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.

**

in a distant city that dwarfed the small town in size and stature, a man with a greying beard sat upon a throne, listening to

greying, rather than giving him the look of an old, out of his prime man. It instead gave him an air of wisdom and confidence, even bolstering his looks to a level that could only be matched by other refined middle-aged

been confirmed. According to reports, he lost his life at the hands of his General. Since then, the town has

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

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

BANG!

power, Leonel wouldn't conclude that he was useless in combat like he had for the other nobles. In fact, this man

much noble blood is on his hands!

Hm? Let him see what the esteemed Mikael the Round

His title was Mikael the Sturdy, not Round. It was clear that someone

who it

say, Normand the Cuckold. How about you come over here and do it

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

shape of his jaw to the outline of his nose could be considered to be at the peak of perfection. He was truly a handsome man

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

knew the story behind this could only show a range of reactions. Some shook their heads, some ignored the situation entirely, but the

proved exactly why that

His Majesty at the behest of his favorite son. What can I say? I simply did my

of those 'nobles' you're crying and moping about right now were here, would you even let them lick the dirt off the sole of your boots?

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