Chapter 257: The Gates of the Kingdom

The King listened in silence, his eyes piercing right through his son’s motives. The monarch knew full well that Caelen planned to use the journey to execute or silence Count Gideon along the way, erasing any living witness to his humiliation.

"Your wish to lead the delegation is granted, Caelen," interjected the King, his voice echoing across the chamber, "and I permit you to take former General Valerius so he may answer with his life for the security of the journey. However, Count Gideon shall remain under medical custody in the Auditors’ tower. His tactical knowledge and value to the crown are far too precious to risk once more in the forest before his full recovery."

The monarch paused, narrowing his gaze as he corrected his son’s stance before he caused a diplomatic disaster:

"Furthermore, your approach is far too arrogant for our current predicament. You are not going there to demand tributes or hurl threats at an entrenched enemy while our borders burn. You will go with a level head, bearing chests of gifts, silks, and fine spices from the capital as a gesture of good faith. We will seek a genuine truce and restore trade without unnecessary provocation. If that shaman witnesses us offering peace gifts rather than empty threats, we will secure our southern border without sacrificing a single soldier."

Caelen ground his teeth, feeling the sting of his father’s rebuke, but bowed his head submissively:

"It shall be done as Your Majesty commands."

"So let it be," declared the King, striking his golden scepter against the marble. "Eldridge, assemble the official delegation and the gifts. Caelen, you depart at dawn. This audience is adjourned."

The audience had concluded, and the high nobility alongside the generals began to withdraw in silence, whispering about the uncertain fate of the southern border. However, before the heir could take a single step toward the exit, the monarch’s voice cut through the hall:

"Caelen, stay."

The prince froze mid-stride. At the same time, the King made a gesture toward the figure standing at the side of the dais.

"Julian, you stay as well."

The Grand General gave a nod and stepped forward as the heavy bronze doors of the throne room slammed shut behind the last departing noble, leaving the chamber in an atmosphere.

"Father...? What is it?" asked Caelen, trying to conceal the tremor in his hands.

The monarch let out a sigh, leaning his back against the golden headrest of his throne. The harsh glare he had directed at the court softened for a moment, replaced by a mixture of sorrow and paternal sternness.

"Son... you are far too impetuous and foolish," said the King in a raspy tone. "I promised your mother on her deathbed that you would be the one to inherit my throne and wear the crown of the Golden Rose... but if you continue acting this way, there will be no kingdom left for you to rule."

"Father... I was trying to protect the honor of our name—"

"Say no more," interrupted the King, raising a gloved hand. He then turned his face toward the veteran commander. "General, I want you to send Tari on this expedition. If anything goes wrong or the negotiations collapse, I want Tari to bring that barbarian shaman’s head directly to my feet."

Julian Montfort narrowed his cold eyes, weighing the command for a second before speaking:

"My Lord... if I am to deploy Tari into that territory, would it not be simpler to order the complete eradication of that entire tribe in one clean strike? Why go through all these diplomatic hassles when we can erase them in the shadows?"

The King clapped his hands twice, the sharp sound echoing through the empty hall.

An instant later, a side door creaked open, and two figures stepped toward the center of the dais. The first was an obese man clad in silk robes embroidered with gold. Beside him walked a dwarf with a thick beard that nearly reached his waist, reeking of alcohol so potent that even smelling it from paces away threatened to make one lightheaded.

"Rokk and Leander St. Clair..." said the King, motioning for them to step forward. "Tell the Grand General what you have uncovered."

"My Lord," said Rokk the dwarf, stepping forward as he pulled a pair of heavy metal ingots from his leather sash—the very ones Prince Caelen had brought back from his previous expedition.

"These ingots brought by the young prince last time possess something extraordinary within them," explained Leander St. Clair, adjusting the gems on his robes as he offered a bow.

Grand General Julian took one of the ingots between his fingers. He brought it close to his face, inspected it, and sniffed it lightly. His eyes narrowed.

"Residue of fire and earth elements..." muttered Julian.

"Precisely, Grand General," nodded Rokk the dwarf with a grin, wiping his beard with his sleeve. "The metal brought back bears deep residues of both elements, meaning the entire vein is saturated with them. For metal to naturally absorb magic to this extent, it requires millennia of exposure. That doesn’t just make any weapon forged from it receptive to elemental enchantments; it reveals something far more critical: beneath that territory lies, with absolute certainty, a rich mine of earth and fire elemental stones."

Upon hearing the words of the smith and the merchant, Julian Montfort’s pupils dilated. The harshness of his features yielded to a cold greed.

"Your Majesty... if a concentrated mine of pure elemental stones of that magnitude exists," declared the Grand General, tightening his grip on his sword hilt, "in that case, it is even more imperative that we dispatch our legions to annihilate them all and seize the mine immediately."

The King let out a dry chuckle that echoed coldly throughout the chamber.

"Patience, Julian," said the monarch, leaning back into his throne. "Have you forgotten that we ourselves possess a similar vein with which we face a dilemma?"

The Grand General frowned, processing the monarch’s words before his eyes lit up with realization.

"The Earth and Lightning mine..."

"Precisely," nodded the King, lacing his gloved fingers together. "We hold a mine overflowing with high-grade stones along the border, yet it is infested with those cursed beasts and monsters born from the elemental concentration itself. No matter how many elite squads we have dispatched to conquer it, it has proven impossible. A war of attrition against those creatures only feeds them; they are not individually invincible, but their endless numbers and regenerative nature make them impossible to exterminate."

The monarch leaned forward, locking his sight on the metal ingots resting on the table.

"That tribe is extracting this metal directly from the depths. And based on everything Caelen described regarding the battle and the weaponry deployed by that shaman, I have arrived at a few intriguing conclusions."