flames that had just been kindled, plunging the boisterous hall into an eerie silence.

Everyone—including Paris, Jon, Yed, and the nobles who had been seething with righteous fury just a moment before—turned toward the sound.

Near a pillar toward the back of the hall, a young man in a deep gray, exquisitely tailored Mage Robe slowly rose to his feet.

His features were chiseled, like a stone sculpture. His hair was meticulously slicked back, gleaming faintly in the bright candlelight.

The man gave a slight bow, his movements precise yet tinged with a proud aloofness.

His deep gray eyes, calm as a placid lake, swept across the hall before finally settling on Paris at the head table. A faint, yet seemingly sincere, hint of concern played at the corners of his mouth.

"What I mean is, the ’struggle’ you advocate for... its determination and courage are admirable."

"However, with the situation still unclear and the disparity in Power between our forces and the enemy’s so vast, is this not perhaps a bit too... radical?"

"Perhaps we could explore whether a more... ’accommodating’ solution might be found?"

Paris’s brow furrowed. His sharp gaze cut through the crowd, locking precisely onto the speaker.

’He recognized him—Adonis Gavin, second son of Sir Yadrol Gavin of Snow Pigeon Territory. A young man who had traveled far to study in the Mage Federation. With a mind honed by higher education, perhaps he really could offer a different perspective?’

So, suppressing his annoyance at the sudden interruption, Paris asked in a low voice.

"Mr. Gavin, at a time like this, any constructive suggestion is invaluable."

"Please, share your thoughts. What is this ’accommodating solution’ you speak of?"

Adonis gave another slight, elegant bow, his posture flawless.

"Thank you for your indulgence, Lord Viscount."

"My concern lies in the balance of Power and the reality of our predicament."

His gaze swept over the impassioned nobles, filled with a rationality that bordered on pity.

"Your courage and honor are moving, gentlemen, but we must face reality. The rebel army is strong, and its sphere of influence has already enveloped the territories of Snow Pigeon, Mudde, and many others."

"Even if Birch Territory is prosperous and powerful, with ample supplies to support us, fighting multiple territories with the strength of just one means victory on a conventional battlefield is unlikely."

"As for guerrilla tactics, while they offer flexibility and can wear down the enemy, this strategy has a fatal flaw: it would scatter our already limited forces."

"Just imagine, gentlemen—"

Adonis’s voice dropped, taking on a dangerous, chilly edge.

"What if, while we are away on raids, the rebels abandon secondary targets, secretly mass their main force, and strike directly at the heart of our gathering—Birch Town itself? In that moment, how would you guarantee the lives of everyone here, or the safety of the countless innocent civilians in Birch Town?"

"Once the very foundation we stand upon is destroyed, all our fighting spirit will amount to nothing."

"Is such a risk truly worth taking?"

His words were like a cold needle, precisely striking a nerve. Many of the lesser nobles, whose resolve was already shaky, immediately began to waver in their support for Paris.

Paris’s expression grew grim.

’He had to admit, the risk Adonis had pointed out was real.’

’But...’

"Your concerns... are not without merit, Mr. Gavin."

Paris’s voice was low but resolute, filled with an undeniable power.

"But that is no reason for us to choose compromise, to bend the knee and beg to survive!"

He straightened his spine, his voice booming as he repeated the maxim that had united their hearts.

"Seek peace through struggle, and peace will last! Seek peace through compromise, and peace will die!"

"The rebels don’t seek peace with us; they seek our utter enslavement and destruction! To bow to them is to hand them the butcher’s knife and let them slaughter us at will!"

He pointed to several Defender Warriors from the Sun Church, who stood solemnly in a corner of the hall, assisting with security. Their armor reflected a holy light under the chandeliers.

"Besides, Birch Town is not alone and helpless! We have the Defender Warriors of the Sun Church with us!"

"Their faith and their Power are the strongest rampart guarding this town! Their very presence is the greatest guarantee of our safety!"

Paris’s voice rang with confidence, attempting to dispel the gloom cast by Adonis’s words.

"The Defender Army... is indeed reassuring."

When Paris mentioned the Defender Army, the faint smile on Adonis’s lips seemed to catch the candlelight for a moment. It grew clearer, and even held a strange hint of... approval?

But the approval was fleeting, replaced by a deeper sigh that bordered on pity.

"Viscount Paris, your conviction and courage are as admirable as ever."

"You’re right. Under the protection of the Defender Army, Birch Town’s defenses are indeed more than adequate... but..."

The young Mage deliberately drew out the word, a sharp glint flashing in his deep gray eyes, like a dark current stirring beneath a sheet of ice.

He tilted his head, his gaze seeming to casually drift over the silent ’retainers’ standing behind each of the nobles. His voice suddenly rose.

"But what if... the attack were to happen right now? Inside this very hall? At the precise moment when we are all completely defenseless, believing ourselves to be in the safest place possible?"

"Wha—?!"

Paris’s pupils contracted violently. A chill shot up his spine, straight to the crown of his head.

The instant Adonis’s last syllable fell—

"Strike!"

A shrill, inhuman scream erupted, shattering the fervent atmosphere Paris had just managed to ignite in the hall.

In the crowd, Jon’s muscles had already tensed the moment Adonis’s words turned to "right now" and "in this very hall." A terrifying light exploded in his ice-blue eyes.

He roared almost in the same instant.

"Enemy attack!"

But the assault came faster than his warning.

Even as Jon shouted, several ’servants’ in uniform livery, who had been standing humbly with bowed heads behind their masters, snapped their heads up as if yanked by invisible strings.

The instant they looked up, their pupils dissolved into a turbid, writhing, deathly white.

Blackish-blue veins bulged grotesquely on their faces like living things. Their skin rapidly turned a withered, ashen gray, and they began to emit a thick, nauseating stench.

"Ghhh... RAAA..."

From the claw-like fingers of the ’retainer’ closest to Paris, jet-black talons shot out, glinting with a metallic sheen. With a shriek that tore the air, they stabbed straight toward the Viscount’s defenseless back.