Chapter 645 — The Heart of the Crowd

Outside the small chapel, a crowd had already gathered. A rumour, suddenly spread abroad, had shaken everyone; nobles and soldiers alike were struck with astonishment, and even those who had already dimly sensed some part of the truth were left utterly stunned once they learned the particulars of the matter—

To root out the nobles who had once opposed him, to pin the blame on Duke Gaoyang Cecil, to secure his own royal authority, and to prevent the Cecil family from returning to the centre of power in the kingdom, the king had single-handedly staged that appalling slaughter on Crow Terrace.

This was no rumour, but had solid evidence and witnesses—a secret letter that should have been destroyed had been found, and several inner-court attendants who would not keep silent had stepped forward to accuse the king of his crimes. Outside the small chapel, the portly Count Barlin waved a sheet of paper furiously in his hand: "This is a conspiracy! The king deceived Duke Cecil with false information, made the duke believe Crow Terrace had been overrun by monsters, and killed over a hundred nobles and their knights, only because these men had once opposed him!!"

The knights around the chapel grew restless, and the unrest gradually turned into ever louder shouting; some of the inner-court nobles, still in shock and dread, soon joined the tide of accusation. Only a handful in the crowd kept an eerie silence, while another small group of nobles looked utterly blank and bewildered, as though they had all at once lost their footing, as though they suddenly could not understand where in the world things had gone wrong.

More people were stirred up, and an anger born of betrayal began to spread through the crowd.

"The king we supported turns out to have been a tyrant?!"

"If he can kill a hundred nobles who opposed him today, tomorrow he can kill us!!"

"He was crowned on a carpet of blood! We should have known from the very start!"

Some in the crowd shouted themselves hoarse. At first only a small portion were shouting, but somehow it spread swiftly to nearly the whole crowd. Some cried out for the king to come out of the chapel, while others who felt betrayed glared furiously at that door; had there not still been a final guard unit posted at the chapel entrance, these people might even have rushed inside.

Then the chapel door was pushed open, and Wilse Morn appeared before them.

"The king is coming out!" "He's coming out..."

The crowd stirred and could not help but take half a step back, but the next moment they surged forward again, and a confused clamour rose on every side, demanding that the king explain the contents of that letter. Count Barlin stood at the very front, waving the sheet of paper and crying out loudly: "Your Majesty! Explain all this to us—why did you write to Duke Cecil telling him Crow Terrace had been overrun by monsters?!"

The plump count's face had gone red, and every word he spoke seemed to wring the last of his strength out of him.

Wilse looked silently at Count Barlin for a few seconds, and only after the crowd around them had fallen quiet did he say clearly, "I have merely purged the vermin of the kingdom."

This was an admission in another guise, and the crowd erupted at once.

And just as that uproar reached its peak, the crowd suddenly fell silent once more.

A tall figure stepped out from the shadows inside the chapel; Gaoyang walked out the door and came to stand beside Wilse, his face expressionless.

"Frankly speaking, since the day I crawled out of my grave, I have met a great many people in this era. Some tried to be my rival, some fancied themselves my rival, some were my allies, and some believed themselves my allies," Gaoyang glanced at the king beside him, "but you alone—neither rival nor ally—are the first, so far, to truly astonish me, and even catch me somewhat off guard."

"Then that is my greatest honour," Wilse said with a faint smile, his voice low. "There is only one thing left for you to do now—condemn me."

No one caught the whispered exchange between Gaoyang and Wilse, but everyone could see the two had spoken. A noble in a royal-blue coat cried out loudly: "Duke Cecil, you have been deceived by this 'king'! He means to place you in an indefensible position!"

Gaoyang glanced at the noble who had shouted, and said very quietly to Wilse, "This man is loyal to you."

Then, before Wilse could respond, he added, "It is a pity the stage you arranged does not quite suit my style."

At last a flicker of surprise showed on Wilse's face, but before he could say anything, Gaoyang had already stepped forward and addressed the assembled nobles and soldiers: "There is no need to doubt any longer. I know what was on Crow Terrace."

The square before the small chapel fell silent at once; everyone was too astonished to make a sound. A few moments later some could not help drawing a sharp breath, while others instinctively cast their eyes around them—

The soldiers and war machines of the Cecil Legion were already gathered around the open ground, and those cold engines of war looked on indifferently at it all, without sorrow or joy, in perfect discipline.

"That letter is genuine, and my bombardment of Crow Terrace was genuine as well. But before we argue over whether this was just or not, I have something I want you all to see."

As he spoke, Gaoyang reached out to one side, and only then did people notice that a short half-elf in tight black leather armour had been standing there for some time—this astonishing skill at concealment first surprised the extraordinary beings present, and then they saw the half-elf hand Gaoyang a stack of papers printed with text and images.

Gaoyang took the printouts Amber handed him, flipped through them casually, and then read aloud: "Count Uriel, a noble directly enfeoffed by the royal house, his fief in western Saint Sunir, plotted defection on the 58th of last month and at one point had twelve wagons of valuables packed, including three wagons and several warhorses appropriated through his office that should have been city-defence supplies... later, noticing unusual movements among the royal knights, he urgently cancelled his flight.

"Viscount Hodicor, an inner-court noble, likewise plotted defection, and moved a great quantity of royal property by bribing the guards... also because he was well informed, he urgently cancelled his flight, and afterwards zealously pledged loyalty to the new king to cover up the crimes he had committed.

"Baron Balge and his brother attempted to flee through the north gate, and to that end did not scruple to kill an honest knight who opposed the defection and tried to send word to Silverhold, disguising the death as a fall.

"This next one is even better. The Countess Hopkina, who attempted defection—I even have a magical image of her carriage hastening toward the north gate—"

Gaoyang raised a sheet of paper, on which was clearly shown a noble carriage with its insignia effaced driving toward the city gate; in the image a long-faced woman was leaning out to look nervously at the street, and behind the carriage was the northern wall of Saint Sunir, familiar to all.

"I have a great deal more material here. A very great deal."

Gaoyang's voice roused many on the square from their stupor, and once roused, almost every one of them suddenly felt a chill spreading from the bottom of his heart.

The duke gazed at them all—even though he was far away in the southern lands, his gaze had long since covered the royal capital in the north.

These materials, these words and images—the perspective they revealed was unsettling, the detail they possessed was terrifying. For a moment the nobles on the square even had an illusion—as though they were living utterly exposed beneath Cecil's eyes; every guest at every banquet, every guard beneath every portico, every passer-by along the road, every corner, every instant, all watched by a pair of eyes belonging to Cecil.