I Got Isekai’d, Well Shyt!

Vol.4 Ch.225 Duval the Spineless.

Vol.4 Ch.225 Duval the Spineless.

It was three days before Quinus and his Entourage finally arrived at the grand Capital City of Tairal. Situated in the southern outskirts of the city stood the magnificent Ecros Manor, the ancestral home of the esteemed Noble Wrightwood family. This stately manor served as Duval's residence during his frequent visits to the capital city of Tairal. As the Prime Minister of Fiafyr, Duval found himself drawn to the city often, and the grandeur of Ecros Manor provided a fitting abode for his stature and responsibilities. And the Prime Minister had special guests staying at his home.

The distinguished visitors included representatives from the Alliance of the Divine Three, a coalition of kingdoms situated along Fiafyr's southern frontier.

The gathering at the Marquess' residence comprised ten restless individuals, all humans, who were seated impatiently in the living room.

In attendance were Prince Zane Stoneworthh, his half-sister Princess Hilda Stoneworthh, and Prince Terenthiel Marrell, who was also known as the Fifth Son of the Holy Order. Additionally present were the valiant paladin, Sir Darius, and his devoted squire, Sir Kaelin. The assembly also included a High Priest, several White Knights, and a few others accompanying Terenthiel Marrell.

The reason for their impatience stemmed from their inability to secure an audience with King Cyndre Meredydd or his son, Crown Prince Quinus. They were aware that the prince had been dispatched to the west with a small contingent of royal knights to address a crisis involving a stampede of monsters, but this had occurred over two months ago. Adding to their concern, Duval received word two days ago that the Crown Prince had developed feelings for another woman. Initially, King Cyndre had been ambiguous about the identity of this woman, but it was only on the day of Prince Terenthiel's arrival that he learned she was a dark elf.

For days, they have been attempting to secure an audience with the King to discuss the future of the two countries and the impending marriage between Crown Prince Quinus Meredydd and his fiancée, Princess Hilda Stoneworthh. Meanwhile, Duval has been frantically searching for a solution to rid the Kingdom of the Dark Elf. If the Divine Three were to discover that the prince allowed a dark elf into the Kingdom, it could nullify the peace treaty and potentially spark an open war in an attempt to eradicate the Dark Elf.

Duval needed to find a way to persuade the King to either banish the Dark Elf or subject them to an even harsher punishment.

***

As Prime Minister Duval sat in his dimly lit living room, surrounded by his foreign guests, the weight of his responsibilities bore down on him. He spent countless hours deep in thought, desperately seeking a way to convince the King and the Prince to listen to his advice. It pained him greatly to see the Prince being deceived by a Dark Elf out of sheer desire, as it seemed clear that this infatuation was a ploy. The Prince's willingness to jeopardize the fate of the Kingdom for his own gratification was both exasperating and deeply concerning. And the King didn't seem to be making much effort to rectify the situation.

"Why do you look so worried, Prime Minister?" Terenthiel asked in a bored tone.

Terenthiel's voice echoed throughout the grand living room, shattering the tranquility and causing Marquess Duval to jump slightly in surprise.

He looked up to see the Fifth Prince staring at him with a frown. He was a handsome young man with long black hair tied in a ponytail, and he was his cousin once removed. Terenthiel was Duval's only link to the Order of the Ones. It allowed the Prime Minister to contact the three heads of the Alliance: Prophet Paul, High King Rolmund III, and Prince Dreyand Stoneworthh, also known as the Third Son of the Order.

Terenthiel was the fifth highest-ranking member of the principality. He would have been the King of his kingdom, but ever since his father joined the alliance, the royal family was stripped of its rights when they adopted their new Gods. He still had power and prestige within the Alliance, but he had to answer to those above him.

Terenthiel was seated regally in his High Paladin armor, resplendent in a full set of gleaming silver-white plate armor adorned with intricate engravings. A pristine white tabard lay over his chest, emblazoned with the symbol of the Order of the Three. The symbol, a radiant gold sun encircled by three triangles reminiscent of the Triforce from the Zelda series, shimmered with an otherworldly brilliance.

The old wooden chair emitted a low, ominous creak as Terenthiel shifted his weight forward. He fixed his gaze upon the Prime Minister, anticipation hanging in the air as he awaited a response.

"I'm just a bit troubled," Duval finally answered as his throat was starting to feel dry.

"Troubled by the fact that we haven't been able to get a meeting with your King?" Terenthiel replied in a low tone. "Or are you troubled by the fact that you are wasting my time, which is more important than any King or Queen?"

Duval's body tensed involuntarily in response to the sharp and commanding tone that Terenthiel had used.

"N-No! I am just worried about what the Duke will do, is all. He is the biggest obstacle for our two countries to continue working together," Duval answered with a half-truth because he feared what Terenthiel might do if he told the truth.

"Duke Alaric Revelia? What about him?" Terenthiel raised an eyebrow.

"He and his Allies are more hawkish when it comes to the Alliance. I just received news that his sole heir perished in the Tomb of the Horde. I'm on edge, wondering what his next move will be... And Alaric always seems to outmaneuver me at every turn."

Terenthiel narrowed his eyes, "So you're incompetence is showing?"

The blood nearly drained from Duval's face. His gamble on weakening Alaric's influence throughout the minor noble families had failed, and his fear of an uprising caused by Alaric's execution might have been an overcalculation on the Marquess' part.

"N-no! I just don't want another war, especially since we are close to winning against the monsters. With the arranged marriage between Crown Prince Quinus and Princess Hilda, we can finally have peace. The alliance between the Divine Three and the Kingdom of Fiafyr was made possible by the treaty we signed. If war were to break out—" Duval was interrupted.

"We are already in a war," Terenthiel said in a calm but stern tone. "You just aren't on the front lines fighting it."

The atmosphere in the room was heavy with tension as the two men locked eyes. Duval could feel a lump forming in his throat, making it hard to swallow. Despite his efforts to stay composed, he sensed the mounting pressure inside him, like a coiled spring ready to snap. He took a deep breath before responding.

"Prince Terenthiel... We don't see the need to fight the dwarves or the beastkins. We are only worried about the ogres and orcs beyond the western wall. Do what you want on your borders. We will not stop you, but please—"

"Your ancestors made a terrible mistake accepting those impure beings into your kingdom. Purging them is the only way for those dwarves to find salvation. The same goes for the beastkins and the elves. Those vile beings should all be killed for their sins," Terenthiel cut off Duval's speech and glared at the Prime Minister. "As for the orcs and ogres, it is only a matter of time before they are dealt with. The Horde is already on the verge of extinction with the guidance of the Three."

Duval felt his pulse quicken as his chest tightened. The Marquess knew he had no say in the matter, but he couldn't help himself from speaking out.

"But we can't! My people wouldn't stand for it. The Galfrei Domain may have dwarves living there, but they helped our kingdom grow strong," Duval countered.

"You mean, weakened... Maybe we should help you with your problem."

"What?!"

"I'm sure your people would gladly accept our help in cleansing your kingdom if the monsters and that heretic of a goddess that resides within your temples are purged from existence. Their reign has gone on for far too long, giving those around them the freedom to corrupt your people. We will make sure she is dealt with and that the Divine Ones can watch over your kingdom. You will have the power of the Alliance behind you, and we will make sure the heretics are gone," Terenthiel said with a small smile. "All you need to do is allow us to set up one of our temples. A place where the people can worship the Three and bring their sins and grievances to the priests to heal their souls from the Goddess' corruption."

Duval felt a chill run down his spine as he reminisced about the day he arrived at Alaric's grand manor nearly two decades ago. It was in the aftermath of the Duke's conviction for conspiring to assassinate the young crown prince. King Cyndre had initially intended to sentence his older brother, Alaric, to death, but Duval managed to persuade the King to opt for severe financial penalties instead in a bid to weaken Alaric's grip on the lesser noble families. Despite this, Alaric had somehow maintained his influence over them for years.

Duval had believed that Alaric had secured their loyalty through financial means. However, after a decade of receiving 75% of Alaric's taxes and siphoning 50% of his coffers to the Royal Treasury, Duval found it increasingly challenging to sway the minor noble families to his side. He was forced to pour significant amounts of his own resources and wealth into prying a few of them away, all while struggling to retain the support of the major noble houses to maintain his position as Prime Minister.

He found it perplexing why these lesser nobles remained loyal to Alaric no matter what incentives were presented to them. He began to wonder if they genuinely admired Alaric or if his influence and charm were simply too compelling. He recognized that he lacked such influence and that his continued hold on power relied on his subservience to the major noble houses. However, he sensed that their loyalty to him was beginning to waver, and he knew that if Alaric managed to unite the majority of noble families against him and incite a rebellion, his reign would be at an end.

Duval was vehemently opposed to the idea of another war, yet the prospect of being completely powerless was equally daunting to him.

He had never fully grasped the Duke's warning until now. The Duke had warned him that the Alliance sought to seize control of the Kingdom and that launching a preemptive invasion into the Holy Alliance would be in Fiafyr's best interest. The Marquess was deeply troubled by this, recalling ancient tales of powerful human civilizations banding together to form empires in order to protect themselves. In these stories, the empires ultimately fell when an external force invaded and subjugated them, leading to the creation of new, smaller kingdoms from the remnants.

Duval's apprehension grew as he contemplated the potential transformation of the Kingdom of Fiafyr into an empire. The kingdom held significant power and influence within the Agon Continent, possibly even on a global scale. This realization fueled his deep-seated fear of the possible destruction of the Fiafyr Kingdom, as well as the extinction of his family's lineage and the entire Wrightwood clan.

"No... Our people love the goddess, and bringing in new ones would anger them. We barely have any beastkins tribes outside our borders, and the Dwarves have lived alongside our kingdom for many generations, and they are good people."

"Are they?" Terenthiel tilted his head slightly. "The dwarves are a greedy race that loves their rocks, and the beastkins are savage beings that are loyal to no one except themselves as they battle to become the alpha of their pitiful little packs. Those creatures would be better off dead than serve the Divine Ones."

Duval remained silent, his thoughts consumed by his unwavering devotion to Goddess Iyomelka. The mere idea of a Temple of the Divine Three being constructed within his country left him grappling with the potential repercussions it could have on his people.

"Prime Minister," Terenthiel spoke again. "We are offering you a rare opportunity to save your kingdom, but your hesitation is concerning. You should think very carefully about your decision to save your people."

Duval found himself in a precarious situation, akin to a mouse ensnared by a snake. On one front, he grappled with the challenge of addressing the Dark Elf who had captured the crown prince's affections while simultaneously maintaining his influence over the Major Noble Lords to maintain his position as the Prime Minister. Additionally, he faced the looming threat of an uprising from Alaric and his allies, all while being menaced by his sole link to the Alliance.

His options were dwindling, and he felt a growing sense of desperation as he searched for a solution.

'I-I need to bring up an emergency meeting! I have to inform the major families about this dark elf! We need to prevent her from entering the capital, and if we must, we will have to eliminate her. But I need the backing of the Major Lords.'

Duval felt the urge to step away and instruct his aide to dispatch the messages, initiating the Emergency Session in private. However, Terenthiel maintained a stoic expression, seated directly across from him, clearly unimpressed.

"Ahem! I will take it under consideration, for now, my prince..." Duval said after clearing his throat. The Prime Minister resorted to a diversion tactic, a strategy he often employed to shift the focus away from a particular subject when necessary. Duval looked down and stared at Terenthiel's armor with a puzzled look on his face.

"If I may ask, don't you find it... uncomfortable?"

"Hm?" Terenthiel did not notice Duval's strange behavior, but then he realized he was looking at his armor. "It may be uncomfortable to wear this armor every day since I came here. But it brings me closer to the Divine Three," Terenthiel stated.

Duval gave him a skeptical look, "But the heat is unbearable. You should make yourself at home, My Prince."

"The heat is only a reminder of the Three's love and light for their believers. It is a gift from the Divine Three, and the only thing I could ever want is their blessings, and?..." Terenthiel locked eyes with Duval, his gaze piercing through him like a predator stalking its prey. "And their protection."

Duval could feel tiny beads of sweat starting to form on his forehead, a physical manifestation of his growing anxiety.

"You need their protection? From what?"

Terenthiel smirked, "Protection from my enemies..."

Duval felt a new lump in his throat, "B-But we have a peace treaty—"

"That hasn't been finalized until Princess Hilda and Crown Prince Quinus are married, and the treaty is sealed with the consummation of their marriage. At the moment, I'm just a guest, but who knows, my people and I could end up being prisoners... Prime Minister," Terenthiel interrupted Duval.

Duval needed to tread lightly to prevent the Prince's paranoia from worsening, but he also needed to keep the Prince happy until he dealt with this Dark Elf.

"W-We will do everything we can to protect you and your men. You and your companions are our esteemed guests. No harm will come to you as long as you are under the Major Lords' protection. I will personally ensure that you and your men are safe from any harm," Duval tried to keep his cool. "And we wouldn't imprison you if we broke the treaty. We just ask you to leave, My Prince."

Terenthiel smirked again, "I hope you're true to your words, Prime Minister."

Duval could feel the beads of sweat trickling down his forehead, unsure whether it was due to the oppressive heat or the chilling effect of Terenthiel's words. He couldn't discern if Terenthiel's remarks were meant in jest or as a form of intimidation, but the intensity in the prince's gaze left Duval with no doubt that there was no humor behind his words.

"I'm a man of honor, Your Highness... And if you don't mind... I have to use the bathroom for a moment... If you and your men need any refreshments, the servants will bring them out to you."

"Thank you for your hospitality, Prime Minister. But what we need is to see the King..."

"Of course... I will get that squared away as soon as possible. I will return shortly."

Duval rose from his chair with a sense of urgency and swiftly left the room to prepare the necessary paperwork for an emergency session. As he departed, he knew that time was of the essence and he had a considerable amount of planning ahead.

***

In the living room, every person present watched as the Prime Minister made his way out of the room. Duval made an effort to maintain his composure while Sir Darius cast a piercing glare in the Prime Minister's direction.

"Terenthiel, why did you push him like that?" Prince Zane asked.

"Because he's stalling... For what reason, I do not know," Terenthiel replied.

"Tsk!... He is spineless and a coward... How did someone of his ilk come from the same family as you, Fifth Son?" Sir Darius asked.

Terenthiel glanced over at the paladin, "He's a distant cousin, Sir Darius. He lacks my faith and conviction. But don't mistake his spinelessness with cowardice. When one lacks a spine, it makes them annoyingly flexible."

"Annoying?" Zane asked with a raised brow.

"Yes... You can try to push him and bend him all you want, but in the end, he'll bounce back like rubber. He is from my family tree, so he has some conviction, but it's weak. He will bend if you put enough pressure on him, and if you let him be, he'll snap back to his original position when you least expect it. So, never go easy on him, understand?"

"Hahaha!" Darius chuckled at his Lord's remarks. "You should have pushed him a little harder."

"No... We won't push him any further for now, but if he continues to take us for fools, we'll have to up the ante."

Zane and Darius acknowledged the conversation with nods while Hilda remained seated in the corner, accompanied by her personal maid named Dori. Throughout the discussion between the three men, Hilda maintained a composed expression, showing little emotion as she listened intently. She didn't say anything to Duval, but she could tell he was intimidated by Terenthiel's appearance.

'So... This is going to be my life now... Just an object for political gain...'

Hilda found herself confined indoors, forbidden from venturing outside. As a result, she remained completely unaware of the customs and societal expectations within the Kingdom of Fiafyr.

In this unfamiliar environment, all she had for company was her devoted personal maid, Dori, and her cherished collection of books. Despite having undergone extensive etiquette training and lessons, she couldn't shake the feeling that it made little difference in her current surroundings.

"My Lady, are you okay?" Dori whispered in her ear.

Hilda was so lost in thought that she didn't even notice her hand resting gently over her chest.

"I'm fine... I think..." Hilda whispered back.

Hilda remained oblivious to the fact that Zane and Terenthiel had both turned their attention in her direction. The two princes exchanged a knowing glance, indicating that they were thinking the same thing.

'She's beautiful...' They both thought.

Terenthiel's heart raced as he gazed at Hilda. She was truly captivating. Her long, flowing red hair cascaded down her pale skin, accentuating her beauty. Despite knowing that she had been chosen to be Quinus' wife, he couldn't help but feel a strong desire to claim her for himself, even though her allure was deemed sinful by the Divine Three.

Zane shared the same sentiment. His half-sister was undeniably stunning and exuded beauty. However, he couldn't shake off the words of his mother, who had warned him about her. She had described her as a product of his father's unfaithfulness, implying that she couldn't be relied upon to be a faithful wife. As a result, he felt compelled to maintain a certain level of distance. But the fact that she's his half-sister and his father ordered him to make sure she consummated her wedding night made him wonder how far he could go.

"Well, Princess... You will serve the Divine Three as a proper servant when the time comes, understand?"

"A servant..." Hilda repeated.

"Yes, a servant," Terenthiel reaffirmed.

Hilda remained silent, her gaze fixed on Terenthiel. The way he looked at her made her skin crawl with an overwhelming sense of revulsion. Ever since Hilda emerged victorious in the trials to choose Prince Quinus' future bride, Prince Terenthiel has been casting lingering, unsettling glances in her direction.

"Princess, make sure you carry his children. For they are the key to this country's salvation," Darius added.

Hilda nodded slowly, her eyes downcast, hoping to divert their attention away from her.

'So I'm a servant to the Divine Three... How can Gods be so cruel... I don't know what I can do... But I need to get out of this situation. Especially if the Crown Prince is as cruel as my father and brothers say. I need to get out, but how?' She thought as Hilda felt helpless.

Hilda sat in the dimly lit room, her heart pounding with fear and anxiety. She could do nothing but wait, her only wish being that someone would arrive to rescue her from this nightmarish situation.