Renaissance Palace was the same as before.
Gloomy and cold, silent and desolate.
Plod plod plod.
Thales trailed behind the Chief of Palace Administration, Baron Quentin. Listening to his own footsteps, he once again felt that stifling sensation.
That was a darkness that even the Everlasting Lamp could not illuminate.
Behind the duke, Mallos was composed as usual. In actuality, many guards escorted Thales to the palace, but only Mallos was allowed to enter with him.
This was not a good sign.
But unlike the treatment he previously received (the silent attention fest), everyone along the way—whether guard, servant, noble or vassal—were fastidious in their greetings. They saluted him respectfully and addressed him as ‘Your Highness’ with a solemn expression.
The reason for this was unclear.
So how high a price would he have to pay for his decision last night?
Thales felt uneasy.
When the Chief of Palace Administration in front of him gave a slight cough, the prince instinctively opened his shoulders and stood upright, exhibiting perfect posture.
They did not head towards the meeting hall from his previous visit. Instead, after weaving through half a dozen hallways, they arrived at a higher floor.
The walls of the corridors on this floor were filled with portraits of kings of past generations from various eras. Thales was fascinated:
Son of the King of Renaissance, the person who forged the Nine-Pointed Star royal crown, John the First looked exuberant. Although nicknamed ‘Black Eye’, he had a pair of clear and captivating blue eyes, and was charmingly handsome.
Renowned for his martial art prowess, the person who decisively conquered Blade Edge Hill, ‘King of Blades’ Tormond the Second had left a seated portrait, concealing his well-documented short-stature (a fact he tried to erase from the history books but to no avail).
The person with the most controversial claim to the throne, having seized it through a coup d’état, ‘the Cutter’ Tormond the Fourth had a ruthless expression and a treacherous gaze. The artist successfully used light and shadow to make his face look sinister and mysterious, making the viewer uncomfortable.
Sumer the Third looked modest and reliable. With his meticulously groomed stubble, he would definitely have been an appealing middle-aged man coveted by many in another world. It was hard to believe that this was the ‘Jackal’ of Constellation that was infamous for being sly and menacing.
‘King of Regret’ Bancroft the Second—who had passed away on the second day of assuming formal control of his government upon attaining adulthood, which was also the day before his wedding—looked sickly and drained, much befitting his moniker.
Interested only in the high life since childhood, indifferent towards political struggles, filthy rich and worry-free from eight marriages, ‘the King who Survived’ Alan the Fourth looked terrified and flustered at his coronation. This was probably because, when he was 55, he was informed that he had to change his name back to Jadestar, succeed the throne, and transfer his huge sum of assets (inherited from his seven ex-wives) to the royal family.
‘Conqueror of the North’ Queen Erica was shrouded in a puffy, stately dress, presenting a majestic and imposing aura. No traces of feminine characteristics could be gleaned from the portrait, let alone ‘the unparalleled beauty and ravishing looks that captivated nations’ nor ‘youthful appearance in her sixties that could hold a candle to twenty-year-olds’ of legends.
‘Sand King’ Kessel the Fourth, with his head raised and looking into the distance, seemed august and bright. Unfortunately, this could not hide the mediocrity and cowardice that came to be associated with him and his moniker:
After being defeated in battle during his expedition to the Great Desert, the petrified king abandoned his army and, swift as lightning, buried himself in the sand as camouflage. He managed to survive the ordeal, but left behind the famous saying “invisibility equals invincibility” as his legacy.
The three massive portraits combined with historical backgrounds in Mindis Hall were undoubtedly more impressive, but each portrait in this corridor was unique in their own way, vividly reflecting the techniques and habits of different painters, as well as the artistic styles of different periods.
But…
Thales silently looked at the portraits, and had a strange thought.
Whether these court portraits, or the legendary Three Kings portraits in Mindis Hall, all the people in these paintings seemed…
Insincere.
Finally, they stopped in front of a heavily-guarded stone chamber. The chief commander of the royal guards, Lord Adrian, appeared before them, genial but no less dignified.
“Baron Quentin,” Lord Adrian greeted the Chief of Palace Administration who had led the way, “All is well?”
The Chief of Palace Administration waved a hand and seemed indifferent.
“Yes, yes. Now please forgive me, I have to take my leave. I need to go pay Master Damon his tailoring fees.”
Baron Quentin’s attitude was hasty, and there was some resentment in between the lines. “I have to supervise the procurement of royal wine glasses. You know—wi-ne-gla-sses! It’s a huge expense, I can’t afford to be negligent!”
Wine glasses.
Thales stood behind him with a frozen expression.
Captain Adrian merely grinned.
Thales finally sighed and apologized sincerely, “My Lord, I’m sorry.”
Baron Quentin turned around, stared and scoffed, “Oh, Your Highness, you better be!”
The Chief of Palace Administration threw courtesy out the window, raised his voice and chided animatedly and righteously, “For your ancestors’ sakes, do you think the royal family fortune fell from the sky? It’s the blood, sweat and tears of the people, we can’t be squandering it!”
With one last glare, Baron Quentin stormed off.
Leaving behind a frightened, slouching Thales.
“Please understand, Baron Quentin has been managing palace affairs for thirty years. He’s practical and meticulous, but can be stubborn,” Adrian explained with a smile, “In the past, when he flared up, even His Majesty King Aydi had to concede to an extent.”
Thales forced an understanding smile in response.
“Your Highness, Lord Mallos,” Adrian officially addressed the two of them, ” Welcome to the Imperial Conference Room.”
The guard captain turned around and raised his palm, presenting a 12-foot tall stone door to Thales. “Also known as ‘Ballard Room’.”
Under the dim light from the narrow stone windows in the distance and the illumination of two Everlasting Lamps, at least a dozen royal guards stood guard on both sides of the dull stone door, all with solemn expressions on their faces.
“Ballard?”
Thales squinted to appraise this special stone door, and strived to recall the royal family lineage that he had been cramming for the past few days. “You mean ‘the Believer’, Ballard the First, from the third century of the Calendar of Eradication?”
Adrian smiled.
“The very same.
“Four hundred years ago, ‘Great Spirit’ Kahn led the nefarious ‘radical soldiers’ and invaded the kingdom, like a surging tide that swept through the lands, until they reached Eternal Star City. This coincided with King Ballard’s rule,” the guard captain lamented as he looked at the stone door.
Thales pondered for a while. “I have heard of this tale in the North. Archduke Kahn Trentida of Eckstedt and his ‘Great Spirit Conquest’. The Northland nobles are still proud of it to this day.
“So, Ballard Room. Does that mean King Ballard was born here? Or was this where his coronation was held?”
Captain Adrian scoffed softly and shook his head. “When the city was under siege and the country was on the verge of ruins, Ballard the First summoned all valiant officials into the palace, gathered them in a room, and—regardless of their ranks and family backgrounds—granted them seats at the long table to formulate a strategy to protect the kingdom.
Adrian seemed somewhat emotional. “That was the first Imperial Conference in the history of the kingdom. It was held regularly afterwards to deal with state affairs and was gradually institutionalized and passed on for 400 years.
“That was how ‘Ballard Room’ came to be.”
Thales was deep in thought and did not say anything.
The guard captain suddenly became aware of his lapse in composure. He laughed at himself and stepped aside.
“His Majesty is in the middle of an Imperial Conference with a few ministers. Please enter, Your Highness.”
Thales frowned. “Imperial Conference? Now?
“Maybe I should wait until…”
But Lord Adrian interjected, “His Majesty has requested your presence, Your Highness. And you are the Duke of Star Lake of the kingdom,” the guard captain’s tone was polite, but had a different kind of intensity, “Please pay attention to etiquette when responding to His Majesty in court.
“No need to be too ‘Northland’,” Adrian added softly.
Thales raised his eyebrows.
After he finished briefing the prince, Adrian walked towards a subordinate guard at the door. “Open the door, Marigo. Softly.”
Thales took the opportunity to straighten his clothes then looked over his shoulder and quietly asked Mallos behind him, “Any suggestions?”
Inexplicably, the Mallos standing in front of Ballard Room had a blank expression.
“Yes.”
His reply was calm as ever. “Don’t ask me.”
Thales turned back around bitterly.
‘Fine.
‘He really deserves to be the most hated personal guard captain.
‘This suggestion was honest and on point, simply too useful,’ Thales thought sarcastically.
But he thought about the court portraits that he walked past earlier and realized he had no recollection of seeing Ballard the First.
Either he missed it, or it was placed in an inconspicuous corner.
“Elainor,” amid the soft creak of the stone door slowly opening, Thales muttered without moving his lips.
Behind him, Mallos frowned and took a step forward. “What?”
Thales looked at the stone door that was gradually opening wider and the murkiness that seeped from the cracks, then scoffed, “Four hundred years ago, when King Ballard succeeded the throne from his elder brother, he was only seventeen. In the face of crisis, he struggled to control his vassals and did not have the trust of the people.”
The prince narrowed his eyes.
“The person who had the real authority to make an exception to hold an Imperial Conference and strategize against ‘the Great Spirit Conquest’, was a woman.”
Thales turned around and smiled at Mallos. “Yes. Empress Dowager Iron Spike, Elainor.”
Mallos frowned.
“And this place, should actually be called ‘Elainor Room’.”
In the next instant, Thales turned back around and—under the respectful gaze of the guards—strode through the stone door into the darkness.
Calmly.
Confidently.
With a soft thud, the stone door closed shut, blocking the Duke of Star Lake’s figure from sight.
Looking at the serene stone door, Mallos whispered through pursed lips, “Is that so?”
Outside the stone door, Adrian approached Mallos and tapped his shoulder.
The watchman nodded. “About last night, is there anything I should be worried about?
“Like how the assassin managed to smuggle a weapon into the king’s banquet?”
Adrian smiled. “No.”
Mallos furrowed his brows.
But before he could process his thoughts, the guard captain grabbed him by the shoulders and, half dragging, half shoving, led him away from Ballard Room.
“So, how is Mindis Hall, Tormond?” the guard captain amicably asked the kin who he watched grow up, as if having a chat with a family member, “Compared to this place?”
Mallos became indifferent again. “Pretty good, quite bright and spacious.”
Adrian nodded.
“Not bad.” There was a gleam in the guard captain’s eyes. “Just bright and spacious?”
“It’s too soon to tell,” Mallos’ tone was flat, “I’ll tell you once I properly settle in.”
Adrian chuckled. He let go of Mallos.
“When are you going to give yourself a day off?”
The old captain put his hands on his hips. “You know, my wife has made the acquaintances of a few decent unmarried ladies recently. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind…”
But Mallos cut him short, “Captain.”
He did not go on, but merely remained expressionless.
Adrian stared at him for a while before nodding.
“His Highness will take a while,” this guard captain said casually, “Old rules, wait in the watch room.”
Mallos stopped in his tracks.
Lord Adrian smiled at him. “You know, paperwork.”
Mallos paused for a second.
“Of course.” The watchman curved his lips into a smile. “Paperwork.”
————
Thales walked into the Imperial Conference Room. It was smaller than he imagined (compared to, say, the Hall of Stars and other meeting halls, as well as the Jadestar family tomb). The domed ceiling hung low and the space was narrow, and he could easily see the other end of the room. It inherited the frigidity and gloom unique to the halls and rooms of Renaissance Palace.
‘Feels like a tiny dungeon,’ Thales grumbled to himself.
Under the glow of an Everlasting Lamp, he saw a number of people seated around a long table at the far end and heard faint voices.
Thales took a deep breath and gradually strode forward, trying not to think about an upsetting future.
As he approached, the voices around the long table hushed. Most of them looked over at the newcomer at the Imperial Conference.
Thales noticed that the people seated around the long table were not any ordinary people:
The pudgy prime minister of the kingdom, Guardian Duke of the Eastern Sea, Bob Cullen was still all smiles, as if everything was well and good.
The Foreign Affairs Minister cum tutor, ‘Cunning Fox’ Gilbert, with whom Thales was familiar, looked worried and was hesitating to speak his mind.
There was also the seasoned royal family military advisor, ‘Big Soldier’ Solder Ryder and the kingdom’s Chief of Finance, ‘Wallet’ Kirkirk Mann, who is said to be able to “pull money out from the crotch of his trousers”.
‘Sharp-faced’ Viscount Kenney, who once visited the prince in Eckstedt, and was recently promoted as the Minister of Trade in the beginning of the year, was also among the seated. He was smiling amiably at Thales. The Minister of Agriculture, ‘Miser’ Lord Krapen was dozing off. Vicar General of the Sunset Temple Central Diocese and Special Advisor on Faith, Stylia Nydis, who almost became Thales’ theology tutor, was also present.
Thales also noticed someone standing at the lower end of the long table, a distance away from the officials. His face was heavily scarred and he looked vicious. He shot a sinister, piercing look at Thales.
The prince wondered, ‘Who is that? Why is he the only person standing?’
Kessel the Fifth—the master of this room, whose presence was most significant—sat at the main end of the long table. Seated in a relaxed posture, he alone enjoyed the light from the stone window behind him. As a result of being backlit, the features of his face were unclear; only an imposing dark outline could be seen.
Somewhat apprehensive, Thales gulped and respectfully approached the long table.
“Father.”
He bowed gracefully. “Good day, ministers.”
Gilbert was the first to stand up and greeted in response, “Good day, Duke Thales.”
Everyone seated in front of the king followed suit by standing up and greeting the prince one after another.
But the king immediately interrupted this potentially meaningful exchange of greetings by directing, “Find yourself a chair.”
The officials fell silent.
They looked at Thales before turning to the king. Finally, they abandoned the greetings and sat back down.
Considerately, Gilbert moved to an empty seat next to his own and offered the now-empty seat to Thales.
Thales nodded in gratitude, took the seat and acknowledged Vicar General Stylia Nydis who was also seated next him. He thought to himself that this wasn’t too bad.
At least they had reserved a seat for him.
At least they did not cut straight to interrogations and faultfinding.
At least they did not casually chuck a sword over and ask him to cut open his own throat.
The backlit man seated at the head of the table switched his supporting arm, rapped the long table, and instructed in a passive tone, “Continue what you were saying, Solder.”
These words were like sudden frost; the somber atmosphere that thawed slightly from the arrival of the prince froze again.
Military Advisor Solder Ryder cleared his throat and stood up. The Imperial Conference resumed.
“In any case, the decision by the Alliance of Freedom to secretly withdraw their main force of elites from Fort Liberté beforehand and lie in wait outside the city was a bold one.” Dressed in his full military uniform, Solder rapped the table, unfolded a large map and placed black and white chess pieces on it. “If Fort Liberté had fallen from poor defense due to a lack of troops, that would have been the end of the war.”
With a serious expression, Solder reached a hand out towards the castle pictogram marked ‘Fort Liberté’, picked a knight out from the three to four black chess pieces within its walls, and placed it outside of the map.
Only then did Thales realize that the subject of this Imperial Conference wasn’t him, or at least it wasn’t the assassination last night.
But instead…
“Advisor Solder has just returned from the Western Desert with the regular troops,” Gilbert whispered in the prince’s ear, “to obtain first-hand information about the war in Eckstedt sooner.”
War in Eckstedt.
The prince felt a tightness in his chest—this was a feeling he had never experienced before prior to entering Ballard Room.
Thales frowned as he recognized the contents of the map on the long table: on one side was Fort Liberté and on the other was the City of Faraway Prayers, separated by countless hills, rivers, villages and castles in between.
A dozen white chess pieces, which set off from the City of Faraway Prayers in a grand procession, occupied most of the major crossroads on the map.
Their strength was formidable, in contrast with Fort Liberté, which seemed isolated and helpless with only two to three black chess pieces left inside.
Like trapped rats.
Thales directed his gaze at the dozen white chess pieces. Among them were his friends.
“But the repeated victories of the Northlanders prior to this have bolstered their arrogance.
“They expected their opponent to use their geographical advantage and defend their fortifications thoroughly, as they did twenty years ago. So they left only scattered forces behind to defend the rear, and sent their main and elite forces marching directly towards Fort Liberté, the most critical and most fortified base of their opponent.”
Solder’s tone was solemn. He moved the dozen chess pieces forward along the track until they surrounded Fort Liberté on three sides, leaving a suspicious gap on one side.
Like laying a trap for rats.
“What’s more, they did not bother to spend much time nor effort to confirm whether there was anything suspicious about the territories that they had easily conquered behind them, confirm whether the true main force was hidden amongst the sparse enemies that had fled along the way.”
With a somber expression, the chief military advisor caressed the scattered few white chess pieces, which contrasted with the absolute advantage of the Eckstedtian military forces on the map.
The king did not speak.
Gilbert sighed and interjected, “After all, the strength of the Eckstedtian infantry and their ability to break through enemy formations are unparalleled.
“Without a strong fortification and armored horses to fall back on, who would dare face them head on in the open plains?”
Thales recalled the brave and selfless soldiers from Black Sand Region who were willing to sacrifice themselves at Broken Dragon Fortress.
Solder nodded, but scoffed, “That was their first mistake.”
There was an air of austerity to these words that tugged at everyone’s hearts.
Solder looked up. “News from the Secret Intelligence Department?”
Everyone turned their attention to the man who had been standing silently at the other end of the table. The scar-faced man stepped forward.
Thales realized then that he was a spy from the Secret Intelligence Department.
“As corroborated by the information from various sources at the frontline,” In front of all the high-ranked officials, the scar-faced man took out a stack of paper and spoke in a fluent and calm manner, “When Northlanders were fiercely invading the fort, the unit that the Alliance of Freedom had secretly withdrawn and was lying in wait outside the fort daringly ambushed them from behind.”
His continued chillingly, “Within a week, the Eckstedtian supply points along Good Flow River were under pressure and transportation efficiency decreased greatly.”
As the man spoke, Solder Ryder calmly moved the black knight chess piece from outside the map back into the battlefield and placed it behind the white troops.
“Maybe my memory isn’t what it used to be…” With an affable look on his face, Prime Minister Cullen adjusted his belly and said doubtingly, “But this strategy sounds a bit familiar.”
Upon hearing this remark, everyone’s expression changed.
Solder nodded but did not respond directly. Instead he indicated for the intelligence agent to continue.
The scar-faced man coughed and switched to another piece of paper.
“In the short span of a week, unstable supplies affected the heavy swordsmen and heavy-armor axemen that Northlanders are so proud of and relied on to besiege the fort. They attempted to besiege the fort a few times. Every time when they thought they were about to succeed, their efforts eventually failed.
“Their cavalry was valiant but could not find sufficient grain and supplies within the territory of the Alliance of Freedom due to the fact that the Alliance had fortified their defenses and razed the fields in anticipation of their arrival. All they could do was stay garrisoned where they were and await the outcome of the sieges.”
There was silence around the long table. The king remained motionless.
Gilbert was the first to break the silence. “So Eckstedt just lost? Just like that?
“Surely not?”
Solder Ryder snorted. He stared at the large number of white chess pieces on the map, looking reverent. “Of course not.”
The military advisor looked towards the intelligence agent.
The scar-faced man went on calmly, “Based on our intel, in the first few weeks after the supply points were attacked, the Eckstedtians continued to maintain more than 90% of their military strength, enough to decisively prevail in multiple on-field battles and sieges. It was far beyond what the Alliance of Freedom would have been able to withstand.”
Then his tone changed. “But it was then that the Eckstedtian military commanders formed divergent opinions on what to do next.”
“Divergent opinions…” Gilbert muttered.
Divergent opinions.
Thales recalled the intel that Gilbert conveyed to him last night and started to feel concerned.
Solder Ryder was still solemn as he nodded. “The City of Faraway Prayers advocated strongly to push the entire army forward to achieve ultimate victory.
“Defence City wanted to reorganize the battle lines and slowly chip away at the enemy forces.
Solder’s expression turned grave. “The military commander of Dragon Clouds City, one-armed Karkogel proposed to seal off key routes and surround the fort but not invade. At the same time, a small number of personnel would be deployed to form a rare, elite and flexible special tactical squad, to track down and eliminate the last remaining trump card of the Alliance of Freedom in the fields, giving the enemy a taste of their own medicine.
“Once successful, they could just throw the enemy commander’s head into Fort Liberté. The city would naturally yield without siege and everything would be solved.”
Hearing the familiar name, Thales recalled the reserved but decisive one-armed duke at the council hearing.
But that did not align with what the others thought.
“Ah, Karkogel, that one-armed bastard. I remember him.”
The Minister of Agriculture of the kingdom who had been dozing off, Lord Krapen, nicknamed ‘Miser’, startled and recounted with trepidation, “It was under his command 18 years ago that the Northland barbarians advanced and seized Cold Castle by surrounding it and cutting off its reinforcements, resulting in the cession of the Northern Territory.
“Sure enough, his strategies are the most fiendish.”
Prime Minister Cullen scratched his head and queried, “So which of the three options is the best?”
Everyone was silent for a moment.
“In my opinion, it’s to wear the enemy out little by little until they surrender.” In his prime, the Minister of Trade, Viscount Kenney had a different thinking. “When betting a huge sum on small gains, the worst mistake would be to aim for fast returns. Since the Alliance of Freedom is as good as trapped, there is no point in taking such risks.”
But the elderly Chief of Finance, Kirkirk Mann shook his head and disapproved, “No no no, the biggest strength of Northlanders lies in their ability to strike hard and fast, overwhelming their opponent.
“Moreover, to deploy troops for a long period of time, the strain and expenditure… Trust me, the sooner the war ends, the better. The most beneficial option is to get it over with once and for all.”
Compared to them, however, Thales noticed that:
Gilbert was frowning and said nothing.
In that moment, the king looked up. His keen gaze was noticeable on the dark outline of his face. “Solder, what do you think?”
Everyone focused their attention on the military advisor in unison.
Solder did not answer immediately. He was solemn as ever as he traced a finger from one corner of the map to another, as if virtually engaging with those in the battlefield.
“When it comes to wars, the Northlanders have always been decisive and unrelenting.”
Solder looked at the large number of white chess pieces with a growing look of dread. “What’s more, they hold every advantage and have the upper-hand.
“I think that, as soon as they were attacked from the rear, they saw through the tactics of the Alliance of Freedom. They knew that their opponent was taking risks in dispersing their forces and saw their myriad flaws.”
Bam!
‘Big Soldier’ slammed a fist on the table.
With a wave of his hand, he shoved a large number of white chess pieces into Fort Liberté, and toppled all the black chess pieces in the castle. “If they attack in full force and disregard the number of potential casualties, the Alliance of Freedom would not be able to stop them.”
Next, Solder distributed the white chess pieces evenly on the major crossroads on the map, until the black knight that was behind them had nowhere to go, and eventually toppled over. “If they strengthen their defended territories and conquer steadily, the Alliance of Freedom would not be able to hold out against them.”
Finally, the military advisor gently made a fist and slowly restored the chess pieces to their initial positions. He proceeded to place two white knights with the black knight, then topple the latter. “If they devise a plan to attack the enemy’s core and launch a surprise attack, the Alliance of Freedom would not be able to defend against them.”
Solder took a deep breath, looked up and glanced at everyone. His gaze paused at Thales briefly before moving on.
“Whether it’s attacking by force, playing the long game or launching a surprise attack, all three are good strategies.”
Thales nodded slowly. He cast a sideways glance at Viscount Kenney and Kirkirk Mann to discover that both were nodding in satisfaction.
‘Yes. These words were tactful enough to avoid offending anyone.’
But the military advisor’s tone took a swift turn. “However, when three great options are put together…” He sounded enraged.
He nodded at the scar-faced man from the Secret Intelligence Department. The latter cleared his throat and said, “We have limited intel on what was specifically decided in the Eckstedt military tent.
“But after besieging the fort for a long period of time, the Northerners who grew impatient finally decided to divide and conquer by attacking the enemy on three fronts.”
As soon as he said this, almost everyone at the Imperial Conference were shocked.
Even Thales could not help but frown.
Only Gilbert sighed.
“They divided their forces? Or did they attack on three fronts?” Viscount Kenney was confounded and apparently did not follow. “The Alliance of Freedom is a small nation with few citizens, and their birthrate is appallingly low. It is understandable that they chose to take risks by dividing their forces. But the Northlanders have a large army and the upper-hand… Have they gone mad?”
Amid a flurry of questions, Solder Ryder groaned in anger.
“The reasons given by the commanders to their subordinates were: One, to relieve the logistical pressures brought about by the concentration of a large army in one spot and to be able to reasonably allocate provisions for the overall offensive. Two, to protect the jittery rear supply line. Three, to pursue and attack the shadow squad that was attacking them from the rear. And finally, to expand and consolidate the occupied areas to facilitate the collection of rations.”
Thales was stunned.
‘Fine.
‘Every reason was justified and well-grounded. Well thought out, even. Irrefutable.
“It covered the forceful attack, long game and surprise attack mentioned earlier.
‘But…’
Solder sneered, “Even children know you can only pick one thing when given a list of options,” he glared at the white chess pieces on the map and reached a hand out to divide them into three sets, “As adults, they want everything?”
In that moment, the military advisor was torn. One the one hand, he was disdainful. On the other, his words were filled with bitter grief for his peers. “Utter foolishness.
“They don’t deserve to be pitied.”
Amid the shocked officials, Thales stared at one of the three sets of white chess pieces with mixed emotions.
There was no one here that had spent such a long time in the North and had such close contact with Northlanders like him.
Divergent opinions—he vaguely knew the answer behind it.
But that made him even more anxious and terrified.
‘Was it really?’
