Return of the Mythic Bloodline-Chapter 405: Wooden box

The news of the fall of House Ironvale spread like wildfire across the empire within hours of the day Brandon and Erik found the frozen Ironvale army.

An army of fewer than a hundred thousand Banes had already claimed a major victory in less than a week since the war had begun. No one could underestimate them anymore. Chaos erupted in the meeting halls of every Duchy, as debates raged over whether to attack while the Banes were still exhausted or to reinforce their own defenses now that the Banes possessed the catastrophic weapons of House Ironvale.

In the end, one conclusion was clear. The Banes had to be stopped at all costs.

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"I’m sorry, Lord Aurelion," said a breathtakingly beautiful woman with light pink hair. Her face was hidden behind a veil, and a pair of butterfly wings radiating a luminous pink fluttered on her back. "I could have healed the Prince’s arm if the wound had not already closed. Nothing can be done now."

They were inside the meeting room of the fortress, with all the Sect Masters present. Taranis sat beside Sylvaris, still clad in dark armor, while Aurelion sat on the other side. He was the one who had requested Sylvaris to examine Taranis.

"If even Lady Sylvaris cannot regenerate his arm, then no one can," Titan muttered, clenching his fists. He could not help but blame himself for allowing that duel to happen. He still carried regret over everything that had occurred at the Sentinel Line. If he had been there, supporting the Thunderbanes in the war, then the Emperor might not have attempted to betray them.

And now that the Prince had returned alive, he had resolved not to let history repeat itself, yet here he was, still unable to do anything when Taranis had nearly lost his life.

"Lord Aurelion, why didn’t you kill Astrid yourself?" Titan demanded, his voice sharper. "What was the reason for endangering the Prince’s life in this way?"

Aurelion did not reply. Besides a few people, no one knew that Nymeria was still alive, or that Taranis needed to grow stronger to save her.

"Lord Aurelion, are you perhaps blaming the Prince for what happened to the Snow Goddess?" Barbatos asked, seeing that Aurelion did not respond.

Silence fell over the meeting room. Until now, no one had dared to speak of Nymeria in Aurelion’s presence. However, it was a question that needed to be asked even though it was a question raised on Aurelion’s honor. In their eyes, Taranis was the sole heir to the Heaven’s Sovereign Throne, whose survival was absolutely essential for the future of the Hundred Sky Mountains. If Aurelion was truly acting out of petty revenge, then the situation had to be resolved with words before he endangered the Prince again.

"It was my decision," Taranis’s voice echoed from behind the helm. "I had asked Lord Aurelion to bring me Astrid alive. I wanted to execute him myself to avenge Nathan."

Titan opened his mouth to speak, but Taranis cut him off. "I do not wish to discuss this matter any further. The war is more important than a damn arm!"

Taranis’s firm command brought the matter to a close, and the meeting shifted to their next course of action.

"I have spoken to the citizens of Ironvale," Robert began. "At first, they feared us to the point that they were prepared to take their own lives if we marched our army into the country. However, they have become more receptive after we freed the knights of Ironvale who were taken as prisoners of war."

"Freed them?" Taranis asked, displeasure evident in his voice.

"They have taken a Soul Oath that they will never leave this Duchy, leak any information to the Empire, or raise their weapons against us."

"What did you do with those who did not agree?" Taranis asked. "I am certain some of them still seek to avenge their lord."

"They remain imprisoned. They are honorable warriors who refuse to bend the knee to a foreign power."

"Execute them," Taranis declared.

"P-Prince?" Robert murmured, unable to believe what he had just heard.

"Put their heads on spikes beside Soren’s. Let them stand as an example to the citizens of what will happen if they dare oppose us," Taranis ordered, his deep voice devoid of emotion.

"But, Prince, doing that may incite unrest in the country. The citizens might turn against us," Sylvaris said, concern evident on her face.

"Lady Sylvaris, we are not here to rule them, so I am not concerned with what happens within the country. We have already shown restraint by not reducing it to ruins. Fear must be instilled in their hearts to ensure their obedience."

The other leaders wished to protest Taranis’s ruthless decree, yet they also understood that excessive mercy would cost them the cooperation of the people.

"I will speak to the prisoners one last time," Robert said. "If they still refuse, then... I will carry out your order."

With that settled, the meeting shifted to a more pressing matter: the weaponry of Ironvale.

From the information Robert had gathered, the Duchy possessed fifty thousand ballistas, sturdy armor and weapons sufficient to equip an army of a million, and ten cannons known as Madam Doom.

These terrifying weapons could only be operated by cultivators of at least the True Sage Realm, which was why they were not mass-produced.

The meeting continued for several more hours, addressing minor matters. In the end, it was decided that the army would march again, targeting other Duchies if the Emperor still chose not to mobilize his forces by the next day.

Just as the meeting was about to conclude, the door was struck with impatient knocks.

"Come in, Thorin," Robert said, recognizing him by his presence alone.

The door opened, and Thorin entered, carrying a small wooden box in his hands.

"Forgive me for barging in like this," Thorin said before continuing, "but the guards found this box at the fortress gate."

"What is inside it?" Robert asked.

"Th-that... please see for yourself," he replied, placing the box on the table.

An ominous premonition coiled within Taranis as his gaze fixed upon the box. Reaching forward, he opened it.

Inside lay a malnourished, severed hand, its nails brutally torn out. On the lid of the box, a message had been written in blood:

Surrender House Ironvale within 24 hours, or next time it will be the head you receive.