Chapter 390: Roundtable Discussion (Part 3)

“The aggro-grabbing effect is working, isn’t it!”

Looks like Veronica was right—Count Perry definitely knows his son got killed.

“Hmph, so what?”

Black Mimi completely ignored Count Perry’s fury, staying on standby without moving an inch.

The great knights all saw Count Perry’s undisguised rage, Count Salam’s smile-hiding blade, and Marquis Edward’s bitter face.

Each of the three lords had a completely different expression, all quite telling.

In fact, Marquis Edward had brought along a strange bodyguard—no one knew who the yellow-haired man was. Judging by his attire, he didn’t look like a knight; he seemed more like a shabby adventurer from the south.

“Forget it, this nobody isn’t important. Let him stay out of the way.”

The three lords took their seats, sitting side by side. Marquis Edward sat in the middle, with the two counts on either side.

Although counts and marquises weren’t much different in power—neither being superior or inferior, both ranks below duke—the title of duke required royal bloodline.

But marquises were far fewer in number than counts, so they were naturally a bit more noble, thus taking the center seat.

At that moment, Count Salam’s smile faded somewhat.

‘These nobles’ expressions are truly entertaining.’ Samimi took everything in from her seat in the front row. She could observe carefully, since no one at the round table would be watching her.

They’d only stare at Black Mimi, all attention focused on her.

But Black Mimi just lowered her head, spacing out, closing her eyes to rest. Even if the sky fell, she’d treat it as a blanket. Her profound aura suppressed the entire venue.

Still, the one responsible for chairing the meeting was Count Salam.

Marquis Edward sat in the middle, mainly as a decoration to calm the atmosphere.

“Hasn’t someone arrived yet?”

Lord Daniel, the God Emperor Knight Captain, suddenly laughed.

“Ah, right—I forgot to invite our famous Knight King, Lord Shia. This matter is closely related to him; let’s hear his opinion.”

Count Salam smiled.

Only then did Knight King Shia slowly walk out from the crowd.

All eyes turned to him, but the gazes were filled only with contempt and malice—not a shred of respect.

In the past, the Knight King always appeared last, drawing thunderous applause and deafening cheers, earning the respect of all knights.

But now, there was no respect left—only hatred.

A Salam female knight brought a stool and set it beside Knight King Shia for him to sit, instantly igniting a burst of mocking laughter across the audience.

It was the cruelest humiliation in history.

But Knight King Shia could only sit down, awkwardly alone on the side.

Anyone else would have felt like sitting on needles, unable to bear the disgrace.

Yet this old man sat upright, his weathered eyes still firm. Facing the laughter of thousands, his expression didn’t waver, nor did his heart race.

The laughter gradually died down, and the Round Table Meeting finally got down to business.

“We plan to organize a West Sea Allied Army to jointly suppress the rebel army. All who have ambition may join and achieve merit.”

Count Salam said.

With that simple sentence, thousands of knights immediately cheered with joy.

To them, nothing was more attractive than those four words: “achieve merit and establish fame.”

The great knights also applauded, smiling, showing face.

Only Knight King Shia sat there without clapping.

Actually, there were others secretly not clapping, but the Knight King was the most conspicuous. It was clear he didn’t agree with the lords’ decision.

“Lord Shia, do you have any objections?”

Count Salam raised a hand to inquire.

“Count Salam, hold on. I have an objection—I have something to say first.”

Count Perry suddenly lashed out, slamming the table and standing up. He pointed at Black Mimi and shouted viciously.

“Count Perry, if you have urgent business, go ahead.”

Count Salam was very polite.

“Cow Priest, my son was killed by a Holy Knight. Was that your doing?”

Count Perry demanded loudly at Black Mimi.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. What point would the Holy Knights have in killing a count’s son?”

Black Mimi calmly denied it, her voice like a rippleless lake, convincing and utterly flawless.

Of course, Samimi was secretly feeding her lines via Magic Telepathy, but that pure, pristine tone belonged exclusively to Black Mimi.

Samimi’s own voice, when heard, always carried a certain annoyingly smug quality. That yellow hair made whatever she said sound like she was being sarcastic.

But Black Mimi was different—her speech was clean. Anyone hearing her would think she was an upright, righteous character.

After all, who would guess that her true form was actually a dog?

“You…”

Count Perry was completely frozen, and he had no evidence to present.

“Count Perry, please calm down, take a rest. Bring wine.”

Count Salam quickly stepped in as a mediator.

A group of Salam maids came up with jugs of wine, filling the cups of the great knights and lords.

“Lord Shia, let’s keep it brief. We all know the Rebel War Commander is your granddaughter, but we also know you definitely weren’t involved in the rebellion. We trust your integrity.”

Count Salam stood up, starting with nice words, playing the good cop.

“…”

Knight King Shia looked at him without speaking.

“However, we still hope you can guarantee a clean break with the Rebel War Commander, to prove your innocence.”

Count Salam said.

“How do you want me to prove it?”

Knight King Shia finally spoke, uttering his first words—his voice hoarse and aged.

“Drink this cup of Severance Wine. From now on, you and the Rebel War Commander are severed. Sir Knight King and the Giant Whale Knights can join our West Sea Allied Army to fight the rebels, atoning for your sins with merit.”

Count Salam personally approached to pour the wine for Knight King Shia and handed him the glass.

“Sorry, I refuse.”

Knight King Shia stared at the glass for a few seconds before answering firmly and decisively.

Then, he turned and left without a moment’s hesitation.

Yet hearing his refusal, Count Salam’s smile didn’t fade.

This played right into his scheme—he was most afraid of the Knight King backing down.

In a blink, a group of Salam knights blocked the Knight King’s path.

Other knights from various orders also joined together, forming an impenetrable human wall.

Knight King Shia saw no retreat and had to stop.

“Lord Shia, if you’re unwilling to sever ties with the Rebel War Commander, then we’ll have to ask you to suffer a little inconvenience for now. Please remain here. After we finish suppressing the rebels, we’ll decide further.”

Count Salam slowly stepped back, into his allies’ protection, but still held up the wine glass and said with a smile.

This was essentially his trump card.

His goal was to eliminate Knight King Shia. He didn’t say “kill you” outright, but house arrest was the same as killing him.

Without the Knight King, the Knight Academy and the Giant Whale Knights would be leaderless, scattered like sand, easy prey.

Especially the Knight Academy, which mastered mass production of high-level knights—from now on, it would become his spoil.

“Everyone here is my man. What can a lone Knight King do against me?”

“I’ve had enough of you! Just some roadside baron!”

Count Salam snickered to himself, of course not saying those thoughts aloud.

“Hee hee.”

“Clang!”

Suddenly, a cold flash of light streaked past, and Count Salam felt a sharp pain in his palm.

He focused and saw that his hand and the wine glass had been crushed by a knight’s gauntlet.

“AAAAAAHHHHH—!”

Count Salam let out a pig-like scream, his hand and glass shards twisted together, blood spurting everywhere.

“What do you think you’re doing!?”

“Protect the Count!”

“Pharmacist, heal him!”

So fast!

So fast that even the many knights present couldn’t react!

Even the Dwarf Fighting God stirred, preparing to strike.

But the Beastman Nun slid in one smooth move to block the Dwarf Fighting God, watching him with an innocent, harmless expression.

Fortunately, everyone quickly pulled Count Salam away.

All eyes turned to the attacker.

It was a mysterious, oddly dressed White Robed Priest.

She wore a priest’s robe but also a knight’s gauntlet, a white hood and veil, and a gleaming Golden Knight Sword at her waist.

Was this what they called a Battle Priest?

“Get ready to move.”

Samimi replied quietly.

“Hey, hey, you’re not seriously going through with this, are you? There are at least three thousand elite knights here, and at least another ten thousand arranged around the perimeter.”

Veronica sat cross-legged in her seat, asking Samimi quietly.

“Everyone’s gone mad.”

Veronica scratched her head and let out a long sigh. Teaming up with these lunatics was the biggest mistake of her life.

Ignoring all the glaring great knight captains, she turned to face Knight King Shia. No one knew what she was planning.

“Sister Fang.”

The Battle Priest uttered two words, instantly plunging the entire Round Table Meeting into dead silence.

“I knew you were still alive.”

Knight King Shia’s face, which had been taut the entire time, finally relaxed.

“I was framed. Father and Mother were murdered. I’ve already found the killer—it was the Ghost Assassins arranged by Count Perry. The Rebel War Commander was also their puppet to smear my name. But I don’t know who’s pulling the strings behind the scenes.”

The Battle Priest took off her hood and veil, briefly stating everything.

Her flowing silver hair, her resolute—almost sinister—gaze, her towering figure.

Wasn’t this the legendary Rebel War Commander Fabiana herself?

“You’ve worked hard.”

Knight King Shia’s relaxed face immediately turned serious again.

Everything became clear.

His granddaughter was not the root of all evil.

At the same time, he could finally steel his heart.

The Knight King was no longer lost.

“Nonsense! So it really was you who killed my son! Everyone, attack! Tear the traitor to pieces!”

Count Perry finally found his chance, shrieking at the top of his lungs.

“Do you want to remain nameless nobodies for life? Now’s the time to make your name!”

Under such temptation, some were bound to lose their minds.

Unable to tell right from wrong, Knight Spirit became trash on the roadside—nothing was more important than power and reputation.

“You patricidal, matricidal traitor! Die!”

A front-row knight captain leaped forward, swiftly drawing his sword, performing a sword dance that crossed the un-crossable gap in one step.

Indeed, for an ordinary knight, this might be the only chance to showcase their skill.

The only opportunity to make a name for themselves.

But the Rebel War Commander Fabiana didn’t even glance at him. She struck back with a single sword slash.

The crowd only saw a flash of gold light, and the knight captain’s arm and sword flew into the air together, leaving a beautiful arc of blood mist.

And she wasn’t done.

Fabiana followed up with another spin and a slash, directly cutting his throat—merciless.

Just two strikes, and the thousands of knights present instantly calmed down considerably.

They all drew their swords, exchanging glances, looking around in confusion—no one dared to step forward first again.

Samimi and Veronica got up from their seats, went over to join Fabiana, guarding her left and right.

“Bishop? I thought you were here, and you even dyed your hair. My goodness.”

Knight King Shia exclaimed, finally smiling.

“That’s my sister. And don’t call me Bishop—call me Demon-Hunting Nun.”

Samimi snorted.

“Hmph, old man, I’ve received a lot of help from you too. I’m glad to see you here. We’ll catch up after we get out of here. And don’t call me Bishop.”

Samimi casually brushed it off.

Count Perry and Count Salam started signaling their men.

The stalemate didn’t last long.

“Frostblade Knights Order! Forward! Kill the Rebel War Commander!”

“Windwhisper Knights Order! Attack together!”

“Stellar Knights Order! All troops advance!”

“Flame Soul Knights Order! Assist in battle!”

Soon, several great knight captains issued orders to fight to the death.

Hundreds of elite knights quickly formed ranks and charged in.

And seeing the famous knight orders acting, the smaller and medium-sized orders also followed, tagging along behind the big shots to get scraps.

This was originally a net set by the great nobles—there was never any justice to begin with.

This battle was inevitable.

“ [Hundred Ghosts Night Ride] .”

Fabiana’s eyes turned cold, her stomach full of pent-up rage. She raised her golden sword and charged into the enemy formation, heading straight for Count Perry.

At the same time, she activated her rebellious divine skill.

This was the capital the revenge squad had to dare fight all the knights of the West Sea.

“BI! SHI! YAO! SHI! SHI! YAO! SHI! YAO!”

The sky turned cold, black clouds pressed down.

The once beautiful Dream Village suddenly fell into darkness.

In an instant, countless skeleton knights were summoned around the Round Table, forming an iron barrel defense line, locked in a bloody melee with the West Sea knights.

What was originally thought to be a numerically overwhelming human wave tactic suddenly turned into a brutal, close-quarters sword fight.

And what terrified them most was—what the hell was happening?

What kind of power was this?

“Ghosts! She’s summoning ghosts! She’s desecrating the dead!”

Count Perry screamed in terror, his voice like a rooster’s—hideous to hear.