Return of The Unrivaled Spear Knight - Chapter 228

Chapter 228

The noble who saw him first looked oddly embarrassed. When Joshua waltzed into the room, their faces were awash with surprise and amazement—until they realized who he was. Then, all the scorn, jealousy, and embarrassment they felt were thrown aside; instead, they showered him with jeers.

“Who do you think you are, Baron Sanders?” Count Yorik demanded, his mustache bristling. “If you’re going to drag yourself back to the Imperial Palace after all this time, at least do your damn job, knight! What are you doing, strolling into here?!”

The other nobles were quick to add their voices:

“Huh! Just because your name has been going around, you act like you’re above everyone.”

“Everyone here outranks you, Baron, so you’d best watch yourself—unless you’ve gone bad?”

“The whole world’s gone crazy! You may be a Master, but there is still a hierarchy we follow. Humble yourself—you stand under the eaves of the Imperial Palace.”

Joshua stared into the distance longingly while Ash whistled nonchalantly. The scorned baron sighed quietly and began to examine the gathered nobles.

They all hated each other mutually.

After a moment, Joshua’s mouth curled into a smirk.

So this is the game we’re playing.

A hotbed of plots and conspiracies; where someone who smiled and shared a meal with you today would casually stab you in the back tomorrow; where everyone would do anything to get ahead—that was the aristocracy.

Buoyed by his fellow nobles’ support, Count Yorik raised his voice at Joshua again. “Baron Sanders—no, Captain of the Auxiliary Battalion Sanders, we demand to know why you are here!” He grinned ear to ear. Joshua was only a baron, but the nobles called by the Emperor to this meeting were all deeply connected to the center of power; the least among them was a viscount—and Joshua was only a baron.

After a long, pregnant moment, Joshua slowly opened his mouth.

“Is that it?”

“Huh?” Count Yorik was befuddled.

“I’m asking because I can’t see anyone above a marquis, let alone the Emperor.”

The Count stared dumbly at him for a moment. Has he gone crazy? Does he have any idea what he’s saying?

“I mean—You at least need to greet us first,” he fumed.

“Close, but not quite right.”

The nobles’ jaws dropped.

“You mad fool—”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, so you’re just spouting bullshit…”

“Is this what we should expect of the knights who protect the Imperial family? This is too much!”

Regardless of all else, Joshua was only a baron, and their words could seriously harm him; politics could not be underestimated.

“His Majesty Marcus von Britten, the Sun of the Empire, is now entering!”

Just in time, the servant’s cry interrupted them. They set aside their argument with Joshua and immediately bowed, even Count Yorik.

The Imperial retinue came through the door with an insurmountable momentum. Each one of them individually was powerful—together, they were the strongest force in the Empire. The man leading them looked to be carved from iron; everyone else trailed behind him like servants.

The first master of the Imperial family. The iron-blooded ruler. The craziest, most bloodthirsty man. It would be no exaggeration to say that he was the most storied Emperor of Avalon in history. Marcus von Britten, the Master of Avalon, was the only person who could silence the highest nobles and greatest knights.

“W-We greet Your Majesty the Emperor!”

“Your Majesty!”

Emperor Marcus paid no mind to their chorus of hails. His attention was solely on the young man who knelt at the front.

“Joshua Sanders…”

Duke Agnus was too embarrassed to say anything, allowing the Emperor to speak however he wished.

“I greet Your Majesty.”

“How’d you get here?”

“I set out as soon as I received your summons, Your Majesty.”

Impossibly, the Emperor’s unshakeable gaze seemed to waver. He was not nearly as impulsive as he seemed—each and every move he made was carefully planned.

“You see, I heard about Duke Pontier in the south of the Empire a few days ago…”

“It is all owed to Your Majesty’s grace. However, this great task that Your Majesty has granted me requires many preparations first.”

“Oh? A ‘task?’” Marcus cocked his head. He couldn’t remember anything of the sort. If Joshua was talking about the Master Battle, he would’ve said that it was a job well done.

Joshua bowed his head apologetically to the Emperor before turning elsewhere. “Count Yorik djon Palesman, you said something about my job earlier.”

Count Yorik was so startled he nearly stopped bowing.

“My job is to protect the Imperial Palace and the Empire and to act as His Majesty’s sword… not protect bastards like you.”

“This crazy bastard…” The nobles’ eyes widened.

“His Majesty the Emperor is the only one who can command the Imperial Knights to his side.” Joshua stared at Count Yorik’s shocked-stiff back. “You dare command us like puppets dancing in your palm? You overstep your bounds—along with the rest of your traitorous ilk.”

“Traitor? What are you—”

“More crap—”

“What are you talking about, Joshua Sanders?” The Emperor enquired.

“Your Majesty, in this hall is a traitor who has done great harm to the Empire. Had my efforts gone awry, the Imperial Palace would have been reduced to a sea of fire, and tens of thousands of our people would have died. I intend to punish this traitor, as Your Majesty commanded.”

“You…” Marcus’s eyes widened in understanding. “You’re saying…”

“The one who drew the dragon’s ire over Arcadia is here.”

“What?!” The nobles could not hide their confusion.

Joshua slowly turned. His target trembled like he’d been struck by lightning when their eyes met.

“Marquis Gehor von Crombell. You used the unique circumstances of territorial wars to break an inviolable law, thus angering the dragon.”

“Th-th-that—”

Marquis Crombell probably couldn’t have even imagined that his cards would be revealed in a place like this. He paid a considerable premium to quickly teleport back to Arcadia and spent the entire day doing damage control. He just barely managed to prevent Joshua’s real-time broadcast from reaching the other nobles, but it was all for nothing.

This bastard couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut…!

“I mean, i-isn’t it over already? A hundred million gold is more than enough…”

“What does their rightful compensation have to do with this?”

“What I mean is—”

“Don’t make excuses,” Joshua coldly interrupted. “You can tell the whole story when you’re rotting in prison, Marquis Crombell.”

Joshua’s defiance of the aristocratic hierarchy for the sake of honor moved some of the audience to tears.

“Your Majesty, with your permission, I will take care of the traitor immediately.” He bowed with the utmost respect.

“You…” Emperor Marcus stared at him. He found himself at a loss; he couldn’t predict where Joshua was planning to take this situation.

“Y-Your Majesty…” The nobles choked down a lump in their throats.

“Granted.”

The nobles reeled in shock. Everyone knew who was backing Marquis Crombell. “Granted” was akin to admitting defeat to a boy in the prime of his youth.

Joshua swung toward the quivering Marquis. “Knights of the 11th and 12th Battalion, arrest this sinner and traitor, Marquis Gehor von Crombell!”

“We hear and obey!” A large group of knights entered as if they’d been waiting outside.

This was why Joshua had allowed Marquis Crombell to return; this was why they called him “Reaper” in his past life. Once his prey had taken the bait, the Reaper would drag them straight to the gates of hell.