Garcia gripped the hilt of the sword in his hand so tightly that even he wasn't sure if, should the rebel troops break through, he would truly have the strength left to wield the blade in battle.
At that moment, all his courage, all his energy, was being steadily ground away, minute by minute, by the agonizing wait.
The magnificent, brightly lit chandeliers hanging high in the great hall seemed to sway ever so gently, causing the shadows of men to constantly flicker—as if trembling in sheer terror.
In the deathly silence of the hall, only the heavy, slow breathing of the old Chancellor could be heard.
Finally, a bead of cold sweat traced a path down Garcia’s brow. Unable to bear the rising anxiety any longer, he parted his lips and muttered, “Why is it taking so long? Why is it taking so… The Master went to slay that traitor. With his power, how could…”
“Your Majesty.”
Saronponili finally sighed deeply and spoke. The Chancellor’s sigh, at that moment, sounded like a note of weary despair.
The Emperor, completely flustered, didn't even register the Chancellor’s call. Saronponili offered a wry smile, then raised his voice, emphasizing his tone: “Your Majesty!”
“Hmm?” Garcia jolted upright, turning sharply to face the Chancellor.
Saronponili’s eyes were calm. He spoke slowly, “Your Majesty need wait no longer. If he has not returned by now, I fear…”
“Fear what?” Garcia’s face instantly darkened, and he hissed, “Are you saying the Master could fail?! Impossible! Absolutely impossible! The Master’s strength is supreme. Even Father used to say that as long as he was near me, nothing could ever go wrong! With the Master’s skill, even if Aldric has elite guards, they could never withstand his thunderous strike! I, I…”
“Your Majesty!!”
The old Chancellor’s third call struck Garcia’s heart like a great bronze bell. Garcia abruptly silenced himself, staring at the Chancellor with stark terror. It wasn't that he didn't believe it; it was that he dared not believe it, refused to believe it, was unwilling to accept it! The possibility terrified him to his core!
“Aldric is masterful at strategy, a renowned general of the Empire. A general of his caliber will have calculated every possible factor before setting his forces in motion. The presence of a top master guarding Your Majesty is hardly a shocking secret. Since he dared to launch a coup, he must have been prepared, with countermeasures ready for those protecting Your Majesty. Alas…” To initiate a rebellion is to defy heaven itself! Such a momentous act cannot be treated as a jest. If he dared to move…”
Garcia’s complexion grew paler. He staggered back several steps, collapsing onto the cold stone steps.
“Your Majesty, rather than pinning all hope on that master, it would be wiser to make more sober preparations,” Saronponili shook his head.
“Preparations… preparations…” Garcia mumbled incoherently, unable to form a complete sentence.
As if to confirm the old Chancellor’s dire prediction, sudden, hurried, frantic footsteps echoed from outside the great hall. The massive doors were nearly thrown open, and a general clad in Imperial Guard armor burst in, his face a mask of panic. Without pausing to bow, he gasped urgently, “Your Majesty! The rebel forces have breached the Imperial City! Please, Your Majesty, retreat quickly!!”
“What!”
Garcia cried out in shock, then dissolved into uncontrolled screaming, “What did you say! The rebels are in the Imperial City? How is that possible! The city defenses are ironclad! We still have thousands of elite Imperial Guards! The rebel Hughs couldn't break in before, and now these rabble have succeeded?!”
The Imperial Guard general could not speak, merely stamping his feet in agitation. “Your Majesty, hurry and leave! If we delay, I fear…”
The old Chancellor spoke calmly, “Hughs couldn't enter previously because the Central Army City Guard was also defending the city. Even if the Imperial Guard is elite, facing the disorganized rebels outside, few will have the will to fight to the death. Your Majesty… this is the situation.”
The Imperial Guard general’s face turned ashen. He bowed deeply. “Chancellor speaks truly. My command was lax. Though I ordered a fierce defense of the walls, my soldiers lacked fighting spirit. Some took the opportunity to open the Imperial City gates and let the rebels flood in! Of my Imperial Guards, those willing to fight number less than one in ten! Your Majesty!! Please flee now!!”
“Flee! Where can I possibly flee?!” Garcia laughed through his fury. “The City Guard is already in Aldric’s hands! Osgilia has fallen to him! Am I expected to ascend to the heavens or dive into the earth!?”
Saying this, he suddenly swung the sword in his hand, slicing off his own hat. His hair, suddenly unbound, cascaded down. The young Emperor looked up and wailed, “Gods! If you truly exist, open your eyes and see! Must my Byzantine Empire, founded by my Krenmar line, truly come to its end now!!!!!!”
With that declaration, clutching his long sword, he began his slow descent from the high steps, one staggering step after another, moving toward the great doors.
Chancellor Saronponili, however, suddenly moved to block Garcia’s path: “Your Majesty!”
“What is it, Chancellor? Am I not even permitted a dignified death at the last?” Garcia frowned darkly.
“Your Majesty, the situation has not reached the depths you imagine,” Saronponili said slowly. “I know Aldric’s character. He is not like Minas; Minas harbors wolfish ambition, but Aldric carries a core of loyalty. His rebellion is certainly not aimed at seizing the throne. I suspect he was driven to it…”
The old Chancellor paused, leaving the conclusion unspoken, but the implication was clear: perhaps he was forced into this by you, the Emperor.
A faint spark of hope flickered in Garcia’s eyes. He lunged forward, grasping the Chancellor’s withered arm: “Chancellor! Tell me, is there still, still…” Is there still a chance to salvage this?”
The old Chancellor’s eyes shone with sharp clarity. He spoke slowly, each word firm: “If Your Majesty is willing to listen to your old servant for the next few moments, I have an eighty percent certainty that I can ensure Your Majesty’s safety!”
With that, he took two steps forward, retrieved Garcia’s hat from the ground, smoothed the young Emperor’s disheveled hair, and replaced the hat. He then smoothed the wrinkles from Garcia’s robes, stepped back two paces, bowed deeply, and said, “Your Majesty, you are the supreme ruler of the Empire. At this moment, I implore you not to be panicked or enraged. Show us the presence of an Emperor!”
Garcia gazed at the Chancellor, his eyes suddenly reddening. “Chancellor! I have wronged you many times in the past; it was my fault! If I can survive this day’s crisis, in the future, the power of this Empire, I shall share it with you!”
For an Emperor to utter such words was weighty indeed.
Yet, the old Chancellor merely raised an eyebrow slightly and offered a faint smile, making no reply to the promise.
This wise old man had long since seen through the young Emperor’s nature. Garcia was inherently suspicious, jealous, and desperately power-hungry. While he made such a grand commitment in the throes of immediate crisis, he would surely renege once this day passed. Such words were best heard and forgotten, never to be taken seriously.
The Chancellor then turned his gaze to the Imperial Guard general, his expression stern and authoritative: “Tell me, General, how many capable and trustworthy men do you still have at your command?”
The Imperial Guard officer snapped to attention. “There are fewer than three hundred outside the hall, but these men were all trained by me, and they are willing to die for Your Majesty!”
“Good!”
The Chancellor took a deep breath. “General, please depart immediately and order your men to form ranks before the hall. If the rebels approach the hall but do not attack, hold your position. If they attack, remember this: you are the final barrier before His Majesty!”
The Imperial Guard general’s face hardened with resolve. He roared, “I receive my orders! Your Majesty, rest assured, if the rebels wish to harm you, they will have to tread over my corpse first!”
With that, he turned and strode out with purpose. Immediately, sharp commands and the sounds of soldiers aligning could be heard from outside.
“Please accompany me out, Your Majesty, so we may meet these rebels,” the Chancellor said with a slight smile.
Outside the great hall, fewer than three hundred Imperial Guards formed a thin line standing guard before the towering steps.
Garcia and the old Chancellor stepped out side-by-side, positioning themselves at the threshold of the hall, directly behind the Guard’s formation.
In the distance, shouts arose from both sides of the palace plaza gates. Moments later, both gates were flung open, and the Central Army troops poured in—fully armed, armored, and radiating aggressive intent. Spotting their objective before the hall from far away, they immediately charged forward.
The plaza before the hall instantly filled with a teeming mass of humanity, the cold glint of steel pressing in.
The tide-like rebel force surged right up to the base of the steps, poised to rush upward—the situation had devolved into chaos.
Just as the rebels were about to clash upon them, the old Chancellor suddenly stepped forward. This frail, ailing man seemed to summon an incredible reserve of energy and boomed out a commanding shout: “Central Army, heed me! The Emperor of the Empire is here! You are the soldiers and subjects of the Empire! Seeing the Emperor, why do you not immediately fall back and pay homage!!”
The old man’s voice was hoarse, yet it carried over the din of the entire crowd, piercingly clear to every soldier’s ear!
The Chancellor straightened his back, chest held high, his aged face flushed crimson, eyes wide with fury. He bellowed again: “You are loyal subjects of Byzantium! The Emperor stands before you—why do you not withdraw! Do you intend to commit the wicked act of regicide?!”
Indeed, following the Chancellor’s two shouts, the leading Central Army rebels—both soldiers and officers—froze instantly, their feet involuntarily stopping.
The Byzantine Empire had stood for centuries. The prestige of the Crown remained deeply rooted, and the ideology of loyalty to the throne and the nation was ingrained in the hearts of these imperial soldiers. Hearing the Chancellor’s roar, every man’s resolve weakened!
Seeing the surging, disorganized mass of rebels halt, Saronponili let out a small breath of relief.
The most dangerous moment had passed.
In the old Chancellor’s mind, he never truly worried that Aldric intended treason. From the very beginning, he understood the character of Aldric—this upright, loyal man would never commit an act of outright rebellion. Today’s massive disruption was likely born of desperation, a means of using a military petition to force the Emperor’s compliance.
However, the old Chancellor knew that while Aldric might lack treasonous intent, others might not! Among Aldric’s subordinates, perhaps among those rougher officers, there might be ambitious men dreaming of becoming the founders of a new era.
His true fear was that during the chaos of the breach, someone might recklessly strike down the Emperor, creating an irreversible fact, rendering Aldric’s regrets useless.
Especially… yes, especially that Ruhl!
The Chancellor looked down at the dense mass of rebels, feeling a degree of certainty; today’s outcome was now more than eighty percent assured. He coldly gathered his strength and shouted: “You have offended His Majesty and forcibly entered the Imperial City. His Majesty, mindful that you acted only out of concern for the state, has permitted this display! Did you not demand an audience to present your petition? His Majesty is here now! If you are truly loyal soldiers devoted to the Empire, you must offer your respects! We are all subjects of Byzantium; we have all received the nation’s bounty! The Central Army has always been the iron shield guarding the Empire! If any among you truly harbor thoughts of rebellion, I, Saronponili, stand here! Kill me first before you commit treason!!”
The old Chancellor’s words rang like iron, solid and resonant, imbued with an aura of righteous indignation. The rebels were awestruck, and for a moment, the scene fell to an extreme silence!
Only among the Imperial Guards, the general’s sweat had soaked his tunic, his heart hammering as he watched the dense tide of rebels below.
Finally, a trumpet call echoed from beyond the plaza—the halt signal used in military formations!
Hearing this signal, many of the rebel officers inwardly sighed with relief.
Though they were loyal to Aldric and agreed to this political protest, they were not true traitors. To charge forward now and strike down the Emperor of the Empire with their swords—unless someone took the lead, few would dare.
Following the trumpet, a rider dashed in from beyond the main gates—a black horse and gold armor—it was Aldric, charging in with his personal retinue. As soon as he entered the plaza, he roared loudly: “Central Army, hear my command! All retreat fifty paces and form ranks! Do not advance a single step without orders!”
He shouted this command twice in quick succession. The assembled rebels immediately receded like a retreating tide. Aldric spurred his horse forward, drawing up beneath the steps of the hall. He dismounted, knelt upon one knee, and shouted toward the steps: “Imperial Military Minister Aldric requests an audience with His Imperial Majesty, the Emperor!”
Seeing Aldric finally appear, Garcia’s expression turned even uglier. Though standing high on the steps, looking down upon the Empire’s general, he suddenly felt a strange sensation: Aldric was still a general commanding troops, and he was still the Emperor, yet the balance of power between them had been utterly inverted!
And this man kneeling at the base of the steps held the power of life and death over him with a single decree!
While his mind was in turmoil, Saronponili gently tugged at Garcia’s robe. Garcia, his face complex, slowly opened his mouth, but his voice was hoarse, utterly devoid of authority.
“Aldric, you bring your army to see me. Say what you have to say!”
As Garcia spoke these words, his body was almost unable to stand, relying entirely on the support of the aged Chancellor pressed against him!
“Your subject requests His Majesty to distance himself from corrupt sycophants and heed loyal counsel!”
“Your subject requests His Majesty to dismiss the obstructing ministers and retract the disastrous decrees!”
“Your subject requests His Majesty to govern diligently and correct the realm’s errors!”
“Your subject requests His Majesty to demonstrate the breadth of an Emperor’s heart, so as not to alienate loyal ministers or cause true heroes to depart!”
“Your subject requests His Majesty…”
Aldric knelt below the steps. The ranks of the Imperial Guards stood directly above him, their spear tips barely a few paces away! Yet Aldric spoke his case with passionate conviction, radiating an air of pure righteousness. Every word, every sentence, resonated like the clash of metal and bronze, carrying across the entire assembly!
With every sentence Aldric uttered, Garcia’s face twitched. By the end, Garcia was consumed by silent rage but dared not rebuke him, managing only to stand by relying on the comforting support of the Chancellor.
Finally, when Aldric finished speaking, the imposing man below the steps rose to his full height. Though standing beneath the dais, his silhouette seemed to loom over the supreme ruler of the Empire standing above him.
“Aldri… Aldric…” Garcia tried to speak, but a harsh gust of wind choked him, forcing him into several violent coughs before he managed a tragic statement: “Every word you spoke suggests a deep-seated resentment toward me, your Emperor?”
“Your subject dares not!” Aldric stood tall, his eyes fixed on Garcia: “Your subject merely pleads on behalf of the nation, on behalf of millions of subjects and soldiers!”
“No…” “Good, good, you ‘dare not’…” Garcia felt a searing pain in his heart, a surge of anger rushing to his head, but fortunately, Chancellor Saronponili gripped his hand tightly and squeezed hard. Only then did Garcia manage to release his breath and regain a semblance of composure.
At this moment, the Emperor’s face was the color of dried earth, utterly expressionless, even his eyes seeming like dead ash. No one could tell what thoughts churned within him.
After a long, long pause, only the cold wind seemed to blow, chilling the hearts of all present. Garcia finally spoke again.
His voice remained chillingly flat, weak, and powerless.
“Aldric, I have understood the requests of you and your soldiers. Very well, Chancellor, please issue my decree!”
As Garcia uttered the final words, his body swayed, nearly collapsing.
Saronponili, however, remained calm, gazing down at Aldric. The two exchanged a look, both expressions grim and resolute.
Finally, the Chancellor paused briefly, then slowly spoke: “Soldiers below the steps, heed this order! By decree of the Emperor of the Empire: Considering your sincere devotion to the nation, your crime of forcefully entering the Imperial City today is pardoned! Your offense of disrespecting the Imperial presence is pardoned! Your crime of unauthorized deployment is pardoned!”
At this point, Saronponili glanced at Aldric again and continued slowly, “Order! Imperial Military Minister Aldric is hereby granted the rank of Grand Marshal of the Empire, titled ‘Marshal Protector of the Realm,’ to command all internal and external military affairs, control the Empire’s forces, and exercise discretion in military appointments and removals!”
These last few lines finally broke Garcia’s composure. He shot a look full of venomous resentment at Aldric standing below the steps, his body convulsing, a thin line of blood slowly tracing from the corner of his mouth.
Upon hearing the Chancellor’s final pronouncement, Aldric immediately dropped to one knee again: “Your subject obeys His Majesty’s decree! Long live the Empire!”
With that, he turned to face the dense mass of Central Army soldiers in the plaza, raised his right fist high, and roared: “Long live the Empire!!”
At this cry, all the soldiers in the assembly roared back in unison.
“Long live the Empire!!”
The sound wave crashed like mountains and tides, shaking the heavens!
But amidst this chorus of cheers, someone among the Central Army in the plaza started it—a shout rang out: “Long live the Marshal!” Immediately, responses erupted all around him.
“Long live the Marshal!” “Long live the Marshal!!”
As this new chorus swelled, Garcia finally opened his mouth and sprayed a mouthful of blood onto the shoulder of the old Chancellor beside him…