Yuri’s worries were something Riezel knew nothing about, but he could naturally tell that this audience would be on an unprecedented scale.
He didn’t recognize Florent Borley at first, yet the moment he saw the Sword Saint Medal pinned to the man’s chest—the same medal he himself possessed—he immediately understood who the other was.
He didn’t recognize the ten knight captains and their vice-captains either, but judging from the Sword Master Medals on their chests and the equipment they wore—so clearly different from the standard equipment—he knew they weren’t ordinary people.
As for Ferras Lacremis, Riezel actually recognized this old man right away.
After all, the original Riezel had been a student of Spriller Academy, so how could he not know the old man?
Even though, unlike Yuri, he had never received personal instruction from him, as a genius with the natural talent to become a Tactical-Class Magician, the original Riezel had still been highly valued by Spriller Academy, so he had been fortunate enough to attend the annual academic lecture conducted by this father-figure of the world of magic himself.
Even if he hadn’t taken one of the academy director’s classes, the original Riezel had at least seen Ferras during ceremonies such as the opening convocation, for the man would always deliver a speech, and always as the final speaker.
For this reason, while Riezel failed to recognize many others, this man he recognized instantly.
Yet precisely because of that, Riezel found himself thinking the same thing as Yuri.
’Even he’s here?’
Riezel’s gaze deepened as he looked at Ferras, then turned toward Hendrick, who sat composed upon the throne.
Hendrick, too, was looking at Riezel.
Just as during their first audience, his expression was kind and his eyes calm, as though he were looking upon a gifted talent—his face radiated appreciation and warmth, as if nothing unpleasant had ever happened between them.
From his demeanor alone, one might not have believed that this same man had orchestrated such a grand scene merely because Riezel had requested an audience.
"It’s been a while, Sir Brynhart." Hendrick greeted first, his tone friendly.
"Your Majesty." Yuri was the first to respond, suppressing her thoughts as she bowed respectfully.
"Your Majesty." Riezel said calmly, without bowing.
Unlike before, no one thought his attitude was inappropriate this time.
Riezel was, after all, no longer a minor celebrity visiting the king alongside the Frenzel family’s marquis but now a Sword Saint whose name echoed far and wide.
A man who bore the Sword Saint Medal had the right to kneel or not before any ruler of any country.
Hence, when Riezel spoke in an even tone to Hendrick, no one around found it improper.
Soon, however, that sense of calm would vanish from every heart in the hall.
"You’ve really given me quite the surprise, Sir Brynhart." Hendrick said warmly and cheerfully. "Marquis Mavros has already informed me of your deeds through his letters. I truly didn’t expect that someone as young as you could defeat even Marquis Mavros. As I thought, I wasn’t wrong about you—you’re a super-genius with boundless potential, destined to make your name resound across the entire Akasha Continent."
At these words, many in the throne room exchanged glances, their eyes subtly shifting.
Some already knew what had happened in the Mavros Territory, but others did not.
Yet, regardless of their knowledge, the claim that Riezel had defeated Raven Mavros—the Guardian Sword Saint who guarded the kingdom’s border so fiercely that Reiburg’s army dared not cross it—was shocking enough.
Especially when they looked at Riezel’s unnaturally young face and remembered that he was only seventeen and had just recently become a Sword Saint—the shock in their hearts deepened even further.
Guardian Sword Saint Raven Mavros—an old veteran among Jinas’s top three Sword Saints—had been defeated by such a young newcomer?
If the event hadn’t already become the talk of the continent, none of them would have believed such a thing possible.
’No wonder His Majesty gathered us here for this audience.’
Many, more or less, thought like this to themselves, assuming that the reason Hendrick had summoned so many high-ranking figures at once was precisely because of the fact that Riezel had defeated the Guardian Sword Saint.
A Sword Saint that young was already a figure worthy of any country’s attention, and now that he had proven capable of besting one of the old guard, the audience with him naturally couldn’t be treated lightly.
Yet their reasoning was abruptly shattered by Riezel’s next words.
"Let’s skip the meaningless pleasantries, shall we?" Riezel said, his tone calm—almost too calm. "Since Your Majesty went to all this trouble to arrange such a formation, I doubt it was just to have a nice, friendly talk with me, was it?"
These words instantly tore away any façade of courtesy between them, laying bare the tension and coming conflict for all to see.
"Ri-Riezel!"
Yuri hadn’t expected Riezel to be so direct and instinctively called out.
A murmur rippled through the room as everyone looked to one another.
Most of them didn’t even know what Hendrick had done, nor why Riezel had requested this audience.
In such confusion, Riezel’s blunt and fearless words left not only bystanders stunned, but even Florent and Ferras gave him long, meaningful looks.
At this moment, the smile on Hendrick’s face had disappeared.
He hadn’t expected Riezel to be so brazen in this setting, giving him no face at all, yet he didn’t grow angry. Not because he was afraid, but because he was far past the age of impulsive temper, he would not lose composure so easily in front of others.
After a brief silence, Hendrick resumed smiling and spoke again.
"No, quite the opposite." Hendrick said with a calm grin. "It’s precisely because I wanted to have a good, good, good talk with you that I arranged such a grand scene."
His implication was clear—without such a display, Riezel might not realize how serious he was, nor give him a fair chance to speak.
Hendrick truly didn’t wish for a confrontation, though he couldn’t be sure Riezel felt the same, which was why he had arranged all this—to make Riezel hesitate, to ensure he would restrain himself when Hendrick began to speak his mind.
Unfortunately...
"You don’t really understand me, Your Majesty." Riezel said coolly. "If I truly wanted to fight, if I truly had no interest in talking, then no matter how strong a formation you prepared—even ten times stronger than this—I still wouldn’t hesitate."
At this, Hendrick’s expression darkened, and cold glints flickered in the eyes of those around him.
Several men took a subtle step forward—some even placed a hand upon their sword or staff, clearly unable to tolerate Riezel’s arrogance.
"Stand down."
Hendrick’s sharp voice suddenly cut through the tension.
""Yes, Your Majesty!""
At Hendrick’s sudden voice, those who had stepped forward froze, then withdrew at once.
Still, the atmosphere in the throne room had grown thick with hostility, heavier and more dangerous than before.
"Sir Brynhart is far more impulsive than I expected..." Hendrick said in a low voice. "I’d always thought that though you’re young, you were calmer and more composed than your peers—not one to act rashly."
"Is that really what you thought, Your Majesty?"
Riezel replied calmly, sounding blunt as ever.
"If I weren’t impulsive, I wouldn’t have stormed into the Mavros family and fought Marquis Mavros face-to-face."
"If I weren’t impulsive, I wouldn’t have taken Lizbeth to the ancient ruin in the Neutral Territory, knowing full well how much Your Majesty loathes that place."
"If I weren’t impulsive, I wouldn’t have so publicly insulted Sigmund Bayard—and burned down his City Hall."
"If I weren’t impulsive..."
Riezel’s lips curved faintly.
"Your third son would still be out there biting people like a mad dog—alive and kicking, wouldn’t he?"
Each sentence struck the room like a hammer, and the faces of those present changed again and again—even Hendrick’s expression had lost its former calm.
It was only natural.
Riezel’s words were packed with explosive revelations.
It was one thing that he had stormed the Mavros family and dueled the marquis, but he had also entered the forbidden ancient ruin in the Neutral Territory, crossed paths with Sinielle’s Sword Saint, and even burned down his City Hall?
And that last line—was he implying that the third prince’s serious injury hadn’t healed because he was the one who had done it?
He had just admitted, before the king himself, that he was the one who had crippled his son?
Now, the people stared at Riezel not only in shock but with disbelief and alarm.
And under all their gazes, Riezel continued to speak, still with that faint, unreadable smile.
"I actually am impulsive—most people just don’t get the chance to see it."
"Your Majesty, you, on the other hand, should know what I’m like when I lose my temper. You’ve been keeping a close eye on me, after all."
"So, tell me—why would you ever think I wasn’t the impulsive type?"
Why?
It was mainly because Riezel always carried himself with such calm indifference that everyone got that wrong impression.
Now that Riezel had said it outright, Hendrick suddenly realized it himself—this young man only seemed composed and serene, but in truth, he had done quite a few reckless things.
It seemed the grand formation he had arranged today wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
In the next moment, Hendrick’s smile finally vanished as he fixed his eyes on Riezel.
"Am I to take it, Sir Brynhart, that you are challenging me, the royal family, or perhaps even the Kingdom of Jinas itself?" Hendrick asked in a quiet, steady tone.
Riezel, surprisingly, did not deny it.
"Well, that depends on the kind of answer Your Majesty can give me." Riezel replied coolly. "It’s about time you returned Lizbeth to me, Your Majesty."
At these words, frowns appeared across the audience, while Hendrick narrowed his eyes.
"It seems you and your attendant share quite the bond..." Hendrick said expressionlessly. "To think you’d dare confront the king of a great country over an attendant—no wonder you call yourself impulsive."
As these words fell, the people around them were finally beginning to catch on.
Apparently, the reason the Lightning Sword Saint was being so defiant was that the king had detained his attendant.
Understanding this, their expressions turned strange.
Riezel, however, paid them no mind.
"If I hadn’t heard she was only under confinement, I might’ve acted even more impulsively." Riezel continued, staring straight at Hendrick. "Judging from Your Majesty’s tone, it sounds like you don’t plan to release her?"
"You’re phrasing that wrong." Hendrick replied smoothly. "I’ve simply asked one of my own kin to stay by my side for a while—what’s there to say about ’releasing’ anyone?"
Such an answer left quite a few people bewildered.
Own kin?
Who?
Riezel’s attendant?
Did the king have a relative serving as his attendant?
It should be noted that the fact that Lizbeth—the ninth princess—had become Riezel’s attendant was a closely guarded secret.
If word spread that a princess of the royal family had been sent to serve as someone’s attendant, it would severely damage the royal family’s dignity and reputation.
Because of this, the truth about Riezel’s attendant being the ninth princess was known only to a select few of extremely high rank.
Florent was one of those in the know, and so was Ferras.
However, aside from these few, most of those present had no idea that Riezel’s attendant was in fact the ninth princess herself, let alone why Hendrick had suddenly placed his own kin under confinement.
As for Riezel, he still didn’t care about any of that.
"I already said it—let’s skip the meaningless pleasantries." Riezel said, his gaze on Hendrick growing colder. "Either Your Majesty returns Lizbeth to me and gives me a proper explanation, or I’ll fetch her myself and then come back to demand one. Choose, Your Majesty."
It was a final ultimatum, a last warning to the king of a great country on the Akasha Continent.
Hearing the tone behind Riezel’s words, many in the room looked at him with fury, their eyes sharp and glacial. Even Hendrick’s own eyes finally betrayed anger, his face darkening with barely contained rage.
"I believe I’ve already treated you with more than enough courtesy, Riezel Brynhart." Hendrick said deeply, each word cold and heavy.
Riezel answered with only one line.
"Empty, calculated courtesy with ulterior motives—you don’t seriously think that works on me, do you?"
At this, even the last scrap of civility between them was torn apart.
"Hahahahaha—!!!"
Hendrick suddenly broke into loud laughter.
"Very well, then I’ll speak plainly too."
"Yes, I’ve confined her."
"But if you want her back, that depends on whether you truly have the right to be as impulsive as you claim."
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[A bonus Chapter for every 500 Power Stones.]
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