Chapter 1106: Chapter 95: Monsoon (4)_2

“It has been twenty-nine years since the Founding Fathers signed the Alliance Charter.”

“In these twenty-nine years, we’ve built monument after monument! Erected pillar after pillar of commemoration! Named street after street, square after square in the name of freedom and the Alliance! Held countless celebratory parades!”

“We are intoxicated by the achievements of the Founding Fathers! Continuously mythologizing their accomplishments! Everything about them has been elevated to an untouchable pedestal, so much so that anyone attempting to confront the legacy of the Founding Fathers is branded as a traitor or a renegade!”

“Marshal Ned Smith defeated the Empire–that is indeed a monumental achievement. But what legacy did he leave us?” Richard Mayerhaus’s voice rose, becoming increasingly fierce: “A nation?”

“No!” Richard Mayerhaus practically roared the answer: “A feeble and disorganized alliance! A fractured and impotent alliance! An alliance exhausted by internal strife, mutual backstabbing, and reduced to nothing but a hollow shell!”

With every sentence, he slammed his fist on the lectern. His voice grew louder with each phrase, and the impact of his fist on the lectern grew heavier each time, like an iron hammer striking the audience’s hearts.

The venue plunged into silence once again.

Because Richard Mayerhaus had spoken aloud a truth that every Alliance delegate avoided discussing yet instinctively knew deep down.

After sweeping his gaze across the assembly once more, Richard Mayerhaus spoke again. This time, his voice had lost the impassioned fervor from earlier and reverted to its initial hoarse and rough tone.

“This nation, this Alliance, was established because of the defeat of the Empire,” Richard Mayerhaus said. “And it is precisely the Empire’s existence that allows you, me, and us–the Various Republics–to barely uphold the so-called Great Covenant.”

The room remained utterly silent.

Richard Mayerhaus fixed his gaze on the delegates and continued: “But while we are mired in infighting and mutual sabotage, has anyone looked up to observe the outside world? Has anyone crossed the endless Sheltering Mountain range to see what lies on the other side?”

“If anyone has looked–even for just a moment–they would realize that the Alliance stands on the precipice of destruction! Our freedom, our Republic, the legacy left behind by the Founding Fathers, teeters on the brink of doom!”

Richard Mayerhaus extended his arm, pointing toward the unseen North: “Beyond those mountains, the once-decayed and feeble Muruo Empire has entered an unprecedented golden age under the rule of the Oath Breaker.”

“In Castile, the Oath Breaker has subdued the forest beasts! On the eastern frontier, the Oath Breaker has made the Saracens too fearful to advance a single step! In the distant Northern Territory, the Oath Breaker has conquered the last Norman Realm, expanding their borders all the way to the Narrow Sea!”

“Convoys of massive ships depart from the Western Colonies, laden with untold riches, and return to the Eternal City. These riches are transformed into gunpowder and steel! Into the blood and flesh that feed the beasts raised by the Oath Breaker!”

One question after another hammered at the hearts of the Alliance delegates:

“And what about us? What are we doing?”

“As our formidable northern enemy opens new territories, what are we doing?

“As our merchants are driven out of trade ports one after another, what are we doing?”

“As the sword hanging over our heads grows sharper and deadlier, what are we doing?”

Richard Mayerhaus answered in a tone of sorrow and fury: “We are squabbling among ourselves! We are sabotaging one another! We have exhausted everything in twenty-nine years of infighting!”

“If anyone thinks I am exaggerating, then look up and see the Pretender Emperor’s child sitting above you! Look at that envoy with the false smile plastered across his face!” Richard Mayerhaus raised his hand and pointed directly at Prince William sitting in the viewing gallery:

“While the Oath Breaker sends his own son as a symbol of peace, his spies commit arson and murder in Steelburg, attempting to incite a massive rebellion in Monta! Such hypocrisy! Such ugliness! Such depravity! The Oath Breaker has never abandoned his ambition to destroy us!”

“And what about us? We are like five emaciated wild dogs, ripping each other apart for scraps of bone, bleeding profusely, completely oblivious to the true beast beyond the mountains–watching us, sharpening its teeth, drinking its fill of blood–endlessly scheming to tear us apart!”

…

The upper tier of the grand hall.

Varez, Earl of the Empire, abruptly leapt from his seat, shouting furiously toward the center of the hall: “Outrageous! Defamation!”

After shouting, the pale-faced Earl Varez wiped away the sweat from his forehead, bowing deeply toward the prince in near supplication: “Your Highness, please, allow me to escort you from the venue!”

Prince Richard waved his hand.

Earl Varez’s complexion worsened further, muttering curses repeatedly under his breath: “This won’t end here! This is open slander and defamation! Just wait! Just wait! I promise these uncivilized Mud Men will pay!”

Prince Richard spoke softly, “Earl Varez.”

Earl Varez froze: “Yes, Your Highness.”

“Sit down,” the prince said gently. “You’re making it hard for me to hear what’s being said on stage.”

…

At the lectern.

Richard Mayerhaus returned to his grimly cold and somber demeanor.

“Gentlemen, citizens representing the Alliance, look up and see!” he said. “South of the Narrow Sea, the last Norman king, Karl XI, has already lost his head. His kingdom has been annexed into the Muruo Empire’s territory.