Chapter 295. All Those Years, and Still Nothing Learned? (1)

Spring had arrived at the Imperial Palace of the Orias Empire. Under a flawless sky, the warm sunlight of the season poured down across the palace grounds, where countless attendants moved with haste and purpose.

"The honored guests are arriving!"

"The conference will begin soon—secure the perimeter thoroughly!"

"Is the banquet preparation complete? Check everything one last time!"

"Be ready for any possible incidents!"

Today marked the long-delayed opening of the Second Continental Peace Summit, postponed by an entire year beyond its original schedule. Since it was the first day of the summit, palace workers were scrambling to finalize preparations for their prestigious guests.

This summit was also a symbolic declaration—that the Orias Empire held dominion over the continent.

Compared to the first summit, which had opened with at least a glimmer of hope, expectations for the second were dismally low.

"Those lunatics who used to fight all the time are gonna start getting along?"

"His Majesty is wasting his energy on nonsense again. Tsk tsk."

"And he's even inviting beastkin we can't understand a word from..."

The intellectual class had long since turned cynical.

Peace was a word that sounded pleasant to the ear, but in truth only existed in ideals. If even neighbors in the same village couldn't get along, how would entire nations be expected to?

Peace was just a convenient excuse, a word people threw around to appear virtuous.

Most scholars believed that Revelio's obsession with such ideals stemmed from his youth—that peace was the sort of fantasy only the young dared to dream about.

After all, the first summit had ended in shouting and fury from various national leaders. It was no surprise that hopes for the second were scraping the bottom of the barrel.

Amid that atmosphere of quiet pessimism, King Gordon II of the Zion Kingdom arrived at the imperial palace with his crown prince in tow. The opulent carriage bearing the royal crest—a proud griffon—came to a slow stop before the palace gates.

"We welcome Your Majesty most sincerely to the imperial palace," a mounted dame said in a calm and elegant voice.

Gordon waved casually and nodded. He said rudely, "Last time I came, the vice-commander of the Imperial Guards greeted me himself. And now they send just a common lady knight?"

His words were barbed, but the dame answered with a gentle smile, "My apologies. The Commander and Vice-Commander are currently at His Majesty's side. In their stead, they've given me orders to serve Your Majesty without the slightest shortcoming."

"I suppose I might have been offended—if the famed flower of the Imperial Guards hadn't come herself. Dame Amy Altura, you've grown even lovelier since our last meeting. Are you still unwilling to accept my proposal?" Gordon asked.

"I'm sorry," Amy said with a light laugh. "Members of the Imperial Guards may not transfer to other orders."

"If you'd agree to be mine, I'd happily play along with this tedious peace charade," Gordon II suggested.

"Your words are appreciated, Your Majesty," Amy replied with a smile.

For a fleeting moment, Gordon II's eyes flickered with crude desire, but Amy ignored it with practiced ease. Instead, she raised her hand and gestured forward.

Creak.

The palace gates opened, and the carriage rolled ahead once more.

Amy kept pace beside it on horseback, her light green hair glowing as it caught the sunlight. The sight of her left the Crown Prince of Zion, Goron, staring in a daze.

He clenched his fists tightly and said, "A knight like her pretending to be all high and mighty... She'd be perfect as one of my concubines."

At that, Gordon gave a smooth, pleased smile, then said, "This, my son, is exactly why Zion has yet to catch up to the empire in strength. If we had real power, we could take anything we wanted."

"Father. I want that woman," Goron declared.

"You've got taste, I'll give you that," Gordon said. "That Amy Altura is indeed a prize worth possessing. But roses like that come with thorns."

"Then we can just cut the thorns off, can't we?" Goron asked.

"To do that, our kingdom's prestige will need to rise—significantly," Gordon answered.

With an air of warmth, King Gordon II passed his wisdom down to his son.

There was only one reason he had agreed to attend this farcical peace summit: To keep the other southern kingdoms in check. Zion, after all, held the largest territory among them.

Though years of war had left much of the kingdom's farmland in ruin, recent developments had greatly improved agricultural output. Moreover, the western reaches of the territory were rich in iron ore and mana stones. With enough time, their national power could absolutely recover.

"I don't know what that young emperor is thinking," Gordon said calmly, "but this situation benefits us."

Thanks to the empire prattling on about peace, Zion was earning valuable time to rebuild. Playing along with this childish game of peace was only necessary until their war-withered strength returned.

Once they had secured a steady food supply from the grain belt and forged a formidable arsenal of weapons, there would be no need to pay heed to the empire. And surely, the other southern kingdoms were thinking the same.

"My son," Gordon said gravely, "there is no such thing as peace in this world."

"I know that well, Father," Goron replied.

"True peace comes only when you crush your enemies underfoot. I thank the heavens that you've taken after me," Gordon said.

Fortunately, his son was the spitting image of himself—both in ambition and in appetite.

A king had to always covet what others possessed—be it wealth, land, or women. What a king desired, he took. That was the law of royalty.

Perhaps the empire was powerful, but rumors had begun to swirl of unrest stirring within.

The Ducal Family of Leston had grown oddly silent. Grand Duke Halo had scarcely made any public appearances, and his sons had followed suit. Even Caron Leston, the famed young hero, had vanished from the world stage three years prior.

Some gossips claimed Caron had suffered a grievous injury during his clash with the Mercenary King, and by now, that rumor had gained considerable weight.

People wondered why else such a rising star would hole up in Azureocean Castle and not reappear.

A cause for celebration for us, truly,

Gordon thought.

As long as the Ducal Family of Leston remained quiet, the empire was no threat at all. Even the current Emperor had only ascended to the throne with the Lestons' support behind him.

If the nobles loyal to the Ducal Family of Leston were to scatter into separate factions, the Emperor's so-called "peace" would crumble like dust.

"Hmm," Gordon chuckled, thoroughly satisfied as he glanced at his son—who was still ogling Amy Altura with vulgar longing.

I will give you a kingdom worthy of your desires,

Gordon thought.

It was a seed that would one day grow into an empire that ruled the entire South. He vowed as much to himself. There were too many people he needed to meet at this summit.

And as the father and son dreamed their separate ambitions, the carriage at last rolled to a stop before a splendid building.

"We have arrived at the main palace," Amy announced in a calm voice.

As the carriage door opened, Gordon stepped out and exhaled lightly. The royal palace of the empire, with its opulent architecture, outshone Zion's own palace by far—but he only smiled.

One day, the palace of Zion would shine just as brilliantly.

"Let's go in," Gordon said.

He had no doubt of it. He would simply bare his fangs once the opportunity arrived.

But what Gordon didn't know was that a mocking smile had crept up on Amy's lips. She thought,

It's today... isn't it?

Looking upon the two pathetic men before her, Amy suppressed the urge to sneer.

This Second Continental Peace Summit wouldn't unfold like the first. Not at all.

Of that, Amy was certain.

Still, as always, she carried out her duty as a knight of the Imperial Guards to the very end.

***

"It has been a while, everyone."

From the seat at the head of the round table, the young Emperor of the Orias Empire, Revelio, welcomed his guests with a bright smile.

The imperial throne atop the stairs remained empty. In its place, a massive round table had been arranged, and Revelio sat not above, but among them—at the foremost seat, as merely the host of the conference, not its ruler.

It was a symbolic gesture. He stood not as the emperor of the empire, but as the facilitator of peace.

The first to respond to Revelio's greeting was Clark, the Sultan of the Pajar Sultanate. Now firmly settled in his reign, Clark smiled gently and bowed his head toward the Emperor, saying, "I'm always grateful that you continue to host such gatherings. I can only hope this meeting might bring true peace to the future of the continent."

"We must ensure that it does," Revelio replied.

Seated around the table was a remarkable assortment of races—humans, giants, elves, dwarves, and even orcs from the Rahal Mountains.

But what stood out compared to the first summit was the direct presence of the regent of the Southern Great Forest.

"Thank you for inviting me, Your Majesty," the elf regent said in a soft, elegant voice.

"I didn't expect you would come in person," Revelio said, pleasantly surprised.

"This summit is meant to decide the fate of the continent. I had no choice but to come. At the time of the first summit, our Mother had only just awakened. It would've been disrespectful to leave her," the regent explained.

"No need to apologize," Revelio said with a warm smile. "The recovery of the World Tree's health is something to be celebrated. We are glad that she is well again."

Those gathered here—the so-called "Caron Cartel," bound together by their allegiance to Caron Leston—exchanged warm greetings and asked after one another's wellbeing. For a brief moment, the meeting room was filled with a pleasant atmosphere.

But it didn't last.

Several kings soon frowned, and Gordon spoke up. "Seems His Majesty hasn't changed at all."

"Oh? And what do you mean by that, King Gordon II?" Revelio asked with a chuckle.

"You keep favoring the non-humans over your fellow men," Gordon said bluntly.

Revelio waved a hand casually and replied, "Surely not. I care for everyone at this table. Now, now, I'm hurt you'd think that. I've always held great interest in the Zion Kingdom."

He responded with the ease of a seasoned politician.

Besides the factions loyal to Caron, the others seated at the round table included the southern kings—Gordon II among them—and two dukes from the Free City Union.

Originally, Revelio had also intended to invite the Pirate Queen, but her attendance had been blocked by the objections of the other monarchs.

The First Continental Peace Summit had produced no meaningful results. As many had predicted, peace hadn't arrived—instead, the conference had merely highlighted how divided they all were.

Even so, the Second Summit had been convened.

The southern kings, in truth, all shared a mindset not unlike Gordon II's.

We just need to buy time to rebuild our kingdoms. Surely the others are thinking the same thing...

There was no peace in their minds—only a waiting game until their military might was restored and war could resume. The empire's talk of peace and their temporary retreat was the perfect window to recover.

The Free City Union thought no differently.

We can't afford to be dragged around by the Pajar Sultanate and the empire. If we build up our navy, the empire will be forced to take us seriously.

Though they were gathered in one place, everyone at the table harbored their own private agendas. It was no exaggeration to call this summit a den of intrigue.

Revelio's gaze slowly drifted from face to face, a subtle smirk curling at the edge of his lips. He thought,

I can practically hear the gears turning in their heads.

Revelio had never considered himself an idealist even once in his life. He was a thoroughbred realist. After all, most of his childhood had been spent in the slums of Thebe.

Peace was just a convenient excuse to him. It was a clean justification to herd all these troublesome beasts into one room.

The way the First Summit had ended was exactly as he'd intended. He'd never once believed they'd cooperate from the start.

"And today," Revelio announced, "I've invited a very special guest."

"A special guest?" someone echoed.

"You'll know when you see him. He should be arriving right about now..." Revelio trailed off as he turned toward the entrance of the main palace.

And right then, a bloodcurdling scream rang out from the entrance. "Argh! Do you even know who I am? You think you can get away with this? You crazy bastard, you'll pay for this!"

King Gordon II's brow twitched. That voice was far too familiar.

But before he could say a word, the attendant announced loudly, "Now entering, Caron Leston of the Ducal Family of Leston!"

All heads turned as a young man strode boldly into the palace hall. His golden hair gleamed under the light, and his clear blue eyes were as piercing as ever. His rolled-up sleeves revealed arms of tightly wound muscle, and in one hand, he was effortlessly lifting someone by the collar.

Face twisted in fury, Caron shouted, "Who the hell raised this punk? What kind of father teaches his son to whisper filth to a proud knight of the Imperial Guards? Whoever's his old man, raise your damn hand now. If no one owns up in five seconds, I'll snap the brat's wrist right here."

It was the Mad Dog of Azureocean Castle.

The one the empire endorsed, and even the palace couldn't rein in...

Caron Leston had returned after three long years.