Counterattack, We Can’t Keep Taking the Beating

The uproar over Southlyn’s plan to replace its general for the attack on Tyre City fizzled out in the end. Of course, it wasn’t because the Southlyn Emperor refused—it was because he never had the authority to decide.

The rumor that Prince Damien of Southlyn knows the whereabouts of the Former Dynasty Imperial Hoard was once again brought up. Now, both Damien and Southlyn have become targets for the other three kingdoms. Eastlyn was the most direct, demanding that the Southlyn Emperor hand over Damien as a criminal to be taken back and imprisoned.

Although Northlyn has set its emperor, internal affairs remain unsettled, but that doesn’t stop them from pressuring Southlyn. With Westlyn’s help, the two kingdoms together can still counter Eastlyn.

Northlyn and Westlyn made their stance clear—they also demanded Southlyn hand Damien over. But they didn’t want him given to Eastlyn; they wanted him themselves, claiming to be victims too. Both kingdoms pressed Southlyn again, demanding it pay the reparations previously promised to them in full.

Other cities, seeing the tense standoff among the Four Kingdoms, chose to stay out of it and protect themselves. Not even the lure of the Former Dynasty Imperial Hoard could tempt them. Even Jade City, tied to Southlyn by marriage, didn’t step forward to support Southlyn.

Power and wealth are good things, but if you don’t survive to enjoy them, they’re meaningless.

Southlyn never expected Northlyn and Westlyn to ignore their previous alliance and join Eastlyn in pressuring them. Suddenly, everyone in Southlyn felt endangered, and the Southlyn Emperor was crushed by the weight of it all.

Prince Damien of Southlyn couldn’t be handed over. But if he wasn’t, Southlyn couldn’t withstand the pressure from the three kingdoms. Northlyn and Westlyn were manageable—they each had their own mortal enemies and couldn’t spare energy or troops to deal with Southlyn—but Eastlyn was different…

Southlyn sent a hundred thousand troops to Tyre City, but didn’t gain a thing. Eastlyn dispatched another hundred thousand reinforcements, and with Victor Phoenixfield’s fifty thousand men already stationed there, the total force reached 150,000. This was clearly the setup for a counterattack against Southlyn.

The border situation at Southlyn grew more tense. Their army was driven out of Tyre City’s territory, but Eastlyn didn’t stop there—they kept pressing the attack into Southlyn. Southlyn protested, saying Eastlyn was violating their sovereignty. But…

William Wang somehow produced an old regional map of Tyre City, and according to that map, the two cities and three towns along Southlyn’s border were actually Tyre City’s territory. This gave Eastlyn full justification for its military intervention.

Now that Tyre City has submitted to Eastlyn, Eastlyn claims it is simply helping Tyre City reclaim its lost lands.

The Southlyn Emperor was so furious he spat blood on the spot. Back when Prince Nathan attacked Tyre City, he did seize some territory, but nowhere near as much as ‘two cities and three towns.’ To Southlyn, Eastlyn’s move is outright robbery.

But Eastlyn had maps as proof, and even historical city records. Southlyn produced its own evidence to prove those areas belonged to Southlyn, but Eastlyn refused to believe it, insisting that Southlyn’s documents were fake.

Everyone in Southlyn was beside themselves with anger, once again tasting the bitterness of weakness. Their documents were real and Eastlyn’s were fake, but Eastlyn’s word is law.

Hatred!

For once, all of Southlyn was united. They grit their teeth: Fight!

With the nation’s survival at stake, every faction understood this was no time for personal interests. If Southlyn didn’t unite now, they might as well wait for their country and homes to be destroyed.

Fight!

Southlyn and Eastlyn clashed at the border. Northlyn and Lyndaria watched the spectacle, happy to fan the flames. Neither sent troops, but both stirred up trouble from the sidelines.

The Westlyn Emperor wanted to use the chaos as a chance to send troops against Eastlyn, hoping to seize back military and political power. But Crown Prince Tianyu blocked him at every turn—whenever the emperor showed any intent to mobilize, Tianyu immediately countered by proposing an attack on the Princess Royal instead.

Which is more important—reclaiming your own territory, or attacking Eastlyn?

In truth, both matter. But given Westlyn’s current strength, neither is possible. If Westlyn tries to attack Eastlyn, the Princess Royal could ally with Ghost Hall and steal the country out from under them.

So the debate over attacking Eastlyn is stuck—no one agrees, no one objects, and nothing gets done.

Just as the fighting between Southlyn and Eastlyn at the border reached its peak, and the three kingdoms were pressuring Southlyn to hand over Prince Damien, sudden news broke: Prince Damien of Southlyn was dead.

Prince Damien of Southlyn is dead!

He died in the courtyard where he was being held—poisoned to death.

Eastlyn was the first to jump in and accuse Southlyn, saying the Southlyn Emperor was inhuman for poisoning his own son. Acting under William Wang’s instructions, Eastlyn’s envoys not only pinned Damien’s death on Southlyn, but also hinted that Southlyn had already learned the location of the Former Dynasty Imperial Hoard and killed him to silence him.

Prince Damien was rumored to be one of the last people who knew where the Former Dynasty Imperial Hoard was hidden. Southlyn had kept him under tight guard, and he’d been perfectly fine—until now. With his sudden death, it would be suspicious if the other three kingdoms didn’t suspect foul play.

Now Southlyn was in even deeper trouble.

“That was far too ruthless. Ninth Royal Uncle never planned to take his life.” William Wang’s eyes narrowed as he held a half-full cup of tea, but he made no move to drink.

Felix Fuller protested, “It wasn’t me! I swear I didn’t do it. Of course I know that keeping Prince Damien alive is far more valuable.”

“If it wasn’t you, then who else could have killed him?” William Wang knew perfectly well that, with Prince Damien’s cunning and skill, almost no one could take his life so quietly. After all…

Prince Damien was no ordinary man—even Ninth Royal Uncle had suffered losses at his hands in the past.

“I don’t know. I really didn’t do it.” Felix shook his head, a flash of cold ruthlessness crossing his refined features.

If he ever found out who ruined his plans, he’d skin them alive and tear them apart.

“He was worth more alive. Anyone capable of killing him would never have done it.” Given Prince Damien’s intelligence, once he knew the rumors about the Former Dynasty Imperial Hoard, he’d surely use that to stage a comeback—not let himself be killed.

Until he was certain he could survive, Prince Damien would never reveal any useful information.

“That’s why this whole thing is so strange. Anyone with half a brain knows how valuable Prince Damien was—no one would kill him lightly.” Felix thought, aside from Ninth Royal Uncle, probably no one else would have wanted him dead.

After all, even if Prince Damien revealed the treasure’s location, until someone actually got their hands on it, they’d still have doubts. Even if they wanted to kill him, it would only be after the treasure was secured.

“You’re right. Logically, no one would kill him at a time like this.” William Wang set down his teacup and began pacing the room…

Felix Fuller saw that William Wang had no intention of leaving anytime soon and realized William still didn’t believe him. Felix gave a bitter smile and raised his hand in oath: “I swear to heaven, I truly didn’t kill Prince Damien, and I have no idea who did.”

“I believe you,” William replied crisply—so crisply that Felix almost wanted to ask, Do you really believe me?

Then, William changed the subject: “As a Fuller Clan descendant, calculate—who is the most likely culprit?”

“Calculate?” Felix was dumbfounded. Had he heard that right?

William nodded, completely serious: “You’re a Divine Temple descendant—don’t tell me you don’t even have that much skill?”

Uh… Felix was at a complete loss for words, his face darkening with embarrassment.

He really didn’t!

If he’d truly inherited the Fuller Clan’s powers, he wouldn’t be working in the bureaucracy—he’d be a national preceptor like Westlyn’s court mystic.