My Players Are So Fierce

Chapter 183:



Louis the King, or more accurately, Louis IX.

This man, known in the outside world as a man of great talent and ability, had many nicknames, such as the Avenger of Silan, the Conqueror of Greenleaf Island, the Destroyer of Faith, the Steel King, and so on. However, the most important of these nicknames was undoubtedly “The King of Goldflowers.”

This fifty-five-year-old man was in the prime of his life, and given that humans in this world generally lived to be around one hundred and forty years old, his rule over the kingdom that had just been born thirty years ago would undoubtedly last for a considerable amount of time.

According to legend, King Louis was wise, steadfast, and majestic, possessing all the traits a legendary king should have.

Even the most stubborn Silan conservative nobles and the most radical Isa restorationists in the Great Council would put aside their disputes and listen to the advice and opinions of this king, and perhaps even the future “Emperor.”

Most admirable of all, despite holding real power, King Louis rarely interfered with the political or military decisions made by the Great Council after he formed it to reconcile the conflicts between the two major factions within the country.

If the exercise of power was also considered a talent and skill, then King Louis would undoubtedly be considered a Grandmaster-level in this regard.

He maintained the ambitions of his courtiers and councilors to control state affairs, but was also able to exert his ubiquitous influence in any place in a subtle way.

Although thirty years of operation had formed a standard process for the Great Council to manage the country, even the beggars on the streets of Goldflower Kingdom knew that if King Louis wished, he could still override or even abolish the Great Council overnight.

He was a king with real power, but he understood the importance of delegating authority!

Moreover, he had established a great vision of “reform” as the basis for the new nation’s identity, and whether it was the prime minister or the Great Council, or even those conservative nobles who were kept, they were all tools for him to realize this ambition and vision, being freely manipulated and controlled by the king who already enjoyed the hidden power behind the scenes.

Goldflower Kingdom was now brimming with vitality.

It was like a young person, proactive, aggressive, and hotheaded, exerting tremendous pressure on those around them while simultaneously being full of boundless energy.

Such was King Louis, who appeared flawless, but only those familiar with him knew that he had his own flaws.

For example, beneath that steadfast, solemn, and grave exterior, was a restless and weary soul who was forced to fulfill his duties. After all, King Louis’ youthful aspiration was to become the greatest poet and traveler in Silan, and he was a talented and somewhat dissolute man who had more than seven lovers by the age of nineteen.

Among them were an elf sage and a Sanghai priestess.

He did not become king by choice, but because his father and the brother who was designated as the heir were accidentally assassinated during a visit to the Isa Kingdom.

To put it bluntly, Louis IX, who was less than a month shy of his twentieth birthday at the time, was forced to ascend the throne. The first thing he did after being pushed onto the throne by the three major nobles and courtiers within the Silan Kingdom was to lead the recently reformed nation into a war of annihilation against another country!

He won.

And he did not find it difficult to win.

With the help of the Silver Dwarven Earth Priests, this dissolute prince took less than three months to enter the Misty Capital and forced the last king of the Isa Kingdom to marry his sixteen-year-old daughter, Princess Elizabeth, to him before committing suicide, thereby establishing the Goldflower Kingdom.

At this moment, General Lauren, who had hurried back from the front lines, met his majesty in the afternoon sunlight at the Goldflower Palace, also known as the Greenwich Palace, in his most beloved garden.

The latter was holding a banquet to entertain his most loyal and trusted general.

It was called a banquet, but it was actually just an exquisite afternoon tea.

The half-dwarf general sat on a gilded chair custom-made for his height, enjoying the emerald green forest black tea brought from the Antany region, while watching with interest the man before him reading 《The Carpe Travelogue》 in the sunlight.

That was his king.

He was also the sovereign he had been guarding since he first joined the army.

However, General Lauren could never forget that unsettling autumn thirty years ago.

When the news of the old king and the crown prince’s assassination reached the Silan Kingdom, he and a group of young guards went crazy searching for the then very dissolute prince all over Bourbon City, eventually finding him drunk in a painting studio and dragging him back to the palace from his bed.

General Lauren even remembered clearly!

He remembered pulling the equally naked young prince out from the embrace of three beautiful naked women.

Most outrageous of all, it was a mother and her two daughters.

Ahem, this was basically one of the most embarrassing incidents in King Louis’ dissolute youth, a personal secret that a king must keep hidden, and something buried in General Lauren’s heart.

Thirty years had transformed a wastrel into a majestic ruler whose mere cough could shake the continent, and after Goldflower Kingdom completed the direct annexation of the Portia Federation, the next step within the country might be to elevate King Louis to the imperial throne.

Given Goldflower Kingdom’s current territory and strength, it was fully qualified to be upgraded to an empire.

However, this was not easy on this continent, as a new emperor had to be recognized by the two ancient empires.

Of course, this was not about some damn “emperor review”, any leader with enough shamelessness could call themselves an “emperor.” However, an empire that was not recognized by an equal superpower was doomed to be isolated and exist only for its own amusement.

The Sanghai Empire, the land of origin, and the Ancient Calum Kingdom in the east were both terrifyingly vast territories with unimaginable populations that had existed for over 700 years as ancient superpowers.

When the tribes of Silan, Ket, and Nord were still playing “village battles” by riding horses and fighting wars on the continent, those two ancient countries had already existed.

Winning the joint recognition of the Pharaoh King and the Dragon Emperor was no easy feat, even for the current King of Goldflowers.

“Truly a fine romantic realist novel, but I guess the report originally submitted by the young Carpe family members was definitely not like this. The men of that family are so serious as to inspire awe, like my political advisor, Count Leon.”

The king laughed heartily as he placed the report, a third of which he had read, on the table, thoughtfully inserting a golden leaf bookmark inside.

He was like a gourmet who had been presented with a delicacy, unable to devour the delightful thing all at once, and intending to savor it slowly.

The king raised his teacup, reclining comfortably in his chair, gazing at his beloved garden and the palace maids in black and white uniforms strolling through it under the afternoon warmth.

This was his favorite place, one of the few where he could shed the mask of the majestic king and enjoy his own life.

The sunlight illuminated King Louis’ countenance, casting a soft glow over his solemn and elegant features. His meticulously groomed beard was like a work of art recording the passage of time, adding a touch of grandeur to his otherwise somewhat gentle face.

But if one looked closely, General Lauren could still discern traces of the mischievous young man King Louis had once been in his facial features.

“You’ve been watching me, Lord Frederick.”

King Louis put down his teacup, clearly displeased, and gave his most trusted general a mock angry stare, saying:

“So, has my Steel-Hearted General found something unclean on the king’s face?”

“Um, no, Your Majesty.”

The half-dwarf bowed slightly and answered solemnly, but then added in an odd voice:

“Only, there’s some lipstick left on your neck that hasn’t been wiped off.”

“Ah?”

King Louis immediately felt embarrassed and quickly took out his “royal handkerchief” to wipe his neck.

The general was not joking, there was indeed some lipstick residue there.

But it did not come from his “fair-faced confidantes” whom he had long since lost contact with, forgotten in the passing of time.

“Before summoning you, I was having lunch with Margaret and Elizabeth, you know how ladies’ passions can sometimes be indiscriminate.”

The king offered an explanation, and the general merely smiled without responding.

Countess Margaret, the most beautiful flower that could bloom in Silan.

The night before His Majesty’s ascension to the throne at the age of nineteen, he was already ardently pursuing this lady, and after his coronation, to maintain the dignity of a king, he cut off contact with all his lovers, except for Countess Margaret, who remained by his side, even giving birth to a healthy daughter for the king seven years ago.

This was a secret known to the upper circles of Goldflower Kingdom, but no one expressed dissatisfaction about it, even the most traditional conservative nobles dared not gossip about this matter.

Everyone was well aware that, were it not for political necessity, the nobly born Countess Margaret should have been King Louis’ one and perfect queen.

But the most outrageous of all the outrageous little stories about Louis IX was that, despite being only a political marriage, His Majesty and Queen Elizabeth’s relationship was as harmonious as that of a true husband and wife.

Five years ago, the queen gave birth to a healthy son for His Majesty, who was subsequently established as the heir, while Countess Margaret’s daughter was also ennobled as a princess.

Neither the queen nor the countess had any grievances about this.

This only attested to the present king’s talent in matters of love between men and women, truly no less than his skill in wielding power.

“Ah, you’re making that sly dwarven smile again, it’s really annoying, Lauren!”

The king no longer used the general’s formal surname but instead a more intimate form of address between them. He snorted, once more raising the teacup to his lips for a small sip, and said:

“Given your character, you must have come here specifically for more than just delivering this fine travelogue, so what else do you think is important enough that I must know? Speak up.”

“Please finish your tea first, Your Majesty.”

General Lauren produced a second document, saying in a low voice:

“I suspect that after you’ve read this, you’ll no longer be in the mood for tea.”

“Well, wait then, I don’t want some sudden, inappropriate bad news to ruin my decent mood today.”

King Louis nodded, then spent about ten minutes chatting with General Lauren about amusing battlefield stories while finishing his tea and eating a few rose-shaped cookies.

Only after the pleasant and leisurely afternoon tea time ended did he wipe his hands and take the second document.

This document was very short, only a few pages.

After all, it only spoke of a confirmed catastrophe and a few unfounded, irresponsible conjectures.

But the king read it very carefully.

Several minutes later, he closed the document, reached up to rub his brow, and said:

“Carpe’s report lacks evidence, but my mind tells me it is likely true. I trust my reason, but I still need to seek the opinion of my most trusted general.”

King Louis opened his eyes.

In the depths of those lover-like gentle deep blue irises flickered a glint of coldness and resolve.

He turned his gaze toward General Lauren, and under the lion-like stare, the half-dwarf general immediately stood at attention, awaiting orders.

The king spoke.

But he did not inquire about General Lauren’s opinion on the matter. Instead, he asked quite directly:

“If conflict arises, how many troops would you need to deploy to uproot the Circle Tower? I do not wish for the worst outcome of this affair to impact the upcoming national reforms.”

“That depends on how quickly you wish to resolve this conflict.”

The general cautiously presented the outline he had prepared, reporting methodically:

“If you require lightning action, I can immediately return to the Silver Citadel and liaise with my kinsman. With the help of the Silver Dwarven Earth Priests and the Gaia Guards, plus the full mobilization of the old Royal Guards, I can raze White Cliff to the ground within half a month!

However, you may need to be prepared for heavy casualties among the old Royal Guards, or even their disbandment.

If you can tolerate the war lasting six months, I will muster the Greenleaf Legions and the Pioneer Army, along with the recently surrendered Wolfsbane Clan’s assistance.

Under the combined assault of these three forces, we can erase the Circle Tower from the kingdom without impacting your reforms, while simultaneously draining the Wolfsbane Clan’s strength and seizing the opportunity to complete the final military reform of the Pioneer Army.”

“What if I want it done faster?”

The king stroked his beard, saying coldly in the sunlight:

“What if I want the fighting to end within three days of my rebuke reaching White Cliff? You know, Lord Frederick, what I cannot tolerate most is betrayal. It feels like a fire scorching my heart, like acid burning my stomach, leaving me restless.

I wish to see the traitors suffer, just as they have burdened me.”

“Three days, huh.”

General Lauren carefully considered, ultimately proposing:

“Then, while reaching out to the Silver Citadel and employing the Wolfsbane Clan, you may need to invite the Winter Wolf Church of the Nordtov Kingdom as king. After all, the only ones capable of swiftly defeating a group of Spirit Mages are another group of Spirit Mages. Since the collapse of the Avalon Church, we lack the kingdom’s spiritual power.

But this also means you will need to open Goldflower Kingdom’s religious domain to those Northerners, allowing their North Wind wolves to roam freely upon our lands.

You also know that after the demise of the Avalon Church, the spiritual realm of our people has become a wasteland, their impoverished souls thirsting for nourishment.

Yet this door cannot be opened!

Once we allow the Winter Wolf Church into the kingdom, Nordtov will have leverage over us.

After all, the two nations are destined for future conflict, and that Wolf Queen – forgive my bluntness, Your Majesty – is as unlikely to surrender on the battlefield, inheriting the bloodline and ambition of the Hero King Boris, as you are to conquer that 25-year-old girl with your masculine charm.

For you, the latter would be far more profitable than a war.”

“I’m pleased you praise my charm, but for you to view a 25-year-old girl as a target makes me feel you’re mocking me as an old lecher.

Let’s proceed with the first plan.”

King Louis tossed the document onto the table, closing his eyes and saying softly:

“I entrust you with command of the old Royal Guards. If the Circle Tower fails to provide me with a satisfactory explanation, then march on White Cliff!

I fully understand their importance to the kingdom.

But if those Spirit Mages think their importance allows them to act with impunity, then such a foolish force has no need to exist.

A dog that cannot distinguish its master is better put down sooner.

Ah, it’s an appetite-ruining affair!

I had hoped to be in a good mood this afternoon to listen to the noble councilors in the assembly bickering over petty gains, that would have been most amusing, but now, never mind.”

The king stood up, and a royal chambermaid immediately approached with items already prepared for His Majesty.

A lavishly decorated yet highly practical command sword, a national hero’s medal bearing the Goldflower Kingdom’s crest, and a field marshal’s ceremonial uniform adorned with blue cords.

“I had intended to announce this good news to you in good spirits, Lord Frederick, but now I must bestow upon you a soldier’s highest honor while sending you into another dangerous battlefield.

I hope you do not blame me for this.”

King Louis handed the command sword to his most trusted general with both hands, saying solemnly:

“Please continue to fulfill your duty as the king’s punishing blade, my Marshal Lauren.”

“Your Majesty, I am deeply honored! Of course, it would be even more perfect if this were a field marshal’s battle axe in keeping with dwarven style.”

General Lauren, no, Marshal Lauren received the command sword, adding a small quip. He then saw two royal handmaidens struggling to carry a dwarven-style lordly battle axe decorated with blue cords.

This made the marshal realize that his majesty had already made all the arrangements. He smiled, but still said with concern:

“Your Majesty, I do not fear war with the Spirit Mages, but now that the Black Disaster is approaching, perhaps…”

“With a great enemy upon us, it is time to eliminate internal threats. I need to give those Spirit Mages a lesson as searing as breaking bones.”

King Louis waved his hand, saying quite resolutely:

“Besides, can we not wage war without Spirit Mages? The faithless Shaldor Halflings have no significant Spirit Mages, yet that does not prevent them from standing tall on this continent. Their steam technology has become a force rivaling the spiritual arts, and that power is gradually falling into our grasp.

The Circle Tower must recognize this fact!

It is they who need the kingdom!

Not the kingdom that needs them!”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

Seeing that King Louis had made up his mind, Marshal Lauren crisply saluted and bade farewell as his sovereign left the garden.

He caressed the hilt of the marshal’s sword, his eyes flashing with determination.

Hah, Spirit Mages.

You dared to exploit the dwarves, now you will truly pay the price.


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