The following day.
Thunder Dragon City.
Inside the magnificent Great Assembly Hall, dozens of giant pillars carved with ferocious thunder dragons supported a vaulted ceiling. Sunlight filtered through tall stained-glass windows, casting mottled, kaleidoscopic shadows across the floor.
Duke Aden Thunder Dragon sat regally upon high-backed oak throne, clad in purple-gold ducal robes and wearing the emblem of the Thunder Dragon family on his chest. First Prince Elliot had also donned a fresh set of formal robes today, standing at the forefront of the vassals with an expression of perfectly measured concern and respect.
Elliot stole a glance at his father. He had received Alaric's secret letter regarding the upheaval in Ironthorn; though surprised by Monde's incompetence, he had pivoted his plan rapidly. Leylo's unauthorized use of force to seize noble territory was a clear violation of the Duchy's laws—the perfect point of attack.
"Reporting to the Lord Duke!"
A short, stout Baron with a meticulously trimmed brown beard stepped forward. This was Baron Fielding, a man known to follow Prince Elliot's lead.
"Baron Leylo of Blackstone has ignored the laws of the Duchy, taking it upon himself to raise an army, invade Ironthorn, and take Baron Monde prisoner. Such conduct is no different from that of a common bandit! If this is not severely punished, where is the dignity of our laws? Will it not set a precedent where might makes right, leaving the Duchy in eternal chaos?"
No sooner had Fielding finished than a tall, thin Viscount with high cheekbones echoed the sentiment. "My Lord, Baron Fielding is correct! The Baron of Blackstone is young and arrogant; possessing a bit of martial strength, he treats the laws with contempt. This invasion sets a horrific precedent. I implore Your Grace to immediately dispatch the Thunder Dragon Knights to bring this madman to justice!"
Three or four more vassals stepped out in succession, their words increasingly heated. They decried Leylo's "lawlessness," suggesting his ambition would eventually threaten the entire Duchy. For a moment, the hall was a cacophony of righteous indignation, as if Leylo were already an unpardonable criminal.
Standing to the side, Prince Elliot felt a surge of triumph. These vassals were part of the network he had carefully cultivated, and today they had not disappointed him. He believed that under such overwhelming public pressure, even his father would have to consider the collective anger and punish Leylo.
High upon the throne, the Thunder Dragon Duke remained silent. Only when the clamor began to die down did he slowly speak.
"Are you all finished?"
The noisy hall fell instantly silent. The vassals who had just been red-faced with anger bowed their heads, not daring to meet the Duke's gaze.
"Raising an army and invading a noble territory without authorization is indeed a violation of the Duchy's laws," the Duke said flatly, his tone unreadable. "However, everything has a cause and an effect."
He paused, turning his gaze toward the Minister of Internal Affairs. "Read the urgent dispatch that arrived from Blackstone late last night for everyone to hear."
The Minister bowed, produced a thick stack of parchment, cleared his throat, and began to read aloud.
"The Confession of Crimes by Baron Monde. Exhibit One: Witness, Fernando, Chief Seneschal of Ironthorn Castle. 'One month ago, Baron Monde secretly contacted the notorious Blood Wolf Bandits, promising a heavy sum of gold to have them attack Blackstone and... "accidentally" kill Baron Leylo—'"
As the Minister read with dramatic cadence, one shocking confession after another was laid bare. There were twelve in total, featuring the signatures and thumbprints of Monde's head steward, his knight captain, and several captured bandit leaders. Each document detailed how Monde conspired with the Blood Wolves, how he planned the attack, and his explicit intent to end Leylo's life.
The hall went from silent to stunned. The vassals who had just been "speaking up for justice" on Monde's behalf now turned ashen, cold sweat drenching their brows. They never imagined the truth was so vile. To conspire with bandits against a fellow noble—especially one of the Duke's own blood—touched the most sensitive nerve of the aristocracy.
Prince Elliot's face drained of color. He felt a chill rise from the soles of his feet. These confessions were like a series of resounding slaps to his face.
"Have you all heard clearly now?" The Duke's voice echoed like ice from the abyss. "Monde conspired with bandits to attack Blackstone first; his crime is punishable by death! Baron Leylo struck back to defend his land; that is justified defense. What crime has he committed?"
His gaze, sharp as a sword, swept over the men who had shouted the loudest. "As for you, making such grand proclamations without checking the facts or distinguishing right from wrong—what exactly are your intentions?"
The accused vassals collapsed to their knees, knocking their heads against the floor. "Lord Duke, forgive us! We were foolish! Please, have mercy!"
"Hmph!" The Duke snorted, ignoring the turncoats. He stood up abruptly, his voice rising with thunderous wrath. "Monde was a Baron of this Duchy, fed by the crown, yet he chose to harbor bandits and murder his peers, even plotting against my own blood! Such conduct will not be tolerated by Aden Thunder Dragon!"
"Pass my orders!"
"First: Dispatch a squad of Thunder Dragon Knights to Ironthorn immediately to arrest the criminal Monde!"
"Second: Monde is sentenced to beheading. His sons and grandsons, three generations, shall be executed to sever his bloodline and uphold the law!"
"Third: Strip the title of Baron from Monde and reclaim all his fiefs!"
"Fourth: In view of the immense losses Blackstone suffered, all of Monde's private property is transferred to Blackstone. As compensation, Ironthorn Territory is hereby merged into the Blackstone map!"
The hall was so quiet one could hear a pin drop. The vassals bowed in fearful submission. They knew the Duke was truly enraged. Usually, he turned a blind eye to friction between nobles, but Monde had crossed the ultimate line: threatening the Duke's lineage.
The Duke's gaze finally settled on the pale, trembling Prince Elliot.
"Elliot."
"Your... Your son is here," Elliot bowed, struggling to remain steady.
The Duke looked at him deeply. "The impact of Monde's actions is heinous and must be dealt with as a warning to all. You shall go in my stead. With your own hand, you will take Monde's head and bring it back."
Elliot's head snapped up. Take Monde's head? That was equivalent to forcing him to personally execute his own pawn, signaling to everyone that he was severing all ties with the disgraced Baron!
"Father—" Elliot tried to find a way to refuse.
"What?" The Duke's eyebrow arched slightly. "You are unwilling?"
"No! Your son... your son obeys!" Elliot felt a shiver run down his spine.
"Good," the Duke said, his tone softening slightly. "Remember, you are a Prince of this Duchy. Your every word and action represents the honor of the Thunder Dragon family. Anyone who dares to challenge our laws or threaten our blood is an eternal enemy of the Thunder Dragon!"
"Depart tomorrow at dawn. Bring Monde's head back and hang it on the city gates for three days."
"Yes... Father." Elliot's voice was dry. He could feel his sweat-soaked undershirt clinging to his skin. He knew that from this moment on, his standing in his father's heart had plummeted.
The Duke gave one last look at the cowering ministers and the terrified Prince, then swept his sleeves.
"Dismissed!"
The vassals retreated from the hall as if they had just escaped a death sentence.