Chapter 646 — The End of the King's Banner

Gao Yang had once guessed that Wilse did not covet that throne, but to be honest, he had not expected the man to go quite so thoroughly, to go quite so far.

He had not only overthrown himself—he had shattered the aristocratic rule that Ansor had carried for seven hundred years: the king is the lord of lords, and the lords are the extension of the king.

As the one who broke this rule, he had led the nobles, their hearts full of fury, to topple him from power; and once he had fallen, a fissure that could never be closed would split the king-and-noble structure of Ansor—the system would become easy to destroy and difficult to restore.

Some saw this and chose silence; some did not see it, still immersed in the peculiar passion of having overthrown a king; and some, sharper than the rest, had noticed the undercurrents stirring on the scene and the steel war-chariots of the Cecil forces not far away.

A new age had come—the old guard had once refused this new age, but the new age had come all the same.

Rolled over them.

Before the eyes of the crowd, Wilse calmly removed his crown; and only when he had handed it to the attendant at his side did the nobles and soldiers on the scene react, producing a faint stir—people seemed only now to gain a sense of reality, to truly confirm that this king who had sat the throne for a mere eight days had relieved himself of royal authority; and having confirmed it, some among them did not know what to do with themselves.

The king had stepped down... and the new king?

Bo Yu Francklin did not remain silent long; before the stir could spread, he stepped forward and raised the mithril plate in his hand.

"Since the time is ripe, I shall announce to you all a special law passed down solely between the Guardian Dukes and the royal house—a law drawn up jointly by the founding sovereign, Charles the First, and the first Guardian Duke, divided into several parts in the form of mithril contracts and sealed away in the four realms. Both I and Grand Duchess Victoria Wilde can attest to the authenticity and validity of this law.

"This is the Emergency Succession Act, and its contents are as follows—"

As this secret statute, buried in dust for seven hundred years, was made public, every person on the scene widened their eyes.

It surpassed the expectations of nearly everyone.

Pairs of astonished eyes exchanged glances through the air; the crowds at the edges could not suppress their whispers, while the nobles at the center instead sank into an eerie silence—some wore thoughtful expressions, some seemed to have grasped something, yet not a single one of them voiced a challenge.

For knowing the times has always been one of the virtues of nobles, and with their keenness they had long realized that today the sky was destined to change.

"Today, the Moen bloodline has no direct heir fit for use; every collateral branch is unfit to bear the weight of the crown; the royal authority of Ansor stands vacant, while the First Founding Duke still lives. In accordance with this Emergency Succession Act, Grand Duke Gao Yang Cecil shall automatically become the new king.

"Duke Cecil, you may now accept this oath."

Bo Yu brought the mithril plate he held aloft before Gao Yang, his eyes fixed quietly on the Founding Duke before him.

Every eye in the plaza lifted as well, staring unblinking at the center of this scene.

Gao Yang smiled and reached his hand toward the mithril oath: "Indeed, this country needs a protector and a ruler now, or it likely will not survive this winter..."

Hearing these words, the nobles in the plaza wore smiles of complicated meaning, then one by one they bowed their heads slightly, concealing every shift in their eyes, making ready to cheer for the new king.

Gao Yang's hand brushed lightly over the mithril oath.

"But I do not intend to take up the crown Charles passed down."

The solid mithril plate silently crumbled into fine ash, scattering on the wind.

The calm on Duke Bo Yu's face shattered; he stared at all this in astonishment and disbelief, and even Victoria beside him could not help but show a flicker of shock—only Wilse, standing behind and to the side of Gao Yang, still wore a placid expression, a barely perceptible smile hidden at the corner of his mouth.

The nobles in the plaza waited with lowered heads for a long while, but received no signal from Duke Bo Yu to order a cheer; puzzled, they raised their heads and finally caught the last scene of those powders scattering on the wind, and low gasps of alarm rose without cease.

Gao Yang rubbed his hands together, wiping away the last bit of mithril powder from his fingertips, and turned his head toward the plaza:

"The royal authority of Ansor is ended—begun with Moen, ended with Moen; it will make a dignified exit rather than an awkward, forced continuation. The last king of Ansor held this country together, and I hope you will remember that.

"This land will endure; this disaster will end; new shoots will grow from the scorched earth. But 'Ansor' has already become history. A brand-new nation will be founded here, to protect this land and the people upon it, and I hope you will understand that.

"I promise that this process will be steady and peaceful, that this land will in the end be prosperous and strong and will never fall into chaos and decline; and I promise that all acts that disrupt order will be severely punished. This is done to protect the safety and rights of all.

"This is not a suggestion but a notice, and I have clearly informed everyone present. Now, let those who oppose step out from the ranks and take one step forward."

You could have heard a pin drop across the whole plaza; only the war-chariots and the magic-energy combat soldiers of the Cecil Legion stood nearby, watching all this in silence, neither sorrowful nor joyful, in perfect discipline.

After an unbearable dead silence that felt as long as a century, Victoria suddenly said softly, "I support this."

Duke Bo Yu glanced at the Northern Grand Duchess.

The Southern Realm was Cecil territory; the Eastern Realm existed in name only; the Northern Realm had declared its allegiance; more than half of the Holy Spirit Plain lay under the actual control of the Cecil Legion; and the royal capital itself was within range of those war machines.

Support or no support, there was really no difference anymore—and besides, Gao Yang Cecil had already possessed the qualification to inherit royal authority; what he had done now was merely to take one step further upon that qualification.

"I support this," the Western Grand Duke said, stepping forward half a pace, his voice deep.

Gao Yang nodded to the two Guardian Dukes, swept his gaze over the crowd in the plaza, and showed a faint smile: "Very good—no one objects. Then I shall certainly honor my promises."

Then he spoke again: "Since we are to open a new chapter of history, there is a great deal for us to do—please pack your things as quickly as possible and return to the royal capital. I will discuss with the two Guardian Dukes how to restore order as quickly as possible, how to frame the nation as quickly as possible, how to restore production as quickly as possible. Moreover, this crisis is far from over; I believe those of you who are of the war faction can understand that. We are not yet at the point where we can relax."

Gao Yang finally used the crisis close at hand to give a slight reminder to those capital nobles who were sinking into bewilderment, and he was confident this would rouse their spirits for the time being and reduce the chaos that might follow.

This drama unfolded in an unexpected way and ended in an unexpected way; the vast procession re-formed its ranks and, in the slowly sinking sunset, set out for the royal capital.

The Cecil Legion entered the city.