The Bode Clan’s act of splitting the nation caused a tremendous uproar in Valenbuer.
Throughout history, the Beamon are harsh towards enemies and harsher towards traitors.
Moreover, the Beamon have never had a tradition of compromise. Even when humans were at the height of their power, the Bimon Kingdom, knowing well it was outmatched, resolutely fought in the Battle of Hyjal once the banner of division was raised; even if it meant retreating dejectedly to the Donau Wasteland under the dim glow of the setting sun, Beamon remained steadfast and without regret. This content belongs to novel_fіre.net
The Summer Palace guards, returning to Valenbuer after the Cloud Mist Mountain campaign, were nearly all young military officers. Upon learning this news, all the soldiers fervently demanded that the overlord immediately march on Caiyu City and wipe the traitors’ city off the map.
Brut, the Pontiff, was also the first to notify Richard of this news with exactly this intention.
If Richard were a Beamon who acted without thinking after being incited by hot blood, he might indeed immediately deploy troops to Caiyu City, shattering the traitors into irreparable fragments.
Unfortunately, he was not a true Beamon.
Many people overly trusted Richard’s usual radical and impulsive demeanor, ignoring his meticulous nature and ended up being thoroughly outsmarted by him.
Richard wasn’t particularly adept at seeing the big picture or strategic foresight, but he knew who was good for him and who was not.
If someone he had grievances with offered him advice, he would definitely give it good consideration.
Unfortunately, Pontiff Brut had never seen eye to eye with him.
With such a major incident occurring, it stood to reason that it would be His Majesty the King who informed him of what happened, rather than Pontiff Brut interfering.
For such a profoundly simple reason, Richard was not about to recklessly send troops to Caiyu City.
Using advanced communications, Richard dialed Sal’s bone link.
At first, it was always the chamberlain who answered the bone link, consistently saying His Majesty was in a meeting and couldn’t break free. It was only two hours later that he finally got in touch with Sal.
"Hmm... I’m still dealing with this matter, but you mustn’t be swayed by the Pontiff’s instigations! Everything has two sides and cannot be judged solely from one angle." His Majesty the King told old Liu in his usual wise and calm tone: "The division of the Bode Clan, to put it bluntly, is due to our Bimon Kingdom’s weakness! If our national strength were strong, who would dare to split off? Before it was Monk and Valenbuer, now it’s Smey, and Medusa who has fled to distant lands; which one of them isn’t the same? In this regard, ultimately, it’s my fault as the king. It is I who have failed to lead everyone onto the broad road of prosperity, making them see no hope or future, forced to bet on tomorrow with their own hands."
"Your Majesty, stop joking around!" Richard was furious: "According to what you’re saying, does it mean that any son who becomes capable can just kick out his parents? We’re a nation, not a gang of ruffians; there’s no such thing as disbanding whenever you please!"
"Richard, calm down for a moment! As the king, I’m even angrier about this than you, the God’s spokesperson, but as an individual, I can understand Mourinho’s actions." Even miles away, Sal’s bitter smile was apparent: "You also know that Bruckner and Mourinho have always wanted to restore the traditional status of the Bode Clan; but under the current circumstances of the Bimon Kingdom, it’s fundamentally an impossible task..."
After a pause, His Majesty the King continued heavily: "The current Bimon Kingdom is a social structure composed of Orcs, not the era when four clans worked together, and there will never be a four-seat joint council again! What does politics rely on? Bottom lines, strength, and definitely not emotions! Smey’s ideas can only be seen as a proud, self-respecting expression of their desire for past glory and refusal to sink into decline. Regrettably, this kind of self-respect won’t gain much recognition from others. Just as people must accept aging, the brilliance of a race is similar."
"In fact, many great nobles similarly hold power, yet the kingdom hasn’t cared about it! Which local lord or noble isn’t the local emperor in their domain?" Richard sneered: "I really don’t understand why Smey would choose such a critical moment to tear up relations with the kingdom over a worthless royal title! They’ve endured for a thousand years, so why can’t they bear it now? When they split off, won’t their lives be just like before? Could such actions resurrect other tribes of the Bode from the grave?"
"You’ve hit on the kingdom’s greatest flaw; over the years, I’ve been desperately reinforcing monarchical centralization for this very reason." Sal sighed heavily: "A fake democracy is worse than rational autocracy! Now each mining village’s overlord and noble is essentially the local emperor, everyone enacts their own decrees and lives their own lives, and the overt and covert struggles between different races from top to bottom in the high echelons are endless! If everyone focused these energies on national development, perhaps we wouldn’t have been driven to the wasteland by humans in the first place."
"Your Majesty, don’t waste my time with this nonsense; when exactly do we take action?" Richard detested the factional struggles of politics; he didn’t understand too many grand principles, but he clung to simple truths. For the Bode Clan to want to split, there are only two paths: either stepping over the corpses of the Beamon to establish themselves, or face obliteration."
A physically intact person would not tolerate having an arm hacked off, and it is the same for a nation.