Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence - Chapter 657 - 381: Chaotic Dragon Throne Conference (Part 1)
Chapter 657: Chapter 381: Chaotic Dragon Throne Conference (Part 1)
This is a blatant power grab, and the Imperial Hall exploded in that instant.
The people in the Military Affairs Department, having misjudged his recovery by seventy to eighty percent, all straightened their backs, like they had been reignited.
The old nobility’s gazes sank, as any expansion of military authority would first tread on them.
The civil servants were tense, that alertness of “the system being forcibly bypassed” was instantly heightened.
Rheinhardt lifted his eyes, his movement unhurried, but it was as though his gaze was slicing through the air.
His glance didn’t truly meet Kaelin’s, but in that moment, the calm sharpness far surpassed anger.
He did not speak but gently closed the dossier in his hand, as if he had figured something out, and though not a big action, it tightened the backs of all the civil servants.
On the other side, Lampard remained motionless, his posture steady, as if he had been waiting for this moment all along.
His eyes showed no ripple, not even a hint of interest.
The local nobility, whose nascent thoughts of autonomy were quickly retracted under the strong pressure of the Military Affairs Department.
The new nobles turned pale; the expansion of military power meant they would be the first to be consolidated, the first to be sacrificed.
The pressure line rose too fast, causing all voices to converge in an instant, leaving only tense breathing.
Eleonor sat quietly, his fingers gently tapping by his knee, as if marking a silent beat to the chaos.
He brought the dispute forward to the very first moment.
The Fourth Prince Rheinhardt’s fingers paused lightly on the dossier, a subtle and concealed indication only readable to those with intent.
Thus, when Lin Ze prepared to speak, trying to bring the proceedings back to order.
Someone first stood up from the Civil Servant Seat, the Deputy Minister of Finance: “Military orders belong to the imperial authority. If easily delegated, the Empire ceases to be an Empire.”
Immediately, a second civil servant stood up, pointing directly at the heartland of the Military Affairs Department: “The Military Affairs Department has yet to clear traitors and Federation spies within its ranks. Under such circumstances, who will be responsible for the military orders?”
This openly questioned the stability of the Military Affairs Department, considering that just half a year ago nearly ten officials with ties to the Jade Federation were captured.
The Civil Servant Seat fell silent, not out of fear, but as a unified expression of their stance.
That organized silence felt more like a gust pressing against the Military Affairs Department than any outcry.
A representative from the Military Affairs Department couldn’t hold back a low curse.
Kaelin pressed his hand hard on the arm of the chair, the table emitted a dull sound, as if it would crack in the next moment.
The third person to stand was a civil servant from the Inspectorate. Without any preamble, he pointed directly at the sore spot: “The Second Prince recently recovered, is he suitable to assume such a heavy responsibility?”
This time, it was directly pointing out that it was the Second Prince who wanted the military authority, not the Military Affairs Department.
As these words fell, the entire Imperial Hall seemed to be clamped in the middle.
The air tensed rapidly, even the blue glow of the eternal flame seemed to pause a beat.
Kaelin’s expression remained unchanged, still cold, steady, and resolute, yet Eleonor could see this was him holding on.
Lin Ze warned: “Enough is enough.”
But the civil servants did not look at him.
For the first time in a hundred years, the civil servants openly questioned a prince’s capability in front of the throne.
Just as this spark had yet to hit the ground, Kaelin stood again, the stone surface lightly echoing with the vibration of his chair legs.
He pressed down his anger, unable to hold it completely, his tone heavy, carrying the directness and sharpness of a battle-hardened soldier: “I don’t need you to determine whether I am suitable.”
This was a firm voice, not loud, yet it was like a stabilizing force driven into the heart of the Imperial Hall.
Kaelin continued to sweep his gaze across the Civil Servant Seat, his eyes as cold as the winds of the Northern Territory: “The Empire is losing ground, and the casualties at the frontline of the Military Affairs Department are real; you sitting here picking words won’t regrow the lost lines of defense.”
He pressed down on each word, each sentence striking the face of a certain faction.
The expressions of the civil servant leaders turned icy, yet they did not retort.
The Second Prince’s presence was too overwhelming, this was the true imperial soldier’s anger being ignited.
Kaelin’s breathing became faster than before, his shoulders slightly tensing in restraint.
Anger was pushing upward, while rationality tried to suppress it.
This was an extremely dangerous state, still strong but on the verge of losing control.
Kaelin continued: “What I want is the authority to control military orders. Not sitting here waiting for another batch of Empire lives to be lost.”
These words almost tore the veneer of decorum off the meeting.
He didn’t shout, but the entire Imperial Hall seemed to be pulled onto a tighter line.
The Regent King remained silent, head lowered, lost in thought.
Rheinhardt still had his eyes downcast, fingers tapping lightly on the edge of the dossier, unhurried, unpanicked, yet sharp as if waiting for an opportunity.
Lampard was still like a transparent figure, but his eyes seemed to enjoy watching the cracks continue to spread.
Just as this tightly drawn line was about to snap, Lin Ze spoke loudly: “Silence——!”
The old man’s voice was amplified by the echo array in the Imperial Hall, like a heavy iron hammered into a stone wall, even causing the light of the eternal flame to tremble slightly.
Everyone instinctively quieted down.
The whispers from the Civil Servant Seat were forcibly cut off; the rage from the Military Affairs Department was suppressed back into the chest; even the breaths of the local nobility paused for half a beat.
Lin Ze stood upright, his gaze steady but carrying an unusual edge, it was a warning of “continue, and things will spiral out of control here and now.”
He leaned forward half a step, slightly bowing in the direction of the throne to express apology and that he was still within the bounds of propriety, before raising his voice:
“No faction may expand disputes before the throne on their own. All discussions will proceed sequentially.”
Every word and sentence seemed to drag the Imperial Hall from the turbulence back into the framework of etiquette.
Lin Ze was not defending the civil servants, nor the Military Affairs Department, he was defending the shaky, remaining order that belonged to the Empire.
And everyone understood: a step further, and it would be chaos.
Lin Ze’s reproach temporarily returned the Imperial Hall to the edge of control, but this was not the end of the chaos.
At this time, the Fourth Prince Rheinhardt finally gently closed the dossier.
This was the signal, his turn to act had arrived.
