Knights and Magic Wand
Chapter 282 - 282 142 Orland Royal Family Thanks for the Monthly Passes and Alliance Leader

282: Chapter 142: Orland Royal Family (Thanks for the Monthly Passes and Alliance Leader) 282: Chapter 142: Orland Royal Family (Thanks for the Monthly Passes and Alliance Leader) The towering and majestic walls of the Royal Court enclosed the resplendent Royal Palace perched on the high grounds, isolating the endless prosperity and noise of the Capital region with its hundreds of thousands of inhabitants.

Behind the high walls, within the Royal Palace, solemn and gorgeous palaces and corridors stretched between the vast complexes of buildings; towers, bridges, and courtyards were adorned with one beautiful garden after another.

Beneath this magnificent array of palatial walls and buildings, the Orland Royal Guard, resplendent in plate armor and holding Long Spears, stood solemnly, monitoring and protecting every corner of the palace.

At this moment, at the end of the Royal Court’s main hall corridor, the thick doors isolated the intense debate within the conference hall.

Lydwen III, draped in a black cloak embroidered with golden dragon patterns, sat silently at the head, his blue eyes scrutinizing the impassioned words of the ministers and representatives of the Great Nobles and Noble Lords seated below.

The loyal yet stubborn Minister of Finance puffed out his beard and glared, unwavering in his words against the representatives of Duke Loman of the Loman Territory in the East.

The noble representative from Great Vestra in the West, on the other hand, maintained a smile, observing the Loman representative’s exhausted responses to the Minister of Finance’s questioning as if enjoying a spectacle.

The representative from Loman, tongue-tied and out of arguments, reluctantly turned his head and bowed to the King, “Your Majesty, the Loman Territory has always paid its taxes in full.

However, the disturbances from the Barbarians beyond the eastern borders have been continuous, disrupting trade, and since the end of last year, the situation has worsened.

The increasing tension in the East is an indisputable fact, and Prince Eric has also witnessed it himself on his recent journey, which can prove our words are true.

The Duke has exhausted all efforts to maintain stability in the East; we indeed cannot come up with the additional auxiliary money and War Tax levied last year and this year.

We kindly request Your Majesty to allow a delay in payment…”

As the representative from Loman presented his petition, the conference hall fell silent for a moment.

However, Lydwen III did not immediately respond to this seemingly reasonable request, those emotionless eyes staring at the petitioner for a long time.

The bowing Loman representative, although he could not look directly at the King upon his throne, still felt as if he was being watched by a terrifying giant dragon, a slight sweat breaking out on his back, and a hint of uncertainty creeping into his heart.

As the “Temorin and Pomya” of Loman, a confidant of the Duke, he was naturally aware of how much truth there was in these half-truths and excuses.

“…Very well, if Lord Ostdor is in difficulty, I shall be understanding.

There’s no need to pay the taxes…” Lydwen spoke with a deep voice.

Hearing that the impressively authoritative king had finally spoken, the Loman representative felt a burden lifted after the prolonged silence in the hall.

Lydwen, unflinchingly leaning on the throne, commanded, “Let the Horror Wolves of Loman Territory replace the taxes.

Within this year, the Lords of the East Territory must gather two thousand seat wolves to deliver to the Royal Court.

This is a royal decree, and there shall be no further excuses.”

“Two thousand seat wolves?” The Loman representative was caught off guard by the King’s ensuing words.

His eyes widened as he raised his head, “But…

Your Majesty, the harassment by the Barbarians on the eastern side has not been resolved.

To conscript so many seat wolves may leave the military resources of the Loman Territory borders empty…”

“When did I say I was going to conscript them?” King Lydwen looked at him, a smile not quite reaching his eyes.

“Seeing that you all are troubled by the Barbarian Tribe Alliance on the Hectorwa Plain, how could I, as your King, stand by and do nothing?

I shall send Prince Eric and his Flying Dragon to assist with the border defense in the East Territory.

As for the two thousand seat wolves, once assembled, they can be directly handed over to him on the spot.

The King’s Domain will dispatch Riders and logistics teams to form a Horror Wolf Cavalry, aiding you in confronting the invading Barbarians.”

“This…” The Duke’s representative opened his mouth but, meeting the authoritative gaze of the monarch on the throne, he dared not look directly and quickly lowered his head, “I will follow Your will, Your Majesty…

I shall convey the royal decree to the Duke.”

…Outside the palace halls.

Over the bright skies above the Royal City of Oran,

a massive dark-red beast streaked across the blue sky, soaring amongst the clouds.

The howling wind whistled past his ears, Prince Eric, his head adorned with a dragon-shaped helm, shouted joyfully, maneuvering his massive dragon beast as it tumbled and spiraled in flight.

The dragon’s distant roars reached from the skies, prompting the residents below in the Capital to look up.

Yet the citizens long residing in the Royal City had grown accustomed to the sight of the flying dragons bred by the Drakemar Royal Family in the Klonia Territory.

After a while, having expended his vigorous energy in the usual dragon-riding training, Eric urged the Flying Dragon to lower its altitude, casting increasingly larger shadows with its wings as it slowed down.

The duo returned to the Royal Dragon Nest behind the palace, the Flying Dragon hovering as the gale created by its beating wings forced the attendants and Dragon Tamers below to dodge to the sides.

The beast’s fearful clawed hind legs thundered down, making the floor of the Dragon Nest tremble.

The Flying Dragon cocked its thick neck and lowered its intimidatingly horned head, emitting sulfur-scented snorts with flames, then folded its wings, resting its body and the claws at the tips of its wings to the ground.

Eric unfastened the buckles at his waist, bracing against the high saddle, and leaped gracefully from the dragon’s back, clad in sharply contoured dragon-engraved plate armor, with a clank he deftly landed.

Removing his wing-decorated helmet, he gave the curved horn of his companion a pat and bid farewell, “See you tomorrow, ‘Beauty’.”

The Flying Dragon contently shook its head in response.

The approaching Dragon Tamer blew the whistle and carefully led the massive creature with rumbling paws back into the depths of the Dragon Nest to rest and feed.

The entourage of Attendants waited until the great Flying Dragon had moved away before rushing to the side of the Prince, proceeding to help the esteemed Prince of Orland remove his armor and change his clothes.