Dungeon Of Pride, Laplace - Chapter 911: Simon's Call and the Unknown Enemy

Simon wanted to find out if he was worthy of becoming the figure that everyone in the dungeon respected and revered so much. It was his way of not making anyone worried.

Irene did not speak any further and silently observed the figure of the demon slowly dive into the pond.

A proud man who would silently endure all the rain and storms in the world rather than make his close ones worried.

.

.

At the same time as the battle in the dungeon was reaching its conclusion, the situation in the capital, where Annette and the other maids were stationed, had also settled into an uneasy calm.

The air above the capital was thick with tension, not from the remnants of Blackthorn’s invasion, but from the iron-fisted authority that had swiftly taken hold of the kingdom under the new queen, Cynthia.

The flames of war had barely been extinguished before Cynthia, like a force of nature, moved with unprecedented speed and decisiveness, reshaping the kingdom in her image.

Before the embers of the conflict with Blackthorn had even cooled, she seized control of the kingdom like a tsunami. Her approach was starkly different from her father, the previous king, whose rule had been marked by a more lenient, almost benevolent hand.

Under his reign, the nobles had grown complacent, their power unchecked, and their loyalty wavering. This led to the disaster that could be seen and felt in the kingdom ravaged by war today.

However, Cynthia was not her father. The war had changed her in ways that no one could have anticipated—turning her into a ruler who understood that mercy was often mistaken for weakness, and that to secure her throne, she needed to act with unyielding authority.

“Long live the queen”…

“Long live the queen”

Inside the palace which was still left intact after the war, a large gathering of crowd could be seen assembled inside the throne room.

Dressed in noble and exquisite clothing, they were the nobles of the kingdom of Ellesmere. Usually, when in attendance in the throne room they would always form factions, try to advance their political schemes or drag somebody down.

It had always been like this, the nobles were always divided and only cared about their own interest. However, with Cynthia’s rise in power, everything changed.

The fragmented nobility which had long been a thorn in the kingdom’s side were exposed of their treachery. Some houses which had openly or secretly collaborated were all executed at the stake.

Even the ones whose loyalty wavered towards the throne, Cynthia didn’t spare them. With a cold, calculating mind, she moved against them with precision.

Nobles who had once held sway over the court found themselves stripped of their titles and lands. Those who had conspired against her father or shown even a hint of disloyalty were swiftly dealt with—imprisoned or executed, their fates serving as an example of the cost of treachery.

Her rule was absolute and no one questioned her power after the war.

Cynthia glanced at the nobles bowing their heads in fear and awe in the throne room. Her posture was straight and her dignity majestic.

The war had changed her in ways that even she couldn’t have anticipated—turning her into a ruler who ruled with a n iron fist. She was no longer that weak princess who could only be pushed around and used as a political pawn by her siblings. She summoned the nobles to the capital, ostensibly to discuss the kingdom’s recovery in the wake of the war.

Even today many new nobles or their descendants from various parts of the kingdom, have gathered here. However, what awaited them was not a council, but a tribunal.

In the grand hall where her father had once held court, Cynthia presided over the proceedings with a steely gaze. There was no room for negotiation, no room for debate.

“Baron Lucius Martin, you have been suspected of arms dealing, leaking intelligence, and drug trafficking to the nearby kingdom of Golf. The witnesses who presented the information were none other than your own butlers and partners in these dealings.”

“These crimes laid before you are severe—treasonous, even. They are betrayals not just against the crown, but against the very people you swore to protect and serve. It has also directly endangered the kingdom”

“Baron Lucius Martin, do you have anything to say in your defence? The benevolent queen is willing to hear you and give you a last chance”

The chancellor standing a step below by the queen’s side read out the charges against one of the nobles gathered in this audience today.

Baron Lucius Martin a middle aged man in his early thirties stood before her, his face pale, his hands trembling slightly.

“Your Majesty,” he began, his voice wavering “I… I assure you, these accusations are unfounded. I have always been loyal to the crown. These witnesses… they must be mistaken or have been coerced into lying. My dealings have always been in the best interest of the kingdom.”

“Is that so, Baron Lucius?” Cynthia’s gaze remained steady, her expression unreadable.

“You say that yet these witnesses—your own butlers and partners—have provided detailed accounts of your actions. They have described in great detail the shipments of arms, the secret meetings with agents from Golf, and the exchange of illicit goods. Do you deny that these events took place?”…

“I do, Your Majesty, these are fabrications, lies spread to frame me. I would never betray my kingdom. My loyalty has always been with the crown.”…

“Loyalty?” hearing that, Cynthia’s lips curved into a small, humourless smile.

“Baron? Do you speak of the same loyalty that drives a man to sell weapons to our enemies? To trade in substances that poison our people? Where was your loyalty when my father was in the danger of being poisoned by the same substances you trafficked in the kingdom?”.

With a tone laced with icy detachment, she turned towards the Chancellor. It was now not a state secret that the previous king, the queen’s father was killed by some poison.