Reborn as a Hated Noble Family, We Start an Industrial Revolution-Chapter 97: Golden-Tongued Diplomacy (Part 3)

The air within the Hall of Radiant Thrones had reached a point of absolute saturation. It felt as though every molecule of oxygen in the gargantuan chamber had been incinerated by the mounting tension, replaced by a suffocating void that weighed heavily on the lungs of every noble present. High above, the sunlight filtered through the stained-glass windows, illuminating swirling motes of dust that looked like spectral witnesses to the unfolding drama.

Lodgar Solari took a step forward, his movements possessing a practiced, artificial elegance that reeked of the Highgarden courts. In his hands, he held a thick parchment document, its edges yellowed to simulate age and its weight suggesting a terrifying finality. With a dramatic flourish that bordered on the theatrical, he broke the crimson wax seal—a seal that bore the unmistakable mark of the Northern Wolf, the official sigil of House Sudrath.

"Your Majesty," Lodgar’s voice boomed, amplified by the hall’s acoustics and his own forced authority. "This is no longer a matter of mere conjecture or tactical speculation. We have intercepted a clandestine courier attempting to bypass the Highgarden borders under the cover of a merchant caravan. Within his belongings, we found this: Operation Eclipse. It is a systematic, cold-blooded blueprint detailing a plan to allow the Iron Empire’s fleet to ravage the coastal provinces. The goal? To induce a state of absolute military paralysis at the capital, after which House Sudrath would emerge as the ’saviors’ with their advanced technology, using the ensuing chaos to demand the throne itself."

He handed the document to a royal valet, who carried it with trembling hands toward King Edward. Prince Marcus and Prince Cedric stood flanking their father like two statues of judgment, their gazes already casting a death sentence upon Roland.

"Observe the seal, Father," Marcus urged, his voice a low vibration of suppressed triumph. "The Wolf with the crossed fangs. Only Duke Lucian possesses the signet ring required to make that mark. This is an irrefutable proof of high treason."

Roland Sudrath felt the world begin to tilt. The sheer weight of his exhaustion threatened to dim his vision, yet the word treason acted like a bucket of ice water splashed across his face, forcing a fresh surge of adrenaline through his veins. He stared at the document from across the hall. His mind, honed through thousands of hours of high-stakes negotiations in his previous life on Earth, began to accelerate, processing variables at a speed no human in this room could fathom.

"May I be permitted to examine this ’irrefutable proof,’ Your Majesty?" Roland asked. His voice was raspy, a dry rasp against the silence, but it remained unnervingly stable.

"For what purpose? To incinerate it where you stand?" Cedric sneered, his fingers crackling with a faint lavender mana.

"Prince Cedric, if you are so certain of this evidence, why do you fear allowing me a closer look?" Roland countered with a thin, lethal smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

King Edward offered a weary gesture of permission. The document was brought before Roland. Rumina stepped closer, her eyes—clear and analytical—scanning every fiber of the parchment. Roland focused on the wax seal with the intensity of a diamond cutter. He remembered every night he had spent watching his father, Lucian, seal military reports in the study of Iron Heart Castle.

"Lord Lodgar," Roland began, his voice suddenly shifting into a more relaxed, conversational tone—a telltale sign to those who knew him that he had found the fracture in the enemy’s wall. "You have done a remarkably thorough job. The sigil is almost perfect. However, there is a minute detail known only to the inner circle of the Sudrath family. The wolf on our original signet ring has a microscopic notch on its left ear—a defect in the metal casting that my father intentionally preserved as a secret mark of authentication. The seal on your document... the ear is far too perfect. It is the ear of a wolf that has never seen a forge."

Rumina moved with the precision of a scientist, pulling a specialized Magitech magnifying lens from a hidden pocket in her dress. "And if you observe the fibers of this parchment under concentrated mana-light," she added, her voice ringing out like a bell, "you will see the crystalline residue of Photosynthetic Ink. This ink is produced exclusively in the Highgarden workshops because it requires the extract of Southern Sun-flowers to maintain its color density. Northreach uses only whale-oil-based ink, as it is the only substance that remains fluid in sub-zero temperatures. This document was never drafted in the North. It was forged in your own estate, Lord Lodgar."

A sudden, tomb-like silence descended upon the hall. Lodgar Solari’s face drained of color for a fleeting second before he recovered with a forced, cynical laugh. "A masterful manipulation of words, Lady Rumina. But signet rings can be repaired, and inks can be imported. The fact remains that Prince Caelus is missing, and that remains our primary evidence of your hostile intent!"

Marcus stepped forward, his golden armor clanging with an intimidating resonance. He loomed over Roland, his gaze burning with a feral intensity. "Enough with your technical babble, Roland. Confess now, or I swear by the blood of my ancestors, I will personally lead the Silver Eagle Knights to raze Northreach to its very foundations. I will ensure the name Sudrath is expunged from every record in this kingdom."

Roland did not flinch. He squared his shoulders, ignoring the hammering pulse in his temples. "You wish to destroy Northreach, Prince Marcus? By all means, try. But know this: while your army is busy slaughtering your own people in the North, the Iron Empire will make landfall here without resistance. You are inviting a thief into your home simply because you despise a neighbor who is more successful than you."

King Edward let out a long, shuddering sigh. He looked ancient, his face a map of grief and political paralysis. He looked toward Leonardo, the Crown Prince, who had been observing the proceedings in silence. Leonardo seemed to be weighing the scales. He knew Roland was likely telling the truth, but to openly condemn Marcus and Lodgar would shatter the fragile stability of the factions that held the kingdom together.

"My children, honorable members of the Council," King Edward’s voice was heavy with the weight of a crown he could no longer carry comfortably. "This evidence... is questionable. However, the shadow of suspicion is far too vast to ignore. Sudrath, I will not declare your family traitors today. But I also cannot, in good conscience, provide military aid to a province whose loyalty is being questioned by my own sons."

The King rose from his throne, his silhouette cast long across the floor. "My decree is this: Northreach must prove its loyalty through its own blood. If it is true that the Iron Empire attacks, then defend yourselves. If you emerge victorious without the aid of the capital, then I shall consider these slanders void. Until that day, not a single soldier from the Royal Legions will be sent to the North."

Roland clenched his fists behind his back until his knuckles turned white. This was a death sentence wrapped in the silk of diplomacy. The King was offering Sudrath as a sacrificial lamb to appease the hawks of the court.

"Your Majesty," Roland spoke, his voice now containing a crystalline chill that had never been heard before. "If that is your final decision, then I ask for one thing: formally rescind all our requests for military aid. We do not wish for a single royal soldier to be on our soil while we bleed. From this moment on, Northreach stands alone."

"Roland!" Prince Leonardo attempted to intervene, but Roland had already offered a stiff, clinical bow—no longer a gesture of respect, but a final, cold formality.

The session was dismissed, leaving every faction in a state of simmering dissatisfaction. As Roland and Rumina walked toward the Grand Guest Wing to retrieve their belongings, a few nobles affiliated with Queen Marianne’s faction offered clandestine, sympathetic nods—a silent recognition of the injustice they had witnessed but were too cowardly to protest.

In the corridor leading to their chambers, Queen Marianne appeared from behind a fluted marble pillar. She looked at Roland with the wide, haunted eyes of a mother. "Sir Roland, forgive the King’s decision. He is trapped between the hammer and the anvil. Know that I believe your words regarding Caelus. Please... keep him safe."

Roland looked at the second Queen, his gaze softened by a trace of pity. "We will keep him safer than this kingdom has kept us, Queen Marianne." 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Once they were within the relative safety of the Guest Wing, Roland immediately signaled the Ghost Squad. Though they were treated as guests, the surveillance of the Silver Eagle guards was tightening like a noose. The unit leader offered a subtle hand signal: they were ready to breach the perimeter at a moment’s notice.

Roland stood by the large window overlooking the northern horizon. His exhausted face was now a mask of cold fury, his eyes flashing with a suppressed rage. Rumina approached him, resting a hand on her brother’s arm.

"Are we going home, Brother?" she asked in a small, fragile voice.

Roland remained silent for a beat. He remembered the condescending sneer on Marcus’s face and the poisonous lies of Lodgar Solari. He thought of his father, Lucian, who had dedicated his life to this kingdom, only to be discarded the moment the storm arrived.

"No, Rumina," Roland said, his voice low and resonant with a new, dark purpose. "We are not going back to Northreach empty-handed. If this kingdom chooses to let us die, then we shall find allies who value our strength more than our subservience."

Rumina’s eyes widened. "You mean...?"

Roland looked toward the East, toward the distant, jagged peaks of the Dragon Mountains. "We are going to Draconia. Prince Leonardo may be right that an economic embargo is a double-edged sword, but he forgets that Sudrath can choose who gets to hold that sword. If Sol-Regis does not need our technology, perhaps the Dragon Empire will be more than interested."

He looked at his guards and his sister with a burning intensity. "When I leave this castle, I will leave them a farewell they won’t soon forget. They call us traitors? Perhaps that slander will become a prophecy. We will make them regret the day they discarded their finest shield."

Roland took a deep breath, compressing his anger into a cold, clinical plan. He knew this move was a gamble with their lives, but in the hall today, he had realized one truth: golden-tongued diplomacy is useless when the audience is deafened by their own arrogance.

"Prepare the vehicles. We depart at the first light of dawn. Our destination is Draconia," Roland commanded.

That night, within the luxury of the Guest Wing that had begun to feel like a gilded cage, Roland Sudrath drafted his final encrypted message to the North, using an emergency frequency that only the receiver in Iron Heart Castle could intercept.

"Assistance is not coming. The King has discarded us. Northreach must stand on its own two feet. I am seeking another path through the Dragons. Hold the line with everything you have. — Roland."

The first step toward the fracturing of the kingdom had been taken, not by the Sudraths, but by the King they had once served. And as the sun began to peek over the horizon, Roland stepped out of the palace with his head held high, leaving behind a kingdom that had no idea it had just evicted its own future.

Rating & Review:

Rating: 10/10

Bab ini merupakan titik balik krusial bagi karakter Roland. Transformasi dari seorang diplomat yang berusaha mencari damai menjadi seorang loyalis yang kecewa dan beralih menjadi pragmatis dingin memberikan perkembangan karakter yang sangat memuaskan. Tensi politiknya terjaga dengan sangat baik hingga akhir.

Tinjauan Alur (Flow Review):

Alur mengalir secara organik dari konfrontasi bukti palsu menuju keputusan strategis untuk membelot/mencari sekutu baru. Detail mengenai stempel dan tinta memberikan bobot pada aspek Magitech yang menjadi ciri khas seri ini. Cliffhanger mengenai aliansi dengan Draconia memberikan dorongan kuat bagi pembaca untuk lanjut ke bab berikutnya.

Tinjauan Terjemahan (Translation Review):

Penerjemahan ke dalam Bahasa Inggris menggunakan diksi yang "berat" dan "premium" (seperti conjecture, charlatan, expunged, catalyst), memberikan nuansa sastra novelkiss kelas atas. Deskripsi emosional dan teknis diseimbangkan agar tetap imersif bagi pembaca internasional.