Chapter 308 : Chapter 308

Chapter 308. A Feint in the Open, a Hidden Move in the Dark

“As ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍solid as iron?” Sylvia sneered.

“Can ‍​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍those private soldiers of yours, dressed like iron cans and waving longswords, withstand a magical volley from Valeria’s Combat Mages? Once the defensive line collapses, the Royal Capital’s gates will be wide open. Can you bear that responsibility?”

The ‍​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍old duke’s beard trembled with rage. He turned to look at Dorg and protested loudly:

“Your ‍​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍Highness the First Prince! Listen to what she is saying!”

“The ‍​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍Western Territory defensive line is a barrier forged with the blood of generations of the Grahaed family! We will never allow the Northern Territory’s army to set foot there, not even half a step! This violates the rules!”

He ‍​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍anxiously waited for Dorg to step forward and refute his younger sister’s arrogant and rude proposal.

After all, he was His Highness Dorg’s most steadfast and loyal supporter!

The tens of thousands of soldiers in the Western Territory were also the most important bargaining chip for His Highness’s future ascension to the throne!

However, Dorg did not answer immediately.

He merely lowered his eyes and quietly watched the few tea leaves rising and sinking in the clear tea inside his cup.

His pale, slender fingers unconsciously rubbed the warm cup wall, as if polishing some precise plan.

Grahaed... was too old.

So old that only stubborn attachment to his family’s former glory remained in his mind, along with a rigid greed for that pitiful bit of territorial power.

A living fossil on the verge of death.

In Dorg’s mind, the face of the old duke’s second son, who had always been marginalized by the family, flashed past—Simov.

That was an interesting young man.

Ambitious, ruthless, and as sharp as an eagle when judging the situation.

Compared with his father’s foolish and rigid “loyalty,” Simov’s undisguised desire was what truly possessed value.

The two of them had once had a very pleasant conversation.

Dorg drew back his wandering thoughts and slowly set down his teacup. His bony fingers lightly tapped the table twice.

“Sylvia has a point.”

That simple sentence struck the excited old duke like a basin of ice water poured over his head, instantly leaving him frozen in place.

Dorg turned his gaze toward him. His tone remained even, but it carried a decisiveness that brooked no argument.

“Valeria’s army is pressing on the border, and the kingdom is facing a national crisis. The Northern Legion’s magitech firepower is indeed the best choice to fill the gap in Thunder Gorge’s defensive line.”

“Your Highness!” The old duke was about to refute him anxiously again, but Dorg raised a hand and precisely cut off every word he had been about to say.

“However,” Dorg changed direction. A meaningful expression that was difficult to read surfaced on his sickly pale face.

“Since this is a joint defense, relying on the Northern Legion alone may not be enough to reassure the soldiers stationed in the Western Territory.”

He paused, and his voice lowered, as if he were offering a considerate solution.

“I will transfer two full-strength elite infantry regiments from my Royal Guard, personally commanded by someone I trust most, and have them march to Thunder Gorge together with the Northern Legion.”

“They will serve as the central command, balancing all sides from the middle, so as to prevent... unnecessary trouble from arising.”

As he spoke, Dorg tilted his head slightly and gave the old duke a soothing look filled with implication.

That look seemed to say: Do not worry. My people will keep an eye on her.

The fierce protest that had already risen to the old duke’s throat was instantly swallowed back down.

After thinking for a moment, the taut muscles on his face immediately relaxed, and he revealed a look of understanding.

His Highness was making a feint in the open while secretly moving in the dark!

On the surface, he was agreeing to allow the Northern Legion to station troops there, but in reality, he was sending the Royal Capital’s army to keep watch on Sylvia and counterbalance her, while also seizing control of logistics.

In that case, the Northern Territory’s army would not be able to stir up much trouble in the Western Territory, and control over the Western Territory would remain secure.

After figuring this out, the anger on the old duke’s face vanished without a trace. He showed no dissatisfaction at all. Instead, he nodded respectfully.

“Your Highness the First Prince is truly farsighted. This old minister admires you deeply! It is just that... since Your Highness is willing to transfer your precious Royal Guard for the sake of the Western Territory’s defenses, will the defenses around you not become empty?”

“This old minister begs you to immediately transfer the Western Territory’s elite ‘Iron Griffon’ Knight Order into the Royal Capital to personally protect your safety!”

“Cough... cough, cough, cough!”

Dorg suddenly broke into a violent bout of coughing. He coughed so hard that it sounded as if his lungs were about to be torn out. The attendant beside him hurriedly handed him warm water.

After he finally caught his breath, he waved weakly, but his expression abruptly turned solemn.

“Nonsense! Valeria may launch an all-out attack at any time. Thunder Gorge will bear the brunt of it. Not a single soldier on the border may be moved without authorization!”

“The Royal Capital still has the Royal Guard. I am very safe. In a national crisis, resisting foreign enemies is the first priority. We must never sacrifice public duty for private reasons!”

“But Your Highness...” The old duke still wanted to show his loyalty.

“Duke Grahaed.” Dorg gently interrupted him, his tone carrying flawless sincerity and reliance.

“The Privy Council ten days from now concerns the true future of the kingdom. It is also the most critical moment for deciding who the throne will belong to.”

“You are the stabilizing pillar of the Western Territory. You are experienced and highly respected. At a crucial moment like this, how could I lack your support and wisdom at my side?”

These words were like a spring breeze, and the old duke found them extremely pleasing.

The old man secretly thought that this was indeed true. Establishing a new king was the peak confrontation in the redivision of the power structure.

As one of the leaders of the old nobles, he had to personally remain in the Royal Capital and secure the greatest political benefits for his family.

If he returned to the Western Territory for the sake of defense at a time like this, he would instead miss a heaven-sent opportunity to seize power at the center.

“As for the Western Territory’s defenses...” Dorg coughed softly twice and lifted his teacup to moisten his throat. His tone was so casual that it sounded as if he were discussing the most natural household matter.

“Since you must remain in the Royal Capital to assist me, someone still has to shoulder the burden at the border. I think we can leave it to your son to manage on your behalf.”

“Young people should gain more experience. It will also allow him to share your worries sooner while the kingdom faces this national crisis.”

The old duke nodded in deep agreement, and the last trace of doubt in his heart scattered like smoke.

If he remained in the Royal Capital, the Western Territory’s military affairs naturally had to be handled by someone from his own family.

His Highness Dorg’s arrangement was reasonable and proper. Not only had he sent troops to help him counterbalance the Northern Territory, but he had also tacitly allowed the Western Territory’s military authority to remain in the Grahaed family’s hands.

In his view, the “son” His Highness mentioned naturally referred to his steady and dignified eldest son, Kashido, who had always been raised as the heir.

“Your Highness has considered everything thoroughly. This old minister will remember it in his heart and will certainly assist Your Highness with all his strength at the Privy Council.” The old duke lowered his head in satisfaction.

The meeting ended.

Sylvia watched Dorg’s thin back as he left with the support of his attendants. Her silver-gray eyes narrowed slightly, and a barely noticeable strange glint flashed through them.