CHAPTER 147: CHAPTER 145: THE CHANGE IN SPRING PALACE

Imperial Calendar, November 7, 1444, pre-dawn.

Changge City.

On the walls of the Royal Palace, a long line of torches almost illuminated the small world completely bright.

Sparse shadows of trees cast on the withered yellow grass, and the verdant evergreen hedges have already been stained with a few drops of fresh blood.

In the garden square in front of the Spring Palace’s gates, the scent of golden chrysanthemums could no longer be smelled, only a strong stench of blood.

Since the Winter Rebellion a hundred years ago, this is the first time this magnificent Royal Palace has been drenched in blood again.

Since the golden finch fell from the Scales Crown in obscurity, the cold crow from Thornfield Castle has calmly passed down the crown three times.

It seems to be a curse of the Spring Palace: blood on the fourth.

His long hair tangled with sweat, draping over his shoulders, two of the three helmet feathers on his Yingbela helmet already broken.

His lance had long since snapped, and by his side, only just over ten Norn Guard Knights remained, while on the surrounding walls, nearly a hundred elite longbowmen had their arrows trained on them.

The polished arrows reflected nearly a hundred Extraordinary Knights and two hundred axmen and long spearmen in front of Yingbela, and behind those Extraordinary Knights were seven or eight Exorcist level monks.

Further ahead, on the Snow Jade Long Stairs for which the Spring Palace was famed, his brother Ginijis coldly watched this side, accompanied by a Hereditary Priest.

Their faces were half hidden in the dense night, the other half flickering in the firelight.

"You violated the sacred oath!" Yingbela’s roar shook the torches, "How dare you monks involve yourselves in royal affairs!"

After the church bridged the great northern and southern schism, it signed a sacred oath with the three major kingdoms, which still stands at the entrance to the Pope’s Palace.

The marble obelisk is engraved with the blood and tears of the predecessors.

But now, four hundred years later, the wind and rain have gradually worn away the words on the marble obelisk, and people may have long forgotten what a profound lesson that was.

"...Under the gaze of the Holy Father, we unanimously agreed that no extraordinary power from the church should intervene in the royal succession..."

"...If this oath is forsaken, may our souls forever sink into the abyss, our bodies turn to nothingness, and our descendants suffer endless curses forever!"

Ginijis remained expressionless, standing calmly behind the guards, watching his brother summoned by "Father" in the middle of the night.

"This is not a battle for the royal succession," an eloquent attendant stepped forward, "This is a campaign to quell the rebellious prince!"

"I came when summoned!"

"If you came when summoned, why ride a warhorse, wear a helmet, unless there are terrifying bandits on the short path from your manor to the Royal Palace?"

"Ha, doesn’t Ginijis know why I came in armor?" Yingbela glared angrily at the Imperial Knights by the wall, "Betrayers, you’ll descend into the Fire Prison!"

Under his gaze, some of the Imperial Knights dropped their heads in shame, while others fearlessly met his eyes.

The fifty Imperial Guard Knights he brought into the Royal Palace were to protect him from Ginijis’ assassination, but now they appear to be evidence of his crime.

"My brother, my Yingbela, you are too reckless." Ginijis’ voice, augmented by the Breathing Technique, penetrated the air to Yingbela, "As long as you confess, you are still my brother, you could still receive a Count or even a Duke’s title."

"What about Father? Is this Father’s idea?"

"Papa sleeps soundly." Although Ginijis was only about twenty, his voice was incredibly steady, "For Miseria’s sake, you have already broken his heart, so do not disturb his rest any further."

"Ginijis! You’re lying! You deserve death!" Yingbela’s enraged roar was like a storm, a Ninth Rank Breathing Technique Knight’s voice far exceeding the limits of ordinary people.

"If you say so, then so be it, no argument." Ginijis remained in that calm demeanor.

As if he were facing a dead man.

The night wind rustled the leaves, the sound of taut bowstrings was so clear, the warhorses pawing nervously.

Surveying the surroundings, beneath the brilliance of the starry night, behind only the immensely heavy gates of the Royal Palace, in front an army of nearly three hundred people.

Among them a hundred Imperial Knights not inferior to him at all.

"Hahahahahaha——"

Yingbela laughed mockingly, all his Leia Knights had betrayed him.

In the end, only these Norn Knights from his mother’s tribe loyally stood by him.

"Heghlu’meH QaQ jajvam.[In Norn: A good day to die according to the zodiac.]"

With a final battle cry in Norn, Yingbela raised his Knight’s Sword, forming a wedge formation aimed at the hundred Extraordinary Knights ahead.

"no’Daj ghompu’meH jaghmaj yIngeH![Send our enemies to meet their ancestors!]"

Amidst the hoofbeats, the Norn Knights roared mightily and charged towards Ginijis on the steps.

In an instant, the sound of bowstrings twanged repeatedly, and over a hundred arrows covered the knights overhead, the arrows clattering crisply against the White Crystal Steel Armor.

These arrows most often bounced off, at most leaving a white spot on the armor.

Even if an arrow inadvertently lodged in the armor’s gaps, it would be caught in the silk lining and armor padding.

Over a dozen knights, each shot like porcupines, but this did not affect their movement at all, not even slowing their speed.

Firelight danced and flickered over their armor, hooves pounding the ground like urgent drumbeats.

Under Yingbela’s lead, a dozen Extraordinary Knights charged into the ranks of axmen and long spearmen.

In the cramped infantry ranks, the leading few axmen were directly sent flying from the crowd, knocking over several others before sliding a distance on the ground, ultimately convulsing and dying.

The longsword shattered the probing long spears, and Yingbela’s roar shattered the eardrums of three or four in front, his horse leaping forth, crushing soldiers’ heads beneath its hooves.

But as these soldiers used their lives to slow Yingbela and his men’s steps, incantations quietly began to sound.

"Our Ruler of the heavens, whose name is revered as holy..."

"Your power is enacted in the sky, Your will spread on earth..."

In the chants, the seven or eight Exorcist Monks split into two groups, reciting different prayers, their heads lowered, the hood’s shadows obscuring their faces.

Their hands crossed in front, translucent flames rose from their bodies, diffusing forward like mist.

These flames climbed onto the knights’ armor, seeping into their bodies, heavy armor lightened, horses snorted, muscles even slightly enlarged.

Upon close inspection, one could see in the flames the hooves slowly lifted, remarkably an inch from the ground, hollows and stones no longer able to halt their advance.

When Yingbela charged out from the crowd, only ten knights remained at his side.

Those absent were mainly Squire Knights or Square Banner Knights, dragged down by long spears, now engaging in foot combat with soldiers.

"Ginijis, you deserve death!"

Gazing at Ginijis behind the lances, Yingbela roared and urged his steed once more.

His opponents were the glowing-blessed Extraordinary Knights.

To the Blessing Knights glowing with a pristine glow, dust-covered Yingbela appeared utterly solitary.

Nearly a hundred blessed Imperial Knights clashed with eleven Extraordinary Knights, blood instantly turned to a mist of blood, exploding in the air.

No matter how bravely Yingbela swung his Knight’s Sword, he could not stop the dwindling of knights around him, his horse’s pace increasingly slowing.

At last, his helmet fell to the ground, the last long feather already broken.

"My brother, My Yingbela, you were too reckless." Ginijis’ voice, bolstered by the Breathing Technique, pierced the air to reach Yingbela, "If you admit your guilt, you’ll still be my brother, you can still secure a Count or even a Duke’s position."

"Father? Is this Father’s intention?"

"Papa sleeps peacefully." Ginijis, not yet twenty, replied with an unshakeable calm, "For Miseria’s sake, you have already broken his heart, do not disturb his rest again."

"Ginijis! You’re lying! Damn you!" screamed Yingbela in a rage, his voice like a storm, its intensity far beyond what ordinary men could achieve, being a Ninth Rank Breathing Technique Knight.

"If you say it, then so be it, not arguing." Ginijis maintained the same calm demeanor.

As if he was facing a dead man.

The night wind made the leaves rustle, the sound of tense bowstrings was clear, and the warhorse pawed anxiously at the ground.

Looking around, under the splendor of the starlit night, only the heavy gates of the Royal Palace were behind, while in front was an army of nearly three hundred.

Including a hundred Imperial Knights as skilled as he was.

"Hahahahahaha—"

Yingbela laughed mockingly to himself, all his Leia Knights had betrayed him.

In the end, only these Norn Knights from his mother’s people were loyally guarding by his side.

"Heghlu’meH QaQ jajvam.[Norn: Today is a good day to die.]"

With a final battle cry in Norn, Yingbela raised his Knight’s Sword, the last remaining plume on his Yingbela helmet already broken, and with his scattered allies, charged at Ginijis on the steps.

The sound of bowstrings twanged acutely, arrows pinging sharply off the White Crystal Steel Armor as firelight skipped and danced across its surface. Most darts are deflected, caught by silken padding or armament fabrics wedged in gaps.

Over a dozen knights pierced the sky, their war cries cutting through the night. The distinguished Blessing Knights glistening fully in holy light met with eleven extraordinary Knights with blood mist instantly exploding in the air.

"Alas, you are too reckless, my dear Yingbela." Ginijis’ voice, empowered by the Nine-Section Breathing Technique, pierced the night and reached Yingbela, "You remain my brother if you confess your sins, and you can still secure the title of Count or even Duke."

Yingbela, shouldering the helmet stripped of its last plume, glared furiously with eyes like bells, "Traitors, you’ll end up in Fire Prison!"

Caught in his gaze, some of the Imperial Knights lowered their heads in shame, while others met his laser focus unflinchingly.

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