Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence Chapter 733 - 409: Home Stolen (Part 2)

"Allow him a bit of leeway," Raymond mused internally. "Let him flaunt his temporary success, let him revel in this fleeting, illusory glory for a few more days."

"Once his internal opposition is dealt with and his forces are depleted, I will systematically replace his personal guard, sever his financial lifelines, and subtly introduce a potent concoction into his sustenance. The bloodline of the Auguste dynasty has long since decayed. The future of the Empire does not require a broken, deranged figurehole on the Dragon Throne; it demands a true scion, one possessing authentic dragon's blood."

Despite the intricate web of stratagems weaving through his mind, Raymond's outward expression was one of a devoted minister, projecting an image of tender forbearance and sincere helplessness.

Approaching the doorway, he casually placed a hand on the shoulder of the captain of the Personal Guard. "Show me the way. As a loyal subject, I cannot keep His Highness waiting any longer."

......

Within the Second Prince's command chamber, the light burned intensely. Candle flames leaped and danced in the draft, casting an animating glow upon the vast Imperial sandbox, which resembled a beast being savagely rent asunder.

Kaelin stood with his back to the assembled company, his chest rising and falling with each breath, akin to a slumbering volcano on the verge of eruption. The atmosphere was thick with palpable tension; every Knight and Scout present remained rigidly poised against the walls, yet none dared to break the oppressive silence.

It was only when Kaelin slowly lifted a hand, his voice a low, resonant rasp, that the stillness was disturbed. "Repeat what you said."

The Scout's voice, quivering and nearly unrecognizable, affirmed, "Reporting to the Executive Officer... The Fifth Prince, Lampard, has absconded to the Southeast Province! Yesterday, with the backing of the heretical Church Court, he proclaimed the establishment of a new dominion: the Holy Eastern Empire!"

A profound and sudden quiet descended upon the entire chamber.

The Golden Feather Flower Church Court – an age-old adversary, deemed heretical by the very foundations of the Ironblood Empire.

Kaelin spun around abruptly, his voice erupting like thunder. "He had the audacity to ally with heretics?! He dared to permit heretics to plant their banner upon Imperial soil?!"

The Scout convulsed, continuing with a faltering voice, "The Fifth Prince has issued a 'Proclamation to Obliterate the Rebels,' leveling accusations of regicide against the Second and Fourth Princes concerning the Regent King... The Southeast Province has fully opened its borders to the Church Court's legions."

The sandbox shuddered, sending up a small cloud of dust.

Kaelin brought his fist down with force, his teeth clenched, his chest heaving violently. "That spineless wretch! To preserve his own skin, he would even stoop to selling his ancestors' very ashes to heretics!"

Raymond deliberately rolled up his Scroll, his gaze casually lifting. He cast a look encompassing the furious Kaelin and the kneeling Scout, a subtle smile beginning to form at the corners of his lips.

"Your Highness summoned me in the dead of night, only for it to transpire over such a minor affair," he remarked, moving towards the sandbox and retrieving a glass of deep red wine from a nearby table. "Lampard presumes that a few flasks of holy water, a handful of heretical bishops, and the Calvin Clan's wavering allegiance are enough to sustain a rival state? He is merely coalescing the Empire's traitors into a single, concentrated point, an act that will ultimately make their eradication by fire all the more convenient."

Raymond swirled the wine gently in his glass, not even deigning to glance at the newly erected Golden Feather Flower banner in the Southeast. "Pay it no mind. Once I have consolidated the Central Army and assimilated the remnants of Rhine's forces, I shall personally lead the Knights to raze those heretics' temples come next spring."

Though Kaelin's anger still roiled within him, Raymond's striking composure served to somewhat temper his fury. However, the very next moment, a sudden clamor erupted from beyond the chamber door.

"Emergency military dispatch! Urgent report from the Northern Territory!"

A Personal Guard burst in, dropping to one knee in the customary military salute. He held aloft a frost-encrusted Gale Bird dispatch tube.

The tube's purple-copper casing bore fine frost-crack patterns, a testament to its long-distance journey, and touching it evoked the sensation of a frigid wind from leagues away. This was clearly a top-tier, urgent military dispatch.

Kaelin raised a hand, gesturing for the message to be read aloud.

The guard retrieved a slender message slip, its runic ink shimmering within the candlelight's glow. He drew a deep breath and, adhering strictly to protocol, began to read the military intelligence verbatim, sentence by sentence:

"Urgent report! Louis Calvin, the Count of the Northern Territory, has initiated a southward advance, making contact with the Empire's Seventh and Fourteenth Legions, along with the Seventeenth Legion, within the Gray Stone Fortress defensive zone."

Raymond's nerves, previously frayed by the Southeast rebellion, found a peculiar relaxation upon hearing this news. He let out a faint, derisive snort. "Is Louis utterly deranged? With nearly ten thousand regular troops defending the fortress, does he truly believe he can breach its defenses with his family's paltry contingent? It’s like an egg smashing against a stone!"

A voice from the advisory council seats could not help but stifle a chuckle, evidently dismissing the report as a mere overzealous probing skirmish. Yet, the subsequent sentence delivered by the guard sliced through their amusement like a sharpened blade.

Still, the guard’s voice quivered, yet he persisted with the established procedure, continuing his report: "The engagement lasted merely one day; all three legions... were decisively routed. Gray Stone Fortress, on the third day, signaled its surrender... it is now lost."

"Clatter."

As the glass shattered on the floor, Raymond’s face appeared cleaved by an invisible blade, one half retaining its noble aloofness while the other contorted with fury and astonishment.

Shedding any pretense of composure, he bellowed in rage, "Preposterous! You couldn't butcher ten thousand swine in a single day!"

The guard, struggling to regain his composure, proceeded to read the concluding fragment of intelligence: "End of emergency dispatch: the entire Northern Army has now consolidated its forces, advancing southward and has officially breached Greyrock Province... This concludes the intelligence received."

The erratic dance of candlelight cast quivering shadows across the opulent walls of the Imperial Hall, the chamber falling into a profound silence, so dense it felt as if the very air had been leached away.

Instantly, Raymond’s expression underwent a radical transformation, for the true objective behind Louis’s machinations finally dawned upon him.

It wasn't about reinforcing the King, nor a bid for ultimate power, nor the conquest of the Northern Territories, but specifically Greyrock Province.

Within its borders lay the fruits of three centuries of his family’s diligent efforts, a war chest sufficient to provision ten legions, countless established financial agreements, and the secretive dragon blood project, a research endeavor that could irrevocably alter the Empire's strategic balance.

Should such assets fall under Louis’s dominion...

Raymond’s chest heaved with alarming intensity, yet his demeanor had shifted from frantic despair to a chilling calm.

With deliberate slowness, he extended a hand, retrieving the slender message slip, compelling himself to stifle the urge to cry out and deliberately guide his thoughts back towards strategic reasoning.

His gaze fixed upon the date imprinted at the slip’s footer: seventeen days.