Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 646 - 645: The End of the Royal Banner

Gawain had once guessed that Wales did not covet the throne, but to be honest, he did not expect the other party to be so thorough or to go to such extremes.

He not only overthrew himself but also destroyed the seven-hundred-year-old noble rules of Anzu—where the king is the leader of the leaders, and the leader is an extension of the king.

As the one who broke this rule, he guided the furious nobles to overthrow him, and after he stepped down, Anzu’s king-noble structure would crack with an irreparable rift, making this system easy to destroy and hard to restore.

Some saw this but chose silence, some did not see it and indulged in the strange passion of overthrowing a king, and some sharper people noticed the undercurrents at the scene and the iron chariots of the Cecil Clan not far away.

The new era has arrived—the conservatives had once rejected this new era, but it still came.

It rolled over them.

In front of everyone, Wales calmly took off his crown, and it wasn’t until he handed it to the attendant by his side that the present nobles and soldiers reacted, causing a small commotion—it seemed only at this moment did people feel a touch of reality, truly confirming that the king who sat on the throne for only eight days had relinquished his royal authority, and after confirming this, some became lost.

The king has stepped down... who will be the new king?

Baldwin Franklin did not remain silent for long. Before the commotion spread, he stepped forward and raised the Mithril Plate in his hand.

"Since the time is ripe, I will announce to everyone a special law passed down only between the Protectorate Duke and the royal family. This law was jointly formulated by the founding king Charlie the First and the first Protectorate Duke and is divided into several parts stored within the four domains in the form of a Mithril contract. Both Duchess Victoria Wilder and I can attest to the authenticity and validity of this law.

This is the Emergency Inheritance Act, and its contents are as follows—"

As this seven-hundred-year-dust-laden secret regulation was announced, everyone on site widened their eyes.

This was beyond almost everyone’s expectations.

Pairs of astonished eyes exchanged glances in the air, and the crowd on the edges couldn’t help but whisper, while the nobles in the center fell into an eerie silence. Some showed thoughtful expressions, while some seemed to comprehend, yet no one voiced doubts.

Because recognizing the times has always been one of the virtues of nobles, and with their acumen, they had long realized that today was destined to witness a change.

"Today, the Moen bloodline has no direct heirs available, and all side branches cannot bear the weight of the crown, leaving Anzu’s royal power suspended. While the first founding Duke is still alive, according to this Emergency Inheritance Act, Gawain Cecil Duke shall automatically become the new king.

Duke Cecil, you may accept this oath."

Baldwin held up the Mithril Plate in front of Gawain, calmly watching the founding Duke before him.

All eyes in the square also raised, staring intently at the scene’s center.

Gawain smiled and reached for the Mithril Oath: "Indeed, this country now needs a protector and a ruler, or else it might not make it through this winter..."

Upon hearing these words, the nobles in the square showed smiles of complex meaning, and then they each slightly lowered their heads, concealing all changes in their eyes, readying themselves to cheer for the new king.

Gawain’s hand gently brushed over the Mithril Oath.

"But I do not intend to take on the crown passed down from Charlie."

The solid Mithril Plate silently turned into fine ashes, scattering away with the wind.

Duke Baldwin’s calm facade broke; he looked at all this with astonished surprise, and even Victoria beside him couldn’t help showing a trace of shock. Only Wales, standing slightly behind Gawain, maintained a calm expression, with a barely detectable smile hidden at the corner of his mouth.

The nobles in the square bowed their heads for a long time, not hearing Duke Baldwin’s signal to cheer, and as they confusedly raised their heads, they finally saw the last scene of those powders scattering away in the wind, leading to continuous low exclaims.

Gawain rubbed his hands to clear away the last bit of Mithril powder from his fingertips and turned to look at the square:

"Anzu’s royal power has ended, beginning and ending with Moen. It will conclude with dignity, not awkwardly forced to continue—the last king of Anzu protected this country, and I hope you remember this.

This land will endure, this disaster will end, and new shoots will sprout on the burnt land, but ’Anzu’ has become history. A new nation will be established here to protect this land and its people, and I hope you understand this.

I promise this process will be stable and peaceful, and this land will ultimately prosper and thrive, never descending into chaos and decline. I also promise that any disruption of order will be severely punished, to protect everyone’s safety and rights.

This is not a suggestion but a notification, and I have clearly informed everyone here. Now, opponents step forward, take a step ahead."

The entire square was pin-drop silent, with only the silent watch of the Cecil Legion battle chariots and magic combatants, without joy or sorrow, disciplined and orderly.

After an unbearable silence that seemed to last a century, Victoria suddenly said softly, "I support it."

Duke Baldwin glanced at the Northern Duchess.

The southern borders were Cecil’s domain, the eastern borders were already a name without substance, the north had declared loyalty, and most of the Plains of the Holy Spirits were under actual control of the Cecil Legion, while the royal capital was within the range of those war machines.

Whether supporting or not didn’t make much difference, moreover Gawain Cecil already had the qualification to inherit the royal power, and now he was merely furthering that qualification.

"I support," the Duke of the West stepped forward half a step, speaking in a deep voice.

Gawain nodded to the two Guardian Dukes, his gaze sweeping across the crowd in the square, revealing a slight smile, "Very well, no one objects, then I will fulfill my promise."

He continued, "Since we are about to embark on a new Chapter in history, we have much to do—please pack your belongings swiftly and return to the royal capital. I will discuss with the two Guardian Dukes how to restore order, how to quickly establish a national framework, and how to resume production promptly. Moreover, this crisis is far from over; as members of the pro-war faction, I trust you understand we have not reached a point where we can relax."

Gawain subtly reminded the aristocrats of the capital, who were caught in a daze, with the looming crisis. He was confident it would spark their spirits temporarily, reducing the disorder that might arise.

The drama unfolded unexpectedly and concluded just as surprisingly. The massive procession reorganized and set off toward the royal capital in the setting sun.

The Cecil Legion entered the city.

The formidable and awe-inspiring war chariot tracks crushed the ancient stone pavements of St. Soniel, fully armed magic combatants marched in orderly lines, followed by White Knights shouldering warhammers at the forefront, with Holy Light swirling and banners waving.

The citizens who had just survived a life-and-death crisis lined the streets, crowding around the entering procession, greeting them with curiosity and reverence, some frightened by the tanks making strange noises, turning pale and prostrating on the ground. Additionally, there were skinny civilians and serfs kneeling on the roadside, seemingly ready to kiss the boots of the magic combatants and the footprints they left.

They were numbly enthusiastic, joyously fearful.

Amber and Gawain stood together inside the chariot, half of her body extended outside (Amber stood on a stool).

Seeing the scene on the roadsides, looking at the people prostrating, the half-elf lady couldn’t help but frown, "You will make these people stand up someday, won’t you?"

"Certainly, just as I’ve done in the southern borders."

"I know, I’m just confirming again..." Amber said softly, "I’m just a bit nervous... You actually took this step... Although the Administrative Office indeed made preparations beforehand, each department also made ready, yet no one expected it to happen so quickly."

Gawain glanced at the slightly nervous half-elf and couldn’t help but smile, "I said I would march to the royal capital."

At the back of the procession, Wales Moen turned his head, glancing at the towering walls of St. Soniel once more.

On those walls, stained with blood countless times and defended by knights and warriors with their lives, a blue background and gold-edged Anzu Royal Banner was slowly being lowered.

The one executing the lowering of the flag was Cohen Loland, leader of the Order of Knights — it was the dignity left to the Moen Royal Family by Duke Cecil.

Beside Wales, the sturdy, grey-haired Cromwell Whiteshill, the Earl of White Mountain, also looked back at the descending royal banner, watching as the glowing hue from the sunset enveloped it, watching as it entirely disappeared from the walls, and finally could not help but choke up, "Your Majesty, the royal banner is down, I..."

"I am no longer the King," Wales corrected him, "A new flag will rise. Earl White Mountain, stand up straight, you and your family pledge allegiance to this nation, and this nation has not fallen."

Having dwarf bloodlines, extremely unique among Anzu’s aristocrats, Earl Cromwell Whiteshill inhaled lightly, "Respect to you."

Anzu’s royal banner was lowered, and the Cecil flag started to flutter above the walls of St. Soniel; although the framework for the new state had yet to be established, power transfer and many other affairs had not truly begun, the mere change of flags conveyed many messages.

At the topmost spire of Silver Castle, a figure dressed in a pale purple tulle dress, her face covered by a sheer veil, quietly gazed down at this "ancient" human royal city, observing the distant change in banners.

Moments later, Melita Ponia pressed at her ear, and a pale golden communication interface emerged before her eyes.

"Anzu’s royal authority has changed; Gawain Cecil will become the new master of this country, yet he seems not to have chosen to inherit the title of Anzu’s King, but rather more aggressively wishes to establish a new nation."

The lines within the communication interface trembled, a rustling with interference sounds came through, "...The royal power shift was anticipated... Though him not inheriting the throne but choosing to end Anzu’s royal power was unexpected, it is understandable. It’s much easier to paint on a blank canvas than to amend an old painting..."

Melita blinked, "My last report... how did it go?"

The communication interface on the other side was silent for two seconds, then spoke with a hint of a sigh, "The Five Kings Council decided to accept your narrative, not pursuing your unauthorized actions, yet the council chairperson wanted me to give you a reminder privately."

Melita grew tense immediately, "Don’t slash my salary?!"

"...The council chairperson hopes next time when you exploit a loophole, don’t be so blatant, at least make the reasoning sound smoother. Writing ’undertaking cargo transport business doesn’t count as meddling in war because freight was paid’ directly in the report is difficult for everyone, were you ever dropped on the ground as an egg?"

"Was that last remark from the council chairperson too?"

"I said that."

Melita breathed a sigh of relief, patting her chest, "Oh that’s alright then..."

A torrent of Talronde profanity seemingly came from the communicator, yet Melita Ponia had already blocked those detrimental words directed at her. She looked up, glancing at the procession gradually approaching Silver Castle, then at the distant cathedral still shrouded under Holy Light, appearing all as usual, and couldn’t help but let out a gentle sigh.

"This current generation of humans... has so many variables...

"But if you can harness these variations to break free from shackles, it wouldn’t be bad."