Meeting

After a series of efforts, Gawain finally entered Silver Castle in the most high-profile manner, under the watchful eyes of everyone.

The poor had no time to pay attention here, the commoners had no inclination to focus here, and the small merchants and citizens would only pay attention to this matter in their spare time. But the nobles – almost every noble who heard the news had been following the progress of this matter from the very beginning.

However, the towering castle walls, adorned with silver foil, stood tall, blocking the vast majority of gazes. Nobles of the middle and lower ranks were not permitted to enter Silver Castle, and their intelligence channels from the upper echelons had been ordered blocked by the King since early morning. They could only watch the grand procession enter the castle, and then discuss the publicly known, not-so-secret information.

The Grand Duchess of the North, Victoria Wilde, had arrived at Silver Castle three days ago.

The Grand Duke of the West, Baldwin Franklin, and the Grand Duke of the East, Silas Lauren, arrived at Silver Castle together an hour ago.

Several advisors and the King's Prime Minister also entered the castle.

The gates had already closed, and no one knew what was happening inside.

Was it a banquet? A secret meeting? An argument? Or even a murder?

Countless eyes were fixed on the castle, noses twitching nervously beneath them, searching for the scent of conspiracy or opportunity. The mouths below the noses opened and closed, generating all sorts of new opinions and rumors – and the listeners were wise enough not to take the overheard information as truth, because until the castle gates reopened, no one knew what a resurrected being from seven hundred years ago would discuss with the current King.

Francis II did not host any bothersome feasts, nor did he meet Gawain in court by "summoning" him. He chose to hold this meeting in the "Oak Hall" next to the council chamber, which was also Gawain's request.

Oak Hall was an ancient place, its existence dating back to the very foundation of Silver Castle seven hundred years ago – at that time, the castle was not yet covered in silver foil, and the name "Silver" was merely because Charles I could not think of a more pleasant name.

As the most seasoned room in this castle, which had undergone countless renovations and reconstructions, Oak Hall was enchanted about four hundred years ago by a powerful court druid to ensure its main timber would remain vibrant forever (in fact, this magic had to be recharged every hundred years).

Although Oak Hall was only a third of the size of the main council chamber, it was the most extraordinary place in the castle due to its small size and age. Only nobles of Count rank or higher were likely to appear in this hall, and only matters that could influence the fate of the kingdom were secretly discussed here.

A round oak table was placed in the center of the hall. The King sat in the position representing "Crown" on the star map. To his right sat his Prime Minister, Aiden, a middle-aged man with thinning hair and deep-set eyes. To his left sat the current Grand Duke of the North, Victoria Wilde. Extending further to the left and right were the Grand Duke of the West, Baldwin Franklin, and the Grand Duke of the East, Silas Lauren. Several other nobles, whose names Gawain couldn't be bothered to remember, sat around the table, while the royal advisors sat in another row of chairs behind the King.

Gawain had only Rebecca by his side.

Amber and Knight Byron were certainly not qualified to participate here, so Gawain had left them at their residence on Number 4 Crown Street – he hadn't even considered bringing Amber to Silver Castle. With that thief lady's professional dedication, she would have scraped off all the silver foil on the outside of the castle.

Except for the Prime Minister and the token group of advisors, everyone present was a descendant of the pioneers who founded Ansu (including Gawain himself, who was a pioneer). This meeting was given extraordinary significance from the very beginning.

As an founding ancestor, Gawain did not need to bow or pay respects to anyone present, so he directly and casually sat down in his seat. Rebecca, beside him, was clearly a bit nervous. The young girl clenched her fists tightly and took several deep breaths before settling down – she then forgot that she was supposed to bow to the King.

But no one would have held it against her in this situation – that's the kind of authority that comes with bringing your guardian to a meeting.

The moment Gawain, dressed in ducal attire and with the Pioneer's Sword at his waist, walked into the room, everyone's eyes turned towards him. Even after this living fossil sat down, those gazes did not recede much. This was quite contrary to noble etiquette, but it was difficult to control: a seven-hundred-year-old figure had just popped out of his coffin and stood before them; who wouldn't stare a little longer?

While staring, many were still pondering the authenticity of Gawain himself – or rather, Francis II's attitude.

At this moment, the old King across the table stood up. His hair was white, and he looked frail, but his regal attire still lent him considerable presence and spirit. He led the three Grand Dukes to their feet, which in turn prompted the other attendees.

Gawain looked at him and listened as he solemnly spoke: "The gods protect Ansu. Seven hundred years later, we are honored to witness firsthand the hero of the pioneering era. We thank you and your generation for your sacrifices and contributions to the continuation of humanity. This land and everyone on it will never forget the great pioneers. Here, I, as a descendant of the Moen Family, and with the descendants of the various pioneers, pay tribute to our ancient hero."

The King bowed his head, and every descendant of the pioneers (including the three Grand Dukes) did the same.

Now, the King had made his stance – the resurrection of Gawain Cecil could be true.

As for whether it was problematic for a king to bow to a duke, there was absolutely no problem. After all, Gawain, who had been dead for seven hundred years, was not just a duke here; he was a symbol. Everyone present bowed several times to the portraits of Gawain Cecil and a host of pioneering ancestors when they visited their graves each year. Now that a life-sized, real person was standing here, was bowing a problem?

But Gawain felt something was off. A second later, he realized it and his expression turned strange: "The last time so many people bowed to me together, I was lying in a coffin..."

Everyone: "..."

The atmosphere in the room became extremely awkward for a moment.

But fortunately, everyone present had weathered many storms (though this particular type of storm was indeed the first they had encountered). They quickly regained their composure and straightened up. The King then smiled and said, "It is customary for younger generations to pay their respects to elders."

Gawain followed suit with a smile. Although outwardly he was several times younger than Francis II, his tone was that of a complete elder: "Although the age difference is quite significant, your excuse-making expression is exactly the same as Charles back then."

Gawain Cecil had also made his statement – Francis II's Moen bloodline could also be true.

After speaking, Gawain and the old King exchanged a smile. It was evident that the latter was particularly relieved, even a little elated.

Everyone present was very intelligent (perhaps with the exception of a certain stubbornly-headed descendant?), extremely adept at analyzing the personality traits of someone's ancestors from a single fart. Therefore, Gawain and Francis II's brief conversation was enough for them to understand the tone of this meeting, and they could also infer – that the King and the ancient Grand Duke had likely reached some level of consensus.

The lady sitting to the King's left seemed to frown slightly, but upon closer inspection, her expression showed no change. However, as the only female Grand Duke among the three, her presence alone made Gawain look at her a few extra times.

She was a woman around thirty years old, mature and beautiful like Heti, but with a much colder and more indifferent demeanor than Heti. She wore a white long dress, a silver fox stole draped over her shoulders, and white silk long gloves, with silver-white curly hair. These made her appear as if she were enveloped in ice and snow. This ice-queen-like beauty was so striking in Oak Hall, fully illustrating one thing – white really does have a high reflectivity.

Francis II's entire left side was brighter than his right...

That was the current Grand Duchess of the North, Victoria Wilde. Gawain matched the information he had hastily memorized with the person before him, while recalling the establishment of the Second Dynasty: it was the Wilde family of the North who had supported a bastard onto the throne.

But it seemed now that the descendants of that bastard were no longer under the control of the Wilde family.

Noticing the gaze from across the table, the "Ice Lady" nodded with a blank expression, likely as a greeting. Gawain waved his hand and said, "You're as expressionless as your ancestor. I told Wilde back then to marry a lively girl from the South to balance out his face, but he wouldn't listen. Now it's affecting his descendants..."

The Grand Duchess of the North's face twitched slightly. Then Gawain turned to the Grand Duke of the West and the Grand Duke of the East, chatted with them about matters related to their ancestors based on his memory, and finally his gaze fell on the empty space between the Prime Minister and the Grand Duchess of the North – there was no chair there.

That was originally the seat of the Cecil Family, but that chair had been removed a hundred years ago. Since then, there were only three Grand Dukes left, and the South of Ansu had no more Grand Dukes. The various levels of nobility directly under the royal family became the ruling group of the South, while the Cecil Family was pushed into the farthest corner.

Noticing where Gawain's gaze was fixed, everyone, including Francis II, couldn't help but hold their breath. The atmosphere seemed to instantly tense up, shifting from the friendly casual chat to the main part of the meeting – the stage of arguing, scolding, and pounding the table.

But Gawain merely glanced there, then a relaxed, natural, even somewhat disdainful smile appeared on his face. He looked at the King across the table and said, "Let's get down to business – next, my descendant, Rebecca Cecil, will explain to you the disaster that occurred in the southern part of the kingdom. Everyone, that is the real trouble."