Read Novel Full Chapter 719 - 402: Major and Minor Meetings (3)
Chapter 719 - 402: Major and Minor Meetings (3)
Louis did not greet or preface, directly cutting to the chase: "I know what you’re all worried about. You think I want to turn you into toothless tigers."
He raised his hand, pointed out the window, where three heads frozen stiff by the cold wind hung quietly under the setting sun.
"But think about it, in the face of absolute power, do your so-called teeth really have any significance?"
Louis’s voice was not loud, yet it sent a chill down everyone’s spine: "The Knight Order of those three legion commanders is stronger than each and every one of your houses. Now their heads hang at the gates of Frost Halberd City."
No one dared to argue, for Louis’s absolute military strength was an unquestionable fact, yet it didn’t mean they completely agreed with his words.
Their silence expressed their dissent, the air so still it was almost possible to hear the crackling of firewood in the fireplace.
Just when the oppressive atmosphere was reaching the point of dripping with tension, Viscount Yorn made his appearance once again.
He glanced at all the Nobility present: "Over the years in the Northern Territory, which of the lands seated here has not received Lord Louis’s assistance? Food, craftsmen, weapons, military equipment, trade routes... which has not been supported by him?"
Several old Nobility twitched their eyelids, yet still maintained silence.
Yorn remained calm, yet his words hit the mark with precision: "Think about it, all these years, what have you gained by following the Empire? What have you exchanged for?"
He extended his hand, pointing to Louis on the main seat: "But following Lord Louis, each one of you has eaten more meat over the past ten years than before."
The crowd was speechless.
Yorn’s voice grew more determined: "Every decision made by Lord Louis is clearer than any of us.
Rebuilding Frost Halberd City, opening up trade routes to the South, developing winter granaries, unifying Northern Territory’s security, exterminating the Ackman corps — were any not the right moves?"
As Yorn finished speaking, the gaze of every old Nobility from the Northern Territory was almost simultaneously fixed on Count Albert.
This silent old man was the balance of the entire Northern Territory, Duke Edmund’s right hand, a symbol of the old Northern Territory.
As long as he did not nod, this alliance could never truly be established.
Albert slowly put down his wine glass, his cane lightly touching the ground, emitting a muffled sound.
His eyes, weathered by snow and frost, were lifted, sharp enough to pierce the human soul: "Lord Louis, we respect your military might and are grateful for your extermination of Ackman."
He paused, his tone carrying the unique stubbornness of the North: "However, the tradition of the Northern Territory is for each household to care for its own troubles. Binding us together... is it not just for defense?"
If anyone else had said this, it would be a provocation. But from Albert’s lips, it was more of a necessary confirmation.
The other Nobility held their breath, awaiting Louis’s answer.
Louis smiled.
He walked slowly to the side of the wall, gently tapped the table with the back of his hand.
Bradley immediately understood, and pulled down the heavy velvet curtain.
The moment the curtain fell, the great Nobility collectively gasped.
What greeted their sight was an Empire strategic map covering the entire wall.
Louis picked up a pointer, striking it on the vast area south of Gray Stone Fortress with a "pa" sound.
"The Count asks a good question." Louis turned around, for a moment, his eyes seemed to burn with an uncontainable fire.
"If it were only to defend this small plot of land, I indeed wouldn’t need to do this."
He raised his hand, slowly sweeping across the map, his voice deep and powerful: "But the Regent King is dead, the Empire is in chaos. The gate that locked the Northern Territory for hundreds of years, Gray Stone Fortress, has already been blasted open by me."
He suddenly leaned forward, close to the table, his tone becoming as fiery as flames: "Gentlemen, do you really want to shrink for a lifetime in this icy wasteland?
Don’t you want to go to the warm winds of the South, seize a few vineyards? Don’t you want to occupy several non-freezing ports? Do you not wish for your children to grow up in the sunlight instead of freezing to death in the blizzard?"
These words were indeed rebellious, impossible to say to all the Nobility of the Northern Territory, but Louis was confident that no one in this secret chamber would leak the conversation.
And these words struck like lightning, fiercely clashing in the heart of everyone present.
Count Albert’s murky old eyes suddenly shone astonishingly bright, murmuring: "When Duke Edmund was alive... we also thought of heading south.
But Duke Edmund was too... noble. He adhered strictly to the oath of the guardian, unwilling to be drawn into intra-empire strife. Furthermore, at that time, Gray Stone Fortress still stood in the way, a natural barrier."
Albert slowly stood up, as if his entire being was reignited like a torch.
He suddenly raised his wine glass high: "The Albert Clan’s trade line to the South has been strangled for twenty years! I am fed up with groveling to the Southern folks!"
The glass was raised higher, his voice shook the entire strategic room: "If your target is the South, then the knights of the Albert Clan are willing to lead the charge!!"
At this moment, the air in the room trembled.
With the leader Albert siding with Louis, the remaining Nobility’s dissatisfaction over power being seized instantly vanished.
Replacing it was a boundless longing for the fertile lands of the South, the warm wind, and for wealth and glory.
Excited debates erupted within the room:
"How much does Southern wine sell for each year?"
"Non-freezing ports... that is a treasured dreamland!"
"If we can go south, even dying on the way would be worth it!"
Louis gestured, the commotion gradually quieted down.
His voice was clear and calm, yet brimming with a confidence that calmed the soul: "War is not a game, heading south requires the right timing. If you trust me, then I will lead the Northern Territory to strike at the most opportune moment."
This sentence served like the anchor of the sea god, instantly settling all anxious hearts.
For they all knew, since Louis’s rise, be it against the Nest, the Barbarian Race, or the Corps, there hasn’t been a campaign or decision that failed.
He excelled at waiting for the perfect timing, as well as striking with full force once the moment arrived.
With the details settled, everyone raised crystal glasses:
"For the Northern Territory!"
"For a new future!"
"For the Southern vineyards!"
The sound of clinking glasses echoed within the secret chamber, clear and melodious, as if prematurely celebrating the victory soon to come.
At this moment, the war machine of the Northern Territory, under the command of Louis, began to operate, while the South was undergoing a tremendous turmoil.