Chapter 542: Merciless
Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
On the dukes’ long tables, Prime Minister Cullen sighed, still shell-shocked; Zayen sneered subtly; One-Eyed Dragon was expressionless; Duke Val was still drinking alone like no one else was there.
Banquet speech, banquet speech… Thales silently muttered to himself, but his mind was blank.
Just like how the deadline for submitting your homework was at midnight, but up till 11.50 in the evening, the document in your hands was still blank.
‘Wait a minute.
‘There are references for banquet speeches, aren’t there?’
In the next instant.
“My lords, welcome. Welcome to Mindis Hall.”
Thales raised his wine glass with one hand and slowly paced away from his seat so that everyone could see him.
Out of courtesy, the guests all rose from their seats.
He leisurely and calmly (“Quick quick quick what should I say next…”—Thales’ inner monologue) scanned the hall; his voice was clearly audible as it echoed, “It’s a full house packed with esteemed guests.
“I have only ever attended such a large banquet once in my lifetime,” Thales lowered his head as if reminiscing, and paused for a few seconds.
He looked up and smiled.
“You know, in Dragon Clouds City,”
“King Nuven wanted to thank me for… er, slaughtering his son.”
Everyone in the hall burst into laughter.
Except the Northland guests, whose faces were ashen.
Thales shrugged helplessly.
Banquet.
At that moment, King Nuven raising a wine glass along with his bold and rugged look inevitably emerged in the young man’s mind.
As well as the firm and compelling voice of The Born King at the welcome banquet with Northland characteristics,
“Bring it on! Eat! Drink! Fight! Copulate! Do whatever you want!”
“Until all of you are laying, rolling, sprawling, crawling, or carried out of my palace!”
“You bastards!”
Thales smiled faintly as he silently glanced at the civilized Constellatiate guests.
He decisively kicked the bellowing King Nuven out of his head.
“Trust me, you wouldn’t want to be there,”
Thales sighed. “The food in Dragon Clouds City was terrible, even the alcohol was bad. It’s torture.”
Some guests chuckled dimly.
Thales shrugged and his face lit up.
“I guess, this is why he wanted to thank me—for slaughtering his son.”
Waves of laughter burst out again.
Elise glanced at Thales with a strange look, worried about his boldness.
Mallos consoled the anxious Gilbert in a hushed voice, informing him that this was how His Grace the duke vented for the past few months, it’s fine once you get used to it.
Jorge huffed irritably.
“Yes, this was also why, when the Archduke of Black Sand took the throne and drank Dragon Clouds City’s specialty wine…”
Thales shook his glass.
“He regretted it.”
Laughter in the hall seemed to become the norm.
“King Chapman hated me. He imprisoned me for a whole six years…”
Thales looked at everyone, slightly puzzled. “But I couldn’t help him. I mean…”
The Duke of Star Lake shrugged with outward facing palms, his expression helpless. “I couldn’t well kill every Eckstedtian king, could I?”
The laughter in the hall grew louder. Unexpectedly, Duke Val was among those laughing. He stared at his own glass, with no intention of concealing his laughter.
King Kessel narrowed his eyes.
Thales took a deep breath, reached out a hand and gestured to calm down the laughter in the banquet hall.
“Well, many of you here may know me.”
The reaction was mixed at the dukes’ tables.
“That’s right, I just ended a six-year-long journey,” Thales faced the guests squarely and was satisfied to find them sitting upright and still, and continued, “It was civilized and elegant, tranquil and peaceful.”
Some guests tried but failed to hold their laughter in.
But Thales’ tone took a quick turn, “And my return must have been surprising for many, because I can see in your eyes: doubt, vigilance, alienation, hostility.”
The last word cooled down the initially relaxed and jovial atmosphere in the banquet hall.
One-Eyed Dragon and the Duke of Iris Flowers stared fixedly at Thales, as if deep in thought.
Thales turned away a little to avoid looking at the king’s expression.
“What has become of this prince that suddenly appeared six years ago after his return from an enemy kingdom? What will he bring you? What will he bring the king? Is it peace or turmoil, stability or change?”
“It’s understandable, because I have the same doubts.”
Thales’ expression was solemn. “Some rejoice, some are confused, some spectate, some hesitate, and of course, there might be some that don’t want to see me appear.”
These words brought the hall to a complete silence.
“But I remember six years ago, when I was about to leave for the north, a lord cautioned me,” Thales looked at the wine glass in his hand, his expression solemn, “to go to Eckstedt, go to the children of Northern Wind and Dragon, go see Constellation from another perspective, another world, and I might gain something from it.”
The way the Duke of Nanchester looked at him changed.
“Indeed I have gained something from it.”
Thales looked up and raised his eyebrows. “Most importantly… don’t drink Eckstedtian wine.”
The guests burst into laughter again.
But Thales briskly went back on track. “But I am still confused.”
This time, there was no longer jest in the eyes of the Duke of Star Lake. “Jokes aside, Nuven the Seventh was undoubtedly a great king,”
“He was decisive, visionary, generous, valiant, and incredibly intelligent. Yet even a born king like him could not prevent his own demise, could not rescue Dragon Clouds City from disaster, could not halt the decline of Eckstedt.”
Many guests started to whisper.
Thales’ seemed pensive.
“This made me wonder…
“How we, as their neighboring kingdom, should live, should govern, should progress, so as to avoid such a fate, to not have regrets?”
Thales paused for a few seconds to let the guest’s discussions simmer before he held his head up high and said with a resolute expression, “Honestly, I don’t know,”
Thales continued loudly, “But when I stepped into this hall, I think, at least now I know where the answer lies.”
Thales raised his wine glass. “Today isn’t just about me…”
“Three thousand years ago, the ancient kings led their armies north, took a gamble, battled orcs and traveled thousands of miles for the Holy Pursuit.”
Thales recalled his Errol history lessons. “Not only King Anzac from the cliffs, but the people of Rudoll, the Ancient Chauvinistic Tribe, Northland, Sorenlan, Faraway Mountain, Calunsia, Salt Flats… It was only through the united efforts and selflessness of countless peoples, countless kingdoms and countless city-states that produced a miracle and made history,”
Thales boomed, “They stood on Glacier, stepped on the skulls of orcs, and declared to the world: as long as we work together, humans are invincible!”
The expression of many guests turned somber as they raised their glass to Thales in salute.
“In contrast…”
Thales put on a grim expression as he carefully looked at each guest: Duke Cullen with an innocent look, Zayen who looked somber, Koshder who seemed deep in thought, Val who was silently in a daze…
“Split and decline, infighting weakens, the selfish are contemptible, infighters perish.”
There was gravitas in Thales’ voice. He looked around and said without a doubt, “Trust me, I have witnessed how the descendants of Raikaru the Hero live: King Nuven’s oppressive rule fueled suspicion, King Chapman’s brutality antagonized many, the ruthless ambitions of the archdukes brought about social unrest, and the blind fanaticism and self-righteousness of Northlanders exacerbated the situation to an irreparable state,”
He continued sternly, “So I understood, whether it’s the Holiness Exorcism Campaign or our kingdom today, only when we overcome these weaknesses, only with unity, can we stand tall and look towards the heavens,”
Thales said loudly, “Just as yours and my faithful and unwavering ambitions today, yesterday, and in the countless days and nights in future!”
Gilbert and a few close friends had odd expressions on their faces, as if shocked at the prince’s impromptu performance.
In the next second, Thales raised his glass over his head and yelled, “To Constellation!”
Thales went on, “For allowing us to bask in her radiance for the past 700 years, we thank her for her greatness; for allowing us to take shelter under her wings, we share her glory!”
A second of silence.
Until the Duke of the Northern Territory in shackles, Val Arunde, unexpectedly raised his glass and responded decisively, “To Constellation!”
The one-eyed Duke of Land of Cliffs, Koshder Nanchester smiled and raised his glass, “To Constellation!”
Immediately afterward, Queen Keya raised her glass in anticipation and cooperation, which led a large number of unaccustomed guests to raise their glasses.
Soon, under the urging gaze of the queen, the king huffed softly and raised his glass nonchalantly.
With precedent, the mood of the guests was stirred up as they raised their glasses together and responded, “To Constellation!”
The hall instantly erupted with a sound that reverberated throughout the hall.
Thales inhaled deeply as he expelled the cat-herding anxiety from his mind. “To the king!”
Thales turned to King Kessel, raised his glass high and tried hard not to read the infinitely complex nuance in the latter’s eyes. “To his bravery in the face of danger which steered us away from crisis, to him shedding blood, sweat, and tears to resolutely and unyieldingly guard the kingdom for the past decades!”
The guests in the hall gradually became accustomed and responded in unison, “To the king!”
Thales’ speech became more fluent. He turned around to face the entire hall and swiveled his glass, “To us!”
“To everyone here and our ancestors, to our enduring grand enterprise that bears the most glorious history of humankind achieved through concerted efforts in advancing despite shouldering great responsibility! And to our perpetual invincibility!”
The guests raised their glasses and responded, like water breaking out of a dam, “To us!”
Thales felt a sense of relief. He smiled and looked towards the north. “And—”
Thales bellowed earnestly, “Fuck you! Chapman Lampard!”
Without the need to be reminded, and as if without much thought, many yelled without hesitating, “Fuck you! Chapman Lampard!”
After yelling this, many were flabbergasted before coming to themselves and roaring with laughter.
This time, guests from different seating tiers and different backgrounds were in rare unison, including Northlanders like Jorge and Levi, who shouted wholeheartedly and candidly.
But at this moment, a different voice cut through the crowd and shouted, “To Duke Thales!”
Thales was slightly shocked.
It was a modestly-clothed, plain-looking young noble. He stood at the seats for foreign guests, raised his glass determinedly and yelled, “To his open-mindedness, wisdom, big heart, courage—and youth!”
Everyone was again stunned, but soon many responded.
“To the Duke of Star Lake!”
“To Prince Thales!”
“To Jadestar!”
The sound of the crowd echoing in agreement could be heard in waves like a grand chorus, but many were regretting: why didn’t they speak up first?
Thales took it all in, and unable to take into account the expression of the king behind him, inhaled deeply.
“Everyone!”
Thales gaze was resolute and steady as he raised his glass and shouted a long, final toast, “The Empire shall last—”
Without any reminders necessary, the entire galvanized crowd reacted in unison and yelled out the remainder of the sentence that they knew by heart, “—so long as the stars remain!”
Thales struck the iron while it was hot, raised his head and took a swig from his glass. To achieve the dramatic effect of draining everything in one gulp, he even spilled some wine in the process.
Thankfully it was not the rye distilled spirit of the Northland, but local Constellation grape wine instead.
Thales lowered his head. When he saw that the guests were almost done with their drink, he chuckled. “Very well, let the banquet—”
In the next second, Thales instinctively chucked his glass downwards, “—commence!”
But this time, Thales did not hear the invigorating loud thud of a sturdy Northland wine goblet against the table or stone tiles that he had been accustomed to for the past few years.
Instead…
Crash—
Thales shuddered!
This sound…
Crisp, melodious, clean…
Induces…
Heartbreak.
Everyone froze.
The banquet hall fell silent.
The Duke of Star Lake arduously lowered his head and looked at his feet, at the valuable wine glass that had shattered into pieces.
Shit.
Thales immediately realized that he was in big trouble.
He shifted his feet expressionlessly in an attempt to distance himself from the scene of the crime, but his boot stepped on a piece of glass which instead made an anxiety-inducing sound.
This attracted even more gazes, all focused on the prince.
The guests at the royal banquet exchanged looks.
Many were still holding their empty wine glasses, having just drank the wine.
They looked at the culprit who had committed the felony of murdering a wine glass in front of the entire kingdom, the Duke of Star Lake, and did not know what to make of it.
Until, at a faraway seat, Administrator Jorge from Elaphure City finished his wine and enthusiastically smashed his wine glass downwards in a swift move!
Crash—
The sound of glass shattering made everyone tremble again.
But in the next moment, the quickest to react was Gilbert. He poured away his leftover wine without hesitation and similarly raised his hand and threw his wine glass towards the floor!
Crash!
Beside him, Thales’ personal guard captain, Lord Mallos remained expressionless, but smashed his wine glass all the same!
Crash!
In the presence of eminence, many perceptive Constellation guests pulled themselves together and, one after another, regardless of whether they were accustomed to it, were adept at it or approved of it, they raised their hands and smashed their glasses hard!
Crash! Crack! Thump! Smash… 1
All of a sudden, it sounded like ice was breaking and silver bottles were exploding throughout the banquet hall; crisp and sharp cracking noises could be heard in waves, echoing like a concerto.
Even the dignified Queen Keya flung her specialty glass exuberantly, which flew out in an arc and landed on the floor…
Shattered.
That was not all. Gilbert kept signaling to the Chief of Palace Administration with his gaze.
The latter finally understood and quickly waved a hand.
Musicians, clowns, and minstrels came forward and started playing music and performing a dance.
The servants were yelling at each other in a fluster. Their thick soles stepped on the broken glass that was all over the floor, making crunching sounds as they approached to serve the food.
The banquet commenced.
Music and performances, food and wine, the atmosphere in the banquet hall was finally revived.
Conversations, discussions, and laughter flowed freely amongst the guests.
Eclipsing the uproar and astonishment, interruption and awkwardness caused by Thales ‘casual’ gesture.
Gilbert breathed a sigh of relief.
The Foreign Affairs Minister felt his forehead; it was drenched in cold sweat.
His Grace…
The culprit, the instigator, the respected Duke of Star Lake, Thales, dejectedly walked on a floor full of broken glass and returned to his seat mechanically accompanied by the symphony of sounds in his ears and from his feet.
“Thales.”
Elise calmly towed a foot to sweep away her wine glass that was only half-broken due to her lack of skill and asked hesitatingly, “About earlier…”
“I know, I know. I apologize. I’m sorry, it’s my fault,” Thales responded with a forced smile. Bearing in mind his aunt’s counsel, he looked composed even though he was embarrassed to the core, as if he was born this way.
“I was just…”
“Used to it.”
At the highest seating tier, King Kessel was expressionless as he gently lowered the intact wine glass in his hand.
In the entire hall, in addition to the banquet commencement toasts, many guests were spiritedly discussing what had happened earlier, for example those at the Seven Jadestars Attendants table.
“Is this a Constellatiate, or Eckstedtian banquet?” Baron Stoned queried with a frown.
Viscount Patterson scoffed and looked towards the unfazed Prince Thales, half smirking, “Is that important?”
“Haha, liveliness is great,” old Baron Doyle added with a laugh, “People adore those who are lively!”
The others were silent.
But some did not think that way.
As the Chief of Palace Administration who came to Mindis Hall to help organize the banquet, Baron Quentin was dumbstruck. He trembled as he instructed the servants, “Clean…clean it up…”
“Also, pass it along, send for a new batch of official wine glasses…”
But he caught a hold of himself almost instantly and halted the servant, “Wait!”
“Remember to fetch twice as many.”
Baron Quentin gritted his teeth in fury. He took in the entire hall full of broken glass and told the perplexed servant, “As spare.”
Just as the banquet atmosphere heated up and everyone was immersed in food, wine and chit-chat without a care in the world, a stern-looking guest was prodding the roast goose on his plate with a fork in a remote corner unnoticed by anyone, his gaze distracted.
In the next second, he felt something on his rib.
The guest turned slightly pale. He wanted to turn around, but hearing a familiar, mature voice, he froze.
“Don’t turn around.”
The mature voice drawled on, “You should know how difficult it is to get this thing in here.”
The guest was stiff as a board, but lowered his right hand to receive the ‘thing’ from under the table.
“Why?” the guest asked, puzzled.
The mature voice replied faintly and casually, “I know what you plan to do. But obviously, this would be more effective.
“If you have indeed made up your mind.”
The guest felt his emotions tense up.
He looked at the fork on the table and asked painstakingly, “Why?”
The mature voice did not answer directly but merely said, “Remember, target accurately.
“You’ll only get one chance.”
The guest gritted his teeth. “I don’t understand, he clearly refused me, why…”
But the mature voice did not respond further.
As if it was never there.
The guest took a deep breath, shut his eyes and stuffed the thing under his ribs into his clothes.
Target, accurately?
The guest slowly looked up towards the upper tiers of the banquet hall, to a seat below the king’s.
Seated there was a composed but extraordinary…
Youth.
The guest kept breathing in a daze; his gaze shifted from pain to torment, to indignation, to jealousy, to hesitation, and gradually to unwavering determination and ruthlessness.
He stared fixedly at the exuberant young duke and felt the stranger’s gift under his clothes.
A chilling sensation spread across the skin of his hand.
He knew, that was a short sword.
Of premium quality.
It’s sharp blade cold.
And merciless.
Chapter 542: Merciless
Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
On the dukes’ long tables, Prime Minister Cullen sighed, still shell-shocked; Zayen sneered subtly; One-Eyed Dragon was expressionless; Duke Val was still drinking alone like no one else was there.
Banquet speech, banquet speech… Thales silently muttered to himself, but his mind was blank.
Just like how the deadline for submitting your homework was at midnight, but up till 11.50 in the evening, the document in your hands was still blank.
‘Wait a minute.
‘There are references for banquet speeches, aren’t there?’
In the next instant.
“My lords, welcome. Welcome to Mindis Hall.”
Thales raised his wine glass with one hand and slowly paced away from his seat so that everyone could see him.
Out of courtesy, the guests all rose from their seats.
He leisurely and calmly (“Quick quick quick what should I say next…”—Thales’ inner monologue) scanned the hall; his voice was clearly audible as it echoed, “It’s a full house packed with esteemed guests.
“I have only ever attended such a large banquet once in my lifetime,” Thales lowered his head as if reminiscing, and paused for a few seconds.
He looked up and smiled.
“You know, in Dragon Clouds City,”
“King Nuven wanted to thank me for… er, slaughtering his son.”
Everyone in the hall burst into laughter.
Except the Northland guests, whose faces were ashen.
Thales shrugged helplessly.
Banquet.
At that moment, King Nuven raising a wine glass along with his bold and rugged look inevitably emerged in the young man’s mind.
As well as the firm and compelling voice of The Born King at the welcome banquet with Northland characteristics,
“Bring it on! Eat! Drink! Fight! Copulate! Do whatever you want!”
“Until all of you are laying, rolling, sprawling, crawling, or carried out of my palace!”
“You bastards!”
Thales smiled faintly as he silently glanced at the civilized Constellatiate guests.
He decisively kicked the bellowing King Nuven out of his head.
“Trust me, you wouldn’t want to be there,”
Thales sighed. “The food in Dragon Clouds City was terrible, even the alcohol was bad. It’s torture.”
Some guests chuckled dimly.
Thales shrugged and his face lit up.
“I guess, this is why he wanted to thank me—for slaughtering his son.”
Waves of laughter burst out again.
Elise glanced at Thales with a strange look, worried about his boldness.
Mallos consoled the anxious Gilbert in a hushed voice, informing him that this was how His Grace the duke vented for the past few months, it’s fine once you get used to it.
Jorge huffed irritably.
“Yes, this was also why, when the Archduke of Black Sand took the throne and drank Dragon Clouds City’s specialty wine…”
Thales shook his glass.
“He regretted it.”
Laughter in the hall seemed to become the norm.
“King Chapman hated me. He imprisoned me for a whole six years…”
Thales looked at everyone, slightly puzzled. “But I couldn’t help him. I mean…”
The Duke of Star Lake shrugged with outward facing palms, his expression helpless. “I couldn’t well kill every Eckstedtian king, could I?”
The laughter in the hall grew louder. Unexpectedly, Duke Val was among those laughing. He stared at his own glass, with no intention of concealing his laughter.
King Kessel narrowed his eyes.
Thales took a deep breath, reached out a hand and gestured to calm down the laughter in the banquet hall.
“Well, many of you here may know me.”
The reaction was mixed at the dukes’ tables.
“That’s right, I just ended a six-year-long journey,” Thales faced the guests squarely and was satisfied to find them sitting upright and still, and continued, “It was civilized and elegant, tranquil and peaceful.”
Some guests tried but failed to hold their laughter in.
But Thales’ tone took a quick turn, “And my return must have been surprising for many, because I can see in your eyes: doubt, vigilance, alienation, hostility.”
The last word cooled down the initially relaxed and jovial atmosphere in the banquet hall.
One-Eyed Dragon and the Duke of Iris Flowers stared fixedly at Thales, as if deep in thought.
Thales turned away a little to avoid looking at the king’s expression.
“What has become of this prince that suddenly appeared six years ago after his return from an enemy kingdom? What will he bring you? What will he bring the king? Is it peace or turmoil, stability or change?”
“It’s understandable, because I have the same doubts.”
Thales’ expression was solemn. “Some rejoice, some are confused, some spectate, some hesitate, and of course, there might be some that don’t want to see me appear.”
These words brought the hall to a complete silence.
“But I remember six years ago, when I was about to leave for the north, a lord cautioned me,” Thales looked at the wine glass in his hand, his expression solemn, “to go to Eckstedt, go to the children of Northern Wind and Dragon, go see Constellation from another perspective, another world, and I might gain something from it.”
The way the Duke of Nanchester looked at him changed.
“Indeed I have gained something from it.”
Thales looked up and raised his eyebrows. “Most importantly… don’t drink Eckstedtian wine.”
The guests burst into laughter again.
But Thales briskly went back on track. “But I am still confused.”
This time, there was no longer jest in the eyes of the Duke of Star Lake. “Jokes aside, Nuven the Seventh was undoubtedly a great king,”
“He was decisive, visionary, generous, valiant, and incredibly intelligent. Yet even a born king like him could not prevent his own demise, could not rescue Dragon Clouds City from disaster, could not halt the decline of Eckstedt.”
Many guests started to whisper.
Thales’ seemed pensive.
“This made me wonder…
“How we, as their neighboring kingdom, should live, should govern, should progress, so as to avoid such a fate, to not have regrets?”
Thales paused for a few seconds to let the guest’s discussions simmer before he held his head up high and said with a resolute expression, “Honestly, I don’t know,”
Thales continued loudly, “But when I stepped into this hall, I think, at least now I know where the answer lies.”
Thales raised his wine glass. “Today isn’t just about me…”
“Three thousand years ago, the ancient kings led their armies north, took a gamble, battled orcs and traveled thousands of miles for the Holy Pursuit.”
Thales recalled his Errol history lessons. “Not only King Anzac from the cliffs, but the people of Rudoll, the Ancient Chauvinistic Tribe, Northland, Sorenlan, Faraway Mountain, Calunsia, Salt Flats… It was only through the united efforts and selflessness of countless peoples, countless kingdoms and countless city-states that produced a miracle and made history,”
Thales boomed, “They stood on Glacier, stepped on the skulls of orcs, and declared to the world: as long as we work together, humans are invincible!”
The expression of many guests turned somber as they raised their glass to Thales in salute.
“In contrast…”
Thales put on a grim expression as he carefully looked at each guest: Duke Cullen with an innocent look, Zayen who looked somber, Koshder who seemed deep in thought, Val who was silently in a daze…
“Split and decline, infighting weakens, the selfish are contemptible, infighters perish.”
There was gravitas in Thales’ voice. He looked around and said without a doubt, “Trust me, I have witnessed how the descendants of Raikaru the Hero live: King Nuven’s oppressive rule fueled suspicion, King Chapman’s brutality antagonized many, the ruthless ambitions of the archdukes brought about social unrest, and the blind fanaticism and self-righteousness of Northlanders exacerbated the situation to an irreparable state,”
He continued sternly, “So I understood, whether it’s the Holiness Exorcism Campaign or our kingdom today, only when we overcome these weaknesses, only with unity, can we stand tall and look towards the heavens,”
Thales said loudly, “Just as yours and my faithful and unwavering ambitions today, yesterday, and in the countless days and nights in future!”
Gilbert and a few close friends had odd expressions on their faces, as if shocked at the prince’s impromptu performance.
In the next second, Thales raised his glass over his head and yelled, “To Constellation!”
Thales went on, “For allowing us to bask in her radiance for the past 700 years, we thank her for her greatness; for allowing us to take shelter under her wings, we share her glory!”
A second of silence.
Until the Duke of the Northern Territory in shackles, Val Arunde, unexpectedly raised his glass and responded decisively, “To Constellation!”
The one-eyed Duke of Land of Cliffs, Koshder Nanchester smiled and raised his glass, “To Constellation!”
Immediately afterward, Queen Keya raised her glass in anticipation and cooperation, which led a large number of unaccustomed guests to raise their glasses.
Soon, under the urging gaze of the queen, the king huffed softly and raised his glass nonchalantly.
With precedent, the mood of the guests was stirred up as they raised their glasses together and responded, “To Constellation!”
The hall instantly erupted with a sound that reverberated throughout the hall.
Thales inhaled deeply as he expelled the cat-herding anxiety from his mind. “To the king!”
Thales turned to King Kessel, raised his glass high and tried hard not to read the infinitely complex nuance in the latter’s eyes. “To his bravery in the face of danger which steered us away from crisis, to him shedding blood, sweat, and tears to resolutely and unyieldingly guard the kingdom for the past decades!”
The guests in the hall gradually became accustomed and responded in unison, “To the king!”
Thales’ speech became more fluent. He turned around to face the entire hall and swiveled his glass, “To us!”
“To everyone here and our ancestors, to our enduring grand enterprise that bears the most glorious history of humankind achieved through concerted efforts in advancing despite shouldering great responsibility! And to our perpetual invincibility!”
The guests raised their glasses and responded, like water breaking out of a dam, “To us!”
Thales felt a sense of relief. He smiled and looked towards the north. “And—”
Thales bellowed earnestly, “Fuck you! Chapman Lampard!”
Without the need to be reminded, and as if without much thought, many yelled without hesitating, “Fuck you! Chapman Lampard!”
After yelling this, many were flabbergasted before coming to themselves and roaring with laughter.
This time, guests from different seating tiers and different backgrounds were in rare unison, including Northlanders like Jorge and Levi, who shouted wholeheartedly and candidly.
But at this moment, a different voice cut through the crowd and shouted, “To Duke Thales!”
Thales was slightly shocked.
It was a modestly-clothed, plain-looking young noble. He stood at the seats for foreign guests, raised his glass determinedly and yelled, “To his open-mindedness, wisdom, big heart, courage—and youth!”
Everyone was again stunned, but soon many responded.
“To the Duke of Star Lake!”
“To Prince Thales!”
“To Jadestar!”
The sound of the crowd echoing in agreement could be heard in waves like a grand chorus, but many were regretting: why didn’t they speak up first?
Thales took it all in, and unable to take into account the expression of the king behind him, inhaled deeply.
“Everyone!”
Thales gaze was resolute and steady as he raised his glass and shouted a long, final toast, “The Empire shall last—”
Without any reminders necessary, the entire galvanized crowd reacted in unison and yelled out the remainder of the sentence that they knew by heart, “—so long as the stars remain!”
Thales struck the iron while it was hot, raised his head and took a swig from his glass. To achieve the dramatic effect of draining everything in one gulp, he even spilled some wine in the process.
Thankfully it was not the rye distilled spirit of the Northland, but local Constellation grape wine instead.
Thales lowered his head. When he saw that the guests were almost done with their drink, he chuckled. “Very well, let the banquet—”
In the next second, Thales instinctively chucked his glass downwards, “—commence!”
But this time, Thales did not hear the invigorating loud thud of a sturdy Northland wine goblet against the table or stone tiles that he had been accustomed to for the past few years.
Instead…
Crash—
Thales shuddered!
This sound…
Crisp, melodious, clean…
Induces…
Heartbreak.
Everyone froze.
The banquet hall fell silent.
The Duke of Star Lake arduously lowered his head and looked at his feet, at the valuable wine glass that had shattered into pieces.
Shit.
Thales immediately realized that he was in big trouble.
He shifted his feet expressionlessly in an attempt to distance himself from the scene of the crime, but his boot stepped on a piece of glass which instead made an anxiety-inducing sound.
This attracted even more gazes, all focused on the prince.
The guests at the royal banquet exchanged looks.
Many were still holding their empty wine glasses, having just drank the wine.
They looked at the culprit who had committed the felony of murdering a wine glass in front of the entire kingdom, the Duke of Star Lake, and did not know what to make of it.
Until, at a faraway seat, Administrator Jorge from Elaphure City finished his wine and enthusiastically smashed his wine glass downwards in a swift move!
Crash—
The sound of glass shattering made everyone tremble again.
But in the next moment, the quickest to react was Gilbert. He poured away his leftover wine without hesitation and similarly raised his hand and threw his wine glass towards the floor!
Crash!
Beside him, Thales’ personal guard captain, Lord Mallos remained expressionless, but smashed his wine glass all the same!
Crash!
In the presence of eminence, many perceptive Constellation guests pulled themselves together and, one after another, regardless of whether they were accustomed to it, were adept at it or approved of it, they raised their hands and smashed their glasses hard!
Crash! Crack! Thump! Smash… 1
All of a sudden, it sounded like ice was breaking and silver bottles were exploding throughout the banquet hall; crisp and sharp cracking noises could be heard in waves, echoing like a concerto.
Even the dignified Queen Keya flung her specialty glass exuberantly, which flew out in an arc and landed on the floor…
Shattered.
That was not all. Gilbert kept signaling to the Chief of Palace Administration with his gaze.
The latter finally understood and quickly waved a hand.
Musicians, clowns, and minstrels came forward and started playing music and performing a dance.
The servants were yelling at each other in a fluster. Their thick soles stepped on the broken glass that was all over the floor, making crunching sounds as they approached to serve the food.
The banquet commenced.
Music and performances, food and wine, the atmosphere in the banquet hall was finally revived.
Conversations, discussions, and laughter flowed freely amongst the guests.
Eclipsing the uproar and astonishment, interruption and awkwardness caused by Thales ‘casual’ gesture.
Gilbert breathed a sigh of relief.
The Foreign Affairs Minister felt his forehead; it was drenched in cold sweat.
His Grace…
The culprit, the instigator, the respected Duke of Star Lake, Thales, dejectedly walked on a floor full of broken glass and returned to his seat mechanically accompanied by the symphony of sounds in his ears and from his feet.
“Thales.”
Elise calmly towed a foot to sweep away her wine glass that was only half-broken due to her lack of skill and asked hesitatingly, “About earlier…”
“I know, I know. I apologize. I’m sorry, it’s my fault,” Thales responded with a forced smile. Bearing in mind his aunt’s counsel, he looked composed even though he was embarrassed to the core, as if he was born this way.
“I was just…”
“Used to it.”
At the highest seating tier, King Kessel was expressionless as he gently lowered the intact wine glass in his hand.
In the entire hall, in addition to the banquet commencement toasts, many guests were spiritedly discussing what had happened earlier, for example those at the Seven Jadestars Attendants table.
“Is this a Constellatiate, or Eckstedtian banquet?” Baron Stoned queried with a frown.
Viscount Patterson scoffed and looked towards the unfazed Prince Thales, half smirking, “Is that important?”
“Haha, liveliness is great,” old Baron Doyle added with a laugh, “People adore those who are lively!”
The others were silent.
But some did not think that way.
As the Chief of Palace Administration who came to Mindis Hall to help organize the banquet, Baron Quentin was dumbstruck. He trembled as he instructed the servants, “Clean…clean it up…”
“Also, pass it along, send for a new batch of official wine glasses…”
But he caught a hold of himself almost instantly and halted the servant, “Wait!”
“Remember to fetch twice as many.”
Baron Quentin gritted his teeth in fury. He took in the entire hall full of broken glass and told the perplexed servant, “As spare.”
Just as the banquet atmosphere heated up and everyone was immersed in food, wine and chit-chat without a care in the world, a stern-looking guest was prodding the roast goose on his plate with a fork in a remote corner unnoticed by anyone, his gaze distracted.
In the next second, he felt something on his rib.
The guest turned slightly pale. He wanted to turn around, but hearing a familiar, mature voice, he froze.
“Don’t turn around.”
The mature voice drawled on, “You should know how difficult it is to get this thing in here.”
The guest was stiff as a board, but lowered his right hand to receive the ‘thing’ from under the table.
“Why?” the guest asked, puzzled.
The mature voice replied faintly and casually, “I know what you plan to do. But obviously, this would be more effective.
“If you have indeed made up your mind.”
The guest felt his emotions tense up.
He looked at the fork on the table and asked painstakingly, “Why?”
The mature voice did not answer directly but merely said, “Remember, target accurately.
“You’ll only get one chance.”
The guest gritted his teeth. “I don’t understand, he clearly refused me, why…”
But the mature voice did not respond further.
As if it was never there.
The guest took a deep breath, shut his eyes and stuffed the thing under his ribs into his clothes.
Target, accurately?
The guest slowly looked up towards the upper tiers of the banquet hall, to a seat below the king’s.
Seated there was a composed but extraordinary…
Youth.
The guest kept breathing in a daze; his gaze shifted from pain to torment, to indignation, to jealousy, to hesitation, and gradually to unwavering determination and ruthlessness.
He stared fixedly at the exuberant young duke and felt the stranger’s gift under his clothes.
A chilling sensation spread across the skin of his hand.
He knew, that was a short sword.
Of premium quality.
It’s sharp blade cold.
And merciless.
