Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king - Chapter 179

Chapter 179: The day after Chapter 179: The day after The next day, Jasmine found herself strolling through the royal garden, the soft fragrance of flowers filling the air as she walked alongside her younger sister, Lysandra.

The sunlight filtered through the leaves as birds sang and flew through the air, and yet the young girl’s curiosity and attention were elsewhere.

“So…

how was your first night?” Lysandra asked with a mischievous grin, her eyes gleaming with the curiosity of a girl of fourteen winters.

Jasmine immediately felt her cheeks flush.

“It was fine,” she muttered, trying to deflect the question as she glanced away, her steps quickening .

Yet Lysandra wasn’t so easily deterred.

“Oh, come on!

You have to tell me!” she teased, grabbing Jasmine’s arm and shaking it lightly, her laughter ringing through the garden.  Jasmine bit her lip, trying her best to keep her composure, but the memories of last night made her heart race.

She could feel the blush deepening on her face.

Without a word, she turned her face away, hoping her sister would drop the subject.

Lysandra, however, noticed the blush and let out a giggle.

“You’re not saying anything, but that face says it all!” Jasmine only blushed harder, her thoughts betraying her as the vivid memories played back in her mind.

Many things played out that night, most of which she had liked.

Lysandra, her bright eyes gleaming with curiosity, tugged at Jasmine’s arm again.

“So, where’s Alpheo?

I thought I’d see him with you.” Jasmine shrugged, her voice light but distracted.

“He’s probably working,” she said, glancing away toward the distant courtyard.

“There’s always something to do now.” Lysandra raised an eyebrow.

“He’s already buried in work the day after the wedding?” she teased, shaking her head.

“You’d think he’d still be celebrating with you.” Jasmine chuckled softly but didn’t say more, keeping her thoughts on their night to herself.

——— Egil clapped Alpheo on the back with a wide grin, his booming laughter filling the room.

“So, the mighty Alpheo’s finally had his first time!” he shouted, raising his own cup high.

“Welcome to manhood, my friend!A cheer to his now wet cock” The rest of the group, gathered around the short table, erupted into laughter, their cheers echoing through the hall.

One by one, they reached for a pitcher of cider, pouring generously into Alpheo’s cup until it overflowed.

“Drink up!” Egil roared, his face flushed from excitement and drink.

“Here’s to Alpheo!

May his nights be as vigorous as his battles!” The others joined in, laughing and shouting as they toasted Alpheo, who smiled wryly, lifting his cup in return and caressing his sore waist.

Clio leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“So, how was it?” he asked, trying to suppress a chuckle.

“Surprisingly good, especially when you don’t have to open your purse afterward…” Alpheo shot back.

Clio just laughed heartily, giving Alpheo a playful slap on the back that nearly knocked him off balance.

Jarza, not missing a beat, chimed in with a smirk, “Well, it’s official now!

You’re a prince, a member of royalty.

Should we start calling you ‘Your Grace’?”  Alpheo shook his head, chuckling at the absurdity of it all.

“In private, you can still call me what you always have,” he replied, a warm smile spreading across his face.

“I’d prefer to keep it a bit more… personal.”  Alpheo’s expression shifted, a weight settling over the lightheartedness that had previously filled the room.

“Alright, let’s set aside the jokes for a moment,” he said, his tone firm and steady, the laughter in his voice giving way to a somber reality.

“We need to discuss about what happened last night” The moment those words left his lips, the atmosphere in the room changed drastically.

The playful banter evaporated, and smiles faded into serious expressions.

Although the insult from Prince Lachlan hadn’t been aimed directly at them, the undertone of his gesture left an undeniable sting that resonated with all present.

They were friends, comrades who had fought alongside Alpheo, and they couldn’t help but feel the weight of that slight.

Alpheo’s voice took on a grave tone as he addressed the room.

“I think it’s time we take a hard look at our situation before we make any decisions.” He leaned forward, his expression tense.

“In the past month, we’ve fought battle after battle, carved out our victories, and managed to keep going, but if anyone here believes our current position is secure…

you’re wrong and he is a fool .” His words hung in the air, and a ripple of uncertainty passed through his companions.

They exchanged glances, puzzled.

To them, things seemed to be going well.

His coffers were full, they were preparing to expand the army from 700 to 950 men, and everything seemed to be falling into place.

Alpheo continued, his voice more serious.

“Yes, we’ve strengthened our forces, but prestige-the thing that makes the nobles follow you-is at an all-time low.

Remember the campaign against Prince Arkawatt of Oizen?

He could barely raise 1,500 men, and that was without our forces included.

Now Arkawatt is dead, and the new ruler is a woman whose husband was a low-born mercenary.

You know as well as I do that the nobles won’t take her seriously and as a consequence, me seriously .

If we called them to arms, many would likely laugh at us, or send only token forces.” His friends looked around, their expressions darkening.

The reality of their situation was starting to sink in.

“Now,” Alpheo said, “that brings us to this gift from Prince Lachlan of Herculia.

A mockery-meant to humiliate us in front of everyone.

So, we have two choices.” He paused, letting the weight of the moment settle in.

“The first,” he continued, “is to declare war.

A bold move, no doubt, but a dangerous one.

If we go that route, it will expose how fragile our hold on the nobles really is.

Declaring war would put us on display for all the other princes, showing them that our power might not be as strong as it seems.

And once they see those cracks, they’ll exploit them like hyenas .” The room was heavy with silence, and Alpheo’s voice dropped lower, more deliberate.

“On the other hand, we could choose to ignore the insult.

Pretend it didn’t happen.

But that’s just as dangerous, if not worse.

It would send a message to every noble that we’re weak, that we can be mocked without consequence.

They’d lose what little respect they have for us, and Lachlan’s move would succeed in making us a laughingstock.

So, whatever we decide, we must understand that neither path is without risk or consequence.” The room fell into a contemplative silence as Alpheo’s words flew in the air.

Each of his companions exchanged glances, their expressions tense.

Asag,was to first to break the silence with a thoughtful suggestion.

“Perhaps,” he began, his tone measured, “the best response would be to send an insult back.

Answer fire with fire.” His eyes flickered with caution as he continued.

The room fell into a tense quiet, but not for long, as apparently, his opinion fell on hostile ears.

Jarza, leaned forward, slamming his fist against the table.

“War is the only answer!” His voice boomed with conviction.

“We can’t let this slight go unpunished.

We’re no longer just mercenaries-insults are beneath us now.

I say we answer in blood’ , that is what we know and what we are best at…” Egil, his eyes gleaming with excitement, nodded fervently.

“Exactly.

If we strike back hard and fast, we’ll prove to everyone that our achievements weren’t just luck.

They’ll know we can’t be trifled with.” The room buzzed with the clash of ideas, tension thickening in the air.

Asag remained calm, but the fire in Jarza and Egil’s eyes only seemed to fuel their resolve for war.

Clio, sensing the growing divide, turned to Alpheo, her gaze steady yet concerned.

“And what do you believe is the right option, Alpheo?” Her voice cut through the noise, bringing everyone’s attention back to him.

Alpheo took a deep breath, the weight of their expectations heavy on his shoulders.

He knew they were all looking to him for leadership in this moment.

“I appreciate the thought behind Asag’s plan,” he began, choosing his words carefully.

“Sending an insult back might delay conflict, but ultimately, it won’t erase what’s been done, we were the first to be laughed at , and no matter the response nothing will change that .

Lachlan’s gift was a challenge-he’s testing us.

Ignoring it or responding with words will only make us look weaker.” The room stilled as he continued, his voice firm but calm.

“We cannot allow this insult to go unanswered.

If we do, the nobles will continue to see us as vulnerable.

War may be dangerous, but it’s our chance to reshape that narrative.

If we win, we’ll not only avenge the insult but force the nobles to take us seriously.” There was a collective intake of breath as Alpheo’s words sunk in.

He allowed a small, nervous smile to break through.

“We’ve been in worse situations before, haven’t we?” Asag, ever the voice of reason, spoke up again.

” Still , if we don’t handle this with care, we risk exposing ourselves.

As you said, we do not know if the other nobles will support us for a war we are calling, which would mean facing an entire princedom alone…” Laedio, a seasoned soldier, shook his head.

“We’re proficient in war, Asag.

It’s what we do best.

Diplomacy and insults might delay the inevitable, but they won’t win us respect.

War will.” His voice was gruff but resolute.

“We go with what we know.

And right now, the best way to make a statement is with steel, not words.”  “Lachlan has forced our hand”, Alpheo began, ” We have bled and fought for everything we’ve earned, and I will not see us reduced to the laughingstock of some distant prince.

” His eyes sharpened as they fixed on the center of the table.

“We will respond with war, this is our chance to prove that we are more than mercenaries, more than opportunists.

We will remind the world who we are and what we did to reach this place..” The room was silent for a moment, the weight of his words lingering.

Then, one by one, his companions nodded, as once again they decided to let war sort out their fates.