Chapter 51

"Mr. Tielant, I must say, letting the students from Plaza Academy go is truly disappointing, even foolish!"

Tielant looked at the distant group that was gradually disappearing, those were the detained ministers and academy officials.

Beside him, a person hidden in a black robe suddenly spoke in a low, hoarse voice.

"They are innocent."

Tielant calmly replied, not minding the other's sarcasm.

"Innocent? Mr. Tielant, are you joking?" The black-robed person laughed. "Don't you understand that these students are even more valuable than those people?"

Those people, the nobles and ministers.

Tielant, of course, understood what the black-robed person meant. The backgrounds of these students varied, and what was important was the immense power that intertwined behind them. They were the best hostages.

If negotiations with the king using the lives of the nobles and ministers failed,

But adding the lives of these students would make the outcome unpredictable.

Because the king did not have the courage to offend the latent power behind them, that power was the foundation of the kingdom's rule.

The king, who valued power above all, did not dare.

If the nobles and ministers died, other ambitious and greedy people would take their place, but if the students died, who would compensate for the loss of those behind them?

"We are here to save the kingdom, not to destroy it!"

Tielant walked to the altar, looking at the now empty square, and said, "If we fail, there will still be them. When the kingdom falls, I believe that the students here will become the last line of defense for this country, and I cannot destroy this defense. Besides, if the king dares not offend them, why should I? Is this explanation satisfactory?"

The black-robed person who followed him gave a cold laugh and said, "You are not a qualified leader."

"I have never considered myself a qualified leader; I am just an ordinary person who loves this country," Tielant replied.

"Mr. Tielant, I must remind you that if the negotiations break down, we will withdraw completely," the black-robed person said coldly.

"Understood."

As noon approached, the sun began to feel scorching, and people's moods seemed to change accordingly.

After the black-robed person left, Tielant remained on the altar, waiting for someone.

A sound of footsteps approached.

"Tielant, everything is arranged," Angelo broke the silence as he stepped forward.

"Tell me the current situation," Tielant turned and asked.

"After the students from the square were evacuated, the remaining members have joined the group detaining the nobles and ministers. They will soon reach the Comprehensive Building. The injured members have been settled by a part of the members who were withdrawn, but—"

"But what?"

Angelo took a deep breath and said, "Some members have died."

"What?" Tielant's expression turned serious. "How many members have died?"

"Six," Angelo said sorrowfully. "More importantly, many members have applied to withdraw from the society during the resettlement. The morale of the remaining members has been affected, and if this continues, it will become very bad."

Tielant shook his head and laughed bitterly. "A simple impact has already caused this. If His Majesty sends the army to suppress us, we might collapse without a fight."

"Indeed, we are not an army. The most important thing now is to calm the members' emotions," Angelo reminded him.

"We underestimated our strength," Tielant sighed. "When fear takes over the mind, thoughts and wills will collapse."

When he received the news that the members blocking the front had been completely defeated, he knew that the gap of failure had been opened.

The ideological armed forces, but fear had already overwhelmed them.

But as long as the situation was not at its last moment, he would not give up.

...

On the way to the detention, Xialan's decorative sword at his waist had been confiscated, not just him, but everyone carrying weapons was treated the same.

The confiscation process was not smooth; some chose to refuse, as if losing their weapons meant losing their safety.

Even if that weapon was merely a useless decoration.

At that moment, the Baron Bowen stood up again. He knew that useless resistance would not bring true safety.

"It seems something has happened to these people."

On the way, Xialan's companion, Cyril, maintained a good attitude, occasionally looking around at the scenery and sometimes observing the members of the Blood Flag Society escorting them.

Xialan remained silent, sorting out all the clues.

On one side were the radical students attempting to change the kingdom's politics, and on the other side were the hidden hands with ulterior motives.

The former's goal was clear and simple.

The latter's goal was vague and chaotic.

He wanted to know what they were after, but in the capital, he was just a minor figure.

There were many people stronger than him and many people wiser than him. If he wanted to make waves in the capital, he could only stir the muddy waters and fish in them.

But the development of events was completely unexpected. The muddy waters in the capital did not need his stirring, as someone had already stirred everything up for him.

Plans could not keep up with changes, and he needed to thoroughly understand the current situation in the capital.

Perhaps, he needed to seek out Old Shaker again.

"I didn't expect them to still have their wits about them," Cyril smiled, seemingly talking to himself, seeing the other's silence.

"Indeed, otherwise they wouldn't have let those students go," Xialan replied calmly.

"Pity," Cyril sighed.

"Pity what?"

"Doing the right thing at the wrong time turns the right thing into a mistake."

Sunlight filtered through the green leaves, casting dappled shadows. A gentle breeze blew, as if adorning the last moments of late spring. Early summer would soon follow, like a tide engulfing the past.

Comprehensive Building.

The white, sturdy granite formed this three-story grand building. The color of the rock had turned grayish-white from the ravages of time, and wild grass had taken root at the base of the walls, struggling and thriving for countless years.

Prosperous, withered.

As if in a cycle.

Perhaps for safety reasons, the nobles and ministers were isolated in different rooms, with several students monitoring each room. They could not escape because there were more of their people in the corridors outside.

In the room where Xialan was detained, there were five others, and among them was no Cyril, as his detention room was different.

The room was large, as a "cell" would be.

The room was clean, with tables, chairs, and books neatly arranged. Xialan's eyes casually roamed around, and he casually flipped through the books on the table, avoiding the gaze of the monitors. He understood the original purpose of this room.

*The Etiquette Behind Social Interactions*, *The Family Crest*, *The Adrian Chronicle*

...

A semi-circular, spacious lectern, tables and chairs arranged in a fan shape, and at the back of the room was a row of tall bookshelves, densely packed with various books. From the outside, it looked like a nice classroom.

He and the others were ordered to stay at the back of the bookshelves. Some, out of boredom, turned their attention to the books on the shelves, and the monitoring students did not stop this behavior.

Their cooperation by remaining quiet and obedient was already a form of cooperation, so they had no reason to stop such actions.

One person started, and the others followed, browsing through the books they liked. Rather than being angry and frustrated, they chose to improve their mood and wait for rescue. They believed that His Majesty would not let them down.

The books on the shelves were mostly related to the kingdom's politics, which suited the tastes of the nobles, but they were uninteresting to Xialan, as he was not a noble and had no interest in browsing them.

But he held a book in his hand, pretending to read it seriously to avoid standing out. His eyes occasionally glanced at the monitors.

He had waited long enough and was looking for an opportunity.

Perhaps he could leave by force, but he did not want to, as he did not want to alarm those mysterious high-ranking swordsmen.

He did not know how many high-ranking swordsmen there were, but the number was certainly beyond his ability to handle. Moreover, once exposed, his identity would be hard to hide.

"Your face is unfamiliar. May I ask which family you belong to?"

Suddenly, a noble beside him leaned over and whispered to Xialan.

"Just a minor noble from outside, perhaps it's not worth your attention," Xialan replied politely, using different faces for different people.

"From the viewing stand to here, you are one of the few who remained calm. Isn't that worth attention?" the noble smiled.

"I haven't introduced myself yet. Teig Husev Amanta, you can call me Baron Amanta."

"Norvid Silandov Yare."

To this person, Xialan did not reveal his true name. Unlike Cyril, the former was unimportant, while the latter was significant and raised suspicion.

The name he gave was the title of a noble from a remote province he had visited on a mission.

"Norvid? Silandov? A noble from Doran Province?" Amanta asked after a moment of thought.

"You know?"

Xialan's voice carried surprise. He did not expect the name he randomly gave to be recognized, and he suspected that the other might know his true identity.

"I know a bit. I am familiar with all the noble titles in the kingdom," Amanta said, seeing the other's expression.

He quickly sized up the person. He was well past middle age but well-preserved, with no gray hair in his thick brown hair, but the occasional wrinkles on his cheeks betrayed his true age.

"Is there something you need?" Xialan asked cautiously, knowing from his words that he had not seen through his identity.

"Can you tell me why you have remained calm throughout? I find this strange," Amanta asked softly.

"Perhaps it's just a show of strength, but inside, I am already terrified and uncomfortable," Xialan replied.

"I don't think so," Amanta suddenly smiled strangely and said, "From your unintentional gaze while reading, I noticed that you want to escape—"

"No, I haven't thought about it. It's just a precaution," Xialan denied.

"You don't need to worry too much. We are on the same side, and perhaps I can help you," Amanta smiled.

Xialan remained silent, his eyes calmly watching him.

His words filled him with suspicion. He did not know what he was up to.

Being secretly observed for so long was enough to make him cautious.

"You don't need to look at me like that. I just want to ask you to take me with you when you escape."

As if reading the young man's thoughts, Amanta shook his head and sighed.

"Trust me, I can help you."

"Why?" Xialan finally asked.

"Why?"

Amanta looked around and leaned close to his ear, whispering, "Young man, because if I don't escape, my life will likely end today."

Faced with his puzzled gaze, Amanta explained helplessly, "His Majesty will not accept their negotiations."

Not accepting meant the king might send troops to suppress them.

As hostages, the nobles would likely be killed as a warning. From the Blood Flag Society's stance, they despised the kingdom's greedy and corrupt nobles, who had led the kingdom into its current困境.

After failing under strong pressure, these noble hostages might become sacrifices in their madness.