Chapter 314 : Chapter 314

Chapter 314. I Love My Country More Than Anyone

“Priest! ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍Call a priest! Save me!”

“【Purification ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍Spell】! Who the hell knows 【Purification Spell】?!”

The ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍luxurious reception hall of Redleaf Manor had now become hell on earth.

The ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍air was filled with a choking, bizarre mixture of vomit, blood, and expensive incense.

A ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍second ago, hundreds of core nobles of the Royal Capital had still been fanatically carving up the map of power.

Now, ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍they were like maggots thrown into a pot of boiling oil, rolling, twitching, and struggling in agony.

A marquis proficient in spells endured the twisting pain in his abdomen and tried to cast 【Lesser Purification】 on himself.

But just as his mana gathered, the black blood vessels inside his body burst apart with a roar.

SPURT!

Pitch-black blood sprayed from his seven orifices like a fountain. He convulsed violently twice, and the light in his eyes rapidly dimmed before he fell completely silent.

“It was Sylvia!” A count rolling on the floor screamed with the last of his strength, his eyes filled with despair and venom.

“It must have been that bitch who sent someone to poison us! She wants to kill us all!”

“Your Highness! Run! Protect His Highness!”

Grand Duke Grahaed of the Western Territory, had the strongest constitution.

As a Sixth-Tier Knight who had long guarded the Western Territory against Valeria’s threat, his physical body had been tempered through countless trials.

He was half-kneeling on the floor, his battle aura circulating madly through his body. Golden light flowed over his skin as he tried to suppress the tyrannical poison inside him that was constantly devouring his vitality.

But it was useless.

The poison seemed to possess life. It frantically corroded his battle aura.

The old duke’s vision began to blur. The screams of his colleagues grew weaker and weaker in his ears, gradually replaced by deathly silence. He knew they were all about to die.

He used the last of his strength to raise his head and look toward the main seat.

He wanted to see whether Prince Dorg had also been poisoned. He had to protect their final hope!

His gaze passed through the corpses scattered across the floor and the flowing black blood before finally fixing on Dorg.

In the next instant, Grahaed froze completely in place.

Dorg sat quietly in that high-backed chair.

He did not struggle. He did not vomit blood. Even his face was not any paler than before.

He simply looked silently at the miserable scene covering the floor, his eyes compassionate, yet as cold as a god’s.

Captain of the guards Nevira stood behind him with one hand on her sword hilt, motionless, as though the hellish sight before her were nothing more than a boring play.

A thought more terrifying and absurd than death split open Grahaed’s fading consciousness like lightning.

There had been no assassin.

There had been no poisoning by Sylvia.

“It was... you...”

Grahaed’s voice was hoarse as sandpaper scraping together.

He raised a trembling hand. That hand, which had once been able to crush steel with ease, now shook like a withered leaf in the wind as it pointed at the prince he had supported with everything he had.

“Why...?” Grahaed roared hoarsely.

Along with that roar, mouthfuls of black blood gushed uncontrollably from his mouth and dripped onto the magnificent formalwear on his chest.

“We were helping you! We were helping you ascend the throne! You madman! Madman!”

Dorg picked up the bloodstained handkerchief and leisurely wiped the corner of his mouth, as though he had just finished tasting fine wine.

“Helping me?” Dorg’s voice carried thick mockery as it echoed through the reception hall, which had become hell on earth.

“No. You were helping yourselves.”

“You merely wanted to wait until I died, find an even more obedient puppet, and then continue lying on Astrelia’s body, sucking out its final drop of blood.”

Grahaed panted violently. Black blood vessels had already crawled across his cheeks, and the world in his eyes was rapidly turning dark.

Oak logs crackled inside the fireplace, and the firelight made the oil paintings of the royal family’s past generations flicker between brightness and shadow on the walls.

The former kings in the frames had deep gazes, as though they were silently watching this horrific bloody purge.

They were witnessing the end of a rotten era and the birth of a new one.

On both sides of the long table, those great figures who usually stood high above others and could decide the fate of thousands with a single word were now rolling and struggling on the carpet like the lowest maggots.

Their clothing was disheveled and their faces were twisted. Not the slightest trace of noble dignity remained.

Dorg looked at all of this coldly. His eyes were compassionate and cold, without the slightest ripple.

He slowly stood, stepped forward, and walked down the steps.

His military boots stepped into the sticky pools of blood, producing a viscous sound that made one’s teeth ache. He stopped before a count who was convulsing violently.

“The year before last, the kingdom allocated three million Golden Lion Coins to build a magitech factory in the Western Territory.”

Dorg looked down at him from above, his voice low and suppressed, like thunder on the eve of a storm.

“You laundered that money through an underground bank and used it to cover your family’s losses in overseas trade. In the end, you built only a few broken sheds that did not even have windproof barriers.”

The count’s eyes widened. Strange gurgling sounds came from his throat, and black blood vessels crawled over his entire face, which had twisted in fear.

Dorg ignored his struggles and stepped directly over his body, walking toward another marquis who was still gasping out his last breaths.

An uncontrollable fury began to leap in Dorg’s eyes.

“And you, Deputy Chief of General Staff of the kingdom’s military department.” Dorg’s speech abruptly quickened, and a bone-chilling coldness and killing intent seeped into his tone.

“Three years ago, a mistake appeared in the Thunder Gorge defensive line, and the Valerians’ corps advanced thirty miles.”

“It was clearly you who feared death and ordered the retreat, yet afterward, you pushed a civilian major general with extraordinary command talent, who had fought to the death to hold the rear, onto the military court to take the blame!”

“To protect that fat-covered face of yours, you personally hanged a future famous general of the kingdom, merely because he was a commoner without a backer! Merely because he blocked your nephew’s path to promotion!”

The marquis reached out with a hand he had clawed bloody himself, trying to grab Dorg’s ankle.

Captain of the guards Nevira stepped forward and brought her military boot down hard on the back of his hand.

CRACK!

The sound of shattering bone rang crisp and piercing through the empty reception hall. The marquis let out a shrill, muffled groan and completely passed out.

Dorg stopped walking and abruptly turned around, sweeping his gaze over the entire reception hall.

His chest heaved violently, and the anger he had suppressed for ten years finally erupted completely like a volcano.

“The ones who disgust me most are you people, who call yourselves the noble pillars of the nation!” Dorg pointed at the nobles rolling across the floor and roared hoarsely.

“Seven years ago! When Valeria’s envoy delegation strutted through the Royal Capital, all of you spineless cowards did not even dare to make a sound!”

“The enemy army had only gathered slightly at the border! When facing outsiders, you were like stray dogs wagging your tails and begging for mercy, wishing you could offer the kingdom’s land with both hands!”

“But when facing your own people?!”

Dorg abruptly threw the bloody handkerchief onto the face of a great noble.

“You could mobilize fully armed private soldiers without the slightest hesitation and carry out an indiscriminate massacre on the long street against those unarmed subjects who merely wanted a piece of bread!”

“You strike hard at home and cower abroad! You are a pack of parasites sucking the marrow of the kingdom, yet still trying to dismantle its bones and sell them for money!”

“Cough... cough, cough, cough!” In his fury, Dorg broke into a heart-rending coughing fit, coughing until his hands were covered in blood.

Yet in those deathly gray eyes of his, a terrifying killing intent was now burning.

Did they truly think a few oaths of loyalty would buy them a hundred years of splendor and wealth?!

Astrelia’s illness had already seeped deep into its bones. To cure it, the most poisonous medicine had to be used!

Sylvia was still too conservative!

“It was long past time for Astrelia, this snowfield falcon, to pluck out rotten old feathers like you, decaying and crawling with maggots!”

Dorg spoke softly, as though talking to himself, yet also as though declaring it to the entire kingdom.

He turned around and no longer looked at the corpses on the floor. He slowly walked toward the huge floor-to-ceiling window and looked at the endless gloomy rain outside.

“I have always loved my country. I love it more than anyone.”

“Even if I must bear eternal infamy. Even if my soul can never rest.”

Dorg closed his eyes, and a trace that might have been rainwater or tears slid from the corner of his eye.

“Astrelia will be reborn.”