Chapter 60: Purge the Traitor!

“Hiss!”

A sharp, forcibly suppressed intake of breath suddenly pierced the solemn atmosphere of the conference hall.

Astreia shot up from her seat like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, her hips barely touching the chair before she bounced up!

The dignified mask on her beautiful face shattered in an instant, a surge of blood rushing to her cheeks.

The area that had been ‘harshly punished’ by Wendy’s little whip that morning still throbbed with a shameful, burning pain, even through layers of heavy armor.

The sensation made it impossible to stand or sit comfortably.

Every muscle in her body screamed discomfort.

“Your Highness!”

“Are you all right?!”

General Sera and the other officers sprang to their feet in unison, hands on their weapons, faces tense, as if expecting an enemy attack or something else.

Astreia froze in place, her hands awkwardly suspended in midair, wishing she could just die.

She couldn’t possibly tell all her subordinates that her butt hurt, could she?

In that moment of suffocating embarrassment—

A figure strolled leisurely past her side.

Wendy still wore his signature harmless smile.

His hands gently settled on Astreia’s shoulder armor, the motion appearing comforting, but in reality, a firm and irresistible force pressed her slowly downward.

Caught off guard, Astreia was firmly pushed back into her seat.

That strange, tingling pain shot through her entire body!

“Mm…!”

Her eyes widened, and she clamped both hands over her mouth with all her strength, barely suppressing a more shameful cry from escaping her throat.

But that was only the beginning.

Next, under the stunned gazes of everyone in the hall—

Wendy turned leisurely.

And sat down.

Without the slightest hesitation, he settled right into Astreia’s lap, whose curves were almost sinfully inviting.

He even adjusted his position, letting most of his body’s weight rest comfortably on the princess’s warm and plush ‘pillow,’ as if it were a throne crafted just for him.

After all this, Wendy finally looked around the room, perfectly at ease, and explained:

“There’s no need to worry.”

“Her Highness simply hasn’t sat on such a hard chair in a long time—her body isn’t used to it.”

“Now, I’m helping her adjust. It’ll be fine soon.”

The hall descended into a deathly, almost eerie silence.

General Sera’s weathered single eye blinked slowly.

Her gaze shifted from Wendy, looking as nonchalant as if he were lounging in his own garden, to the princess now being used as a ‘personal cushion.’

The ‘Northern Lioness’ was frozen solid, cheeks burning, emerald eyes filled with seven parts shame, two parts helplessness, and one part… humiliating pleasure.

Sera’s mouth twitched uncontrollably.

She understood.

She understood everything.

The one-eyed general waved her hand silently, signaling everyone to sit down and stop standing around like idiots.

The other commanders, equally sharp, exchanged frantic glances, suppressing laughter that threatened to burst their lungs, and quickly sat down.

It seemed the two Highnesses were playing another ‘game’ none of them could comprehend…

“Enough. Let’s get to business.”

Wendy leaned lazily into Astreia’s lap, the smile on his face fading.

His eyes swept the hall, sharp and piercing—completely at odds with his relaxed posture.

As he spoke, the air shifted from ambiguous gossip to tense seriousness.

“General Sera, has there been any response from the Royal Capital regarding the report we sent?”

At the mention of business, Sera’s expression hardened.

“None,” she replied, shaking her head.

“It’s been nearly six days. Even if the Messenger rode a snail, they should’ve reached the Royal Capital by now. But there’s been nothing—not a word.”

“That’s abnormal.”

Wendy’s fingertips tapped rhythmically on the princess’s thigh armor beneath him, the crisp ‘ta-ta’ echoing.

“Margo died here. The Veid Family wouldn’t just ignore it.”

“Their silence only proves they’re scheming something bigger, preparing a fatal blow.”

“Then what should we do?”

Centurion Lina couldn’t help but ask, her sleep-deprived eyes red with anxiety.

“Just wait around? Let the blade reach our throats?”

“Of course not.”

Wendy’s smile returned, but now it was tinged with chilling coldness.

“Passive defense only leaves you at the mercy of others.”

“We must… take the initiative.”

“Take the initiative?”

Sera’s brow furrowed.

“You mean… lead the army and march straight on the Royal Capital?”

The idea was so bold that everyone gasped.

This wasn’t just killing the Military Inspector.

This was outright Rebellion!

Yet, in the next moment, images surfaced unbidden in their minds—the hellish night under the blood moon, when the princess, god-like and demonic, erased an army of over a hundred thousand Orcs with a flick of her finger.

Maybe… it wasn’t impossible?

For a moment, the air in the hall grew heavy with ambition.

“No, that’s not necessary.”

Wendy shook his head, correcting her.

“General Sera, have you forgotten our greatest trump card?”

He spoke each word clearly, his voice reaching every ear.

“Merit.”

“Gunpowder and cement—powerful enough to shift the entire continent’s balance of war.”

“The Veid Family wants to pin ‘murder of the Military Inspector’ and ‘intent to rebel’ on us. But we won’t play into their hands.”

“We will not rebel.”

Wendy’s voice rose, echoing through the hall, each word striking like a hammer.

“We will—Clear the Court!”

“With the overwhelming merit of crushing the Orc Army, and Secretary Edwin Veid’s Confession accusing the Veid Family of treason, we are the loyal subjects—the blades that purge traitors for Her Majesty the Queen!”

“We march to the Royal Capital not as rebels, but to seek justice—to force the Veid Family to show their true face!”

“When our forces reach the gates, we hold the moral high ground. Will the Veid Family surrender their power, or will they risk being condemned by the world and wage war on ‘meritorious subjects’?”

“They’re the ones who should be worried!”

Wendy’s words struck like thunder, shattering the last doubts in everyone’s hearts.

That’s right! We’re the victims! We have the justification!

Fire blazed in the eyes of every commander.

This was no simple military action—it was a political gamble.

If they succeeded, those who followed would no longer be border guards in some remote province, but the founding nobles of a new era!

As her subordinates burned with excitement, Astreia’s eyes flickered with complex hesitation.

The Royal Capital…

Her sister was there—the Queen, isolated and powerless amidst the predatory nobles.

As an elder sister, she had already failed to protect her.

And now, she was about to march with an army, using a method akin to usurpation, to ‘Clear the Court’…

Was this truly right?

She instinctively grabbed Wendy’s hand, the cold metal of her gauntlet betraying her inner anxiety.

Wendy felt her wavering.

He turned his hand, holding hers gently.

The Prince said nothing, simply gazing quietly at the princess with eyes that seemed to see through all things.

There was no urging, no pressure in that look.

Only pure trust and reassurance.

In that moment, Astreia’s turmoil miraculously calmed.

Yes.

Everything Wendy did was for her, for their future.

She should trust him.

She must trust him.

Astreia straightened, hesitation and weakness fading from her emerald eyes, replaced by the resolve of a lion.

“Transmit my order!”

Astreia Valoran’s voice resounded through the hall.

“Full army preparation. Three days from now…”

“March to the Royal Capital!”

“Yes!”