Chapter 1488 - 951: Internal Conflict

Chapter 1488: Chapter 951: Internal Conflict

The atmosphere in the banquet hall abruptly grew tense, a suffocating sense of oppression diffusing through the air.

Carroll’s face turned livid in an instant, thunderbolt-like fury clenching between his brows; clearly, he was utterly enraged.

"Alfred! Are you openly accusing the Kingdom’s army of being incompetent? The hardships of our forced march, the harassment we suffered from Void Creatures, are brutal fact.

"The Night Watchers... the Night Watchers, yes, their Power is formidable, but their very existence is the root of a subversive and chaotic upheaval."

His voice suddenly rose, sharp as a blade slicing through the silence:

"Look at what they have brought? Those Adventurer’s Houses, spreading savagely everywhere like a plague. They let those lowly mud-legged wretches who used to toil in the fields or quietly labor in the workshops gain Power just by making a vow.

"Once they have Power, they start to stir restlessly, grow defiant and unruly, refusing discipline! Demanding reduced rents and taxes, demanding all sorts of so-called ’rights’!

"In these past two years, how many bloody incidents have there been in the Kingdom where nobles were slain and estates attacked?

"Behind which of them was there not the shadow of those Adventurers who have gained Power, or discontented commoners? This is the seed of turmoil and betrayal sown by the Night Watchers!"

With a weapon in one’s heart, the will to kill arises of itself.

This is the naked, true portrait of the commoners now.

This is a Level-rigid Extraordinary society.

Individual strength carries an indisputable, absolute suppressive force, coupled with the thorough and complete monopoly of various forms of Magic and knowledge.

Coupled further with a multitude of complex Races and wars.

Extraordinary Power has indeed advanced at a tremendous pace; every kind of exquisite Alchemy Technology, efficient teleportation techniques, profound spatial techniques, and advanced levitation techniques are all manifestations of that brilliant progress.

But when it falls upon the commoners, it brings them no benefit whatsoever.

For those aloof above barely spare them a thought.

They are merely the humble foundation upon which Extraordinary beings are born; it is enough simply to maintain a certain quantity, there is no need to pay excessive attention.

This has almost become a deeply rooted common sense.

And they themselves possess no Power.

In this Extraordinary world, there is no such thing as ’numbers make strength.’

Even if, in a single town, hundreds or thousands of commoners full of rage were to gather, they would still be mercilessly slaughtered to the last one by just a handful, a dozen Guards wielding Extraordinary Power.

To silently accept with meek resignation, until they themselves grow accustomed to it—that is the final outcome.

Because they have no Power.

Yet the Night Watchers’ gift has bestowed Power.

The existence of Adventurer’s Houses and Bards, and those widely circulating newspapers, have bestowed thought.

The two combined have produced the violent upheaval now roiling the lower strata of many countries.

As Carroll spoke he grew ever more agitated; his fingers, trembling with fury, hammered hard upon the polished tabletop:

"And prices! Look at the markets now! Grain, cloth, ironware... the prices of everything have fallen so low that nobles feel their hearts bleeding, a pain as if their marrow were being sucked dry.

"Those noble houses that have lived for generations off ancestral estates and fiefs have seen their income plunge like an avalanche, horribly and sharply reduced; the finances of their domains are on the brink of deficit.

"How many illustrious families have gone bankrupt because of this, their former dignity swept away. All of it is due to the Night Watchers’ malicious manipulation of the market, using those... those bizarre, irrational, absurd and unfathomable methods of theirs to force prices down.

"They have brazenly shattered the ancient and sacred Order and foundation upon which the Kingdom runs!"

Carroll’s voice carried hysterical rage and a profound terror at being crushed beneath the wheel of the times; his hand shaking, he pointed at the lavish food upon the table.

"Just like here! These things are cheap now, yes—but have you considered that those nobles who have lost everything, who are now destitute and without income, can no longer even maintain the bare minimum of a luxurious life befitting noble decorum? The Night Watchers are the utterly evil and unforgivable prime culprits behind all this chaos!"

In the eyes of nobles—or rather, in the eyes of those at the top of the entire world—such a narrative is flawless, without the slightest problem.

The reason they are Lords, are nobles, is precisely because they were born with such rights, is it not?

They are born noble.

They themselves are meant to be far nobler, far more important than those commoners.

Otherwise why would they be nobles, and I be a Lord?

This is a perfectly correct narrative, entirely beyond reproach. Among the noble class at present, no one would refute Carroll’s words or consider them mistaken.

Even in the eyes of some commoners, this is so.

The gift of Extraordinary Power truly can be passed down through bloodlines; that is an unquestionable absolute.

In this world, families of a hundred or a thousand years’ standing exist as unshakable, absolute presences, and they are everywhere, as numerous as cattle.

Count Raymond listened calmly, as if detached and unconnected to it all, quietly hearing him out. With elegant poise he speared a crystal-clear grape and placed it in his mouth, slowly savoring its cool sweetness that refreshed the heart and mind.

It was as though Carroll’s heated tirade were merely some inconsequential, weightless background music to the feast.

His gaze was deep and unfathomable, like a dark pool, betraying no obvious inclination.

Wisely, he did not join the verbal confrontation between the two.

When Alfred had heard Carroll’s fierce indictment, no anger showed on his face; instead, a trace of calm appeared—a calm tinged with compassion and insight, a profound, pitying sorrow.