I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 463 Harvesting the Fruits
The day after the Little Prince's death, the air in the guard barracks was like solidified oil, ready to ignite at any moment.

The news of the Little Prince's death gnawed at the hearts of every soldier like poison, and suspicion and anger toward the high-ranking officers accumulated in suppressed whispers and cold stares.

The military camp was no longer a disciplined entity, but more like a giant powder keg filled with flammable and explosive gases.

The soldiers of the Royal Guard knew very well that their high salaries and good benefits were all thanks to the royal family, and now that the only heir to the throne had died, they were filled with fear and unease.

The loyal mid-level officers planted by the Gray Shadows, like experienced arsonists, moved between the shadows and the edges of the barracks.

They no longer needed to use overly inflammatory language; they only needed to add a comment when the soldiers were whispering angrily…

"If we had been the ones protecting His Highness at that time..."

"Isn't General Roderick getting too close to the nobles?"

"I heard... the generals received quite a few benefits in the council?"

These words, like sparks, landed on the already parched firewood, fueling the soldiers' anger and unease.

As a result, they subconsciously gathered on the drill ground, stopped doing morning exercises, and refused all training, sentry duty, and the task of searching for certain people in the city.

When General Roderick himself appeared on the main parade ground with his well-equipped, stern-faced personal guard, attempting to forcefully suppress the increasingly unstable order with his authority, Mars finally encountered its most intense oil and gas.

"Get back to your posts, maintain discipline, the enemy's plot is to throw us into disarray!"

Roderick, mounted on his warhorse and clad in armor, looked imposing, yet his booming voice betrayed a hint of underlying cowardice.

His personal guards, armed with halberds, formed a cold defensive line in front of him, warily watching the growing number of soldiers with unfriendly eyes around them.

The two sides faced off, and the atmosphere was so tense it was suffocating.

Most soldiers still retained a sliver of respect for military discipline, silently surrounding the area and exerting pressure with angry and suspicious gazes.

Just then, several sardines dressed in ordinary soldier's armor but with exceptional agility began to move. They mingled in the crowd and questioned the high and mighty General Roderick in a voice that was neither too loud nor too soft, but just loud enough for those around them to hear.

"General, why are you handing the little prince over to the nobles?"

"His Highness is dead, shouldn't you give us an explanation?!"

"What do you mean by your personal guards pointing their swords at us? Are we enemies too?!"

These questions were sharp and direct, instantly tearing through the fragile restraint. Roderick's face turned ashen, and he habitually reprimanded the soldiers in a stern voice.

"How dare you! Who's speaking? Step forward!"

The Royal Guard soldiers immediately stepped forward, attempting to rush into the crowd and find the troublemakers.

Their movements were rough, shoving and pushing the ordinary soldiers who stood in their way.

This completely ignited the powder keg!

"On what grounds are you arresting people!"

"We just want an explanation!"

"Are you trying to silence me!?"

Angry roars erupted from all directions. The soldiers who were being shoved instinctively fought back, and more people pushed forward, the scene instantly spiraling out of control!
Seeing the situation spiraling out of control, the guards became even more nervous and attempted to use the butts of their weapons to strike and disperse the crowd in order to protect the general's safety.

At that moment, someone shouted.

"They're going to attack! They're going to kill someone!"

Amid the chaos, a short, piercing scream rang out... A soldier who tried to seize the captain of the royal guard's halberd was slashed on the arm by a member of the guard who instinctively retaliated, and bright red blood gushed out.

See blood!
This was like sending out a signal for a general offensive.

"They killed our own people!"

"Avenge my brothers!"

"Purge the court of corrupt officials and punish the traitors!"

All hesitation and restraint vanished after the bloodshed. Suppressed anger, grief over the loss of the prince, and the deliberate instigation by Sardine and some officers quickly transformed the rank-and-file soldiers' suspicion of their superiors into a violent act.

Led by several colonels eager for higher positions, the soldiers surged toward Roderick and his personal guard like a tidal wave.

Bricks and debris rained down like raindrops, and more people drew their swords and rushed forward with bloodshot eyes!

Although the Royal Guard was elite, they were outnumbered and surrounded.

Therefore, these well-equipped swordsmen and shieldmen, who were capable of fighting three against one, were quickly swallowed up by the frenzied crowd despite their valiant resistance.

The sounds of clashing swords, roars, and screams instantly echoed throughout the training ground!
General Roderick, under the desperate protection of his personal guards, fought his way back, his face filled with shock, anger, and disbelief.

He couldn't believe that the army he had built up would turn against him!
The riots broke out completely.

This mutiny, which originated from suspicion and anger, quickly spread from the drill ground to the entire military camp.

Loyal officers seized the opportunity to lead their soldiers to attack the armory, occupy the camp gate, and engage in fierce clashes with the troops who remained loyal to the generals.

The entire Imperial Guard camp was engulfed in a bloody civil war.

All of this reached deep into the palace. Charles stood by the window, listening to the distant, indistinct yet intense sounds of battle, a near-manic smile of satisfaction spreading across his face.

The fire was finally burning. His perfect plan was being implemented step by step. Although the fire was not yet raging enough and the bloodshed was not yet sufficient, he should still head to his destination and take control of the Royal Guard before the nobles could react.

The sounds of fighting within the Imperial Guard camp did not diminish over time; instead, they intensified.

The enraged soldiers surged forth like a flood bursting its banks, battering the already crumbling lines of defense of the generals and their personal guards.

The generals instantly went from being high-ranking commanders to becoming the target of everyone's hatred. They were horrified to discover that, apart from the limited number of personal guards they had spent a lot of money to keep, they could hardly mobilize any organized troops.

The soldiers' anger was ignited by the prince's death, but even more so by the generals' clumsy and blatant betrayal of the Imperial Guard's interests during this period. The strict military discipline of the past vanished in the face of blood feud and a sense of betrayal.

The battle spread from the drill ground to the barracks, armory, stables... every corner became a battlefield.

Although the general's personal guard was formidable in combat, it could only retreat step by step under the endless onslaught of the crowd.

General Roderick became the most prominent target of the wave of anger.

As the key decision-maker who agreed to hand the prince over to the nobles, he was seen by the soldiers as the direct cause of the tragedy.

He tried to retreat to the headquarters to hold his ground, but his retreat route had already been cut off by the mutineers. At a corner of a barracks, he and the remaining dozen or so guards were completely surrounded by the surging crowd.

"traitor!"

"Traitor!"

"Pay the little prince's life!"

Amidst roars, swords and blades fell in unison.

Roderick fought back fiercely, but his aged body and ornate sword were no match for the attacks coming from all directions.

A spear pierced through a gap in his armor from the side. He groaned, staggered, and knelt down. Then, more weapons fell... When the crowd dispersed, the once-powerful commander of the Imperial Guard lay in a pool of blood, his face unrecognizable.

His death seemed to be a signal, marking the complete collapse of the old order.

When the other generals heard the news, they were utterly terrified.

Seeing that all was lost, some, under the desperate protection of a few close confidants, abandoned all their possessions that symbolized their status and fled the military camp in a sorry state, attempting to seek refuge in the noble district.

Those who reacted more slowly or resisted more strongly followed in Roderick's footsteps and fell to the swords of the soldiers they had once commanded.

The military camp gradually came under the control of the mutinous soldiers and loyal officers who seized control of key facilities.

After the initial fervor subsided, a sense of bewilderment and unease began to creep in... What should we do next?
They killed the general, took control of the camp, and then what?
In this moment of chaos and confusion, an unexpected figure appeared on the makeshift platform in front of the training ground.

It's King Charles!

His face was pale and he looked very weak. A thick bandage, still stained with blood, was wrapped around his forehead, as if he had not yet recovered from a serious injury.

Supported by two loyal officers, he struggled to his feet, his gaze sweeping over the densely packed soldiers below, covered in blood and dust.

The entire training ground fell silent instantly, all eyes focused on the "resurrected" king, filled with shock, confusion, and a renewed sense of hope.

"Soldiers, loyal guardians of Minicia!"

Charles's voice was initially hoarse and weak, but it quickly became high-pitched, carrying a power of sorrow and anger.

"I... never left!"

He pointed to the wound on his head, his voice filled with infectious emotion.

“Despicable traitors attempted to seize this country. They plotted to assassinate me, spread rumors that I was dead, and sowed discord. They even... even turned their poisonous hands on my son, the crown prince whom you swore to protect after the accident!”

His words struck the deepest wounds in the hearts of all the soldiers, and a chorus of suppressed sobs and angry growls rose from the training ground.

"but!"

Charles suddenly raised his voice and waved his arms. Although his movements were somewhat shaky due to his "weakness," they made his actions all the more "tragic."

I survived!

I survived for this country, for you!
And you, my brave warriors, you have proven with your actions who the true backbone of the kingdom is; you have purged the corrupt officials and traitors from the army!

He launched into a passionate and impassioned accusation.

“Look at this city, look at those greedy nobles, they are the source of all this disaster!”

They are traitors, the masterminds behind the murder of my son! They stole the kingdom's wealth, misled your generals, and plunged the kingdom into the abyss!

Then, he made his most tempting promise, his voice booming like thunder across the training ground.

“I, King Charles, hereby swear in the name of the Royal Family!”
All the land and property of the nobles who participated in the rebellion will be confiscated, and these lands will be distributed to all the soldiers who stand on the side of justice at this moment and fight for the kingdom!
Every soldier will receive their due reward based on their merits in battle!

These words caused an instant uproar in the training ground!
land!

For these soldiers, most of whom came from humble backgrounds or were rich peasants, this was a symbol of wealth and status that they could never have imagined in their entire lives!

Charles pressed his advantage, pointing to the loyalist officers in the audience who had led the soldiers in the uprising.

"As for those generals who retreated in the face of battle, or even colluded with nobles, their positions will be taken over by truly brave and loyal people!"
"You are the brave warriors who led the soldiers to restore order. I will immediately appoint you as the new commanders of the Royal Guard!"

New generals will be chosen from among them, land will be distributed to officers, and the king has not abandoned them but will instead give them unprecedented rewards!
All the confusion and anxiety were instantly replaced by immense fervor.

"Long live the king!"

"Long live His Majesty Charles!"

"Execute the traitorous nobles!"

A deafening cheer resounded through the sky, igniting the soldiers' emotions and bringing their loyalty to its peak under the promise of immense benefits and honor.

Charles stood on the high platform, looking down at the army cheering wildly for him. A barely perceptible, cold smile appeared on his pale face, which was made up to look pale.

Through a series of meticulous calculations, ruthless sacrifices, and generous empty promises, he successfully transformed a coup d'état aimed at overthrowing him into a violent tool for consolidating his personal power.

He not only "came back to life," but also purged unreliable high-ranking officers in the army, re-weaving the loyalty of the Guards with fear and greed.

He, King Charles, miraculously regained control of the island's most powerful armed force amidst the cheers of thousands... This army, which had just been stained with the blood of its former master, was now completely loyal to him alone.

Charles wasted no time, hesitated without hesitation, gave the army no time to rest, and gave the nobles no chance to react.

Before the soldiers' excitement had subsided and before the new generals had fully adapted to the sudden burden on their shoulders, orders rained down like hail, turning the entire Imperial Guard camp into a war machine forcibly injected with frenzied power. After a brief moment of confusion, it began to operate at an almost frenzied pace.

Smoke rose quickly as the blacksmith's fork was relit, clanging and clattering. The soldiers ate black bread and dried meat while inspecting their weapons and armor.

The air was thick with a mixture of the smells of blood, smoke, and tense anticipation.

Night fell as Charles had hoped, providing the perfect cover.

Without a blazing torch or a lengthy mobilization, under the cover of night, the reorganized Imperial Guard efficiently marched out of their camp, like several black iron torrents, rushing along familiar streets toward the noble district and private army garrisons.

The first wave of attacks was swift and fierce, primarily targeting the private military outposts of nobles scattered throughout the island.

Many of these private soldiers were still processing the shock of the Janissary infighting and the prince's death, and some noblemen were even holding banquets to discuss how to take advantage of this "golden opportunity."

They never expected that the Imperial Guard, which should have been embroiled in infighting and collapse, would be so unified and so swift in turning their swords against them!

Shouts of battle, the clash of weapons, and the crackling of flames quickly shattered the veiled tranquility of the island's night.

The mansions of nobles were surrounded by heavy troops, the watchtowers were set on fire, and the gates were smashed open by heavy battering rams.

The guards, burning with rage for the prince's revenge and with a greedy thirst for land and rewards, surged in like a tidal wave.

"For the King!"

"For Minicia!"

"Execute the traitors!"

The fighting was exceptionally fierce. The nobles' private armies put up a tenacious resistance for their own lives and property.

Street fighting unfolded in every street and courtyard. Flames soared into the sky, illuminating the twisted and crazed faces.

War has utterly and completely descended upon the island of Taiwan.

The once bustling streets have become a battlefield of carnage, and the exquisite gardens have been reduced to ruins.

King Charles may be standing high above the palace, coldly overlooking the city that is burning and bleeding under his will.

He used a tragedy to ignite the soldiers' anger and greed, successfully shifting internal conflicts to external enemies, and swiftly and ruthlessly plunging Taiwan into the abyss of full-scale civil war.

In this day and night, the city of Treasure Island was destined to tremble amidst flames and screams. The old order was being forcibly destroyed by violence, while a new order would be built upon piles of bones.

(End of this chapter)