“Your Majesty, the road to the palace is clear. This city is yours!”
Iron Axe knelt before Roland, his face filled with excitement.
The battle had lasted from yesterday until this morning. After breaking through the city gates, the First Army took only two hours to complete two major operational objectives: seizing the inner city palace and the East District Cathedral. What followed was the suppression of the enemy, completely extinguishing the resistance of Timothy.
Roland looked around and noticed the same excited expression on everyone's face. Whether it was the soldiers of the First Army or the witches, their high spirits were about to overflow. If he hadn't yet expressed his position, they probably would have cheered already. After Timothy was overthrown, even without a coronation ceremony, they already saw him as the true King of Graycastle in their hearts.
However, his mood was unexpectedly calm.
This "magnificent capital" representing the heart of Graycastle did not resonate with him, nor did he feel a sense of returning to his homeland. In Roland's eyes, it was just an ordinary city, with a development priority even lower than Longsong Stronghold. Its only significance was that the farce of the throne dispute had finally come to an end, and he could focus on developing his own territory.
Of course, victory was still victory, especially such a thorough and satisfying one. He believed the news of the change of hands in the capital would soon spread throughout the kingdom, and his prestige and reputation would reach a new level. This would greatly benefit the recruitment of talent and the promotion of reforms in the future. With this, the spring offensive plan, which had been prepared for more than four months, was mostly completed. Now, only the south remained... Roland couldn't help but turn his gaze towards the Fallen Dragon Ridge and the far southern region. That was the place he truly needed to take.
He took a deep breath, interrupted his thoughts, and said loudly, "We enter the city!"
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Iron Axe stood up respectfully and ordered the waiting soldiers who had long been eager, "Two columns, protect your new king, move out!"
The soldiers raised their weapons in unison and shouted, "Long live the King of Wimbledon!"
“Long live His Majesty the King!”
Amidst the cheers and shouts of the First Army, Roland stepped off the warship and headed towards the palace.
...
Passing through the city gate, the streets were deserted, with hardly any people in sight. The ground still bore the traces of the battle, especially closer to the palace.
The inner city area was filled with damaged houses, uncleaned roadblocks, severed limbs, and bloodstains. Without a doubt, although the process of seizing the palace was short, it was still the most intense battle the First Army had experienced since its establishment.
Looking at the ruined walls on both sides of the street, Roland couldn't help but feel a little heartache. The exact number of casualties had not yet been tallied, but the bodies of more than twenty soldiers of the First Army had already been transported to the rear. This was thanks to Nana's timely rescue. Without the little girl's help, this number would have been at least three times higher.
Stepping into the palace district, the soldiers stationed there knelt on one knee, forming two neat rows along the road leading to the palace—a rare sight in the First Army, where military salutes had already become widespread. Roland did not stop them, and he could see from their excited expressions that these people were not welcoming him as members of the army, but as citizens of Graycastle paying tribute to their new king.
Passing through the lush gardens, the images in his memory instantly merged with everything around him—three bluestone buildings arranged in a triangular shape around the flowing water garden, forming the territory where the Wimbledon family had lived for generations. To the left was the Sky Dome Hall, used for banquets or ceremonies, but it had now been destroyed by a cruise missile, leaving only dozens of thick stone pillars standing upright. To the right were the City Hall and the Library, which were currently guarded by the First Army.
And in the middle was the most magnificent Twin Tower Temple, its structure similar to that of later high-rise buildings. The base was an oval-shaped three-story podium, larger than the Border Town castle district. On either side of the podium were two protruding towers, one topped with a crown, and the other with a tiara, symbolizing the supreme authority of the Graycastle royal family. In the center of the Twin Towers were two crossed iron chains, representing the twin guns on the family crest. Whether in terms of shape or design concept, it was an outstanding work that would be passed down for generations.
Following the guidance of the fragments in his mind, Roland stepped up the hundred-odd curved steps and walked into the temple—this experience was very strange. Although it was his first time here, he recognized every room and every corridor. In the main hall, in addition to the soldiers guarding the area with guns, there was a group of frightened nobles. Seeing Roland appear, they all knelt down and welcomed his arrival in unison.
“Rise.”
Roland sat on the throne without any pretense and looked down at everyone.
Among these nobles, he saw several familiar faces.
For example, Minister of Finance Lauren. Moore, Minister of Foreign Affairs Brint. Feline, Minister of Law Pai Law, Chief of Intelligence Marshall, Grand Preceptor Duke Week, and so on.
These people were all courtiers who had served Wimbledon III. Some of their families could even be traced back to the founding of the Wimbledon family. When Timothy. Wimbledon took the throne, these people all turned to the new king. Now, they were obviously planning to continue the tradition and pledge allegiance to him.
Unfortunately, he didn't need them.
This was not a court meeting, but a trial.
“Timothy. Wimbledon is suspected of murdering Prince Garon, treason and rebellion, and colluding with the Church. He has now been detained, and severe punishment awaits him. Soon, his crimes will be spread throughout the city and even the kingdom. Do you have anything to say?”
“These crimes are unforgivable. I tried to dissuade him, but to no avail,” Duke Week took the lead in speaking. “You have overthrown the dark clouds hanging over Graycastle, Your Majesty.”
The other nobles echoed.
“Is that so?” Roland asked with a sneer, “Then when he committed these heinous crimes, were you standing by or helping him? Don’t tell me that you just talked about it and that was it.”
“This…” The Duke frowned and said, “You don’t know, Timothy promoted a large number of cronies after he took the throne, such as Lanli, Skull, and Knight Maurice. Whether it was dispatching the Knights or conscripting troops, it was beyond our control.”
“Yes, Your Majesty, please understand.”
“He even bypassed the Court of Inquisition when he sent Prince Garon to the guillotine,” Pai Law shouted while coughing, “The executor was also a member of the Knights, and I couldn’t stop him at all.”
“...So everything that has happened in the past year has nothing to do with you, right?” Roland's evaluation of these ministers dropped a few points again. Rather than being assistants who served the king, they were more like interest groups with their own agendas, parasites attached to the royal family. Perhaps in the early days of Graycastle's creation, the noble ministers were indeed the king's capable assistants, but over the centuries, they had completely become rigid and corrupt. "Since that's the case, let's play a game."
“A… game?” Everyone looked different.
“A «Judgment Game» called «I Ask, You Answer»,” Roland scanned the nobles present, “Lying means elimination, remember... you only have one chance.”(。)