Lambert’s cloak was lifted by the wind, ashes covered his visor, and he lowered his voice: "Finish up, leave a few alive, clean up the rest."
The Red Tide Knight Order launched a bloody suppression operation.
Nearing dawn, a sliver of white appeared on the horizon, and the knight order stationed outside the city and the logistics team gradually arrived.
The crowd stopped amidst the ruins, the air filled with the stench of char and grease, so pungent it made one nauseous.
They looked at the scene before them: the scorched courtyard, toppled statues, tal twisted by fireworks, blood-soaked snow, the entire manor seemingly consud by the fires of hell.
Young soldiers gulped, their voices trembling: "What... what happened here?"
The Red Tide Knights were at that mont using long spears to ticulously raise the remains, with the occasional dying shriek of a barbarian quickly silenced with a coup de grâce.
In the end, the Red Tide only kept a few prisoners who appeared to be of significant status.
The barbarian leader Wulu, bound by iron chains, along with his two aides, while all other barbarians were executed.
Once the casualty report was completed, Lambert stepped forward and half-kneeled before Louis in salute:
"My lord, the tally is finished. The nobility has suffered heavy casualties. Among over thirty nobles attending the eting, nearly half were affected, with seventy-five knights dead.
Three nobles died within the manor, two were shot by arrows while fleeing. The highest-ranking noble was Viscount Bolton, and the Sixth Prince, Astha... has also been confird dead."
Louis was slightly taken aback upon hearing this, his brows furrowed lightly, evidently surprised.
His original plan was to use this attack to detain the prince and force him to fully submit.
Unexpectedly, Astha died so easily, what a disappointnt.
Louis remained silent for a mont, calculating the chain reactions Astha’s death might cause, slowly calming his expression, a trace of cold thought flashing in his heart.
Dead is dead, the goal is achieved, the effect remains, the impact limited.
The princes in the Imperial Capital are embroiled in their own struggles, unlikely to pay heed here; Astha’s death might only serve as a brief topic at a banquet, with no one dispatched for investigation.
As for the Northern Territory, Louis did not believe anyone would dare ddle in this matter.
Louis’s gaze swept over the ruins, the blood-red morning light reflecting in his eyes, calculating the next steps.
"However... a show still needs to be staged," Louis said softly, "since the Sixth Prince is dead, there must be an explanation."
He turned to Lambert, speaking plainly: "Gather all uninjured nobles, we need to hold a eting and give a result to this attack."
Lambert nodded in response: "Yes, my lord."
He turned away to begin directing the knights to gather the nobles.
The flas cast on Louis’s side profile, his expression as cold as ice, no one knowing what he was thinking.
......
At dawn, the blood mist had not dissipated, the sll of tar and the stench of corpses mingling like an unresolved nightmare.
The Frost Dragon Territory manor had temporarily been cleared into a clean area, yet fragnted bodies still piled around.
Red Tide knights stood surrounding, blood on their armor not yet wiped off, an eerie air of killing intent lingering, the atmosphere heavy as if solidifying.
The nobles stood in a circle, their attire disheveled, expressions fearful, with a few young noble won sheltered at the back, tear stains still fresh, yet they were the lucky ones — so nobles had died in the attack.
"Who dared to attack the prince’s eting?!" An elder noble’s voice trembled.
"This isn’t rebellion... it’s outright murder!" Another roared, but the sound seed powerless in the vast ruins.
The crowd clamored, debating yesterday’s events.
Just then, Louis slowly ascended the fla-scorched steps, unard, hands behind his back.
"Ladies and gentlen, last night’s tragedy not only spilled the Northern Territory’s blood but also shad the Empire! We must find the culprits! Without soone’s assistance, these barbarians could not have entered so easily!"
Louis’s tone was mournful yet carried a sharp edge, as he scanned those around, no one daring to et his gaze: "If we don’t find the true culprits, we all risk becoming the Empire’s laughingstock! We would also fail our friends seeking revenge!"
The nobles initially responded in agreent, echoing Louis’s words.
"Indeed, it must be thoroughly investigated!" Yorn shouted first, clearly terrified the previous night, "The big boss is right! Such a despicable conspiracy must be unraveled!"
"Soone’s playing with intrigue!"
"Punishnt is necessary!"
Voices rose one after another, many nodding in agreent, seemingly incited by Louis’s speech.
Yet under the fervent response, hidden currents flowed, their unease growing, fearing involvent in a conspiracy.
So nobles exchanged furtive looks and whispered among themselves, others furrowed their brows sensing sothing amiss.
Several elder lords cleared their throats, yet said nothing more.
The discussion spread like chaotic streams.
As the clamor reached its peak, Louis simply raised his hand, gently pressing down.
The gesture was slight, yet like an invisible pressure descending.
Voices instantly fell silent, the lords lowering their heads, uneasily quiet.
The surrounding chaos contrasted starkly with the current order.
Though Louis was rely an invited guest, in silence, he had seized control of the order here.
The manor’s ruins under his feet seed to beco Red Tide’s dominion.
And among the Frost Dragon Territory’s nobility and knights, they subconsciously believed he should preside over the situation.
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