The once-glorious banquet hall was now a shadow of its forr self, with hundreds of nobles from Jinhe Town seated between the long tables.
The sound of flutes joyfully trilled, while trumpets emitted wavering tremolos, and the dancers freely displayed their graceful figures at the ball.
The peasant girls, captured from nearby farms and ard, wore crude powder on their faces, flattering the aristocrats by serving drinks.
However, unlike the past, these nobles, who seed to have no worries, were now all distracted.
Though it was a bustling banquet, the atmosphere felt so cold that it could almost condense into water.
They dryly raised their wine glasses, uttering irrelevant toasts, yet there wasn’t a trace of joy on their faces.
Only a few unruly drunkards kept singing loudly and reached into the dancers’ collars.
"Hey, why aren’t you drinking?" A drunken noble hiccupped, pouring wine into the glass of an injured noble, "Drink up."
"I won’t drink, I won’t drink." The noble pushed the glass aside, speaking irritatedly.
He really wasn’t in the mood for drinking; he still couldn’t believe that they had indeed been defeated.
A grand army of thousands of infantry, more than a thousand Extraordinary Knights, and expendable peasant soldiers had been defeated by fewer than six thousand farrs.
Even the monks’ Divine Art had no effect on that Devil’s Gun; the evil Devil Wind blew as it pleased.
Three hundred Nikosak Knights were completely annihilated.
Of the four hundred Extraordinary Knights who set out, only a little over a hundred returned.
The Archbishop of Jinhe Town was captured, Count Zelaken was captured, and Nidesar Knight drank poison and committed suicide.
The humiliating defeat at Black Mountain had beco the biggest topic among the Jinhe Town aristocracy in the past two days.
Although everyone said not to discuss the war before the banquet, when eyes t, there seed to be little interest in talking about anything else.
Most nobles engaged in idle conversation or simply sat in silence.
However, so nobles noticed a very interesting thing.
Originally, at noble banquets, most attendees were of Falan and Leia descent, with only about one-fifth being Kush descent.
After this battle, the various noble losses were heavy, but the strength of the Kush Knights remained quite intact, with Kush nobles accounting for more than one-third of those present.
In terms of knight numbers, for a significant period, the Kush Faction Knights led by the Alco Clan held the advantage.
Damn it, the original Alco Clan was just a small branch of the Kush Family, yet within three generations, they had beco one of the foremost noble families in Jinhe Town.
Thinking of this, most gazes turned to the dozing old lady, Vivian Christie Alco.
"Have a drink." At the edge of the hall, the drunken noble continued to harass the injured noble at the sa table.
"Oh, not in the mood."
"No mood ans you should drink even more; drinking will improve your mood."
"Improve my mood? You damned drunk, who gets in a good mood with you." Annoyed by the drunken noble, the injured noble kicked him over.
In disbelief, the drunken noble watched as he stood up in anger and shouted at the nobles present: "Can’t any of you say sothing? First Jeanne d’Arc Castle was lost, then Pavia, then Monkulus, then Black Mountain, what’s next to lose?"
"But from another perspective, we are all nobles. With our wit, if we prepare for war early, maybe next ti..."
"Oh Saint Master bless us, we couldn’t even win with our advantage at Black Mountain, can you guarantee we’ll win next ti?" Another noble with his face wrapped in bandages, his mouth pierced by a bullet, said sarcastically, "Very blue."
"So what do you suggest?"
"I’ve done my best, and got injured. I’ve completed my forty days of military service for the year, now it’s your problem."
"If you had won, would there be more issues afterwards?"
"My fault? You say it’s our fault?" The bandaged noble slapped the table, rattling the plates and cutlery, "Nonsense! Why don’t you dare to fight the Salvation Army? You stayed back, yet bla us."
Imdiately, a Leia noble jeered: "True to the Falan, a Leia rabbit becos the kingdom’s bravest warrior when it goes to Falan."
"Say that again!" The face of the Falan noble turned red, taking off his gloves, "Do you dare to step outside for a duel with ?"
"Quiet, quiet!" Eventually, it was Donico who took the lead, guiding these old nobles to suppress the quarreling nobles.
Amid the glaring, an old, kind voice arose.
"This old fool might have an immature suggestion." The grandmother, leaning on her cane, wobbled to her feet, "Now that the Salvation Army is strong, why not learn from the strategy of Bear Castle Territory instead of directly resisting?"
The nobles recalled the so-called strategy of Bear Castle Territory, revealing expressions of surprise.
The so-called strategy of Bear Castle Territory refers to the early phase of the hundred-year war when Bear Castle Territory was once occupied by the Royal Court.
The local nobles converted to the Eternal Lord, served as Tax Collectors for the Royal Court, and even took the opportunity to annex smaller lords and tribes.
But as the Royal Court gradually weakened, the local nobles imdiately rose in rebellion, overthrowing the local vampire regi.
They proclaid themselves to have "feigned conversion with intentions to repent later."
Although the old lady was a Norn from the Iron Sword Territory, she was very clear about the dark history of the Bear Castle people.
"Are you saying, pretend allegiance, then repent later?" A Leia Knight with a dismissive squint asked, "Old lady, this is not the Bear Castle or Iron Sword Territory in the middle of nowhere."
"Why not? The Salvation Army will surely head to rescue Rapids City, and during this ti we can just gather our strength."
"That’s right, our Jinhe Town is the first line of defense against Black Snake Bay. If we let the Salvation Army and Black Snake Bay join forces, the consequences would be unimaginable."
"Aren’t you just afraid of the Salvation Army? Coward! Impure one!"
"Who are you calling a coward? Humph (inhale), who are you calling a coward!"
This idea was initially a small-scale discussion, but with each push, almost all the nobility joined in.
So areas even started fighting and personal attacks; if not, they dug into each other’s dark pasts.
The entire hall was as noisy as a morning fruit and vegetable market, with yelling, table smashing, crying, and clothes tearing, more chaotic than a village eting.
The nobility’s hair was all disheveled, fine robes torn loose, exposing hairy chests and partially bare white shoulders.
The band that had been playing was frightened, and the dancers and maids shrank into the corners, shivering as they watched the scene before them.
Many young ladies stared dumbfounded at the scene, which contradicted their impressions.
You must know, according to their sisters’ and mothers’ tales, these nobles would talk politely, dine quietly, and only after the al would show their rougher male side, reaching into their clothes.
If lucky, they could even spend a night with a noble and conceive a noble child.
But today, the nobles seed no different from bandits, or even more chaotic and rough.
The old lady sighed, both helplessly and contemptuously, wrapped a blanket cloak around her, and walked out of the banquet hall with her cane.
Nearby, Donico and other Kush nobles imdiately stepped forward to support her. Seeing their elders leave, the remaining Kush nobles stood up and followed her out.
So nobles who agreed with the old matriarch’s thoughts also stood up and followed her.
In the end, only about a third of the nobles were left in the entire banquet hall.
The sound of quarrels gradually ceased, replaced by the continuous opening and closing of doors.
The opponents of the argunts all left, leaving only four or five dozen people, naturally with nothing left to argue about.
The hall fell into an eerie silence, people sat dryly, and no one thought to call the band to play again.
Looking at this gloomy atmosphere, an old noble shook his head helplessly, "At this point, let’s have a al first, serve the food!"
...
"Grandmother, do we really have to repent later?" Donico asked hesitantly, following behind his elderly grandmother, who walked quickly despite her shaky steps.
The old lady turned around nonchalantly, "Loyalty is the cloak of interest, it’s not the clothes that matter, but who wears them."
Seeing Donico’s slack and watery eyes, the old lady beca even more nostalgic for her illegitimate grandson Bernardo, who died in Pavia.
"As long as he can allow us Kush people to regain freedom, I can be loyal forever, until one day he can no longer do so."
Explaining the principle behind it as plainly as possible to Donico, the old lady continued downward, regardless of whether he understood or not.
Like his good brothers Perini and Enrico, Donico could hardly understand his grandmother’s complex scheming; his simple mind was not ready to listen more.
Chasing to his grandmother’s side, Donico asked about his concerns: "What should we do with the remaining nobles?"
It seed as if the old lady didn’t hear, still moving forward at a deceptively slow pace.
Thinking his grandmother was too old and didn’t hear, Donico increased his volu by two decibels and shouted beside her: "Grand! Moth! Er! What about! The nobles! Next?!"
The old lady was startled by her obedient grandson, swinging her cane in a blow: "Are you looking to die? I’m not deaf yet, fool."
"But you didn’t answer ." Donico sheepishly followed behind, but before he could ask clearly, he heard a strange explosion.
Turning his head at that mont, his eyes widened in horror.
The courtyard on the hill spewed black smoke mixed with flas, and the sturdy wooden courtyard collapsed with a crash.
Cups, wine jugs, and plates flew wildly in mid-air, wooden planks and seats collided with each other, and the nobles fell from the second floor, their mouths letting out panicked screams.
Yellow and green liquid pillars surged, and dozens of nobles landed in the cesspit below the courtyard, while at an unknown ti, hundreds of Extraordinary Infantry erged from all around.
They stood at the edge of the cesspit, holding long spears and halberds, stabbing and knocking down nobles attempting to climb out.
Under the flag representing Donico, dozens of Extraordinary Knights from the Alco Family stood with longbows at their side.
Occasionally, a noble would break through the blockade and climb ashore, only to be shot down by a volley of arrows.
With trembling fingers pointing towards the courtyard, Donico stiffly turned his head, looking at the old lady’s kind and serene face.
The old lady continued walking down without looking back, her gentle voice echoing in Donico’s ear.
"When did they get the illusion they could choose sides?"
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