Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 382 The Chaotic Dragon Throne Meeting (Part 1)
The morning mist was slowly dissipating from the stone paths of the capital.

Eleanor Calvin sat upright inside the carriage, her fingertips resting on the wooden frame of the window, tapping lightly with the gentle sway of the wheels.

She has been stationed in the capital for more than ten years and is very familiar with the undercurrents here.

But the upcoming Dragon Throne Conference brought her a long-lost sense of peace.

It was more like the ease with which this storm, no matter how fiercely it raged, never touched her.

Last night, the Iris Tower residence received a secret letter from the southeast coast.

That was a handwritten order from my brother. The letter was brief, roughly meaning: "Don't take the lead, don't express your opinion, and see how others act."

There wasn't a single word of support for anyone, nor a single word of advocacy for anything.

There wasn't even a single word of caution, as if the struggle in the entire capital had nothing to do with the Calvin family.

Eleanor closed the letter. As the family's long-time representative, she already knew her brother's true intentions after reading it.

The Southeast Province, far from the capital and connected to the theocratic states and overseas trade routes, no longer prioritizes disputes with the central government.

Regardless of who sits on the throne, the empire will ultimately rely on the port rights and caravans in the southeast to maintain its vital functions.

Therefore, they don't need to take sides, compete for power, or stand out.

The Calvin family of Southeast Asia has always operated this way: they never vie for temporary dominance, but rather engage with various parties, only suppressing the winner at the last moment.

They don't win many games, but they never lose.

By always standing at the forefront of trends yet never being swept away by them, they are known as opportunists and cunning old foxes among the eight major families.

But for the Calvin family, as long as the family can continue for thousands of years, the name doesn't matter; it can even be considered a compliment.

Of course, in reality, the stability of the Southeast has never been formed passively; it has always been the result of careful planning.

For example, even though they are currently at odds with the Theocracy on the surface, they have already secretly discussed several feasible escape routes with the Theocracy through the Fifth Prince.

That wasn't an alliance; it was simply a plan to leave the family with another direction and more room for maneuver.

As a result, the emperor disappeared, the capital fell into chaos, the Ministry of Military Affairs and the Ministry of Civil Service were on the verge of conflict, and nobles in various regions were eager to make a move.

But the Calvin family in the southeast was as secure as a harbor far from a tsunami, where not even a ripple could be seen.

The carriage continued toward the Imperial Palace. Eleanor leaned against the carriage wall and breathed softly, her mind becoming more and more relaxed.

Today's meeting agenda includes whether the Regent can still preside over government affairs, whether the Ministry of Military Affairs can expand its military power, and whether the order of succession should be re-discussed.

Any one of these three points would be enough to shake the capital city to the point that the castle would collapse.

Eleanor even knew that the Fourth Prince Rhine would make his move today; his actions were so obvious that almost the entire capital knew what he was planning.

The fact that all the princes would be present made her slightly wary.

That means that succession has been tacitly accepted as an open issue; the regent needs the prince to maintain order; the military wants to use the prince to build momentum; and the civil officials want to use the prince to provoke conflict.

This will be a meeting that is forced to break apart.

As the carriage stopped, Eleanor looked up. The twelve slabs of the ancient emblem cast long shadows on either side of the steps in the morning light, as if these ancient symbols were also silently witnessing the division of the day.

A servant opened the car door, and Eleanor adjusted her cloak before stepping out and into the Royal Hall.

The eternal flame still burned quietly deep within the dome, but it no longer possessed the overwhelming power it once had.

Eleanor's gaze swept around, quickly scanning the representatives from all sides.

The Western nobles stood too close together, as if they were finalizing their bargaining chips. The Southern representative kept rubbing his cuffs with his fingers, unable to hide his nervousness. The newly rich huddled together in a small circle.

Unlike three years ago when the emperor was still alive, the nobles still sat up straight, though this was only out of noble etiquette.

But they no longer feigned subservience; their voices were clearer than ever, as if the array used to control the echo had been deliberately weakened.

Whispers broke out in the hall, their sounds like grains of sand rolling on stone.

Then, the Imperial Hall suddenly fell silent for a moment, and a certain calm and composed aura unique to soldiers stepped into the hall.

Karen August stepped into his seat.

He was like a battle blade that had been drawn again, not showing off his sharpness, but able to make people back down in his cold light.

Furthermore, his left arm moved naturally, with no visible signs of old injuries.

He appeared intact, calm, and powerful, even more like the heir to the empire than ever before.

Eleanor keenly observed the reactions of the nobles around her. The shoulders of the representatives from the Ministry of Military Affairs and the Legion visibly relaxed, the expressions of the civil officials sombered, several local nobles quickly composed themselves, and the newly rich even showed a subconscious sense of awe.

The conventional wisdom of the capital city prevailed once again: as long as the Second Prince could remain so steadfast, he would still be the flag bearer of the Imperial Military Affairs Department.

But Eleanor saw it more deeply: the Second Prince was too stiff; it wasn't composure, it was as if he was forcing himself to be calm.

Shortly after the second prince took his seat, the fourth prince, Rhine August, also entered the princes' seat.

He entered silently, without any sense of oppression, yet the civil officials subconsciously rearranged their seats, gathering around him.

As soon as he sat down, he began to peruse the files with ease, as if he were in complete control of the entire meeting.

He didn't look at the second prince, Karen, which only made Karen's suppressed anger tighten even more.

The two were like a cold knife and a hard hammer; the two were bound to meet today, Eleanor thought to herself.

At the far edge of the princes' seats, the third person sat upright—Lampard Vesterion.

Its appearance was unremarkable, unlike either the banner of the Ministry of Military Affairs or the center of the civilian faction.

He was simply quiet, natural, and composed; not even the ministers gave him a second glance.

Others may not know, but Eleanor sees it clearly: this is the most dangerous of the three princes.

Lampard doesn't need to speak at the meeting, because his plans aren't even in this hall.

More importantly, there's that invisible thread connecting the Calvin family to him, something only Eleanor herself knows.

As Eleanor adjusted her cuffs, she deliberately avoided looking at him.

After all, in this place, any glance could expose the Calvin family's true plans.

Eleanor glanced over the scene, but calmly made a judgment in her heart: this was a simultaneous appearance of the three fissures.

Today, the Calvin family will remain silent. We only need to observe who moves first and who falls first.

The eternal flame swayed in the dome, and blue light fell on her cheeks, making it impossible for others to discern her thoughts.

Just after everyone had taken their seats, faint footsteps echoed from the deepest part of the Imperial Hall.

The chandelier flickered gently, casting a pale blue light onto the lines of the staircase, drawing the eye of the entire hall in one direction.

Regent Aarons entered the hall.

The air tightened slightly, as if the Imperial Hall had suddenly remembered its proper order.

Eleanor noticed his gait first.

It stands upright and steady, without trembling or superficiality.

His shoulders were steady, his breathing was even, and his expression was calm, as if he had never been shaken by illness.

If she hadn't had prior intelligence, she would have almost thought that the Regent's condition had improved recently.

It seems that the effects of the ochre leaf extract fruit are almost perfectly manifested in him.

The reaction of the nobles, unaware of the truth, was: "The Regent is in good spirits today."

"Looks like we can make it through the entire meeting."

These whispers quickly spread throughout the room, calming the previously agitated faces.

Half a step behind the Regent, the Chief Steward Lin Zejing walked quietly beside him.

His stride was precisely in sync with the Regent's, his posture upright, his expression unchanged, like a straight line, bearing the weight of the empire's etiquette and prestige on his shoulders.

These two are like two beams struggling to hold up the dilapidated house of the empire, but a slight touch will reveal cracks.

The Regent slowly sat down before the Obsidian Throne.

At this moment, the hall finally fell completely silent, and everyone was waiting for him to speak.

However, Aarons did not speak immediately. He simply sat down calmly, holding onto the side of the seat, his breathing steady to the point of being restrained.

This brief silence was more unsettling than any command.

At this moment, Lin Ze stepped forward and stood in front of the Obsidian Throne.

The echo array in the Imperial Palace Hall was still functioning, but its suppressive power was far less than when the emperor was present.

The blue light from Heng Huo poured down from the dome, making every face appear colder and clearer; no one could completely hide their expression.

Lin Ze unfurled the scroll, his movements steady and deliberate, as if maintaining a fragile order that could crumble at any moment. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried the unique authority of a long-time royal attendant, as if any command uttered from his lips automatically carried power.

"Gentlemen, the Dragon Throne Conference begins. This time is rather special, as His Highness the Regent has proposed that all the princes attend to discuss important matters of the Empire."

As soon as he finished speaking, an unnatural silence fell over the hall—not solemn, but tense.

Because everyone understood the meaning behind those words:

The fact that all the princes were present means that the issue of succession has been made public.

Eleanor could almost feel the air tremble slightly at that moment, as if some old rule of the empire was breaking.

Lin Ze continued reading the agenda, his tone calm and composed: "First, the report on border military affairs. Second, the current state of the Empire's finances. Third, the application for provincial autonomy. Fourth, discussion on the methods of exercising imperial power."

With each item read aloud, the nobles' gazes sharpened, as if each item had struck their Achilles' heel.

Border military affairs fall within the Second Prince's sphere of influence, imperial finances are the interests of local families, provincial autonomy is the last line of defense for the nobles, and the way imperial power is exercised touches upon the core of succession...

Eleanor noticed an increasingly obvious contrast: the more steady Lin Ze's voice was, the more restless the atmosphere in the hall became.

It was as if the more he tried to frame the order, the more it showed that the order was already stretched too thin and could crack at any moment.

Just as Lin Ze was about to announce, "Let's begin the discussion in order," a sound of a chair leg gently rubbing against the stone surface suddenly rang out.

The second prince, Karen, stood up.

His movements were swift and decisive, without any hesitation, and no one could detect even a trace of weakness in his physique.

The noise in the Imperial Hall seemed to be gripped by a hand, tightening instantly.

Kalen's voice cut straight through the proceedings, as if calling out names on the battlefield: "The Ministry of Military Affairs must immediately obtain emergency control."

One sentence ignited a restless atmosphere throughout the hall, like sparks flying.

Kalen gave no one time to react, continuing to press forward step by step: "Several border defenses have fallen in the past month. To still be discussing red tape at this moment is to dig the empire's grave."

His tone wasn't impassioned, but it pressed down from the front of the hall all the way to the back.

The representatives from the Ministry of Military Affairs and the Legion nodded immediately, as if someone had finally spoken up for them. Several of the newly nobles from the border even showed expressions that said, "Finally, someone is telling the truth."

Karen raised his voice so everyone could hear: "The Regent is still unwell, and military power needs to be temporarily entrusted to him. I suggest that the Ministry of Military Affairs temporarily assume command of the military until the situation reverses."

This was a blatant power grab, and the Imperial Hall erupted in chaos at that moment.

Because of a misjudgment, the military affairs department personnel thought he had recovered 70-80%, and the entire platoon straightened their backs, as if they had been reignited.

The old aristocracy's gaze darkened; any expansion of military power would first and foremost trample upon them.

The civil servants' faces tightened, their vigilance instantly heightened by the feeling that "the system has been forcibly bypassed."

Rhine raised his eyes, his movements unhurried, yet as if he were cutting through the air with his gaze.

His gaze didn't actually meet Karen's, but in that instant, the calm sharpness far outweighed any anger.

He didn't speak, but gently closed the dossier in his hand, as if he had figured something out. The movement was small, but it made the backs of the civil officials tense up.

On the other side, Lampard remained motionless, his posture calm, as if he had been waiting for this moment all along.

His eyes remained unmoved, showing not even the slightest interest.

The local nobles' nascent idea of ​​autonomy was abruptly suppressed by the forceful intervention of the Ministry of Military Affairs.

The newly rich representatives turned pale; the expansion of military power meant they would be the first to be integrated and the first to be sacrificed.

The pressure line rose too quickly, causing all sounds to fall silent in an instant, leaving only the tension of breathing.

Eleanor sat quietly, her fingers tapping lightly on the side of her knees, as if giving a silent beat to the chaotic rhythm.

He brought the dispute to the forefront.

The fourth prince, Rhine, paused lightly on the dossier with his finger—a subtle and imperceptible gesture that was instantly understood by anyone with a discerning eye.

So, just as Lin Ze was about to respond, trying to get the process back on track.

The first person to stand up from the civil service seats was the Vice Minister of Finance: "Military orders belong to the imperial authority. If they are easily delegated, the empire will cease to be an empire."

Immediately afterward, the second civilian official stood up and pointed directly to the heart of the Military Affairs Department: "The Military Affairs Department has not yet identified any traitors or federal spies. Under these circumstances, who will be in charge of military orders?"

This is a public questioning of the stability of the Ministry of Military Affairs, especially considering that just six months ago the Ministry of Military Affairs arrested nearly ten officials with ties to the Emerald Federation.

The civil servants fell silent instantly, not out of fear, but to express their unified stance.

That uniform silence was more like a gust of wind pressing down on the Ministry of Military Affairs than any shout.

The military representative couldn't help but let out a suppressed curse.

Kalein pressed his hand hard on the edge of the chair, and the table made a dull thud, as if it were about to crack.

The third to stand up was a civil official from the Censorate. Without any preamble, he went straight to the heart of the matter: "His Highness the Second Prince has only recently recovered; is he truly suited to shoulder such a heavy responsibility?"

This time, it was the second prince, not the Ministry of Military Affairs, who directly pointed out that he wanted military power.

When those words were spoken, the entire Imperial Hall seemed to be strangled from the middle.

The air suddenly tightened, and even the blue light of Heng Huo seemed to pause for a moment.

Karen's expression remained unchanged, still cold, steady, and tough, but Eleanor could tell that he was putting on a brave face.

Lin Ze warned, "Enough is enough."

But the civil officials didn't look at him.

For the first time in a century, civil officials publicly questioned the prince's abilities before the throne.

Before the sparks had even landed, Kalein stood up again, his chair legs making a soft thud on the stone surface.

He suppressed his anger, but couldn't completely control it. His tone was deep and heavy, carrying the directness and sharpness of a seasoned soldier: "I don't need you to judge whether I'm suitable."

It was a firm voice, not loud, but like a stabilizing force driven into the center of the Imperial Hall.

Kalein continued to sweep his gaze across the civil service seats, his eyes as cold as the northern winds: "The Empire is falling, and the casualties suffered by the Ministry of Military Affairs on the front lines are real. You sitting in the hall picking apart the words won't make the lost defenses grow back on their own."

He pressed down with each sentence, each one like a blow to the face of a certain faction.

The civil officials looked cold, but did not retort.

The Second Prince's aura was astonishing; it was the oppressive force of a soldier whose anger had truly been ignited.

Kalein's breathing quickened slightly, and his shoulders tensed slightly as he tried to control himself.

Anger was rising, but reason was pushing it down.

This is an extremely dangerous situation. While still powerful, it is teetering on the brink of spiraling out of control.

Karen continued, "What I want is control over the military, not to sit here and wait for another batch of people in the Empire to die."

These words practically tore away the facade of formality at the meeting.

He didn't yell, but the entire Yu Chen Hall seemed to be pulled even tighter.

The regent remained silent, head bowed, seemingly lost in thought.

Rhine kept his eyes downcast, his fingertips lightly tapping the edge of the file, unhurried and calm, yet sharp as if waiting for an opportunity.

Lampard remained transparent, but his eyes seemed to be watching the cracks continue to widen.

Just as this taut, almost snapping line was about to break, Lin Ze shouted, "Quiet—!"

The old man's voice was amplified in the echo array of the Imperial Hall, like a heavy iron rod being driven into the stone wall, so powerful that even the light of the Eternal Fire trembled.

Everyone instinctively fell silent.

The whispers among the civil servants were abruptly cut off; the anger of the military officials was suppressed; even the local nobles held their breath.

Lin Ze straightened up, his gaze steady yet carrying a rare sharpness, a warning that "if this continues, things will get out of control on the spot."

He bowed slightly, offering a half-step forward towards the throne as a gesture of apology and to indicate that he was still within the bounds of propriety, before raising his voice to speak:
"No faction may escalate the dispute before the throne. All discussions will proceed in due order."

Every word and phrase seemed to forcefully pull the Imperial Hall back from the turbulent currents into the framework of etiquette.

Lin Ze was not defending the civil officials, nor was he defending the Ministry of Military Affairs; he was defending the crumbling last order of the empire.

And everyone realized that taking another step forward would mean losing control.

Lin Ze's rebuke brought Yu Chen Hall back to the brink of control for a brief moment, but this was not the end of the chaos.

At this moment, the fourth prince, Rhine, finally gently closed the file.

This is a signal; it's his turn to make a move.

(End of this chapter)