Chapter 129 : Chapter 129

Chapter 129. Russell?!

Orlandia, the royal capital.

After traveling day and night without pause, the carriages and horses of the Western Frontier delegation finally entered this vast and ancient capital city.

As the delegation’s nominal leaders, Marquess Marcus and Marquess Claude did not linger.

After properly settling the other accompanying nobles of the Western Frontier in the special inn Federico had already prepared for them, they brought only a few trusted guard knights and headed straight for the headquarters of the Royal Capital Garrison without stopping for even a moment.

There, they met up with Marquess Toscana, who had already received word in advance.

With three heavyweight marquesses of the Western Frontier gathered together, there was no needless exchange of pleasantries.

They merely traded a glance, then tacitly turned in unison and made for the royal palace.

The atmosphere in the royal palace was now completely different from the way it had once been.

The number of patrolling soldiers inside and outside the lofty palace walls had clearly increased severalfold.

And they were no longer the splendidly dressed palace guards of former days. In their place stood squad after squad of elite troops clad in armor and radiating a murderous air.

Most of their armor bore the crests of the various families of the Western Frontier.

Clearly, after the upheaval in the royal capital, the defenses here had already been firmly taken under the control of the Western Frontier’s forces.

Fortunately, with Marquess Toscana, who was in charge of the capital’s defense, personally leading the way, the process went quickly.

After passing through layer upon layer of guards, the three men finally arrived outside the Regent’s office in the core district of the royal palace.

Before the heavy oak doors stood eight fully armored Golden Lion Knights, rigid as statues.

The knight captain at their head clearly recognized Marquess Toscana, and he recognized Marcus and Claude as well, these two great ministers of the Western Frontier.

He did not dare show the slightest negligence. Stepping forward, he struck his chest in salute with his right fist.

Then he turned toward the doors and raised his voice in respectful announcement.

“Your Highness the Regent! Marquess Toscana, Marquess Claude, and Marquess Hohenzollern request an audience!”

A deep voice came from within. “Enter.”

Only then did the knight captain step aside, carefully push open the heavy doors, and gesture for the three marquesses to proceed.

Marcus stepped in first, with Claude and Toscana following close behind.

The room was brightly lit, and the broad desk was piled high with mountains of scrolls and documents.

And seated behind that desk, the desk that symbolized the highest authority in the kingdom, was an old man.

When the eyes of Marcus and Claude fell upon him,

the steps of both men faltered almost imperceptibly at the same time, and they exchanged a glance full of shock.

That was the Duke of the Western Frontier, the Guardian of the Western Frontier, and now the Regent of the Kingdom of Orlando.

But at this moment, he was utterly different from the tireless and imposing Guardian of the Western Frontier preserved in Marcus and Claude’s memories.

He seemed to have aged by more than ten years in a very short span of time.

His silver hair, once groomed without a single strand out of place, now looked somewhat disordered.

Heavy bags hung beneath his eyes, and the wrinkles on his face were etched as deeply as knife cuts.

Those eyes, once as sharp as a lion’s, were shot through with blood. Though they remained deep and unfathomable, they could not conceal the profound weariness within.

This old man was carrying the kingdom’s heaviest burden all by himself.

Federico lifted his gaze and looked at his old subordinates, dusty from the long journey from the Western Frontier. A trace of remembrance surfaced in his eyes.

When a man grows old, he always seems more prone to thinking of the past.

“We pay our respects to Your Highness the Regent!” Suppressing the turbulence in their hearts, the three marquesses stepped forward together, struck their chests with their right fists, and bowed.

Federico lifted a hand slightly. “There is no need for such formality. There are no outsiders here.”

Only then did the three men straighten.

Looking at Federico’s weary face, Marquess Claude could not help stepping forward.

“Your Grace, although state affairs are pressing, you must also take care of your health.

Many things could be entrusted to those below you...”

Federico gently shook his head and cut him off, as though unwilling to dwell on the matter.

“Tell me about the Western Frontier... How is it now?” His gaze turned to Marcus and Claude, questioning.

Though he had absolute confidence in his brother Lucius, the Western Frontier was still his root in the end.

Seeing this, Marquess Marcus could only swallow back his words of advice.

“Please rest assured, Your Grace! Everything in the Western Frontier is well!

Sir Lucius has brought the Western Frontier into excellent order. Large numbers of refugees have been gathered in and resettled, and stability has been maintained.

Authority over the entire Western Frontier still remains firmly in the hands of Thorne City, without the slightest unrest.”

He paused, then added, “Also, thanks to the arrangements previously made by Your Grace and Sir Lucius,

a great number of Frontier Lords and noble families have been drawn in to invest, and the Western Frontier’s tax revenues have been rising steadily as well.”

Federico listened quietly, with no clear expression on his face, only giving a faint nod.

Marcus continued, his tone turning forceful. “As for military matters, please rest assured. I can also personally guarantee it to you!

After reinforcement and reorganization, the Thorne defensive line is absolutely impregnable and secure beyond doubt!

We will absolutely never repeat...”

“Marcus!” At his side, Marquess Claude hurriedly interrupted in a low voice, stopping the words that had nearly slipped out.

Marcus froze for a moment, then immediately realized what he had almost said. A trace of chagrin flashed across his face.

The fall of Storm City was a shared scar and humiliation in the hearts of the people of the Western Frontier. To mention it in front of Federico was no different from tearing open the wound.

He coughed awkwardly and quickly changed the subject.

“Oh, right... There is one more matter, Your Grace.

Sir Lucius seems... to regard a Frontier Lord named Eli Pendragon quite highly.

He even appears... to intend to arrange a marriage alliance between him and the La Roche Family.”

This news did indeed catch Federico’s attention, and he lifted his eyelids.

“Mm. Lucius seems to have mentioned this to me.”

At this point, Marquess Claude was hearing of the matter for the first time, and surprise immediately appeared on his face.

Only now did he understand why, back in Thorne City, Sir Lucius had specially introduced that obscure young baron to him.

So Sir Lucius thought that highly of him?

“Eli Pendragon?” Marquess Toscana, who had remained silent and listening until now, interjected thoughtfully.

“If I remember correctly... his original name was Eli Black, wasn’t it?

The son of Marquess Leon of House Black in the Royal Domain?”

“That is indeed him.” Marcus nodded in confirmation. “The lad may be young, but he truly does have some ability.

Not only did he gain a firm foothold in the wasteland, he also took Lucerne City.

And not long ago, he worked with Ron to swiftly put down Sabda Medici’s rebellion in Runestone City.”

After hearing the report on the Western Frontier, a trace of relief finally appeared on Federico’s face.

“With Lucius in the Western Frontier, I am naturally at ease.

For the time being, I cannot leave the royal capital. As for all affairs of the Western Frontier, you are to continue obeying his arrangements and deployment as before.”

“Yes, Your Grace!” the two marquesses answered in unison.

Excitement appeared once again on Marquess Marcus’s face as he stepped forward.

“Your Grace, there is also one more matter of the utmost importance!

Sir Lucius is already making plans and preparing to recover Storm City and the other lost lands!”

Federico did not seem surprised by this at all. His tone remained calm.

“Mm. Lucius has already reported his preliminary ideas and reasoning to me in detail by letter.”

“I considered it for a long time... weighing the advantages and disadvantages from every angle.

Indeed... we cannot delay any longer, whether internally or externally.

We must reclaim the initiative as soon as possible and rebuild the Storm Defense Line.”

He raised his head and looked at Marcus. “This matter will be placed entirely in your hands to assist Lucius with.

The armies and resources of the Western Frontier may be deployed by the two of you as needed. As for the kingdom...”

He pondered for a moment. “I will raise the matter at the next royal council meeting, but you must be mentally prepared.

The kingdom’s internal situation is not yet stable, and the intentions of the other frontiers are difficult to read. The likelihood of securing major military support from the kingdom is not high.

But I will do my utmost to obtain sufficient support for you in food, weapons, and armor.”

Hearing this, Marquess Marcus was not disappointed in the least. Instead, he struck his breastplate heavily.

“Your Grace, that is more than enough!

With your word alone, we will definitely drive those Federation scum back into the desert!

Hmph! And if it had not been for them back then... Storm City would never have been breached so easily!”

At the side, Marquess Claude let out a sigh, and humiliation and grief rose on his face as well.

The fall of Storm City was a shame that could never be washed away for every noble of the Western Frontier.

After all, in the thousand years since Storm City was founded, it had only ever been breached once before, and that was by Caesar Aurora, the founding monarch of Orlando.

Yet under their watch, that humiliation had been repeated a second time.

Everyone knew full well that the reason Storm City had fallen so quickly was partly because its troops had been drawn away.

But the main reason was most likely the kingdom’s internal problems.

Federico fell silent, and the atmosphere in the office immediately grew oppressive and heavy.

For this Duke of the Western Frontier, that memory was likewise branded into his bones as a source of self-reproach.

Seeing this, Marquess Toscana spoke at the proper moment.

“Your Grace, regarding His Majesty the King’s murder, have any new leads been uncovered in the last few days?”

At the mention of that matter, Federico’s expression darkened even further.

“A few days ago, I intended to remove Bernard from his post as Minister of Intelligence.

The King was assassinated, and he cannot escape blame. He bears grave responsibility for a major failure of oversight.”

All three marquesses listened intently.

“However,” Federico continued, changing course, “he presented me with a report.

He claimed that, after an overnight interrogation of Vilus Montauban, the son of Cons Montauban, he had achieved a major breakthrough.

According to Vilus’s confession, the kingslayer was indeed none other than his father, Cons Montauban.

Cons intended to poison both me and His Majesty the King during Hunting Day, then shift the blame onto me.

He himself would then seize the opportunity to take the young Prince Aiden hostage, control the court, and steal supreme power.”

“What?!”

“How dare he?!”

“That is monstrously vicious!”

Even though the three marquesses had already been mentally prepared, hearing the full conspiracy laid out with their own ears still filled them with shock and fury.

Marquess Claude furrowed his brows and voiced his doubt.

“Your Grace, forgive my boldness.

If both you and His Majesty were his targets, then why was it only His Majesty the King who...

That old fox Cons has always acted with meticulous care. He should not have made such a crude mistake...”

“Bernard said he also harshly interrogated Velik Montauban, the cupbearer whom Cons had arranged to serve the King.

Velik has already confessed and admitted his involvement in the matter. He admitted that he only poisoned the largest cask of wine.

But when Cons handled the distribution, he ‘accidentally’ gave that entire cask to the King.

So... I survived by chance.”

The explanation sounded reasonable on the surface, but it carried an indescribably awkward air.

“This...” Marquess Marcus’s thick brows drew together tightly. He was clearly unable to accept it.

“Your Grace, that is far too convenient!

Where is that cupbearer? Let me interrogate him myself! I guarantee I’ll make him spit out the truth!”

Federico shook his head. “Bernard reported that Velik Montauban...

after confessing to part of his crimes, committed suicide the day before yesterday... out of fear of punishment.”

“He died?” Marcus stared for a moment, then anger surged across his face.

“Why did he have to die right then of all times?! That is obviously silencing him! Then let me interrogate Cons!”

“He will not say anything.” At the side, Marquess Toscana said gravely, “Your Grace, if that is the case, then that Minister of Intelligence, Bernard, most likely...”

He did not finish the sentence, but the meaning was already unmistakable.

Federico nodded. “Which is why, over these last few days, I have not alerted the enemy.

Instead, I secretly ordered Count Bos to keep Bernard’s movements under close surveillance.

And we found that he... has indeed had secret contact with people from the Eastern Frontier.”

“The Eastern Frontier?” In an instant, Marquess Marcus’s fury found a new direction.

Anger rose on Marquess Toscana’s face as well.

“The Russell Family again? What in the world are they trying to do?!

Aside from the Queen, does the King’s murder also have something to do with them?”

Federico did not answer directly, but his silence itself was already an answer.