Free Web NovelChapter 274: Lyon's Collapse
[Megaman Tiga: Friends, I've just suborned Lyon's High Inquisitor.]
No sooner had Ambrose sent the message than the first reply came. Shockingly, the first to respond wasn't the dwarf vampire Heki Stone, but the usually taciturn Black Rose.
[Black Rose: What are you even talking about? James Watson, turning against Lyon? I can't make sense of your statement at all.]
Before Ambrose could explain, the others unanimously expressed their disbelief.
[Dullahan's Crown: Bro, I'm usually your biggest supporter, but this is too much. It's even more outrageous than when you claimed a whole squad of paladins knelt to you!]
[Poet: I've woken up to find the world growing more entertaining by the day. I've never had a friend who could brag as much as you can.]
[Mute: That's a bit much. I don't buy it.]
[Non-Vegetarian: Is this how you all usually chat? I've been asleep too long. I can't keep up anymore.]
[Human-Hater: Exactly what I was going to say. Go on, keep bragging. Might as well say the High Inquisitor of Lyon knelt before you in tears, proclaiming he'd found his true master.]
[Megaman Tiga uploaded a video.]
The chat fell into a brief lull. Then, Heki Stone began spamming "******".
It took several hundred messages before he had enough. [Heki Stone: Damn it, that was my research! How could you take advantage of me like that?! This is plagiarism, you shameless lich!]
Ambrose chuckled and replied, [Megaman Tiga: As you know, the desert dwarves don't recognize copyright, and we're neighbors on dwarven land, after all.]
Heki Stone didn't respond again. Whether his rage had caused him to faint or to tear up his Necromantic Codex, no one knew.
After watching the footage, nearly every member of the Elegiac Society expressed their shock.
The most excited, by far, was Black Rose.
[Black Rose: You actually made him consider betraying Lyon? You really are a genius! The moment something goes wrong in Lyon, his first instinct won't be to preserve stability, but to deal with the royal family! I've worked at this for years to no avail, but just a few words from you and...]
She could hardly contain herself. No longer reclining gracefully on her velvet chaise, Black Rose began pacing back and forth, too agitated to sit still.
Years ago, Black Rose had tried to assault Lyon's capital. She had failed. The unity the people of Lyon had displayed left a deep impression on her. She believed that they were a group of fanatics who would charge forward at the cry of "For the Holy Light!" without fear of death.
If not for their stubborn resistance, the capital would have fallen long before the Silvermoon Knight returned.
But Ambrose had managed to crack that unity, and against no less than the High Inquisitor himself. Even a seed of doubt in such a pivotal figure could become a decisive factor in Lyon's eventual downfall.
Incredible. How had this lich managed it?
Even after watching the recording, she doubted she could replicate it herself.
The older members of the society were witnessing for the first time just how terrifying Ambrose's manipulation truly was: how he could distort facts and make others accept that a lich was acting in Lyon's best interests.
[Poet: I almost feel inspired to compose a poem for you, one that will be sung for a thousand years.]
[Megaman Tiga: Really? That'd be much appreciated.]
Fame had its perks. The bigger his reputation, the more brand value his products would carry.
If everyone knew he was the lich even Lyon revered, he could double the price of his alchemical goods.
[Poet: I've got the opening line already: O old man blessed by the Holy Light, why do you kneel before a lich?
Has the Lord of Dawn strayed, or has your sacred light turned foul?]
...The chat fell into an awkward silence.
Even Ambrose, who knew nothing about poetry, could tell it was terrible. It sounded less like an epic and more like a crude joke.
[Megaman Tiga: Senior, take your time with that poem. There's no rush. Let's get back to the main topic: Lyon. Do we sit back and watch, or give them a push?]
Black Rose would have loved to fan the flames further, but she lacked operatives within Lyon. The Umbral Depths had only recently stabilized after a period of chaos, and she couldn't spare the resources for instigation.
As for the other undead, they bore no deep grudges against Lyon. And Lyon had no authority over beings of their level, demigods and beyond. Most opted to simply watch the show.
Ambrose agreed. Though he hadn't managed to sell the heroic spirit of Arthur Lyon for a good price, he had uncovered Lyon's greatest secret: the Dragon Tyrant was reawakening, and the empire was rotting from within.
James Watson might have refused to steal the Draconic Armaments, but human minds were strange things. Tell someone not to imagine a pink elephant, and they inevitably will.
Once he returned, James Watson would surely investigate the Draconic Armaments and eventually find a way to destroy or remove them. His refusal to cooperate was only verbal.
All Ambrose needed was patience. Given time, Lyon would change. And when it did, approaching the High Inquisitor again might just secure him the Draconic Armaments.
With the Silvermoon Knight gone, the Draconic Armaments in hand, and the backing of the Elegiac Society... who could threaten him then?
Seeing the group's lack of enthusiasm, Black Rose turned to Ambrose. [Black Rose: Where do you think Lyon's most likely to crack?]
Ambrose thought for a moment, then replied, [Megaman Tiga: Either on the war front against the orcs or the tiflings. My guess? The orc front will break first, and soon enough, at that.]
While the undead debated Lyon's potential collapse, far away in the orcish mountains, Allen was locked in battle atop a sheer peak against more than a dozen orc warriors.
His swordsmanship had changed drastically. Once rigid and methodical, it was now fluid and unpredictable. Each strike seemed inspired.
His blade of Holy Light intercepted attacks at impossible angles. After just a few clashes, the orcs' weapons shattered one after another.
The disparity wasn't just due to Allen's growth. Rather, these orcs weren't legendary warriors.
They were a suicide squad that had been sent to scale the cliffs in secret to infiltrate the city and sabotage its defensive magic arrays. By the time Allen found them, two had already slipped and fallen to their deaths.
Unfortunately for them, they had run into a paladin who preferred wandering through the desolate outskirts rather than staying within the city walls.
Even after being discovered, they had rushed up the cliffs and charged him without hesitation.
Allen broke their weapons and brought them all down with ease.
Yet even with shattered bones and ruined bodies, the orcs, eyes bloodshot, continued to charge, determined to leave even a single wound on him before dying.
Watching them, Allen was reminded of his own charge against that lich.
That same fearless resolve, that same futility...
Courage could grant strength, but it meant little before an overwhelming gap in power.
They were struck down again, this time too injured to rise.
"You don't have to die here," Allen said. "Your parents must be waiting for you to come home."
From the fallen orcs came a furious roar. "My parents died protecting this city! Kill me if you dare! I'll return to my god's embrace and wait for you invaders in hell!"
Allen's sword trembled slightly, then returned to its sheath.
He did not look at the enraged orcs again. Instead, he raised his gaze to the sky.
Thunderclouds churned endlessly, blotting out the sun. He watched the flickering lightning for a long moment, until an orc suddenly lunged at him.
Allen struck, but this time with his sheathed blade.
The orc was sent flying, yet his injuries had scarcely worsened. The blow had been just precise enough to knock him away and nothing more.
Allen lowered his gaze. "Others will be here soon. Leave now while you still can."
As he spoke, beams of holy light descended upon the orcs, healing much of their grievous wounds.
The orcs stared at Allen in shock, unable to understand why he would heal his enemies.
"Go," Allen urged. "Don't think this means you can beat me. The outcome won't change."
They hesitated until the blare of Lyon's horns echoed in the distance. The raid had failed.
"Don't think this will redeem you!"
With that, they leapt from the cliff. Gliding hides unfurled in midair, carrying them away.
By the time the other paladins arrived, only traces of blood remained.
A towering paladin demanded, "Allen, was that an orc raid?"
Allen nodded. "Yes. I drove them back."
"Drove them back?" the man snapped. "You let them go on purpose. This isn't the first time, Allen. Are you trying to betray your country?!"
Faced with that accusation, Allen sighed. "General, I'd like to leave."
