It seems that the villain is targeting me.

The other party knew about the existence of those monitors, and even knew the internal secrets of the Feathered Guard that even he, the prince, was not aware of!

"Who are you? Who are you?!"

Charles couldn't help but take a step back and grip the hilt of the knife tighter.

Umuda looked at his panic-stricken appearance, a hint of disappointment on his face.

"If I were you, I wouldn't do that," he said, his disappointment clearly visible on his face. "That knife won't protect you; it will only expose your inner weakness to others."

Charles did not put down the knife, nor did he pay attention to Umudah's offensive tone.

He put on a questioning posture: "Are you Butcher's man? Did he ask you to insult me like this?!"

The name "Buchel" was like a special keyword, which instantly wiped out the playful and calm expression on Umuda's face.

"No! Of course not!"

Wumuda denied it harshly, almost howling, and said this without thinking: "How could I be his!"

After several seconds, Umuda calmed down a little.

He seemed to have lost interest in teasing the eldest prince and waved his hands vigorously as if to drive away a mosquito.

"Think about it carefully, Your Highness," Umuda said impatiently, "You have made mistakes one after another and have never satisfied the emperor. Isn't it natural for you to lose your position?"

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

Charles was furious: "I am the heir apparent designated by imperial law and my father's first son - how could my father abandon me!"

Umudat was amused by him: "Oh, my God, you are too naive."

"Men don't like sons of a specific order," Umuda said with a mocking smile. "Men only like the son who is most like themselves. The emperor chose you as the heir from the moment you were born, just to appease the ministers."

Wumuda gave him a meaningful look and said, "But your Majesty has more than one son."

The paper cutter in Charles's hand fell to the ground with a 'crack'.

But he didn't pick it up, he didn't even realize that the knife in his hand was gone.

"Impossible," the eldest prince retorted almost instinctively, "My only biological brother is only seven years old. Father would never allow such a young child to inherit the throne before me!"

But a cold voice in his heart sneered at Charles mockingly: Come on, your father looks like he can live for another whole year.

Twenty years is enough time for your brother to grow up.

He stumbled back a few steps as if he had been shot by an arrow, and bumped into the table behind him.

Charles' hands groped haphazardly for support, sweeping things off the table and onto the floor.

He was completely panicked, his voice weakened, and he kept repeating the same old thing:

“What should I do?” “What should I do?”

Umuda put his hands behind his back and walked towards him leisurely as if he was taking a walk by the river.

When this person walked, there was no sound at all.

He walked up to Prince Charles, who was trying hard to stand, and looked down at him.

"My Lord, why do you still ask?"

Umuda said doubtfully.

"Didn't I already tell you the answer?"

"A man will only like the son who is most like him. You act so submissive and humble, and you are so ridiculous, hoping to gain your father's mercy. You crawl on the ground like a pitiful worm - it's completely useless."

"You should volunteer to go to war with the Emperor and swear to him that you will wash away your shame with your blood!"

Chapter 29: Peace is Determined by the General

When the Duke of Tudor reached the top of the city wall, thousands of soldiers had already lined up outside the city.

They held weapons in their hands, their eyes were bright, and the armor plates on their shoulders collided with each other, making a metallic friction sound. The dark army formation seemed to have no end in sight.

Banur Tudor looked at the army under the city wall with deep emotion.

A flame burned in his eyes, and the heart that he thought had long been old and belonged to a famous general began to beat violently again, pumping boiling blood into his veins.

With such a powerful army of tigers and wolves, perhaps the empire is really about to usher in an unprecedented era of prosperity?

He will be one of the pioneers of this prosperous era.

One of the cornerstones of this huge empire was laid by the Tudor family.

From his high vantage point, Duke Banur could see his eldest son riding steadily on his horse, running from one end of the column to the other, boosting the morale of the soldiers.

The royal banner of the golden griffin and the banner of thorns and roses fluttered above his head like waves of the sea.

My children are good, Banur thought, and I am proud of them.

Just as Grand Duke Banur lowered his head and looked at the army, a familiar burst of laughter came from behind him.

He had heard this voice countless times when he was young. Banur couldn't help but look back, and just as he expected, he saw the excited face of Lawrence I.

It's like meeting old friends again.

His Majesty the Emperor's steps were a little stiff, but he still stubbornly refused the support of anyone around him and walked awkwardly towards the Grand Duke Tudor.

Lawrence stretched out his arms, as if he had been feeling depressed for a long time.

He shouted happily: "Banur! Brother!"

Banur was stunned for a moment, then hurriedly reached out to help him: "Your Majesty, be careful!"

Lawrence didn't feel any danger at all. He laughed and gave Banur a bear hug, then patted his shoulder heavily.

"Alas, I am old and useless," Lawrence sighed.

"How could that be?" said the Duke of Tudor. "Your Majesty is still in the prime of life."

After hearing this, the emperor just smiled slightly and didn't say much.

He followed Banur's gaze and looked down from the city wall, and also saw the Duke's eldest son, who looked very heroic.

Lawrence's eyes were filled with envy, and he nodded with satisfaction: "Now it's the world of young people."

As he spoke, the emperor turned around, and the smile on his face faded a little: "Charles - come here."

As soon as he finished speaking, the eldest prince, who had been standing in the shadow of the building, walked slowly towards him.

Prince Charles was wearing a suit of armor forged from snow steel. This kind of armor was so strong that even if a sword or knife chopped it, it would hardly leave any marks. It was also only half the weight of ordinary armor.

Of course, the cost of armor forged from pure snow steel is very high. Even if the national treasury is already quite rich, only one of the most elite knight squadrons is equipped with this kind of armor.

Lawrence finally felt a little satisfied as he looked at his son who seemed to be infected by the atmosphere of war and became silent and solemn.

Previously, Lawrence was extremely disappointed with his son because of the poor political sense shown by the eldest prince in the banquet incident.

The emperor couldn't help but feel hesitant about whether to continue to follow the system of primogeniture.

But unexpectedly, during the confinement, Charles seemed to have suddenly figured something out and wrote four or five letters in succession, eager to meet the emperor.

Lawrence recalled the scene when Charles had earnestly asked him to go to war: the eldest prince even issued a military order, and vowed boldly that he would defeat the enemy and would not stop until King Jialan was driven back to his hometown.

His Majesty the Emperor was very surprised and didn't know how this barbecued pork son suddenly became smart.

Although what he said was too presumptuous, he knew that fighting in the battlefield and killing the enemy would atone for his sins, so at least he still had some ambition.

Lawrence thought with emotion: This is what an heir to the empire looks like.

The emperor knew very well that to inherit an empire, it was absolutely not enough to be recognized by the law and have pure bloodline - at least it was not enough.

Want

To become a true monarch, one must have achieved one of the following: either protecting the country from enemies, or leading the subjects out of poverty and weakness.

Only when such an event occurs will the people respect their monarch from the bottom of their hearts and obey the orders of the person sitting in that position.

This is indeed an opportunity to reverse the reputation of the eldest prince. If he can achieve merit in this war, he may be able to gain the support of soldiers and civilians.

Even if he couldn't achieve any merit, it would be fine to let his son gain some experience on the battlefield! It's better than indulging in love affairs all day long.

His Majesty Lawrence narrowed his eyes and looked at his eldest son.

Charles's attire was very heroic, and the sword at his waist gleamed coldly, but his face was too pale, which distinguished him from ordinary soldiers.

Judging from his fighting strength alone, Charles's martial arts skills are quite good.

As part of the training of the heir, he received all the resources of the entire royal family, was taught by the best teachers, his exercise methods were tailored to his individual needs, and his diet was never lacking.

Ordinary people of the same age, even if two of them come together, would not be a match for His Royal Highness the Crown Prince.

But going to the battlefield is not just a simple competition of martial arts. It is good that his son has the ambition to fight the enemy, but the emperor does not want him to die in vain because of recklessness.

Privately, Lawrence arranged the most elite knight troops and ordered them to protect the safety of the eldest prince at all costs.

After all, he is his biological son, not an adopted one - if the eldest prince can make meritorious contributions this time, Lawrence can give him another chance.

This secret consideration and arrangement can really be regarded as well-intentioned.

His Majesty Lawrence stared at his son for a while before speaking slowly.

"Charles," he said, "you have volunteered to fight for your country. As your father, I am very pleased."

"But the battlefield is not a place for children to play house. War means death and bloodshed."

"Once you're on the battlefield, you're no longer my son, but a soldier under the general," the emperor warned his eldest son. "Military orders are as heavy as a mountain. Once you're on the battlefield, you must not act arbitrarily. You must obey the general's orders in everything!"

"Yes!" Charles clenched his left fist and slammed it hard on his breastplate, causing the armor all over his body to tremble. "Son, I understand!"

Lawrence nodded and said no more. He waved his hand and said, "Very good, you can go down. I need to speak with the general again."

Charles bowed again and turned away.

Lawrence did not see the deep resentment in his son's eyes when he turned around.

Charles did not understand the profound meaning of his father's advice before the war, and only felt that the world was unfair to him.

On the surface, he pretended to be repentant, but in his heart he swore revenge, destruction, and killing everyone who was disrespectful to him.

Hatred has taken over Charles' heart, making him unable to listen to anything else.

It seems that the emperor's good intentions are destined to go to waste.

.

------

.

The general and the emperor of the empire stood on the city wall, as if they were old friends meeting again, and looked out at the world outside the city together.

A general looks at his army, an emperor looks at his country.

"I really want to visit the borderlands again," the emperor's voice came from beside the Duke of Tudor, just as it did when he was young. "I still remember the wine of Highgarden. The best brewers in the world were born in Highgarden. The strong liquor there is very intoxicating."

"This time I came to the capital, I brought some..."

"Well," Laurence interrupted the Duke of Tudor with a bright smile, "When the general returns victorious, you must get drunk with me!"

The Duke of Tudor smiled helplessly and nodded in agreement.

The emperor was silent for a moment.

“You look rather disconsolate,” Laurence murmured. “Are you worried about the war?”

The Duke of Tudor shook his head.

Banur was still looking down at the city wall. Below, his eldest son had completed the review of the army and began to organize his confidants to deliver military orders, making the final preparations before the expedition in an orderly manner.

General Banur saw a familiar figure among those people.

That was his other child.

"Excuse me," Banul said, "serving the country is the honor and obligation of the Tudor family. Eric is my eldest son and must go with the army, but why should Gwen also..."

"What? The general doesn't know?" Lawrence laughed.

"Last time you brought your three children to the palace, she asked me for permission herself," the emperor said, shaking his head with emotion. "I was shocked then, too. They say girls resemble their fathers, but your daughter's speech really does bring back some of your stubbornness."

The Duke of Tudor gazed gloomily at the army formation below him, and after a long while he managed to squeeze out a sentence: "It is my fault for not teaching my son well..."

The emperor shook his head. "You don't have to be so modest. I really made up my mind because Prime Minister Butcher recommended your girl to me shortly afterwards."

Banur was a little stunned: "Prime Minister Butcher?"

"Yes, it was the Prime Minister of the Empire who personally recommended it to me."