Chapter 1305 - 559: The Kingdom Out of Control, the Missing Horse_2

Chapter 1305: Chapter 559: The Kingdom Out of Control, the Missing Horse_2

Thus, the power of the Goddess dragged him back from the very gates of hell; Lorne grasped hope, and with it, his own life.

Now, the recovered Lorne-Rio Cornwall knelt before the idol of the Lake Fairy; every tapestry, every painting, and every sculpture within the chamber spoke of his family’s ancient history, and at the far end of the room the statue of the Lake Fairy stood alone. The Goddess’s countenance was exceedingly serene, her will concealed behind the statue’s elusive smile—unfathomable, not to be profaned.

"My Lady, what am I to do?" Lorne asked in a low voice. He clenched the Kulona Sword, the bright radiance flowing from the blade rendering the room less dim. The candle flames still burned fiercely, just like the education he had received from childhood to now. Lorne prayed again and again for the Goddess’s answer, just as he had heard the Goddess’s soft words once more in his fevered delirium; he longed to hear the Goddess’s guidance again.

But the only answer to him was silence.

"Lorne, are you in there?" At that moment, an aged voice sounded from beyond the room.

"I am here, Uncle."

Entering from the doorway was the current Knight King Richard. The aged King wore a light blue silk robe and a white satin shirt. "Are you feeling better?"

"Much better." Lorne turned around. The Duke looked at his uncle’s appearance and suddenly felt that though only a few days had passed since they last met, Richard had undergone a...change difficult to put into words.

Previously, when he still reigned as King, Richard naturally bore an aura of formidable authority. Though advanced in years, he remained profound and unfathomable.

Yet ever since Lorne’s recovery, the aura about Richard had changed. He now seemed like an ordinary old man, even possessing a certain cultured, amiable air. The two sat facing one another within the room.

The choice of future King had already been settled; had Uncle also laid down his heavy burden? Lorne vaguely understood.

Richard spoke kindly: "The Kingdom Council has reached its conclusion. Neither Lake God Witch Mogiana nor Bohemond, Francois, and Laine have any intention of pursuing your faults too far. Laine has even proposed that you continue to serve as Kingdom Regent. This is good news."

"Uncle..." Lorne did not even know where to begin. He lowered his head in shame. "I have failed your trust."

"No matter, no matter." Richard waved his hand, smiling as he said, "In truth, this may be for the best. I have suddenly come to understand something: whether it is I, or you, perhaps neither of us is able to lead this Kingdom out of its plight."

"Laine is truly a remarkable Knight." To say that Lorne was not moved by Laine’s refusal to pursue his mistakes would be false. Upon hearing this, a weight eased in his heart. The Duke of Connet let out a long sigh. "If not for him, Mathew Bade would already have overturned this country."

Richard did not respond to Lorne’s words. Instead, the aged Knight King suddenly laughed and said, "In fact, even without Mathew Bade, this country was already on the verge of being overturned. The outbreak of the Undead was merely a catalyst. This Kingdom is like a runaway carriage—the horses have long since disappeared, and we are all relying on human strength, desperately clinging to the carriage and sprinting along with it."

"Uncle?" Lorne could not help but chuckle, the Duke shaking his head again and again. "That metaphor is a bit..."

"I am not jesting." Richard stroked his beard, smiling as he spoke. "When did the horses disappear? It was probably after the Dor Tower incident. From that time on, the carriage, having lost control, ran faster and faster, ever harder to rein in. We who are Kings can do no more than cling to it with all our might. Taylor used his full strength to push the carriage back onto the road, while those two Tyrants, John I and John II, believed they could still control the carriage as though holding the reins. But the result was that they nearly shoved the carriage into the deep ditch at the roadside."

Lorne listened in silence, suddenly feeling a little forlorn. He knew what Richard wished to say next.

"Did I not wish to control that carriage when I first became King?" Richard continued, still smiling. "I strove for it, but I saw more clearly than John I and John II: this Kingdom—if I throw my full weight against it, I can perhaps steady it, but to seize control once more is impossible. Thus, after my early years of bold reform repeatedly foundered, I spent the subsequent thirty years as a mere paste-over artisan, smoothing over relations among the Dukes. Stability and compromise have ever been the tags attached to me."

"It is not that I did not wish to, but that I could not. Had I stubbornly persisted in trying to control the carriage, my end would only have been the same as John II’s—dragged down from the throne." Richard went on, "Now it seems that even if you become King—stronger than I, more capable than I—you may hold the carriage far better than I, yet you still cannot change the fact that it continues its mad dash, cannot change the fact that the horses are gone."

"Uncle..." Tears welled in Lorne’s eyes. After this great blow, he had gained further insight into all things concerning the Kingdom. He understood Richard’s position. In his youthful hot blood he had once complained that Richard turned a blind eye to so many of the Kingdom’s problems. Now he saw that it was not blindness, but helplessness. "Then why is Laine able?"

"Have you seen the Empire’s steam tanks?" Richard’s smile grew broader. "Laine has simply abandoned the search for horses to control the carriage. He understands the carriage’s problems better than anyone. He is stronger than all of us together. He holds the carriage steady while gradually replacing its parts—adding new fittings, discarding the old. Unknowingly, he has transformed the wooden carriage into a half–steam-driven iron carriage. Whether there are horses or not is no longer so vital. Yet Laine has, at the same time, also found that horse."

"He has now taken hold of the carriage and begun preparing to retrieve the horse and harness it to the carriage once more."

"Musillon...that is the horse!" Lorne cried out. "I understand!"

"Yes, Musillon is that horse. Every King understands this." Richard nodded. "Yet even though all know it, they still cannot manage to seize it back."

"Now we must see whether Laine can accomplish it." Richard made his final summation, gently stroking his grizzled long beard. "Lorne, your father Louis came to see you earlier. He left a message for me to pass on."

"It is certainly not words of praise." Thinking of his father, Louis the Righteous (also known as "Louis the Just"), Lorne could only give a bitter smile.

"He said that you brought this upon yourself."

"Hahahaha!" Lorne laughed at himself, his laughter laden with limitless sorrow.

"Indeed, I have brought this upon myself."

...The dividing line of ’I brought this upon myself’...

Early July, the Cursed City of Musillon.

More than twenty thousand troops had already encircled the city completely. The number of Musillon’s Undead Guard had fallen to the lowest point in its history. The Blood Dragon Family Vampires left to garrison Musillon dared not sally forth to fight in the field. They huddled within their lonely fortress, prepared to defend to the death.

At this point, no one doubted that the Knightly Army led by Laine could storm Musillon Castle.

Yet what followed left everyone feeling vexed.

Namely, that Laine’s army had assailed the city for a full week. Dozens of artillery pieces fired in concert; the torrential arrow storms of the Wood Elf Army and the dense hail of shot from the Dwarf Thunder Gunner companies held the Vampires’ counterattack firmly in check. But Musillon remained immensely strong. The tens-of-meters-high walls seemed to mock the Knightly Army’s presumptuousness.

After days of continuous assault, Musillon still stood tall, showing not the slightest sign of collapse. The Vampires garrisoning the place were resolved to resist to the bitter end. Belgar several times led his forces to press close upon the city gates, only to be driven back by the Undead’s outpouring of blood tides or belched poison mists. Since Musillon lay at a river mouth, tunneling was likewise impossible.

The only effective siege engine was that Magic Crystal Cannon, "Mogiana’s New Toy." Time and again it blasted breaches in the walls, shaking the high ramparts to their foundations. Yet the Undead Mages defending the city would immediately chant Undead Magic to reinforce the walls, mobilizing tireless Skeleton Warriors to fill in the gaps.

In the Knightly Army’s camp outside the walls, Laine and the others regarded this prolonged, fruitless assault as a grave trouble.

"It seems we must change the plan."