Chapter 206 : Chapter 206
Chapter 206. Tutelage
They arrived at the Throne Hall.
The dome of the Throne Hall soared high overhead. Stained glass refracted the sunlight into brilliant patches of color that fell upon Kroll II’s golden throne.
Ministers and nobles were gathered around the long table, arguing heatedly. The supply lists on the parchment scrolls were pushed back and forth, and only when the sound of William’s boots crossing the floor rang out did every voice abruptly fall silent.
Dozens of gazes turned toward him at once.
Some held relief, some scrutiny, and others a probing intent hidden beneath the shadows of their formal hats.
William walked to the center of the hall, knelt on one knee, pressed his right hand against the left side of his chest, and performed a standard royal salute.
“Father, your son has returned.”
Kroll II’s golden crown gleamed softly under the light. He raised a hand, signaling for William to rise, and his voice carried a father’s warmth.
“It is good that you have returned. You have worked hard at Despair Fortress. Rest in the Royal Palace for a few days first, and let Mary and the others set their hearts at ease.”
Yet William straightened and swept his gaze over the assembled ministers. His tone was firm.
“Father, your son wishes to request permission to take on the task of attacking the Kadiya Kingdom.”
Low murmurs instantly rose throughout the hall.
A bearded noble had just been about to speak when Kroll II raised his hand and stopped him.
The old king’s gaze darkened slightly. He rose from the throne, his dragon-patterned court robe unfurling with the movement, carrying unquestionable majesty.
“William, my child, do you know what you are saying?”
He descended the steps and gripped William by the shoulder.
“Though the Kadiya Kingdom is weak, it controls the eastern trade route. A campaign against it must be advanced step by step with caution.”
“This time, the Royal Family’s Legend will lead the force, with the Gold Legion and Monster Legions coordinating. That will be enough to take it. You do not need to personally go on campaign.”
William had just been about to argue, but his father’s gaze stopped him. Kroll II turned toward the ministers, his voice rising by several degrees.
“All of you, listen clearly. From today onward, William will handle the affairs of state at my side. He must be present for the daily Military Intelligence Report and the noble council.”
He looked back at William, his tone softening, yet every word remained clear.
“What do you think a king’s duty is? To charge into battle? No.”
“It is to make sure the legions have grain to eat, to ensure that the nobles each perform their duties, and to let the people know that royal law exists.”
He pointed at the supply lists on the table.
“Behind these numbers are the lives of a hundred thousand soldiers. Those disputes over noble fiefs may seem small, but one move can affect the whole body. These are what you should be learning.”
“But I…”
“There is no but.”
Kroll II cut him off.
“You are the heir of the Kroll Kingdom, the future king. A general may die in battle, but a king must live and lead the kingdom forward.”
He patted William’s cheek.
“When you can understand the numbers on these scrolls, and when you can balance the scales between the nobles and the common people, it will not be too late to speak of war.”
The hall fell utterly silent. The ministers exchanged glances, clearly not surprised by the king’s decision.
A white-haired old minister stepped forward, bowed, and said, “His Majesty is wise. His Highness truly must become familiar with affairs of state before he can inherit the throne.”
William looked at the expectation in his father’s eyes, then at the mountain of piled-up scrolls. The restlessness in his heart gradually calmed.
He had always believed that strength and military merit were the foundation of a kingdom. Only now did he understand that the schemes and balances behind the throne might require even more courage than slaughter on the battlefield.
“Your son… obeys the decree,” he replied, lowering his head.
Only then did Kroll II reveal a smile and wave for the ministers to continue their discussion.
William stood behind his father and looked at the crowd arguing endlessly around the long table. For the first time, he felt that the smoke of battle within the Throne Hall might be no thinner than that on the battlefield of Zu’Aman City.
After two hours of debate, the discussion finally came to an end. The ministers and nobles bowed and withdrew, and the heavy wooden doors slowly closed behind them, shutting the clamor outside.
Only father and son remained in the Throne Hall. Sunlight passed through the stained glass and cast mottled patches of light and shadow across the floor.
Kroll II led William to the long desk in the side hall. The desk was piled high with memorials, and the edges of the parchment had already curled from being turned over again and again.
“Sit.”
The old king pointed at the wooden chair before the desk, then pulled over another chair and sat at the side.
William looked at the pile of memorials. Their covers were marked with words such as “tax revenue,” “fief disputes,” and “border grain and supplies.” His scalp immediately prickled. These things were far more complicated than swinging a sword and cutting down enemies.
“Pick up the first one,” Kroll II said.
William did as he was told and picked up the top memorial. After unfolding it, he saw that it was a document from a southern count requesting tax relief. The reason given was that last year’s drought had caused a poor harvest on his estates.
William frowned. “If the drought is true, then reducing the taxes is reasonable.”
“Reasonable?”
Kroll II raised an eyebrow.
“Do you know that last year, that southern count’s estates offered three times more grape wine to the Royal Capital than in previous years?”
He reached under the desk and drew out another scroll.
“This is a secret report from a tax official. His estates were not affected by the drought at all. He merely wants to use this opportunity to hoard grain.”
William froze. When he lowered his head and looked at the memorial again, the sincerity between the lines instantly appeared false.
“The second one.”
This time, it was a request from a border commander asking for additional troops, claiming that small groups of orcs had been harassing the border frequently.
William had just been about to approve it when his father pressed down on his hand.
“Look at this one first.”
Kroll II handed him a cavalry scout’s report.
“The scale of the orc harassment has never exceeded fifty men, while the border garrison has three thousand troops. What those border nobles truly want is to use the excuse of reinforcements to demand more grain and supplies from the Royal Capital so they can line their own pockets.”
After running into two walls in succession, William’s cheeks grew somewhat hot.
He had thought that every sentence written in the memorials was true. He had not known that so many twists and schemes were hidden behind them.
For the rest of the time, Kroll II guided him patiently.
He explained which memorials were nobles fighting for power and profit, which were officials whitewashing trouble, and which were urgent documents that truly concerned the livelihood of the people.
He taught William how to read intent between the lines, how to distinguish truth from falsehood through tone, and even how to use ambiguous replies to balance the power of different factions.
“Look at this memorial requesting the construction of an irrigation canal.”
Kroll II pointed at one of the scrolls.
“The Eastern Plains do indeed lack water, but the proposed route must pass through the fiefs of three nobles. They will certainly oppose it.”
“You may approve it, but you must add, ‘This must be negotiated with the fief lords, and no land may be seized by force.’ In this way, you throw the problem back to them and let them struggle against one another.”
William listened while taking notes. The tip of his pen moved across the parchment, gradually becoming smoother after its initial stiffness.
He discovered that within these seemingly dull memorials lay the lifeblood of the kingdom.
Tax revenue was its bones and sinews. The livelihood of the people was its flesh and blood. The relationships between nobles were its meridians. If even one place became blocked, it might trigger a grave illness.
By the time the sun sank in the west, half of the memorials on the desk had finally been dealt with.
William set down his pen. His wrist was already somewhat sore, yet he felt that he had gained more than he would have from winning a battle.
Kroll II looked at the faint sheen of sweat on his forehead and handed him a cup of warm water. “Tired?”
“I am not tired.” William shook his head. “I only never expected that governing a kingdom would be so much harder than leading troops to war.”
“It is difficult. That is why you must learn.”
Kroll II’s gaze was gentle yet firm.
“A general relies on courage. A king relies on balance.”
“When you can make the different forces within these memorials restrain one another while still serving the kingdom, you will truly be qualified.”
Outside the window, dusk gradually deepened. The candleflame on the long desk swayed softly in the wind.
William looked at the remaining memorials. For the first time, he did not feel vexed by them. Instead, a heavy sense of responsibility rose within him.