Tifiko Wembton sat upon the throne, his ruby scepter resting on his palm, surveying the ministers in the hall below.
This is exactly the feeling I want, he thought, instead of crouching in Jin Sui City, entangled with merchants over trivial gains.
He paused his scepter, its pure gold shaft striking the polished marble floor with a crisp clink. Noticing the crowd's eyes fixed on him, he nodded and said,' Let's begin.' 'Your Majesty, I have urgent matters to report,' Sir Wimass, nicknamed 'Steelheart Knight,' who oversaw the defense of the Royal Capital, spoke first.
"Speak." "May the Witch hunt be temporarily halted, Your Majesty? The campaign has spiraled out of control recently. I heard of women from civilian households being arrested and subjected to brutal torture in dungeons, with one even dying in the cells—yet they were never witches. The outer districts are now in turmoil, and if this continues, mass escapes may occur." Tifeco frowned. The Witch hunt was his own initiative. King Wimbledon III's death remains unexplained, but he never believed his father committed suicide, especially that eerie smile before his death, which sent chills down his spine. His father wore the highest-grade God's Stone, and the Church confirmed the stone hadn't been tampered with or rendered ineffective. Yet none of this proves the Witch's involvement.
When it comes to the bizarre, no one can match those enchantresses in their art.
He turned his gaze to Lany, the executioner of the manhunt and his own protégé. The latter immediately stepped forward: "Your Majesty, it was an accident. I have severely punished those involved," he said, counting on his fingers. "The warden, the jailer, and the guard were each sentenced to ten lashes and twenty-five silver wolves." "One dead, three tortured—do the villains just get a few lashes and a fine?" Sir Wimms said coldly. "And who gave you the authority to judge? Lord Wick, the Prime Minister, or Lord Poirot, the Minister of Justice?" "Your Majesty! In extraordinary times, I must act with extraordinary measures," Lany knelt on one knee, pleading for mercy. "Despite minor setbacks, the manhunt has been highly successful. We've captured at least fifteen witches hiding in the Royal Capital. They're being tortured now, and we'll soon find out if they're plotting something against your father—or rather, if they're plotting anything at all." Tefiko shot him a glare. This fool nearly revealed his true intentions. While most ministers in the hall could guess the real purpose of his actions, the public narrative—that Prince Goron had killed the King—must not be overturned.
"Fifteen witches?" Steelheart Knight sneered. "Impressive. The capital has become witches 'stronghold. The Church only captured six members of the Brotherhood during their recent hunt in the eastern kingdom's forests. Your lackeys are even more formidable than the Church's Inquisition Army." "You..." "Enough!" Lanley was a fool, and so were his men. Tefiko thought irritably. If he hadn't been short-handed at the beginning of his reign, he wouldn't have promoted such fools. Even if he wanted to claim credit, he wouldn't fabricate numbers like this. Most of these fifteen would likely be like those unfortunate commoner women. He hadn't wanted the Church involved, but there was no other way. "Go to the church and summon the priest of the priesthood to verify these fifteen's identities. Stop all torture. Every person you capture must be verified by the priest! If I hear your men mismanaging their subordinates again, I'll throw you into the capital's moat to feed fish!" "Uh, yes, Your Majesty." "Act immediately!" After sending Lanley out of the hall, Tefiko turned to the Chancellor of the Exchequer. "If any of these are wrongfully accused, along with the previous three, award two Golden Dragons as compensation. The one who died in prison shall receive it for their family." He paused. "One extra." "As you wish." The Chancellor nodded.
"Your Majesty is merciful," Sir Wimms said, bowing.
"Next item," Tefiko spat out his stale breath. Seeing the Minister below remained silent, he took the floor. "With no new agenda items, I'll speak." His gaze fell on the Foreign Minister, Sir Brint the "Umbrella." "The recall order has been issued for over a month, yet not a soul has returned to the capital. What's the situation?" Sir Brint, a member of the Filling family who had held the position for thirty years, wore silver hair and a weathered face, his half-step into the coffin already visible. He cleared his throat. "Your Majesty, your third sister, Giaxia Wimbledon, remains unaccounted for. Your fourth brother Roland Wimbledon has replied. The letter states he'll consider returning to the capital after the Demon's Month ends and his subjects are safe. But..." "But what?" "He addressed you as 'Your Highness' instead of 'Your Majesty' or 'the King.' " Tefiko couldn't help but sneer. "Still as ignorant as ever, my hopeless younger brother." He thought. "If you plan to return, treat me as king. I'll grant you a princely position. If you refuse, brace yourself for a final struggle. See what you've done—hesitant, wavering, wanting to return yet unwilling to surrender? What's the point of this verbal spat?"
"Let him be," Tifeco waved his hand. "What about Fifth Sister?" "Your Highness, she... has vanished." "What? Vanished?" "She initially agreed to my envoy's request, but a week later Your Highness disappeared from the temporary palace, along with her steward and two maids. I've dispatched search teams, yet her whereabouts remain unknown." What's this? One after another, they refuse to believe me! Tifeco felt his heart constricted. He had pinned high hopes on his sister, expecting her to assist him. After all, Tilly had been exceptionally bright since childhood, even outshining him in brilliance—her only flaw being that she was a girl.
Tie Feike had always trusted her implicitly. Judging from his father's arrangements, he clearly didn't intend to drag Tili into this turmoil. The territory he granted her was Silverlight City, not far from the capital. It was a modest trading post, with no potential for military expansion. Who would have thought that Fifth Sister would actually run away?
Is this the choice of a smart person?
"Since he has fled, let the former Lord continue overseeing Silverlight City. The search must persist—I cannot let a royal bloodline fall into the hands of commoners." He clenched his teeth, suppressing his frustration. "Then only Third Sister remains defiant?" "Yes, Your Majesty." "Given her obstinacy, I must resort to firm measures," Tefiko turned to Marquis Wick, the Prime Minister, noting that issuing a war decree required the King's and the Prime Minister's approval. As his most loyal supporter, Marquis Wick was expected to agree without hesitation. "I intend to dispatch the Southern Guardian Duke Joy to compel Gacia to relinquish Bishui Harbor and escort her back to the capital." Marquis Wick responded promptly, "This matter demands immediate action. Your Majesty, please issue the war decree promptly, to be delivered by the Foreign Minister." Tefiko nodded approvingly, about to summon the scribe to draft the document, when the sudden sound of galloping hooves echoed outside the hall. After a brief commotion, a Knight clad in a blue striped cloak burst through the gate, striding into the hall with a heavy stride.
Tifiko recognized him—the famed "凛风Knight" Naimon Mor. He strode to the hall's center, knelt on one knee, and said anxiously, "Your Majesty, I've just received news from the South." He drew a sharp breath. "Your sister, Gacia Wamberton, crushed Duke Joy Cole of the South five days ago and seized Eagle City! And... she declared herself the Queen of Emerald Waters, with lords across the realm rallying to her cause. The entire South has declared independence!"