CHAPTER 434: TWO CRISIS

As the rumors outside grew increasingly intense, and the previously mysterious Imperial Guards began deploying in batches throughout the city, strictly controlling all entrances and exits of the capital and scrutinizing and registering every person coming and going, the news of Emperor Hibbort’s severe illness had practically become an undeniable fact.

Setting down her porcelain cup, Astrid leaned partially against the desk, her two delicate, slender ankles elegantly crossed, allowing the edge of the desk to press gently against her thighs, leaving faint imprints on the pale skin covered by sheer black stockings.

"The imperial capital’s landscaping has always been excellent. There’s no need to go all the way outside just to enjoy it..."

"If they encounter assassins out there, at such a distant location, even the Imperial Guards won’t be able to help in time."

"I wonder if Lucas is overly confident in his own strength and that of his guards, or if he believes that as an Imperial Prince, no one would dare lay a hand on him."

At this critical moment, leaving the capital, the city with the strongest defenses, and specifically traveling to the suburbs to admire flowers, Crown Prince Lucas was undoubtedly blinded by lust, acting as if he were already the supreme Emperor of the Empire.

Hearing Astrid’s words, Elise fluttered her eyelashes and softly added, "Lord Roast purchased an estate there for family and friends to rest. Moreover, he planted an extensive field of tulips."

April and May were the perfect season for viewing tulips in the imperial capital.

"Most likely, the former is what my lust-driven elder brother values most."

Astrid curved her lips slightly, her tone cold, her palm gently resting beside her hip, pressing down on the silk skirt fanned out like petals.

Many of Prince Lucas’s romantic escapades began precisely with private flower-viewing and tea-drinking sessions between Imperial heirs and noble ladies.

"However, this suits me perfectly." Astrid murmured.

"The more inflated Lucas becomes, the less he’ll perceive the changes around him, growing arrogant and blindly overconfident in his actions."

At this point, compared to Alistair, who was at an absolute disadvantage in political resources and public opinion, it was actually Crown Prince Lucas who required more of Astrid’s attention; she needed to find a way to eliminate him from the line of succession.

In the original novel’s plot, Alistair launched an assassination attempt on Lucas. The relevant timeline should hover around May to June, roughly coinciding with this trip.

Far from the city, within a private estate belonging to a neutral noble, with no outsiders interfering, even if Lucas called for help, the guard units will take over ten minutes to arrive.

If Astrid were to carry out such an act, she would likely choose this very flower-viewing journey as well.

Such a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity was something Alistair couldn’t possibly miss.

In her heart, Astrid already regarded this mission as a murder trap targeting Lucas. Her eyes narrowed slightly, her slender, pale fingers instinctively gripping the edge of the desk.

Just as she was pondering how to remove Lucas from contention, Alistair had already grown impatient and prepared to act first, truly, when one feels sleepy, someone brings a pillow. Everything was falling perfectly into place.

"There’s no need to warn Lucas to be cautious. Let him handle it himself," Astrid said.

Ideally, they would end up mutually destroyed. Then she could step forward and reap the benefits as the bystander.

Elise, without needing Astrid’s instruction, had no intention of doing so either.

"Understood, Miss."

Although she had already deduced that Lucas likely wouldn’t survive past May, reminds how, in the original story, the Crown Prince lingered on the throne for half a month after the assassination attempt before finally dying, Astrid, adhering to the principle of "better safe than sorry," continued reading.

Fifteen minutes later, having fully memorized the entire stack of documents, Astrid glanced at the sky outside the room, then at the white-stockinged little girl sitting at the desk, reading intently.

The situation in the imperial capital was growing increasingly severe. Everyone’s nerves were tightly wound, including hers and Amalia’s.

And this was only the beginning.

"Amalia..."

With power imminent, even Lucas, who believed victory was already in his grasp, sought diversions to relieve stress. How much more than for Astrid, who had been plotting since regaining her memories?

"Yes, Sister?"

Hearing Astrid called her, Amalia, who had been reading, lifted her head. Her two small, white-stockinged feet, even when stretched straight, couldn’t touch the ground, gently swaying. The soft arches of her feet rose and fell like delicate crescent moons reflected on water.

"Would you like to go for a walk outside the palace?" Astrid asked.

There might not be another chance. After Lucas’s assassination, the situation in the imperial capital will undoubtedly grow even more tense; a full city lockdown was entirely possible.

Amalia looked at her sister beside her and obediently closed her book.

"Of course, Sister."

They hadn’t gone out together for quite some time.

Hearing Amalia’s reply, Astrid straightened beside the desk, lightly smoothing the wrinkles at the back of her skirt with her palm, then took the little girl’s hand.

"Then let’s go."

Although she had no experience raising children, Astrid understood the principle of balancing work and rest.

In order to become a qualified emperor, Amalia had recently spent even less time asking for hugs from her, and could only sit on her lap during conversations, expressing her desire for closeness through small physical gestures.

Although nearly eighteen, in certain aspects, she was still like a child.

Feeling the warmth of her sister’s hand, Amalia naturally interlaced her fingers with Astrid’s. Her tender, white-stockinged feet stepped into pure black little leather shoes, lightly stomping a few times to adjust their position and prevent the stockings from wrinkling at the heels.

"Elise, I’m leaving security in your hands."

"Understood, Miss."

After giving the necessary instructions, the group left the bedroom and walked out of the palace into the twilight.

And in the next instant, several birds unfurled their wings, their slender bodies gliding over the city walls, circling high in the air several times before swiftly vanishing.

Elise glanced back. Beyond the towering marble palace spires, a continuous stretch of fiery clouds hung on the horizon, vivid red like blood.

"Did you notice something, Elise?"

Hearing the footsteps behind her pause, Astrid, ever cautious, spoke softly.

"..."

After a moment of silence, Elise slowly replied.

"It might have been my imagination..."

"Just now, it feels like someone was watching us."

That faint sense of being observed had disappeared instantly, not as direct or obvious as a psychic probe.

Has her recent improvement in strength allowed her to notice something she normally wouldn’t have?

Astrid’s clear eyes narrowed slightly as she cast a faint glance in the direction Elise had indicated.

"And now?"

"Reporting, Miss. It’s gone."

"Good."

Most likely, it was the Emperor’s spies.

After discovering Amalia’s disappearance, even for her, his most favored daughter, Hibbort would not allow her to move freely.

Taking a deep breath, Astrid stepped forward with her long legs, pulling the little girl’s hand, choosing to ignore the minor incident and continue walking ahead as if nothing had happened.

After all, her original intention was simply to take Amalia outside for some fresh air.

...................

May 25th. Liya Tower Fortress. The third day since the Church Knights joined the battle. Lyra gazed at the light-elemental particles drifting in the air, her mood sinking steadily.

Three days ago, a group of heavily armored Temple Knights appeared on the front lines. They claimed to be the Temple Knights of the Church of Light, here to spread the grace of the Omnipotent Lord to the Valeria Empire.

Compared to the initial assault forces from the Kingdom of Velys, these individuals greatly surpassed ordinary soldiers. They had countless Master Knights and Magnus, and even a small number of Temple Knights possessed both the physique of warriors and the profound knowledge of mages, wielding swords in one hand and holy light in the other, inflicting tremendous damage on the fortress walls.

The troops under Duke Charles were composed mainly of peak Tower Grand knights and early tier Master Knights. Even the most elite vanguard units only reached the strength of middle tier Master Knight, with Magnus being extremely rare.

Given such a stark disparity in hard power, if this were an open-field battle, the Valeria Empire’s forces would have been annihilated long ago.

They had been able to defend the fortress for so many days thanks in part to its strong walls and elevated position, which kept them out of direct clashes with the Master Knights, and in part to their potent defensive spells and magical weapons, which let them inflict steady damage from a comparatively secure distance.

A single muskete, in the hands of any soldier, could unleash destructive power greater than that of an early tier Sorcerer. Even if one wasn’t enough, two, three, four, arranged in dense rows along the walls, freely firing behind magical barriers, they could still trouble Magnus level Temple Knights.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that without the stockpile of weapons already stored within Liya Tower Fortress, this frontline stronghold, which had held out for over a month, would have fallen yesterday evening.

"Baroness Lyra, Eric’s funeral have been properly handled."

Hearing the guard’s report from behind, Lyra turned her gaze slightly. The soft skin on her face was lightly brushed by the fur on her collar, and her sky-blue pupils flickered with a hint of inner struggle.

Eric was one of the members of her defensive squad, a civilian-born middle tier Sorcerer, a recent graduate of the Elizabeth Magic Academy, and thus her classmate, specializing in earth-elemental magic.

Last night, an arrow imbued with cold killing intent pierced through the magical barrier and struck Eric’s neck. Instantly, blood sprayed everywhere. Not even the healing magic on the battlefield could activate in time. The man, his carotid artery pierced, collapsed at his defensive post, leaving only a low, gurgling rasp from his torn trachea.

This wasn’t the first Valeria Empire soldier to die in the war, but he was the first casualty in Lyra’s squad. Previously, even the most severe injuries could be treated with rapid healing magic, unless they involved irreversible limb loss, they could be cured using life-draining spells.

Only such instantly fatal wounds, leaving no time to gasp for breath, could snatch away life in an instant.

When Lyra received the news, she was still defending the side gate assigned to her by the main commander, unable to visit him immediately. By the time the defense ended and the Kingdom of Velys’s forces temporarily withdrew, the man’s body had already grown cold under the influence of the tundra climate.

Lyra will never forget the sight of that corpse, as rigid as ice, which she saw when her mental energy was nearly exhausted and her head was spinning.

Just two days earlier, they had still been sharing a meal at their outpost, arranging the next phase of combat strategies at the table, discussing that thrilling match from a year and a half ago that had drawn all the academy students to watch, the final showdown between underdog Lyra and the Kingdom of Velys’s princess Iris Kroyd, who had advanced to the finals with overwhelming dominance, a match in which almost no one had believed in Lyra’s chances.

Now, his life has reached its end. All expectations and hopes had turned to dust, forever buried in this frigid land.

Lyra remembered Eric saying that his purpose in entering the Elizabeth Magic Academy was to become an excellent mage, so he could earn money through his magical abilities and support his family financially.

In a sense, his aspirations aligned perfectly with Lyra’s, and even their original motivations for learning magic were identical. Only his talent was slightly inferior, and his luck was poor, he fell at the very moment his dream was about to be realized. If he had survived the war, his middle tier Sorcerer status would have been sufficient to purchase several properties in the Valeria Empire and live out his days in peace.

"I see."

Lyra’s voice was low, her pupils seeming to retain traces of that scene.

But... this wasn’t the time for sorrow...

The defensive position assigned to them by Duke Charles was the relatively safer flank of the walls. If even this area had suffered serious casualties, then the forward defensive units would have experienced even higher fatality rates.

The walls were already scarred, and after repeated magical bombardments, numerous defensive gaps had appeared. Even promptly using repairs earth magic couldn’t restore the intricate magical carvings on the surface. The defensive strength of the garrison forces will only continue to weaken.

Moreover, according to current intelligence, these Temple Knights mixed within the enemy ranks weren’t the main force of the Church Knights. Their primary offensive target was the secondary fortress on Liya Tower Fortress’s flank. The defensive pressure there would undoubtedly be even greater than at Liya Tower Fortress itself; this was evident from the prioritized logistics supply lines.

If Duke Charles didn’t appear soon and allow the defenders’ morale to be gradually eroded, once the two secondary fortresses fell one after another, the next to fall would be Liya Tower Fortress, standing alone.

What was the situation in the capital like...? And why hasn’t that cannon been used yet...

Her gaze settled on the cannon barrel covered in snowflakes. The pink-haired girl frowned deeply, her eyes filled with confusion.

This wasn’t only puzzling to Lyra, but also a lingering question in the minds of many defending soldiers.

Over a month of defensive warfare had yielded no decisive result, and the central cannon was nearly gathering dust from disuse.

Even if a single shot consumed a staggering number of crystal stones, it would still be better than using ordinary lives to block the enemy soldiers’ advance.

At this stage, it was time for it to make its debut.

After prolonged contemplation, feeling she should take some action, Lyra stepped down from the wall, preparing to head to the adjutant’s command room. And in the next instant, as her knight’s boots stepped onto the snow, she felt a faint vibration beneath her feet.

A new assault had begun.