Chapter 258: The Barbarian’s Legacy

The King reached out and tapped his fingertip against the ingot Julian was holding, letting the cold metallic tone echo through the hall.

"First and foremost, I am no fool," the King began, locking his gaze onto the three men before him. "It is evident that Varis was not mistaken in his initial reports. When we dispatched the merchant caravan the first time, that tribe did not possess such advanced weaponry. However, based on what Caelen and Gideon described regarding this latest excursion, it is clear they have learned to utilize those earth and fire stones to make them detonate and cause unprecedented levels of destruction."

Julian clenched his fists, listening with intent.

"This confirms one absolute truth," the monarch continued in a firm voice. "That shaman and his people are capable of mining and exploiting that vein. To have achieved such a feat in a short amount of time, they must have acquired some form of ancient legacy or lost knowledge. And do not be naive... I do not believe they possess only those firearms; they must have many more stored within their territory."

Rokk the dwarf and the merchant Leander St. Clair exchanged glances of greed and awe, while the King stood up from his throne.

"Our primary objective is not blind vengeance, Julian. We must secure as much of their technology as possible, especially the methodology they use to mine those depths even when the veins are infested with elemental monsters. And, if feasible, we must seize that legacy for ourselves. If we march right now with our legions to annihilate them without foresight, all we will achieve is reducing the place to ash, leaving us with nothing more than scraps."

Julian inhaled, grasping the full strategic depth of the monarch’s design.

"That is why we send the diplomatic delegation..." muttered the Grand General. "The diplomacy and gifts are merely the bait to observe their facilities from within, while Tari uncovers their secrets from the shadows."

"Precisely," declared the King with a cold smirk. "Caelen, you will lead that delegation, present the gifts, and keep your head low while your eyes mark everything. Tari will handle the rest."

Caelen clenched his fists and took a step forward, bowing his head with resolve.

"Your son will not disappoint you, father," affirmed the prince in a steady voice.

The monarch kept his gaze locked on him before waving his hand toward the room’s occupants.

"Everyone leave. I wish to speak with Caelen alone."

Grand General Julian, Rokk the dwarf, and Leander St. Clair bowed before withdrawing in silence. The heavy bronze doors slammed shut once more, leaving only the King and his heir within the vast chamber.

The King descended the steps of the dais, coming to a halt two paces from his son.

"Well then... regarding what transpired, seize this opportunity," began the monarch in an intimate, stern tone. "Valerius proved himself to be loyal and useful. You need to build your own personal base of power; men willing to shoulder your mistakes on their own backs are rare in this world, and you must never disappoint or discard them. Make sure you earn his absolute devotion."

Caelen listened in silence, absorbing every word.

"And regarding Gideon... leave your vengeance in the past," continued the King, locking a stern gaze onto his son’s eyes. "Despite everything, he risked his life and lost an arm to save you in that camp. Although it is common knowledge that he aligns with one of your brothers at court, his ultimate loyalty remains bound to this throne. When you inherit the crown, it will not be too late to move your pieces or settle scores, but in the meantime, do not seek trouble with the high nobility."

The monarch took slow steps around his son, letting the heavy echo of his footsteps set the cadence of his words.

"Listen to me carefully, Caelen," continued the King, dropping his voice to a whisper laden with political weight. "Executing a simple advisor or a soldier in the public square is effortless, but striking at or conspiring against the life of a high-born noble like Count Gideon is an act of sheer folly that can collapse the entire kingdom from its very foundations."

Caelen clenched his jaw, listening.

"If a future monarch proves he is capable of murdering a high noble in cold blood out of spite or personal grudge, the aristocratic caste will not sit idly by. They will think: ’If he did it to him, tomorrow he will do it to me.’ Unfounded fear among the Great Houses does not breed obedience; it breeds self-defense. They will begin arming their fiefdoms, close ranks against you, and should the abuse become a pattern, they will not hesitate to unite their forces to force a coup d’état and place any of your brothers on the throne in your stead."

The monarch came to a halt right in front of the prince, placing a heavy hand upon his shoulder.

"Being King does not mean doing whatever you please simply because you wear a crown upon your head. Governance is the delicate art of maintaining checks and balances—knowing whose neck to squeeze and whom to keep satisfied so they continue to uphold the structure of your throne. Learn this today, Caelen, or the very nobility smiling at you in court today will be the ones signing your death warrant tomorrow."

Caelen looked his father in the eyes, a mixture of bewilderment and disillusionment showing across his face.

"I do not understand, father..." admitted the prince, lowering his voice. "I always thought you were invincible. I believed the King held absolute control over every corner and every man in this realm."

The monarch let out a short, bitter chuckle, shaking his head.

"No one holds absolute control, Caelen. That is the illusion we sell to the commoners and rival nations to preserve order. Why do you think the kingdom is partitioned into fiefdoms ruled by distinct noble families? The realm is like a human body, and each of those Great Houses represents a vital organ in its framework. If you sever a limb on a whim, the entire body grows sick and bleeds out."

The King tightened his grip on his son’s shoulder, locking eyes with a piercing, calculating gaze.

"A wise ruler must remain perpetually vigilant against them, watching their every move and anticipating their betrayals... yet you must never display it. If you allow them to see that you fear them, they will devour you; if you allow them to see you as an unpredictable tyrant, they will unite to destroy you. Any display of weakness or strategic clumsiness will lead you to the exact same end: a dagger in the back in the dark."