Chapter 177: Who Stole My Bones? (8)
Louis followed Pablo through the camp.
After passing by countless soldiers spread out across the area, they finally reached a large tent.
It was an enormous circular tent that could easily accommodate over a hundred people.
Louis and Pablo’s steps abruptly stopped at the entrance to the circular tent.
The reason for this was the familiar face that appeared directly in front of them.
“Ahem!”
It was Count Persellus, and he let out an uncomfortable cough.
His beady eyes glared at Louis before he swiftly turned and entered the tent.
Louis whispered in Pablo’s ear.
“That old codger is still bitter, I see.”
“P-Perhaps so,” Pablo said with an awkward smile as he continued walking.
Louis followed behind Pablo without any further words.
Soon, the scene within the vast tent came into view.
It’s enormous, he thought.
In the center of the tent stood a massive round table, easily accommodating at least forty people. Quite a number of nobles were already seated around it.
“The great warrior is here.”
“Who’s the young man behind him? It’s not the same attendant who accompanied him last time, is it?”
Pablo, accustomed to being the center of attention, ignored the murmurs as he found his spot and took a seat. As Louis moved to sit next to him, Pablo urgently held him back with a meaningful look.
Louis deciphered Pablo’s message from his bewildered eyes.
What’s wrong? What is it?
Pablo discreetly nodded towards something. Following his gaze, Louis slightly furrowed his brow.
What in the world is that?
In the direction Pablo had pointed, one man sat alone while another stood at his back with hands clasped behind his head. And they weren’t the only ones—all the other nobles were in similar positions.
Louis raised an eyebrow as he sent another message.
…So attendants can’t take a seat unless and until they’re granted the floor?
Pablo nodded in response.
So these attendants have to stand quietly for the entire meeting without saying a single word?
Pablo glanced around cautiously before nodding again, causing Louis’s eyebrows to shoot up in frustration.
Then why call them here in the first place?! Let them argue among themselves! Am I supposed to act as a human shield? You think I enjoy letting these fools hide behind me and whiff on my scent?!
Pablo couldn’t make out what Louis was saying, but he could tell from his body language that Louis was seething with anger. He pleaded desperately, Please spare me! Just this once, show some mercy…
Fortunately, Louis’s eyebrows seemed to droop slightly at the sight of Pablo’s beseeching gaze. Pablo let out a sigh of relief and rubbed his chest.
Damn… My lifespan is ticking away!
He fervently wished for this uncomfortable meeting to end as quickly as possible.
Meanwhile, Louis stood quietly behind Pablo, his expression still one of extreme displeasure. However, Pablo knew better than to underestimate Louis’s selfRest. He was deeply grateful for his restraint.
As Pablo’s perceived lifespan gradually diminished, the empty seats around them slowly filled up one by one.
When only three seats remained empty…
Swish.
The tent flap lifted, and two figures entered. A man in his fifties and an elderly gent who looked well past seventy. Their appearance caused a shift in the other nobles’ expressions. Paying no mind to the numerous gazes upon them, they approached Pablo and extended their greetings.
“It has been a long time, Great Warrior.”
“This is our first meeting since the last tournament.”
Pablo acknowledged their pleasantries with a warm smile. “I’m glad to see you both well, Duke Bless and Duke Huan. You look good.”
Pablo was over 300 years old, but even he couldn’t ignore the two dukes of the country, so he maintained proper etiquette.
Meanwhile, Louis discreetly observed the trio.
Oh-ho? Are these two considered the most powerful among the nobles?
The change in atmosphere as they entered the meeting hall alone told Louis what these two nobles meant to the others present.
Bliss, the middle-aged guy, looks like he relies on brute force… Is Huan, the elder, more of a cunning intellect?
As Louis sized up the two dukes, a booming voice echoed from outside.
“Hail to the Shield of the East and Great Monarch of Frigidity! Lokan Peterthomas Kanburk the 7th has arrived!”
At the announcement, everyone sprang to their feet, including Pablo. All eyes turned towards the entrance as the tent flap was pushed aside, revealing a man walking in.
Thump-thump.
Standing at 180 centimeters, he had hair with a faint red hue and wore a pristine white cloak. It was a fine-looking man in his thirties.
Louis’s eyes gleamed as he took him in.
Is he the king?
Lokan VII, the young king who had inherited the name of the founder of Kanburk, strode confidently to the last empty seat and took his place. As the other speakers followed suit, Lokan VII began to speak.
“I am grateful that you have all attended this sudden conference without fail.”
Though his tone was humble, it wasn’t subservient. Rather, there was a peculiar, magnetic confidence about him.
“Let us dispense with formalities that only serve to waste time and get straight to the point.”
His willingness to overlook the usual pleasantries hinted at his impatient nature. Louis’s eyes sparkled as he observed how easily the young king could change the atmosphere in the room.
Blood runs thicker than water, they say.
In Lokan VII, Louis could see a reflection of the distant ancestors—the former royal couple.
The Crown Prince was always infinitely cool-headed yet capable of occasional warmth. His wife, on the other hand, was ever gentle and nurturing but could also display great courage and resolve when needed. Though much time had passed and their blood must have diluted through intermarriage, Louis distinctly sensed the presence of both the Grand Duke and his wife in Lokan VII.
Louis gazed intently at Lokan 7th, but no one faulted him for it—everyone in the chamber was focused solely on the young prince.
Under everyone’s watchful eyes, Lokan VII dropped a bombshell:
“I’ve received word that the Snow King has been sighted near the northern mountains.”
”…?!”
The news stunned everyone, leading to an immediate uproar as each person reacted in their own way. The tent’s interior quickly devolved into a scene reminiscent of a bustling market.
At that moment, Duke Bliss raised his voice and called out, “Everyone, quiet down!”
Hwooo- Hwooo-.
The Duke’s voice, imbued with mana, cut through the cacophony. The nobles, realizing the meeting was underway, promptly closed their mouths. In the swiftly enveloping silence, Duke Huan’s steady voice resonated:
“You all know my sentiments well. If you have questions, please formally request to speak and enlighten us.”
The two dukes’ serene expressions seemed to indicate they already knew of the Snow King.
At this, the nobles’ hands shot up rapidly.
“Is… it truly the Snow King?”
“That is what we’ve been informed. It matches the descriptions in the ancient texts precisely.”
Another noble raised their hand.
“Is there a possibility of mistaken identity?”
“When the existence of the Snow King was first confirmed, we sent an additional force of thirty warriors. Of those, only… one returned. According to his testimony, the likelihood of it being the Snow King is high. No, I would say it is certain.”
“When was that?”
“The first sighting was three months ago, and the last one was just a week ago.”
“Three months ago… That’s when the snowstorms started coming more frequently, didn’t it? Hah! So this legend is true after all…”
In the rapid exchange of dialogue, Louis’s eyes darkened.
The Snow King, huh…
It was a name Louis knew well. The Snow King—otherwise known as…
The Orc Lord.
Not just any ordinary Orc Lord, either. He was the ruler of the fierce snowland orcs, renowned for their brutality. A monster whose strength alone put him on par with the top-tier echelons. But even more terrifying than his physical prowess was the “Lord” title, which spoke to his overwhelming command.
The ancient texts referred to this as the Roar, a terrifying power wielded by the Snow King. This Roar commanded obedience from both the snowland orcs and other colossal monsters alike.
The most recent appearance of the Orc Lord had been a remarkable twelve hundred years ago. Yet even then, as now, the Snow King forthrightly presented itself, instigating vicious snowstorms every other day. From within the winter peaks, hordes of thousands upon thousands of monsters poured forth, engulfing nations like a monster tide.
Before the rampaging monstrosities, humans proved powerless. If not for the Empire’s special forces, led by their star mystical commander, the top-tier taker of Mac-heads—the military academy genius known as Howard Mac—the Winter Continent would now be nothing more than a den of monstrous beasts, its people swept away without a trace.
These people of the winter continent had grown up hearing tales of the terrifying Snow King, so it was no surprise that the nobles were confused.
As suffocating silence filled the meeting room, Lokan VII spoke up.
“We’ve only recently confirmed the Snow King’s existence, and we’re not sure exactly when he first appeared. However, based on our analysis of monster activity around the Mac Mountains and nearby areas…”
”…”
“He must have shown up at least seven years ago.”
“Huh…?!”
“If the Snow King truly exists and he first appeared seven years ago… there’s a high chance that his nightmare will repeat itself once more.”
Shock and terror swept through the room.
An elite monster and an army of tens of thousands thought to be fearless—a fearsome prospect indeed.
If the Snow King truly descended from the Mac Mountains, the first to fall would be the Kingdom of Kanburk, situated at their foot. This was why Lokan the 7th had hastily convened the Calon Conference. In truth, it was less a meeting and more a wartime mobilization.
“Henceforth, the Kingdom of Kanburk shall cease all production activities and enter a state of war.”
No sooner had the king’s war declaration ended when a hand rose from one side.
“Your Highness.”
“Speak, Duke Hailer.”
“Is it not imperative to inform our neighboring nations, Your Highness? If we fall, they will be next. We must receive aid, even if only a little. Especially, we desperately need the help of the Dominant Empire.”
“I have already informed them.”
“What was their response?”
“They said it might be a hasty judgment, so they’ll review it internally and get back to us.”
”…When was that?”
“Two months ago. Since then, we’ve heard nothing from the Empire or any other kingdoms.”
The king’s story left the crowd stunned. Everyone present understood the implications of his words.
“These insane bastards!”
“Do they not realize that if we fall, they’re next?!”
It was unlikely that the Dominant Empire or other kingdoms would offer any assistance. Even if they did, it’d probably only happen after Kanburk suffered heavy losses.
As someone from the Kanburk Kingdom, this was deeply distressing, but there was nothing to be done. The reality couldn’t have been more bleak.
As Louis listened to their conversation, something struck him.
Wait…? Hold on, could this be…?
A glint of realization flashed in his eyes.
Meanwhile, the king turned to Pablo.
“Great Warrior.”
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
“We require the assistance of our allies.”
Pablo’s face hardened at Lokan VII’s words. With the help of neighboring countries uncertain, Kanburk Kingdom desperately needed the Order’s support. The Order’s warriors were a group of individuals, each possessing exceptional skills. These warriors, who shunned magic, were precisely the kind of allies the king had to secure, more so than any noble.
Pablo was about to nod in agreement with the king’s request. However…
Thwack!
His head froze in place, unable to move.
He stood motionless, as if someone had suddenly grabbed him by the collar.
W-What is this?!
His bewilderment was fleeting.
Pablo resigned himself to his fate.
In this situation, who else could possibly pull off such a feat?
As he surmised, a voice spoke from behind him.
“Well, you see…”
Everyone’s eyes turned toward the interloper.
Despite being the center of attention, Louis held his head high with pride.
This infuriated Duke Persellus. “What impudence! How dare an attendant without the right to speak interrupt His Majesty the King!”
The duke’s roar and furious glare reflected his deep indignation. After all, they were discussing matters that might well determine the future of the Kanburk Kingdom.
In the middle of such an important meeting, a mere servant—a non-speaking participant—had rudely interrupted the representatives of both the king and the great warrior, the leaders of the two opposing forces.
Naturally, everyone present was offended and upset at this turn of events.
But there was one exception: Pablo alone reacted differently.
This is exactly what I expected… What a joke!
Pablo looked like he’d been waiting for this moment.
In a cold voice, Louis spoke to him.
“Pablo, step aside.”
His quiet words spread throughout the conference room.
At the same time, question marks seemed to appear above the heads of the attendees.
“Pablo?”
“Did that little punk just call the great warrior ‘Pablo’?”
It was utterly incomprehensible to them. But what happened next was even more astonishing.
Scrape.
Pablo slid back his chair and stood up. He bowed slightly and stepped back, while Louis took the seat that Pablo had vacated. Pablo smoothly pushed the chair in for Louis from behind, displaying utmost politeness.
The crowd was astounded by this sight.
“That…!”
“What?!”
Unfazed by the shocked looks, Louis sat down on the chair. With his back resting against the backrest, his upper body remained ramrod straight. The tip of his nose pointed forward proudly, as if he belonged there all along. Crisscrossing his legs elegantly, Louis gazed lazily at the crowd and spoke.
“Does this mean I also have the right to speak now?”
As Louis looked around at the meeting attendees, his eyes flickered dangerously.
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