Chapter 836
A heavy silence descended upon the hall, suffocating and sharp, until Ragnar finally offered a slow, deliberate nod.
"You have made a valid point, Valerius," Ragnar said, his tone shifting from threat to diplomatic. "Truthfully, there is no reason to start a war with the people of Björn."
"I will be forthright with you," Ragnar continued, his voice echoing against the cold stone of the hall. "Beyond the necessity of reclaiming our stolen artifact, I seek justice. I seek vengeance for the death of my father and for the countless souls lost in the war, including the children of all sitting here today."
He let the weight of that statement settle over the council before leaning forward, his eyes hardening. "But most importantly, this concerns the future of our kingdom and our standing on the northern continent. I have recently come across some deeply disturbing news."
At the mention of "disturbing news," a ripple of tension passed through the council. Even the three Paragons, previously cloistered in their own silence, shifted in their seats clearly now paying attention.
"I have held this intelligence for some time, initially dismissing it as a peripheral threat," Ragnar admitted, his expression grim. "But as time has passed, it has festered into a crisis of immediate urgency."
With a wave of his hand. The air above the central table shimmered, coalescing into a vivid, shifting projection. The image displayed a map of Björn, which then dissolved to reveal two figures.
The first was a woman of terrifying elegance, her back arched with massive, draconic wings and her brow crowned by two jagged horns. Beside her stood a man, his skin the same deep, scorched crimson like that of Björn but his features were twisted into an expression of cruelty and arrogance, and his head was adorned with blood-red horns that pulsed with a dark, inner light.
The room grew still, the only sound was the faint hum of the air reacting to the projection. Every breath in the chamber seemed to hitch as the council members even the three Paragons leaned forward, their indifference replaced by a palpable, icy dread.
Ragnar gestured sharply toward the two shimmering figures. "You all recognize them. The woman is Princess Lunara of the Werewolf Godlings, sister to their current leader. The man beside her is Prince Leiko, the direct heir to the Björn throne."
He paused, letting the implications of his words sink in, before continuing, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Decades ago, when the Beast Kings began vanishing, this continent was thrown into a brief chaos. At the time, the Godlings reached out to us, requesting our aid to track and map the movements of the Beast Kings around our area."
Ragnar’s finger pointed to the projection "It was only later that I uncovered the truth, these two were at the heart of that incident. However," he added, his tone shifting to emphasize the gravity of the present, "that is not where our focus must lie."
"Our focus," Ragnar continued, his voice dropping lower, "is on the nature of their relationship. That past incident was the catalyst for their meeting, and in the years since, a deep friendship has blossomed between them."
He stood and paced slowly before the council, his eyes scanning their faces. "My scouts have confirmed they are frequently sighted together, hunting in the unforgiving weathers of the Icy expanse, far beyond the reach of their own diplomatic guards. I am certain every soul in this room understands the implications."
Ragnar watched with satisfaction as the council members began to shift, the composure of the room shattering into palpable unease. He pressed his advantage, driving the point home.
"It means that our enemies in Björn are actively courting a formal alliance with the Godlings. You must grasp the magnitude of this, the Godlings carry the true blood of our Goddess within their veins. They are her kin, whereas we despite our devotion are merely her children by decree, bonded only by the divinity she saw fit to bestow upon us."
He paused, letting the weight of that distinction hang over them.
"If the Godlings throw their strength behind the iron legions of Björn, we will not merely be fighting a war of borders. We will be facing a convergence of divine lineage and martial power that our kingdom has never been forced to contend with. We are looking at the potential erasure of our people’s voice from the northern continent."
Ragnar’s gaze swung back to Valerius, his eyes cold "Now, Valerius," Ragnar said, his voice a cutting demand. "Do you still believe that coexistence with the people of Björn is a viable path, even as we stand at the precipice of being silenced forever? Are you still so committed to the notion of peace that you would have us wait, idle and blind, while the bond between the Godlings and the Björn strengthens into an alliance that will inevitably crush us?"
He didn’t wait for a reply, instead turning his attention to the three Paragons, who were now fully alert.
"I am not asking for a debate on morality," Ragnar continued, his voice rising, resonating with a newfound, terrifying authority. "I am asking for a decision on our survival. If we do not move to disrupt this union now, we are choosing and waiting for our own end."
Valerius, who had been the architect of the pro-peace sentiment, looked as though he had been struck. He glanced toward the Paragons, seeking guidance, but their expressions were unreadable hardened by the grim reality Ragnar had laid bare.
Ragnar stepped away from the central dais, leaving the projection to flicker in the dim light, casting long, monstrous shadows across the council members. "I have laid out the truth. The question remains, will we face this storm as a united kingdom, or will we be buried in the ruins of our own hesitation?"
One of the Paragons, his expression set in deep frown broke the silence. "Why are we only being informed of this now? Why was this not brought before the council the moment it was first detected?"
Ragnar’s brow furrowed, his gaze darkening. "As I stated, I miscalculated. I dismissed their initial meetings as chance encounters between two royals. I believed it to be a fleeting curiosity, not the precursor to a strategic alliance. It was only when that curiosity hardened into a genuine friendship that the true threat became clear."
Ragnar let out a weary sigh, though his eyes remained sharp as he surveyed the room. "When I realized this was spiraling toward a crisis, I took my own precautions. I instructed my third son, who possesses a passion for the hunt to extend his territory into the Icy expanse, hoping he might cross their paths and discern the depth of their intent."
The effect was instantaneous. A ripple of profound shock surged through the council. The faces of the lords shifted from skepticism to a cold, creeping realization. Even the three Paragons, who had sat with the arrogant posture of equals, stiffened in their seats.
In that moment, the power dynamic in the hall shifted irrevocably. They had viewed themselves as peers, political rivals playing the same game, but Ragnar’s revelation stripped that delusion away. He was was a sovereign who had been maneuvering a grander board while they had been arguing over the merits of peace.
The gap between them was no longer just one of title or crown, it was one of vision. Ragnar foresaw a war, and he had been fighting it alone long before they were even aware it existed.
Ragnar observed the shift in the room, his expression unreadable. He offered a slight, dismissive shake of his head. "My son made contact, yes, but it was too late. By the time he reached the Icy expanse, a foundation had already been laid between Prince Leiko and Princess Lunara. I instructed him to maintain proximity, to observe, and to refrain from any act that might compromise his position or reveal his true intent."
He paced before the councils, his voice steady. "A fragile connection now exists between the three of them. My son reports that his rapport with Prince Leiko is far from optimal, they share a profound mutual disdain. Yet, through this friction, valuable intelligence flows. While the information regarding the Godlings and the Björn remains largely superficial, it is a window we did not have before."
The transformation in the hall was palpable and seemed to pulse with a new recognition of Ragnar’s long-term foresight.
"My King."
The title was no longer a formality of the court, it was a surrender of their previous posture. The respect in their voices was raw as the weight of Ragnar’s revelation settling over them. They finally grasped the true scale of the board. While they each possessed great personal power, Ragnar occupied a different realm entirely. By placing his own son at the nexus of the threat, he had effectively claimed the high ground. He was the only one with a direct line to the Godlings, a strategic proximity that fundamentally elevated his status above all others here.