The sack was pulled open.
More than thirty bloodied heads tumbled into the center of the banquet hall, landing with dull thuds.
One wore a hideous expression, its eyes wide open, staring even in death.
The air froze. The entire banquet hall fell silent.
The nobles, boisterous just moments before, seemed to have been paused in place, staring motionlessly at the sight on the floor.
Count Firth stared blankly at the pile of heads and swallowed. "Wh... what is this?!"
The smile on Zachary's face instantly froze, as though a blow to the head had stunned him.
He instinctively stepped half a pace back, his expression turning ugly.
Louis remained calm, as though he had merely brought a few ordinary gifts.
"At White Feather Canyon, we wiped out an elite Snow Oath unit attempting to strike south. Every last one was eliminated. Here are their heads."
Zachary abruptly recovered and forced a sneer through gritted teeth. "Is that all? A few barbarian soldiers' heads were worth holding up His Lordship's banquet?"
His tone was aggressive, as though he had already found a hole in Louis's story.
"Or did you bring these things to pass them off as some great military achievement and bluff your way through?"
Count Firth's face darkened, and he seized the opening with a cold snort. "This is not a military camp. Bringing some bloody rubbish here to show off is utterly improper."
The nobles around them began whispering, eyeing Louis with suspicion and disdain.
"They're fake, aren't they?"
"Calvin's family certainly knows how to put on a show."
Mockery began to spread.
Louis offered no defense. He merely smiled faintly and remained where he stood.
Then Joern strode forward and said angrily, "I saw it with my own eyes!
"Every one of these heads was taken