Chapter 126 - 119: Rumors Beneath the Crown

The rumors reached south long before Lucien did.

At first—

They sounded absurd.

Travelers arriving from northern trade roads spoke of armored beasts made from steel and fire. Merchants described artillery powerful enough to shatter defensive walls from impossible distances while frightened soldiers whispered about disciplined northern formations that moved like machines instead of men.

Most people laughed initially.

Until more reports arrived.

Then more.

And more kept coming.

Within days—

The same stories began appearing everywhere across the Kingdom of Asterion.

Taverns,Trade routes,Military checkpoints.

Merchant caravans,Noble estates.

The northern lord was marching south.

And he was bringing monsters with him.

Snow drifted across the city of Valenford while merchants crowded loudly inside a roadside tavern near the southern trade gates.

The atmosphere buzzed with rumors.

One merchant slammed his mug onto the table loudly.

"I’m telling you it was larger than a fortress gate."

Another immediately scoffed.

"You were drunk."

The merchant pointed angrily toward the road outside.

"That thing moved without horses."

Several nearby travelers quietly listened now.

A soldier sitting near the fire finally spoke.

"It’s true."

The tavern became quieter immediately.

The man slowly drank from his cup before continuing.

"I saw it during the coalition war."

His eyes remained fixed upon the flames.

"Cavalry charged to it."

Silence settled across the room.

Then quietly—

"And they died."

Nobody laughed afterward.

Because soldiers rarely spoke like frightened men unless they truly meant it.

Outside—

Snow continued falling softly over crowded streets while northern rumors spread through the city faster than winter winds.

And from Valenford—

Those rumors continued moving south.

Three days later—

The reports finally reached the capital.

Within the royal palace of House Vaelthron—

A tense discussion unfolded inside the royal war chamber.

Several military officers stood beside a massive map of Asterion while royal officials quietly reviewed reports from the north.

The atmosphere remained uneasy.

One older noble finally scoffed quietly while tossing a report onto the table.

"Exaggerated nonsense no such things exists."

Across from him—

A military officer answered coldly.

"Three separate commanders confirmed the same information."

"That armored vehicle exists."

Another official frowned deeply.

"Warhound..."

Even the name sounded unpleasant.

The older noble crossed his arms dismissively.

"Nothing more than a glorified siege carriage."

"No."

The officer’s answer came immediately.

"Siege carriages do not cross battlefields under artillery fire."

The chamber became quieter after that.

Then another officer stepped forward carefully.

"The Elarion convoy reportedly maintains full marching discipline."

"No civilian incidents."

"No disorder."

"No supply shortages."

Several officials exchanged glances immediately.

That detail disturbed them more than the machine itself.

Because organized armies were only dangerous.

But efficient armies were terrifying.

Then finally—

A calm voice interrupted the chamber.

"Interesting."

Every noble and officer immediately straightened.

At the far end of the chamber—

King Alaric Vaelthron stood silently beside the enormous map of the kingdom.

The king’s expression remained unreadable.

Sharp eyes slowly studied the reports spread across the table.

One noble immediately stepped forward.

"Your Majesty, Elarion’s military growth may become destabilizing."

The king calmly looked toward him.

"How."

The noble hesitated briefly.

"The northern lord’s influence continues expanding."

"Industrialization."

"Military reform."

"Independent infrastructure."

His voice lowered slightly.

"The old balance may begin shifting."

King Alaric remained silent for several moments.

Then finally—

"The kingdom has survived shifting balances before."

The chamber fell quiet immediately.

The king slowly picked up another report.

"What interests me is not his strength."

His eyes scanned the parchment carefully.

"It is his efficiency."

Several military officers exchanged uneasy glances.

Because that statement revealed something dangerous.

The king was not dismissing Lucien.

He was evaluating him.

One younger commander finally spoke carefully.

"Your Majesty..."

"The military academies have begun discussing Elarion tactics."

That finally caused reactions throughout the chamber.

Several older nobles frowned instantly.

One aristocrat spoke sharply.

"These industrial theories are dangerous."

The younger commander answered calmly.

"They are effective."

Before another argument could begin—

The king raised one hand slightly.

Silence immediately returned.

Then calmly—

"Permit observation."

Several nobles looked visibly shocked.

The older aristocrat stepped forward immediately.

"Your Majesty, encouraging these doctrines may weaken traditional military structures."

King Alaric slowly looked toward him directly.

"And did those traditional military doctrines worked?"

The noble immediately fell silent.

The king calmly returned his gaze toward the map.

"Adaptation is not weakness."

His voice remained calm.

"Refusing adaptation is."

No one argued afterward.

Because nobody present could openly deny the truth anymore.

Far above the royal palace—

Snow drifted silently around the highest tower in the capital.

Then suddenly—

The air itself distorted briefly.

An immense pressure spread invisibly across the palace grounds for only a moment before vanishing completely much like an illusion.

Inside the war chamber—

Every mage present immediately froze.

One official turned pale instantly.

Then quietly—

"The Royal Guardian..."

Even King Alaric’s eyes shifted briefly upward toward the tower.

Only for a moment.

Then the king calmly returned to the reports again.

Meanwhile—

Far across the capital—

Inside a heavily guarded estate belonging to House Verenthal—

The atmosphere was far less calm.

Several powerful nobles sat around a massive table while military reports covered its surface completely.

Expressions remained dark.

One elderly duke finally slammed a document onto the table angrily.

"Factories."

His voice dripped with disgust.

"Factories inside noble territory."

Another aristocrat answered sharply.

"It is worse than factories."

He pointed toward another report.

"The northern roads are being rebuilt entirely."

"Independent supply lines."

"Industrial production."

"Centralized logistics."

His expression darkened visibly.

"Elarion is becoming economically self-sufficient."

Silence followed immediately.

Because every noble present understood the implications.

One younger marquis finally spoke carefully.

"The Crown appears interested in cooperation with Lucien."

Several nobles looked visibly irritated immediately.

One older lord spoke coldly.

"Of course Alaric is interested."

"He sees military value."

Another answered darkly.

"Yes."

"But military value becomes political influence eventually."

The room became quieter afterward.

Because that fear was real.

Factories weakened merchant monopolies.

Industrial logistics weakened territorial dependency.

Modern warfare weakened cavalry prestige.

The old world was not collapsing.

But it was changing.

And old powers hated change deeply.

One noble finally spoke quietly.

"Machine guns are not the real problem."

Several nobles looked toward him.

The elderly man’s eyes narrowed faintly.

"Factories are."

Silence settled heavily across the chamber.

Then quietly—

"Wars can be survived."

His gaze hardened.

"But irrelevance..."

The old duke slowly folded the report.

"...irrelevance kills houses."

No one answered him afterward.

Because every noble present understood exactly what he meant.

Elsewhere—

Inside the Grand Military Academy—

A completely different atmosphere existed.

Young officers crowded around battlefield maps deep into the night while copied coalition reports spread across tables obsessively.

Excitement filled the room.

One cadet pointed toward a battle diagram enthusiastically.

"Look here."

"Artillery suppression first."

"Machine-gun containment afterward."

"Then armored breakthrough."

His eyes practically gleamed.

"It completely destroys cavalry momentum."

Another officer nodded immediately.

"Traditional formations become death traps."

A third lowered his voice carefully.

"The senior instructors hate these discussions."

The first cadet grinned slightly.

"Because they know the northern methods work."

Across the academy—

Older officers watched the conversations with increasingly troubled expressions.

Because deep down—

Even they understood warfare was changing.

And they no longer controlled where that change was heading.

Far south—

Within the Grand Cathedral of Radiance—

The atmosphere remained calm.

Quiet and almost peaceful.

Golden candlelight illuminated enormous stone halls while priests moved silently through endless corridors.

Inside a private chamber—

Several senior clergy quietly reviewed reports from the north.

Unlike the nobles—

The Church showed no visible fear.

One priest finally spoke softly.

"The northern lord gains influence quickly."

Another answered calmly.

"Yes."

"But influence itself is not dangerous."

The first priest looked toward the reports.

"He changes systems."

Silence settled briefly.

Then—

A senior cardinal finally spoke.

"Such men appear rarely."

His expression remained unreadable.

"But when they do..."

The old cardinal slowly closed one report.

"...they reshape eras."

The chamber became silent afterward.

Then calmly—

"Do not interfere prematurely."

"For now just observe and evaluate"

Because unlike nobles—

The Church thought in generations instead of decades.

And meanwhile—

Far to the north of the capital—

Snow fell heavily across the ancient estate of House Valcriox.

Deep within the northern wing of the ducal residence—

A single chamber remained illuminated despite the late hour.

Inside—

Duke Valcriox sat silently behind a massive desk covered with reports and sealed letters while fire crackled softly nearby.

The atmosphere remained quiet.

Cold and controlled.

Then—

Three sharp knocks echoed against the chamber doors.

The duke did not look up.

"Enter."

A shadow-cloaked man stepped inside immediately afterward before kneeling respectfully.

Unlike ordinary servants—

This man carried no family insignia.

No heraldry,No visible identity at all.

One of the duke’s private intelligence agents.

The chamber doors closed behind him silently.

Then the man finally spoke.

"My lord."

"The northern reports have been confirmed."

Only then did Duke Valcriox slowly raise his eyes from the documents before him.

The spy continued carefully.

"Lord Lucien’s convoy crossed Valenford three days ago."

"Four artillery batteries confirmed."

"Disciplined military escort."

"And the armored vehicle known as the Warhound."

The duke remained silent.

The spy hesitated briefly before continuing.

"Reports from southern territories indicate widespread reaction."

"Military academies have begun studying Elarion warfare."

"Merchant guilds are discussing northern industrial expansion."

"And several noble houses appear increasingly concerned."

The room grew quieter afterward.

Then—

The spy carefully placed another sealed document onto the desk.

"The royal invitation has also been confirmed."

At that—

The duke’s eyes finally shifted slightly.

A long silence followed.

Only the sound of burning firewood echoed softly through the chamber.

Then quietly—

"The king invited him personally."

The spy lowered his head further.

"Yes, my lord."

The duke slowly leaned backward in his chair while his gaze settled upon the fire nearby.

Lucien.

A faint bitter expression crossed the duke’s face briefly before vanishing immediately.

The spy remained kneeling silently.

Then finally—

"The southern nobles are reacting exactly as expected."

The duke’s voice remained calm.

Controlled But colder than before.

"They fear change."

The intelligence agent answered cautiously.

"Yes, my lord."

"The Old Noble Coalition appears increasingly unsettled by Elarion’s industrial expansion."

A humorless smile appeared briefly on the duke’s face.

"Of course they are."

"They spent generations believing power belonged exclusively to ancient bloodlines."

His gaze slowly darkened.

"Now a boy they abandoned in the north returns carrying artillery, factories, and armored war machines."

Silence settled again.

Then quietly—

The duke finally picked up another report.

One describing the Warhound.

Massive armored structure,Mobile battlefield platform,Mana-engine propulsion.

And heavy gun armament.

The duke stared at the parchment silently for several moments.

Then softly—

"He truly built all this..."

For the first time—

Something complicated surfaced beneath the duke’s controlled expression.

Pain.

Buried deeply beneath years of restraint.

The spy carefully remained silent.

Then the duke suddenly spoke again.

"Did the family elders receive these reports yet."

"Yes, my lord."

The answer came immediately.

"And their reaction?"

The spy hesitated briefly.

"...Fear."

That answer caused the duke to close his eyes momentarily.

Because he already understood why.

Factories weakened noble monopolies.

Industrial logistics weakened territorial dependency.

Modern warfare weakened knight superiority.

Lucien was changing systems themselves.

And old powers always feared change.

Then suddenly—

CRACK.

The wooden armrest beneath the duke’s hand splintered instantly.

The spy visibly stiffened.

The duke slowly opened his eyes again.

"Continue monitoring the capital."

"Yes, my lord."

"And Lucien?"

For the first time that night—

The duke hesitated briefly.

Then quietly—

"...ensure no one moves against him before he reaches the capital."

The spy’s eyes widened faintly for a moment before lowering again immediately.

"As you command."

Then the shadow-cloaked agent vanished silently into the darkness beyond the chamber.

Leaving Duke Valcriox standing alone beside the fire while snowstorms raged endlessly outside.

The convoy of Elarion continued marching south through falling snow completely unaware that the Kingdom of Asterion had already begun shifting around it and they still acted like nothing new happened.

While being at the center of it all—

Lucien simply continued advancing toward the capital.