Chapter 498: Bruno's Dissatisfaction and Expectations

With the fall of the Watchtower, a deluge of post-war administrative duties inevitably followed.

There were prisoners to be guarded, civilians to be pacified, spoils to be plundered, and corpses to be disposed of, among countless other tasks.

Fortunately, Placido had shown an inclination to surrender; with the assistance of several knights under his command, maintaining a semblance of stability remained within the realm of possibility.

By afternoon, having resolved the skirmish over at Melonica, Rhonin returned to the keep's grand hall within the Watchtower and met with Placido.

As a viscount of the Empire who was now preparing to surrender to Rhonin, the man would naturally forfeit his noble title, and would likely lose a portion of his authority and lands as consequence.

Generally speaking, however, a surrendering noble could still retain a certain degree of status and property through careful negotiation.

Thus, these were precisely the matters that Rhonin and Placido were currently deliberating.

First and foremost, Rhonin had no intention of directly conferring a peerage upon him; after all, as a capitulating general who had yet to earn a single merit, a title of nobility was unbefitting.

Furthermore, whether the man chose to surrender voluntarily or not, Rhonin could have easily occupied the Watchtower with minimal casualties.

Surrender, in itself, was no meritorious service.

To this, Placido knew he had no grounds for rebuttal, and could only seek compensation through the avenues of land, authority, and wealth.

On these points, Rhonin was open-minded.

Should Bruno later assign the Watchtower as Rhonin’s personal fief, Rhonin would appoint Placido as its governor; though devoid of a noble title, he would remain the administrator of this domain.

Of course, if Bruno failed to grant him the Watchtower, Rhonin also promised to arrange a town for Placido, allowing him to serve as governor there instead.

As for wealth, aside from the fifty percent surrendered to the treasury, Rhonin left the remaining half largely untouched.

Finally, there was the matter of land.

Whether Placido remained at the Watchtower or relocated to a small town in Moonlight Valley, Rhonin would only grant him a portion of land commensurate with his strength and status, rather than relinquishing an entire territory to him.

Control over the land had to remain firmly in Rhonin's hands; only then could he maintain overall governance and prepare for the subsequent implementation of the agrarian policies he had established back in Mountain Wood Town.

The negotiations did not endure for long; though Placido had been stripped of his skin, so to speak, he had at least preserved his life and secured the future of the Carmen family.

And Rhonin, in turn, had acquired a new subordinate.

In terms of sheer strength, Placido was now the most formidable asset under his command, surpassed only by Rydel, Maken, and Elrond.

There were, of course, Sophia and her four companions, but their relationship with Rhonin resembled a partnership rather than servitude.

Before long, a gryphon rider sent by Garrett arrived with orders, commanding them to arrive outside the Mist City before noon tomorrow.

"Garrett certainly is in a hurry."

Rhonin looked at the military order in his hand, a trace of surprise touching his features.

Though the concept of pressing an advantage home was familiar, a full-front mobilization required deliberate consideration; at the very least, one had to assess the condition of each house, their losses, and whether they could sustain further action.

An approach like Garrett's—issuing a new operational mandate immediately without offering a single moment’s respite—was a rare sight indeed.

"My Lord, what shall we do? Shall we proceed directly?" Rydel inquired.

Rhonin nodded. "Let us go. No matter what Count Ural of Mist City is plotting, we must investigate and find out."

The situation in Mist City was indeed peculiar; not only did Rhonin find it incomprehensible, but even Placido, who had dealt with Count Ural for many years, could not make sense of it.

Nevertheless, regardless of the enemy's designs, Rhonin intended to see it through.

Meanwhile, as a precaution, he had already dispatched Carlos to summon Sophia, Petro, and Elrond—who was far away in Swamp Town—anticipating their arrival by tonight at the latest.

Rhonin intended to have Sophia and Petro join the fray.

Though Elrond would also take to the battlefield, before doing so, he needed to utilize his status as a Grand Mage to guide the thirteen magicians of the Watchtower, for these men would eventually be transferred under Elrond's command.

The night grew deep.

Within the Golden Feather Palace, Mel, the minister responsible for intelligence and communications, hurried into Bruno's study.

At this hour, His Majesty the King sat languidly in a cushioned chair, draped in a nightgown.

"Mel, disturbing my rest at the Golden Feather Palace at such a late hour... has something occurred?"

Mel stepped forward with letters in hand, his face alive with smiles. "Triumphant news, Your Majesty! A great victory!"

Triumphant news?

Bruno jolted, the remnants of sleep instantly vanishing from his mind. "Has the border war begun?"

Though he had stated that the commencement of hostilities would be decided by Gushan and Rhonin, surely they should have sent him word before striking?

"Quickly, let me see!"

Bruno snatched the missives and scanned them rapidly.

There were two letters in total.

The first came from his eldest daughter, Sharon, the wife of Count Ibn.

She began by recounting how her husband had overcome a heavily fortified enemy stronghold, claiming credit for Ibn's military achievements, before mentioning the sweeping victory across the entire front, and finally praising her brother Garrett's command and decision-making as flawless.

The second letter was from Viscount Willis of Black Jade Bay, similarly celebrating the triumph, detailing the hardships and bitterness of the victory, and echoing the praises for Garrett.

Their purpose in writing was simple: to deliver glad tidings, to ensure the King recognized their loyalty and capability, and to pave the way for post-war rewards.

Yet, despite the joyful nature of the reports, Bruno’s expression darkened.

"What is the meaning of this? The vanguard commander is Garrett?" he demanded.

Mel froze, entirely unaware of the actual contents of Bruno's original decrees. "Is he not, Your Majesty?"

The words rose to Bruno's lips, but he swallowed them back.

Revealing the truth now would undoubtedly cast a severe, negative shadow over his son's reputation.

Yet, no matter the perspective, he had never imagined Garrett would openly defy his orders and alter his royal mandates.

"That boy!"

Bruno sighed heavily, thinking to himself: *Fortunately, this battle yielded a total victory. Once Mist City is taken, it will not be too late to reprimand him.*

He pondered in silence for a long moment before addressing Mel. "Go and draft congratulatory replies to each of them. You may determine the contents yourself."

Such letters followed standard templates and required little effort.

After Mel withdrew, Bruno ordered the guards to summon Broll to the palace overnight, while he began penning new letters to Rhonin, Ibn, Gushan, and the others.

Before long, Broll arrived in haste.

"Your Majesty, what are your commands for summoning me so late?"

Bruno handed him the sealed letters. "Deliver these to Rhonin at the front, and have him convey my decree—once Mist City is taken, no further advance into the Kingdom of Tricia is permitted. Furthermore, command Garrett to return to Golden Feather City to face me."

Pausing, he added another line: "If Garrett proves reluctant to return, tell Rhonin privately to find a way."

Broll harbored no doubts regarding the first directive, but the second left him utterly perplexed.

What crime had the Crown Prince committed to evoke such an unmistakable tone of displeasure from His Majesty?

For years, whenever Bruno spoke of his son Garrett, it was always with utmost satisfaction; when had such an occasion ever arisen?

"Go now. If possible, depart this very night."

"Understood!" Broll nodded solemnly.

For His Majesty to be in such haste, it appeared a matter of grave consequence had transpired.

When the room was finally left to Bruno alone, he let out a heavy sigh.

“That boy used to be merely proud and arrogant—still, at least he would listen to me. Now he dares defy my orders outright.”

He shook his head helplessly.

Bruno had always held great expectations for Garrett since childhood, nurturing him as his successor, even allowing him to preside over affairs and make decisions in certain matters.

But that did not mean Garrett could disregard Bruno’s will.

Had it been a trivial matter, perhaps it could have been overlooked. Yet this incident involved Rowan—such recklessness would only deepen the rift between them.

And that was precisely what Bruno wished to avoid.

“It seems I must find a way to separate Rowan and Garrett.”

After long contemplation, Bruno decided first to bring Garrett back and discipline him properly. If, afterward, the young man still desired to go to war, he would assign him as an overseer under Faelens or Andreia—anywhere but beside Rowan.

That way, their paths would no longer cross.

Putting aside this vexing issue, Bruno unfolded a map and gazed upon the location of Misthaven.

At this moment, his heart swelled with the same conviction shared by his daughter Sheryl and Viscount Willis: with two Radiant Knights and a dragon on their side, and their forces united, capturing Misthaven was beyond doubt.

“The humiliating defeat thirty years ago broke my father’s spirit, hastening his end. But now, under my hand, Misthaven shall return. At last, the stain upon the Alduin name shall be erased!”

“And once Rowan and his faction have served their purpose, rebuilding an empire under the Alduin banner will be no mere dream!”

Who, seated upon a throne, does not yearn to expand their dominion?

Bruno could not deny it—his heart now fluttered with anticipation, with quiet, burning excitement.

(End of Chapter)