Chapter 753 - Three Months

Feeling their gazes was more than just that. It wasn't like what one would experience standing before a crowd and being expected to give a well thought out speech.

No… It was far heavier than that. As though the burden of their hopes and dreams had suddenly been settled onto his shoulders, as though he was their light bearer, as though he was their only hope.

It was a different kind of weight, one that would definitely crush the heart and soul of any man unworthy of it all.

Rollan stood down below, holding onto the small, trembling hand of his wife. His blue eyes seemed to pierce through the space between them, landing on Leonel with a burning light, an endless fervor.

He looked from Leonel's face to the bloodied, four meter long spear in his hand. The crimson liquid dripped slowly from its tip, rebounding off of the marbled steps.

The sound, slow and rhythmic, beat along with their hearts.

"This is your choice?" Leonel asked.

In return, silence was all he received.

"Alright, then."

The crowd of commoners erupted, their roars and cheers surging through the small town like a torrential wave. For the first time, the nobles began to feel some fear of their own, none of them daring to so much as peek out from their windows.

**

town in size and

of his prime man. It instead gave him an air of

to reports, he lost his life at the hands of his General. Since then, the town has been gathered beneath the rulership of the General and has even begun to rapidly

defend the border as they're meant to, they've turned their weapons toward the Capital and have been steadily

matter without much of a change in expression. However, the court ministers around him already began to bluster in rage before he, himself, got the chance to

BANG!

fists down on an expensive wood railing. However, considering his stature and power, Leonel wouldn't conclude that he was useless in combat like he had for the other nobles. In

his hands! This

him? Hm? Let him see what the esteemed Mikael the Round

fury over. His title was Mikael the Sturdy, not

and so who it was, his fury

say, Normand the Cuckold. How about you

reclined back in his chair, his feet laying up on a similar wooden railing to the one Mikael slammed. The only difference was that the two were on completely opposite sides of the royal

his nose could be considered to be at the peak of perfection. He was truly a handsome man amongst handsome men. Even though he was slouched and his figure wasn't clear,

blatantly than Mikael had been, Normand didn't react in nearly as enraged a fashion. In fact, he laughed as though the insult

show a range of reactions. Some shook their heads, some ignored the situation entirely, but the majority snickered. It was clear that amongst nobles, Normand wasn't well

his next words proved exactly why that

snatched away by His Majesty at the behest of his favorite son. What can I say? I simply did my duty. It's very amusing, even

funnier? If any one of those 'nobles' you're crying and moping about right now were here, would you even let them lick the dirt

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