Chapter 134: Myriadspire (3)
"I came, I saw, I conquered."
Those words could have been forged to describe a single man: the Marquis Mephisto of Hymenoptera.
This noble had distinguished himself through his intelligence and strategies, to the point of becoming the most feared figure in gatherings of high nobility the one whose opinion was as dreaded as it was sought after. But if one had to recall the feat that truly cemented his reputation, anyone would unhesitatingly cite the fall of Invictus, of which he had been the sole architect.
Then merely a count, without land or particular prestige, he had dared what no high-ranking noble had attempted in generations and succeeded where many had once failed. The epic told that he had managed, alone, to set foot upon the human continent, to humiliate their greatest warriors, to seize the treasures of their most powerful empire, and that he had returned not as he had left, but as a Marquis, accompanied by thousands of subjects and bearing royal recognition.
This prodigy had earned him distinction from the King himself, who had granted him a territory as a reward, along with the prestige of a spire in Myriadspire.
However, such renown came at a price that even he could not ignore.
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"We no longer have the luxury of hesitation."
The voice of Marquis Vratos was strong and commanding, echoing through the assembly with an authority his listeners were not accustomed to hearing from him. All eyes had turned toward him attention he deeply relished.
("And who would have thought it was this easy to make them listen to me... That damned Zero truly did not lie.")
Buoyed by this inner satisfaction, he continued his speech according to the instructions he had received.
"His Highness Helion has fallen in battle. The Duchy of Araceae has been annihilated. The other factions have already taken advantage of our decline if we do not make a decision immediately, our voice will no longer carry any weight in the race for the throne."
He paused, letting the threat sink into their minds.
"During Prince Helion’s lifetime, seven other princes managed to manifest a Royal Authority, rising into the succession struggle. Each of them commands a united faction and the support of several duchies. We the remnants of Prince Helion’s faction are now seen by them as unprotected prey."
A heavy silence settled. No one objected.
"Yet all is not lost. During Prince Helion’s lifetime, he maintained a healthy rivalry with Prince Leonidas. The latter has secretly secured the support of three powerful duchies."
The revelation sent a ripple of shock through the assembly. No one had expected Leonidas’s faction to already be so firmly established.
("Exactly as Zero had foreseen.")
Vratos felt his inner satisfaction peak. He delivered the final blow.
"Prince Leonidas is currently recruiting trustworthy allies. By a fortunate coincidence, I encountered him. In his grace, he recognized in us valuable allies and in memory of Prince Helion, he promises us his protection against the other factions if we join his ranks."
The announcement sparked murmurs.
To remain alone was to expose themselves to every faction. To join Leonidas was to gain his protection and that of the duchies backing him.
"And if he takes the throne, what reward would he offer us in return for our allegiance?" one of the counts asked.
The question immediately drew widespread interest.
Vratos or rather Zero, who had planned everything had his answer ready.
"Those who demonstrate exemplary loyalty will not remain as they are today. They will be generously rewarded."
The assembly seemed almost dreamy. Even Vratos had to restrain his joy at the sight.
("Everything is unfolding exactly as planned.")
The voices grew increasingly favorable. But as he swept his gaze across the room, Vratos noticed that one person had remained perfectly unmoved from the beginning no reaction, no whisper, not the slightest visible expression.
It bruised his ego. Yet remembering the man’s reputation and Zero’s words about him, he deemed it wiser to extend a hand rather than ignore him.
"Marquis Mephisto. You have remained silent throughout this meeting. I would be disheartened to believe that you oppose the opinion of this assembly."
The name had an immediate effect. All eyes converged on him.
"Marquis Mephisto..."
"What does he think?"
"Which side will he take?"
It was true that until now, Mephisto had joined no faction though several did not hide their desire to have him at their side.
"Ineptitude and delusion."
Two words. A cold tone. The entire assembly was stunned.
Vratos was the most affected, his limbs tensing as he struggled to contain a sudden surge of anger.
"What do you mean by that?" asked another marquis the host of the gathering who, despite his surprise, held too much respect for Mephisto’s intellect to dismiss his words outright.
Mephisto’s eyes slowly swept across the room before he spoke.
"Loyalty and allegiance are not objects to be passed from one hand to another."
His voice was even neither disdainful nor theatrical. That made it sharper than any insult.
"Some of you sang Prince Helion’s praises while he lived, mocking his rivals to please him. And now, with his body barely cold, you are preparing to swear allegiance to the first man who promises you a reward."
He let the silence do its work.
"If nobles of your rank still fail to grasp such elementary notions, then in my eyes, you are no better than larvae."
That was too much for Vratos.
"How dare you?" he roared.
Mephisto did not grant him even a glance, continuing as though he had not been interrupted.
"My loyalty belongs to His Majesty the King, and to the one He deems worthy to succeed him. My allegiance belongs to the Kingdom."
He swept the assembly one final time with his gaze.
"Instead of siding with whoever offers you the most immediate advantages, look beyond your stomachs. Otherwise, you will be swallowed before you even understand how."
With those words, he rose to take his leave.
Vratos, feeling personally humiliated, could no longer restrain himself.
"Do not think you will leave this room unscathed after uttering such words."
The ether in the room seemed to stir in response a subtle yet real pressure, as though the very air itself were taking sides. The gathered nobles held their breath, none daring to intervene.
Mephisto turned back.
"Who would stop me?" he said simply, his eyes locked onto Vratos’s.
Two Authorities clashed in silence.
The ether of the room vibrated, uncertain which to obey. A dull tremor ran through the walls. The air shifted in short, dry bursts.
"Enough."
The host’s voice the marquis who owned the estate cracked with a firmness that allowed no reply.
"You are in my home. I will not tolerate such an affront under my roof."
Mephisto and Vratos exchanged one last glance brief, heavy, conclusive.
The setting was not appropriate.
This was merely postponed.
Mephisto turned away without another word and left the hall. Behind him, the silence he left was of a different nature from the one that had preceded his speech.
Vratos, meanwhile, remained still, his limbs still tense, his gaze fixed on the place where Mephisto had just departed.
("That bastard.")
