The witch thought I am a Demon God
Chapter 989 - 507

Chapter 989: Chapter 507

French Emperor Louis XI said, "The Northern Undead Nations are enemies of all the nations in the Magic Black Forest. Since you led the undead into the forest, you should be responsible for this, Lord Ivita."

Louis XI said, "The undead are a bunch who can’t control themselves. Does Lord Ivita think that once they are in the Magic Black Forest, they will obediently leave, like the tides, to be summoned here and there at your bidding?"

Stuart III tried to ease the tension. "Regarding this, I believe Lord Ivita will take the initiative to resolve the situation. But should the war between our three nations be set aside now?"

"We should come together to face the onslaught of the heretics."

Ivan said, "It’s clear to everyone who started the war. Since certain individuals have instigated the war, then those individuals should be responsible for the war we are in. His Majesty Stuart is right; we should now unite to oppose the nations of the heretics instead of being fragmented and attacking each other. I suggest that certain individuals immediately withdraw their troops instead of making baseless and deceptive arguments here."

The judges and civil servants beside Louis XI all became angry, glaring at Ivita. In their eyes, Louis XI was sacrosanct, and it was rare for them to hear someone speak so rudely to their monarch.

But Ivita also bore the status of a monarch, and these Frankish people dared not dispute with a monarch, even one from an enemy nation; therefore, they could only glare at Ivita.

Frankish people have the highest degree of centralization among the nations present, which is why their people are all the more in awe of their monarch.

Suddenly, Louis XI spoke, "I’m not an idealist, nor am I a muscle-brained knight ruler, nor someone who would spend an extra penny for faith. My lords, don’t think of binding me with faith."

"In my eyes, the nation of the Frankish people is far more important than any nebulous faith."

"The Frankish people have enough history and glory to boast of themselves without needing to rely on the Church. Be it heretics or you, to me, you’re all foreign powers."

Louis XI turned to Stuart III. "You seem virtuous and steady, but I’ve heard that you’ve had several conflicts with the Pope just to divorce your spouse."

"Moreover, for you and your country, your interests lie at sea, in the vast desolate colonies. You only need to ensure the mainland doesn’t threaten you. As for the nations of the heretics... they are irrelevant to you. These heretics can only expand on land, even their navies are outsourced." "You’re like a puppet of your own country, manipulated by your country’s great nobles and ambitious individuals, even sitting here now might not truly be of your own volition."

"I’ll be blunt, old King, you’re now powerless with good intentions. It’s best you find some inland place to rest and retire."

Stuart III responded, "The future undoubtedly belongs to the oceans, not the so-called vast mainland. Even if I were to retire, I would choose a pleasant climate island."

He seemed to be kindly reminding, but Stuart III was aware that the Frankish people would never pin their hopes on the so-called sea, so his reminder wouldn’t change anything.

Louis XI then turned to Ivita, "Young man, I actually admire you, but you have obstructed my path."

"How should I put it, I advise you to give up the Alsace Kingdom in your grasp and go elsewhere. Sometimes, giving up is also an act of courage. Why cling to a hot potato? Even without Alsace and diminished power, you’d at least retain your other nations."

"What I am saying is to let you know that I am determined to win the war. What cannot be obtained on the battlefield, can be obtained at this conference."

Ivita sensed the threat in his words and furrowed his brow. "How do you intend to take it?"

Louis XI sneered. "The United Kingdom is a nation where nobles and monarchs co-rule, and sometimes, even if the monarch himself witnesses the truth, he must lie to his people. Such a system is so foolish."

He clapped his hands.

Then, a scream came from outside the cabin, followed by the scream of Henry Blossey.

Then, the soldiers’ shocked cries: "The Alsatians have murdered, Baron Blossey is dead!"

"My God, how dare they do such a thing?"

"The Alsatians have actually killed one of our United Kingdom’s men; it’s too much. We’re even mediating talks for them."

Stuart III’s face showed an enigmatic expression as he stood by a few of his great nobles.

When Ivita and the others walked out of the cabin, they saw Henry Blossey, who moments ago was vibrant, now tragically dead on the deck, his mouth and eyes wide open in disbelief of what he saw before his death.

And standing beside Henry Blossey, fully armed, was a Superior Knight brought by Ivita, a commoner Knight of Alsace, holding a Knight Sword stained with the blood of the Blossey family patriarch.

The knight’s expression was stupefied, as if he too hadn’t realized what had happened.