Chapter 887: 887
However, to maintain absolute transparency and sincerity, Wulv pulled no punches about the dangers involved. He openly declared that the Silver Kingdom was currently locked in a brutal war against the people of Björn. Therefore, anyone who volunteered risked being dragged into the meat grinder of the frontlines, forced to fight alongside and for the kingdom that would soon become their princess’s new home.
Furthermore, he laid down a cold, unyielding ultimatum for those brave enough to step forward. Anyone who chose to walk this path after knowing the risks had to understand that the Wolflings Kingdom would take no responsibility for their lives or losses once they crossed the border. While the gates of their homeland would always remain open for them to return, the kingdom itself would remain strictly neutral. Not a single royal soldier, resource, or official reinforcement would be sent to support the Silver Kingdom in its ongoing war.
This absolute boundary was a calculated decree, established by the royal family and the high council and it was a condition that Princess Lunara herself had explicitly agreed to before the throne and ruling classes in the kingdom.
When Wulv’s proclamation echoed across the land, a heavy, suffocating silence initially fell over the people. The weight of his ultimatum was absolute, to step forward meant stripping oneself of the kingdom’s official protection and walking directly into a human meat grinder.
For the elder wolves, the decision was a simple one, fueled by disgust. To them, the decree was pure madness. Why should divine-blooded wolves cross the continent to bleed for a fragile mortal prince? Why throw their lives away against the blood-crazed followers of Björn without the backing of their own throne? Many turned their backs in cold disdain, muttering that the princess had finally lost her mind, and any who followed her were fools marching into an unmarked grave.
Yet, beneath the scorn of the elders, Wulv’s words had struck a powerful chord with a different breed of wolf.
First to break the ranks were Lunara’s sworn loyalists. These were the seasoned guards and retainers who had watched her grow, bound by oaths of blood that outmatched any political treaty. To them, letting their princess walk into the perilous southern continent alone, surrounded by strangers, was a far greater dishonor than dying in a foreign war.
Then came the young bloods. For generations, the northern plains had been a place of rigid hierarchy and stagnant peace. Ambitious, restless youths saw the draft exactly as Wulv had framed it, an escape. The mortal lands offered uncharted territory, a chance to carve out their own domains, and the freedom to govern themselves under Lunara’s new banner rather than waiting to inherit already built inheritance and peace.
Finally, there were the battle-hungry. The legendary ferocity of the Björn was known even here. For those warriors who felt their claws dulling in the quiet snow, the promise of the ultimate hunt, testing their might against a divine-fueled horde was an intoxicating lure they could not resist.
By the time the drafting period closed, thousands of wolves stood shoulder-to-shoulder in the biting cold. As they stepped forward, they symbolically lowered their traditional clan banners, raising instead the personal crest of Princess Lunara. They were no longer the soldiers of the Werewolf Goldings Kingdom, they were now the Princess’s own fangs, ready to descend upon who ever she points the blade at.
The wedding of Princess Lunara was a grandiose spectacle that transcended the simple unions of the mortal realm. It was an event of such monumental significance that, on the day it took place, the war on the northern front fell silent. For a single day, the people of Björn halted their relentless advance, and the vanguard of the Silver Kingdom lowered their weapons, granting a temporary truce in honor of the the princess and the godlings.
As the ceremony began, the sky itself was blotted out. Five magnificent, ancient dragons descended from the clouds, their massive shadows sweeping over the frostbitten plains to make their presence known. Their arrival was a thunderous declaration of Lunara’s heritage, a stark reminder to all who witnessed it of her extraordinary background and divine bloodline.
They were not the only extraordinary guests. Throughout the day, godlings from different continents touched down upon the silver kingdom. For the mortals of the Silver Kingdom, the terrifying reality of the war was completely forgotten. They stood amidst the assembly of legends with their chests out and heads held high, swelling with an unprecedented sense of pride. No mortal kingdom in all of Nana had ever been bestowed such an immense honor, to serve as the nexus where so many extraordinary, powerful presences gathered in harmony.
Even the rulers of Björn recognized the gravity of the occasion, as they sent their own high-ranking representatives to the court. These delegates marched past their mortal enemies, completely unarmed, bearing lavish, rare gifts for the princess to honor her ascension into marriage.
It was a truly breathtaking ceremony, held under the protective gaze of the moon goddess Mahu and her son, Maul. Maul from his realm watched his daughter with a loving look upon his face. Though he deeply disagreed with her choices and the mortal path she had chosen to walk, seeing the radiant happiness on her fac and the legendary figures gathered in her honor filled the father’s heart with undeniable pride.
From across the grand hall, Ragnar looked upon Lunara as if she were a priceless, irreplaceable treasure. In his eyes, she was the sole reason the Silver Kingdom was basking in such unprecedented glory today. She was the reason he could feel the burning, anxious eyes of the Björn representatives tracking his every single movement.
Ragnar capitalized on every second of it. With every hand he shook and every representative from another continent he laughed and conversed with, he could see the Björn delegates growing more visibly uncomfortable. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that once this wedding was concluded, the entire landscape of the battlefield would shift.
Even if he failed to secure a single concrete alliance from the guests at this wedding, the mere illusion of power was a weapon in itself. The outward appearance that the Silver Kingdom now possessed connections across the continents was a brilliant psychological countermeasure. It was more than enough to make Yuki and her people think twice before ordering their next frantic assault.
Ragnar wasn’t the only one calculating the long-term impact of the spectacle, Lunara herself, the radiant focal point of the entire event, harbored the exact same thoughts. This awe-inspiring display of power and prestige was precisely what she had set out to achieve. She knew that words alone held no weight in the current war state, only a sight as terrifyingly grand as this could guarantee that the bloodthirsty leaders of Björn would actually sit down and listen to her request for peace.
Though the wedding ceremony itself lasted only a single, glorious day, its profound impact completely paralyzed the gears of war. The expected truce didn’t break when the music faded, instead, the profound shockwave of the gathering forced a whole week of absolute peace upon both sides of the northern front. For seven days, the border wall stood silent, untainted by fresh blood.
But the fragile peace could not hold forever. When the gears of conflict finally kickstarted once more, it was not the hordes of Björn that shattered the silence. This time, the opening salvo was fired by the people of the Silver Kingdom, eager to strike while their enemy was still off-balance from the princess’s grand display.
Deep within the palace of the capital city of Björn, Leiko quietly entered his mother’s private chambers. He found Yuki standing rigid before a massive tactical map of the continent, her brows knitted into a heavy, dark frown as she stared at the shifting frontlines.
Sensing his entrance, she looked up, her expression tightening further into a glare.
Leiko offered a calm, knowing smile. "Are you still angry about our last talk?"
Yuki didn’t offer a word in response, her silence and gaze cold. Undeterred, Leiko stepped closer, his voice dropping to a slight whisper as he leaned toward the map. "The current situation has proven that I wasn’t wrong."
As Yuki’s glare sharpened, he shifted back a step, raising his hands in a gesture of mock defeat. "I might have been wrong to hide it from you for so long," he admitted, a trace of defiance lingering in his tone, "but your current reaction only makes me think that I did the right thing."
He felt a sudden, suffocating wave of power ripple outward from his mother. With effortless precision, Yuki took subtle control over the surrounding space, weaving an absolute boundary around them to ensure that every word spoken and action taken remained hidden from those who might be peeping.
The moment the barrier sealed, her rigid composure finally slipped, exposing the raw, burning fury beneath. "You think yourself right?" she hissed, her voice trembling with suppressed rage. "You think yourself right by hiding the fact that you were secretly dealing with him?"
