Chereads / The Requiem of an Emperor / Chapter 42 - 1st Tuor: Sandraudiga

Chapter 42 - 1st Tuor: Sandraudiga

On a serious note, Mikhail felt rueful of the fact that the Empress' existence was still unrevealed to the citizens of the empire - The very reason why people could easily disregard their consideration of the opinions of a mother who they didn't know existed.

Percival was certain that the Empress was aware of the myriad of marriage proposals that the Emperor had accumulated from the time of his ascendance to the throne.

'These adamant proposals begot an aeonian source of nuisance to His Majesty. Surely, Her Highness must be blaming herself of catalyzing such an annoyance that could easily be resolved by her advent in the social circle.' It was a thought that he ruminated on over and over.

Nevertheless, the Empress expressed her unrelenting decision to ensconce her subsistence. She didn't covet to unveil herself out in the open, not yet.

Upon harking the Grand Cordon's last statement, there were some Rounds who shared a similar conviction with him. Although, there were also those who didn't give an ounce of care, being that they're unacquainted with the Empress. Regrettably, there will always be one person who would deviate from the normalcy of nestling empathy in their heart.

"What?! Why was I not informed of this?! Do they have no shame?!" The Countess caterwauled, dropping her tightly clenched fists on the rugged table as she stood up in a hustle.

Lauviah's comrades long envisioned this reaction of her's the instant that Mikhail broached the topic regarding the Emperor's marriage. However, they did hope that she'd hamper on her undesirable emotions till the wrap-up of the conference, but to their dismay, here she was exposing the hideousness of jealousy.

The occupants of the great hall claimed their silence, raddled of the abrupt outburst. The sole exception was the Rounds who immediately turned their gazes toward their commander.

Mikhail's eyes were apathetic as he comfortably chose to neglect the irate woman.

"I trust that you're all aware that winning this war is our utmost priority. The formation we're going to utilize is a Double Envelopment. I'll be dividing the orders into two flanks."

Realizing that she was being ignored, Lauviah's shoulders began to shake uncontrollably.

"In the northern fla-"

"Why are you not answering me?!" She interrupted Percival's speech with another loud verbalism.

Unfortunately for her, she wouldn't acquire the attention she profusely demanded from the Grand Cordon. Mikhail simply resumed to his task at hand, dismissing the female knight's remarks to be farcical.

"As I was saying, the southern flank will be composed of Epime-"

"ANSWER ME, YOU IMPUDENT COMMONER!"

All of a sudden, a strained repose dominated the ambience of the room. The Countess' resort to slander their commander was beyond the final straw for the Rounds who were previously hampering their urge to berate Lauviah. Among them, the one who's enraged the most was Khamael.

"You better sit your ass down, or I'll drag you by your neck in the act of throwing you outside, demented crackbrain." The younger Percival uttered with a voice accompanied by all the hatred he could muster. His orbs grew into a lightless pool of hostility as he glowered at the Countess.

Given the right amount of motivation, the lad would indeed act on his temper. Compared to Rehael who merely punched a noble, Khamael actually butchered a noble in full view of the crowd. That incident was swiftly swept under the rugs, owing to the memory manipulation of the tower magicians. Withal, the knight had to work for several mensiths to earn the forgiveness of the Emperor and his brother.

Be that as it may, when he was asked if he would be able to do such a crime again, he plainly answered with a yes despite the immense torment of a punishment that he received.

Knowing that side of Khamael, the unruliest of the bunch, Lauviah's consciousness forcefully made her surrender. In a similar manner of fright, the knights occupying the audience section were stone-cold thankful that the threat was not directed to them. After all, they witnessed how brutal of a monster that this innocent-looking man could be.

"Cretinous lunatic, the next instance you open your filthy mouth, make sure you'll say something sensible. I'll f*cking spill your guts out if I hear anything remotely stupid from you." He articulated his finishing admonishment.

He then transferred his stare from the stunned and cowering Countess to Mikhail. He wanted to see if his sibling had arranged a reprimanding for him. Notably to his respite, the older Percival just nodded at him as a show of gratitude.

The Grand Cordon was in a position wherein he's required to conduct himself properly afore his subordinates. He cannot possibly flaunt a crass attitude akin to what the third seated knight of the Rounds did.

Meanwhile, the rest of the Rounds were appeased that Lauviah's fury was extinguished. They couldn't spare any more compassion for the woman who persisted in crossing the pardonable threshold of sins.

The matter of the Countess' insolent tantrum was set aside pronto. Anyhow, Mikhail was not able to forge the line of intermission as a result of one knight's bemusement.

"Your vocabulary of insults never ceases to amaze me, Khamael. I guess it's because you're a lunatic as well!" Jibrail insultingly praised his comrade.

This made Israfel respond to the cheery Sagramore, in defiance of his supposed reflection on his earlier mistake.

"Huh? Do you hear yourself? You're the embodiment of a psychopath, you moronic aberrant. You're in no place to tell someone that they're a lunatic." Marquiss Israfel Morholt said his comment as if he was shocked that Jibrail was oblivious of his own character.

"Why the hell are you inserting your pathetic self in the conversation, shameless maniac?" The initiator retorted with a diss.

Of course, the mortal enemies started their verbal altercation for the uncountable amount of recurrence.

Oddly enough, this bickering alleviated the cumbersome atmosphere inside the hall. Howbeit, it failed to gain their commander's delectation.

"Do you want to stay here for an additional three hours?"

Mikhail finally intervened in the progression of events. The meeting kept on being swerved to a different focus that impeded its advance.

When they heard their superior speak, the moronic aberrant and the shameless maniac promptly shut their mouths lest irritating him.

"Good, then let us proceed," Mikhail stated as he stood up from his seat.

He stretched his left hand above the table prior to casting a spell. It was an enchantment from the 3rd tier of Fihro Cixu.

"Profero; Plains of Rephtry locis."

Once he's done uttering the enchantment, a myriad of specks of mana, which are floating all over the enclosed space, forthwith became visible. These specks resembled the dewdrops that settled on top of a leaf after a Nasha of heavy rain. Their colours created a vibrant greenery among the burnished furniture.

These mana particles gathered atop the table, building a three-dimensional map of the Plains of Rephtry. The map aligned with the four cardinal directions, Mikhail's spot being the south.

"The Estrama Empire is dead west of Seraphiel Empire. The only piece of land separating us from them is the Plains of Rephtry. Heeding to our Double Envelopment strategy, the two flanks will be set up on the northern and southern part of the plains."

While he's giving the briefing, Percival made it a habit to point out the areas he's pertaining to with his left index finger, since his right hand was still holding some documents.

"Daphnis and Aegaeon will take the north."

Simultaneous to learning the identity of his company, Count Gaderel Lanval gulped in frustration. Aegaeon was his knight order while Daphnis was Khamael's. He found it laborious to do his job alongside the younger Percival.

In perpetuum, the battlefield was altered to a land of anarchy by the ruthless thirst for blood of the knights belonging in Daphnis. Their commander lets them loose absent the scruple, even neglecting their allies' concerns.

Concurrently, Mikhail continued with his discussion.

"Epimetheus and Mimas will take the south."

Once he heard the assignment, Jibrail immediately looked at Rehael to acknowledge their partnership.

"Rehael! I'll leave my back to you."

"It's a pleasure, My Lord," Rehael replied, bowing his head to show respect.

Sagramore simply smiled in return. Jibrail's Epimetheus and Rehael's Mimas had a certain chemistry between them, probably for the reason that their commanders were the quirky types and get along just fine.

"Now, the commandant for the northern flank will be Igor Vere, the vice-commander of Daphnis. For the southern flank, it will be Epimetheus' vice-commander, Rivhen Auro."

Question-marks suddenly appeared in their heads, courtesy of the assignment that was open to doubt. It should've been a given for the Rounds to assume the roles of the commanders, yet it was not the case this time.

"My Lord, wouldn't it be more effective if one of the Rounds will be the commanders?" Iophiel inquired of the specifics of the operation. He was not questioning the Grand Cordon's decision-making skills, but curious about why he proposed this particular arrangement.

"I don't know why you all seem aghast of the idea. I thought you're all educated on the various strategies and formations that we exploit during a war?"

"Well, that's not far from the truth, My Lord. A Double Envelopment uses three flanks, at the least. Two are on opposite sides to pressure the outer flanks of the enemy. In the interim, the third flank will attack the rear of their formation."

"Precisely, so which order do you think I will give that role?"

Duke Cynan pondered on the query, inquisitive of why he was given a question as such.

"I think Paen will be a perfect candidate for the role, My Lord."

"Iophiel, your knight order was designated to go on an expedition a few diers from now. They don't have the strength to be burdened by major roles twice in a mensith."

Mikhail soughed, albeit shallow, baffled by the shoal thinking of his subordinate.

"Then, I'll answer you, Iophiel." Said Mikhail, and continued with a nonchalant tone in his voice. "It's my knight order and another one that is equally, or rather, more powerful."

"By your knight order, do you mean... us? The Knights of the Round Table?"

"Yes, and you will be joined by the Knights of the Axhiven League. The nine archdukes of the Seraphiel Empire will be participating in this war."