Titan Beneath the Heavens Chapter 218

Everyone in the room could not help but exchange glances with each other as the Prince finished speaking. General Janin Sherman frowned and whispered to his master, "Marquis Glenn Alpré is waiting for you outside..."

A strange expression washed over Oscar's face. He knew that each inexplicable dreams or hallucinations he had must be related to the guy Alpré. If the Religious Court was not so powerful, Oscar believed that Glenn would have been burned more than ten times by now.

Marquis Alpré quickly stood from his seat when His Highness the Prince entered the living room. He bowed graciously to Oscar, removed his hat, and carefully positioned it on the back of the high chair before the Prince of Empire could speak a word. Oscar had no idea how to deal with such an overcautious gentleman. He waved to the Marquis and gestured him to sit down. Alpré then sat down with great gratitude.

The attendant handed over a mouthwash to the Prince. Oscar rinsed off his stinky breath then wiped his face with a hot scented towel. Lastly, he threw all these things aside and sat on the couch, staring at the old man quietly.

Oscar shook his head and sighed. He was first to broke the long silence.

"Lord Marquis, I prefer how you looked when you were younger."

The old man could not help but laugh, and His Highness the Prince joined in. Although Oscar felt that the whole thing was unreasonable, his subconscious convinced him that Alpré and the people around him did not have any bad intentions. The southern nobles have already boarded on the big sailboat along with O'Neil Andrew Morisette, naturally, they would all hope that the ship could reach the end destination safely and steadily.

The old marquis finally became serious after laughing for a while. He took out a stack of documents from the folder, "Your Highness, we earnestly ask for your opinion. The Government of five provinces has already announced the agenda for the establishment of a third-tier council, but most officials do not want to hold an election during the war, hence -"

"Hence everybody hopes that the third-tier council will be executed by people they are familiar with," Oscar interrupted. "and not by those little businessmen who dream of freedom and equality."

"That's right!"

Oscar took over the document. He knew that this should be the list of parliamentarians that had been agreed upon by the southern government. Scanning the list from top to bottom, Oscar noticed several names on the list that sounded familiar even to him. It should be safe to leave the third-tier council to these people.

"Get me a pen and paper."

Major Kirk Dexton, who was on standby, quickly ran into the study. Soon after, he returned with the things required by the Prince.

Oscar received the paper and pen, and signed his name on the end of the document before stamping down the seal belonged to the Prince of Titan Empire. After the ink dried, he returned the document to Marquis Alpré, and examined the receiving party with a pair of relaxed eyes.

"Alright, Your Highness, we've settled another big matter," Old Marquis retrieved the documents in delight and turned around to face Oscar, who had visibly softened. "Now… shall we talk about your issues?"

"My issue?" Oscar frowned. He did not want to admit but he was indeed facing a thorny problem.

Marquis Alpré spread his hands and began reciting a poem.

"Amidst the storm created by God of Light, the poet stood naked, above his head was the light gifted by the heavenly Father. Through his body, his hand, he grabbed the rays of light and offered it to the public. Disguised as poems, he gave them the gifts from the heavens. We tried to grasp this light with our sinful hands, but it will not escape the attention of our Holy Father. God says to sinners, 'Take your hand off, or I'll burn it into ashes.'"

Oscar thought for a moment, "This is the twenty-seventh chapter of Blue Hat Greg."

"You have a good memory!" The old man complimented the young Prince of the Empire, and the latter smiled happily. "Do you know why I recited this paragraph to you?"

Oscar pondered briefly, but he was not entirely sure if he has fully grasped the metaphors implied in poetry, "It seems to be saying... when the storm comes, even God could be merciless; that God will not be forgiving toward the sinners and those who provoked him, but instead shines on them the light of judgment."

"Exactly!" Marquis Alpré nodded. "Being a poet is a painful profession, for instance... knowing that the Father, God, in heaven will judge and punish sinners on the Earth, but they can't express that in poetry! Poetry is supposed to inspire, motivate, educate, and remind people in the literary style. It should not intimidate, degenerate, mock, or give people the wrong illusion! Therefore, I insist that poetry is sacred, but poets are not."

Oscar looked up to the ceiling, he had no idea what the old Marquis was trying to say.

"Your Highness! In your opinion, what is the most sacred?"

"Andrew!" Oscar replied almost without thinking.

"I have heard that the sacred Andrew is inviolable," the poet nodded. When he was younger, he published a volume of poetry that praised the Narcissus Knights. He could understand the emotions of the Andrew people.

"Then, Your Highness... there is a question that needs to be explained. Why is Andrew so sacred and inviolable? Why must those who violate Andrew be punished?"

Oscar scratched his head at the strange question. Nobody has ever asked this before!

The Andrew warriors were chosen by God, therefore they were naturally sacred. Since Andrew was sacred, those who violated it would inevitably be punished, because of... because of what?

O'Neil Andrew Morisette widened his eyes, feeling dazzled as he found himself unable to answer, "Poetry is sacred... but poets are not! For the same reason, Andrew is sacred, but Andrew people are not. Do you understand what I mean?"

Oscar nodded slowly, "Andrew people created the sacred Andrew, therefore Andrew is sacred, but the Andrew people are not. I understand perfectly now!"

Marquis Alpré suddenly pressed his hand on the shoulder of the Imperial Prince, "Do you remember, Your Highness? I once said that we will meet again when you are only one step away from the ultimate goal. Now is the time! Your final step is to thoroughly sanctify the Andrew people, or even yourself!"

"I don't understand... I'm not God!" Oscar shook his head again and again.

Alpré did not let go of his hand, "No, Your Highness! You are the leader of the God-chosen warriors; you conquered the Pagans who had been fighting the religious world for centuries in Anatolia; you're also the liberator of millions of believers in Slovenia. When you set your sights on the Roman Holy See, the Pope His Grand Eminence will grant you a saint's title in the name of God of Light. Although this is only the first step of your deification process, this ceremony is of utmost significance!"

"But this will not solve the current problem..." Oscar whispered. He could not figure out why being granted a saint's name by the Holy See was important.

"The current problem?" the old Marquis smiled. "Are you thinking about the soprano singer?"

Oscar nodded in embarrassment.

"First, you have to decide... if the baby in Lady Elizabeth Kate's belly is of Andrew descendant."

"What do you mean?" Oscar vigilantly stared at the sly old Alpré.

"You understand perfectly what I mean! As long as you make it an established fact, the child will have nothing to do with Andrew! Besides, hosting a wedding of your adopted daughter and a Prince of Engels will make your name known abroad. This will definitely benefit you in future foreign associations."

"Make it an established fact?" Oscar was even more embarrassed now. "Do you want me to put Elizabeth on William's bed? I can't do that!"

"Of course, that's not what I mean!" Alpré dismissed it with a wave of his hand and grinned. "Lady Elizabeth is bright and smart, she knows how to control her own destiny. Moreover... some things must be done deliberately, but some things are up to chance. You don't have to worry at all, you just have to step up your plan to make the Narcissus, the Titans, and everyone in the Westland believe that - O'Neil Andrew Morisette is not only a Prince but also the God's legal representative."

"This is easier said than done," Oscar was finally getting tempted.

Alpré waved his hand again, "Your Highness, this is simple! You should notice how I described it... God's legal representative! The word legal is the key! The clause that defines this word is neither the Titan Codex nor the words of Alanis I Her Majesty, but God! It is a law that God from the Heavens has made for you. Not one resistance in the world can overturn this rule!"

"In this case... I must get full support from the Supreme Holy See!"

"That's right!" the old Marquis nodded. "It's not complicated to make deals with the Holy See! Radriere VI no longer concerned himself with the issues of the world, as he will be summoned by God anytime soon. The coronation ceremony for the new Pope His Grand Eminence will be held in October. Do you know what to do?"

"Ola!" Oscar shouted, "The new pope is committed to strengthening the power of the church. His relationship with the Italia Emanuel Dynasty is tense, mainly because the Emanuel Dynasty was unable to provide for the Roman Holy See's gradual increasing expenses. By October... I believe that Narcissus Knights would have returned from their fruitful journey from Slovenia, therefore... even if the new Pope is a Faran, I guess he will not refuse shining gold! He and his servants need support desperately."

"Haha! It looks like you already have the key to heaven. All that's left is..."

"What is it?"

Alpré pressed his voice low, as he knew that his forthcoming comments were somewhat disrespectful, "Your Highness, the rest must be made clear! The Holy See is only filled with clowns that have eyes for gold and wealth. You must understand when and how to use them to your benefits, but you must also know when and how to kick them away when necessary."

Oscar nodded again, as the Marquis's palm finally left his shoulder.

"Finally, Your Highness, I want to apologize to you. Nightmares and hallucinations may cause you some problems, but you should know that people with a mature mind can't be disillusioned. If you are frightened or depressed because of all this, it only shows that you have some unspeakable concerns in the depths of your heart!"

"Unspeakable concerns?" Oscar whispered from the bottom of his heart. He knew that Alpré was aware of his concerns, he was only choosing not to reveal it. Or perhaps, Alpré believed that there was no need to worry over those things.

"Oh yes!" Oscar suddenly remembered something, "For the sake of God of Light, you have to tell me what the crystal ball is all about? Are the images in the crystal ball real? Or -"

"Your Highness!" Marquis waved his hand again and again. "That is only a trick of the diviner. The way I see it, they're nothing more than just harmless jokes!"

The Tribiani House's history of being the court diviner for the Kingdom of Slovenia could be traced back to the ancient era of Roman mythology. It was said that the ancestors of the family were the followers of the goddess of wisdom in learning witchcraft and divination. When the God of Light had not yet been introduced, Tribiani had their own believers and gospels. However, if these things were being put into contemporary times, they would be considered the ugliest blasphemy. As a result, Tribiani never showed off their distinguishable ancestry to the public, instead only revealing their divination magic to the King of Slovenia.

Somewhere in the royal palace of Saravenir, in the capital of Slovenia, Tribiani House's court diviner occupied a small courtyard. There was a Persian stone dome in the middle of the courtyard, and on the roof stood a pagan totem composed of new moon and pentagram.

The interior of the stone house was spotless. The flowers and plants outside further brought out the dense green around the carved doors and windows of the house. There were no furniture or seats inside the house. There were only white marble walls, fluffy wool carpets, and Persian pillows with various colors and patterns.

Tirana XI sat crossed-leg on the rug. An exquisite wooden box was placed in front of him, and a giant crystal ball was positioned in the box. The crystal ball shone brightly, and the expression on the King of Slovenia was also changing with uncertainty.

Eventually, the spells of a diviner flooded the room, and the crystal ball suddenly lost its luster. The initially-transparent sphere appeared as though it was contaminated. The white ball turned into a dark mass of glassy material. The king came to his consciousness suddenly and opened his tired eyes, but the diviner could still notice there was a long-lost smile concealed behind the corner of Tirana XI eyes.

"What did you see?" the seductive female voice asked. A pair of almost perfect bare feet stepped on the soft carpet. The King of Slovenia set his sight on this pair of beautiful feet for a moment, before slowly moving his gaze upward.

The current Tribiani court diviner covered her face behind a black veil like a noble Persian lady. Behind the gold-silver cotton veil was a pair of chestnut-colored eyes that belonged to a fortune-teller. She waited calmly for the king's answer, completely ignoring the encroachment on her done by His Majesty the King.

Tirana XI was still sitting on the carpet, with one of his hands wrapped around the fortune teller's thigh. He had already reached the depths of the Diviner's veil, but he continued to grope upwards along the curve of the circle...

"I see... the battlefield! The knights of the kingdom are full of glory. They break into the enemy's camp and kill relentlessly! I also see... myself in armor, shouting loudly in the center of the battlefield, 'Live! Long live!'" The King looked up and stared into the eyes of the diviner. "Alysee Tribiani, can you explain this to me?"

The court diviner moved slightly backward and pushed the king's hand away.

"Your Majesty, haven't you already seen it? I believe you know what you have to do."

"Yes, yes!" His Majesty the King nodded again and again. "I want to personally lead the military expedition. I have to live up to my grace since the God has already passed down His prophecy. I will drive the Titans out of my country, not to mention O'Neil Andrew Morisette!"

"And now..." the king turned to the diviner dressed in a black veil. With one light push, the mysterious woman fell right under his arms.

The news that the king was about to lead the kingdom army to fight against the Titans' invasion spread throughout Saravenir in the evening of the same day. The citizens that fled had rushed back to the capital. They gathered at the palace square and hailed as though they were celebrating a carnival. The news was equally shocking to the nobles and high-ranking officers. The kingdom soldiers who stayed in the capital were gearing up themselves, whereas officials of the pro-war faction ridiculed their enemies who held opposing political views with the harshest remarks.

The pro-peace faction seemed to have lost their voices in an instant. Those arrogant lords bowed their heads down as they gathered in the corner of the palace, either whispering gossips or criticizing the current politics as usual without much enthusiasm. It was not until Marshal Fernandy, who had just returned from the barracks near the capital, barged into the palace with a team of knights that the atmosphere of unusual joy calmed down completely.

The king spread his hand at the angry old Marshal, "What are you planning to do?"

"To stop you!" Marshal Fernandy raised his head high and stared at Tirana XI as if he was a useless bug that had contributed nothing to the world. "I want to stop your madness! To stop you from leading the country to the path of destruction! To stop you -"

"Enough!" The king waved his hand impatiently. Numerous kingdom soldiers emerged from all corners of the palace. They pressed the knight who mocked the king down to the ground and rudely removed the swords of the knights.

"Your Majesty! What are you doing?"

"What am I doing?" Tirana XI rushed forward hysterically after remaining silent for a long time. "I have had enough of your lesson, and I have had enough of your face whenever you look at me like you were looking at some mentally-disturbed child. Did you know that the letter from Secretary of State, Raleigh Thomas, has just arrived? He has reached an agreement with His Highness Prince O'Neil Andrew Morisette. Although our country will lose part of its sovereignty, Prince O'Neil guaranteed that the Narcissus Knights will not assist the Imperial Guards in their unilateral actions!"

"Oh my God! Your Highness! You believe that traitor?"

The king became even more impatient. He retrieved a letter from the hidden drawer under the throne and threw it on the Marshal's face, "Look who is sending secret information to the Titan Military Intelligence Bureau! It was found in your study room, and you still have the audacity to slander Marquis Raleigh Thomas who had contributed for the kingdom!"

"No! No!" Fernandy shook his head frantically, his hand was already pressing down on the hilt of the marshal's sword he had had for years. "This is a trap! Your Majesty! This is the most shameless framing!"

The king was indifferent to his defense, "We will only know this after the war! However, you must unload your Marshal's Sword, and hand over the flag and command authority to the Kingdom Guards."

"What happens if I don't agree?" the old man suddenly calmed down. He knew that all this was a trap set up by the enemy and the traitor.

Tirana XI completely lost interest, and he gestured to the guards in the palace. After hesitating for a moment, the soldiers continued holding down to the old Marshal's arm forcefully.

"If you don't give up the command... you will be the traitor to the country. History will announce you as a national traitor to the future generations!"

"Haha..." the old Marshal smiled helplessly. Serving a fatuous and incompetent monarch was ridiculous. Fernandy had assisted two kings in his life. He had never betrayed the country and the king throughout his army life, but now… he was regarded as a traitor by the monarch that he had sworn his allegiance to.

The Marshal looked at the bureaucracy hidden behind the left side of the palace. Those were the pro-war faction, a group of patriotic people with clueless minds. It seemed that this group of people was more or less playing to the gallery. The Marshal looked to his right and noticed the people from the pro-peace faction. These people consisted mostly of religious fanatics and psychopaths with serious religious discrimination. That being said...

"You are all the traitors of the country!"

The king struck the man using his wand. The old man was beaten to a pulp, but he still scorned at the sinners and traitors.

In a hidden corner of the palace, the diviner who had been draped in dark veil laid down the curtain. Everything that had just happened was seen by her own eyes. Looking at the loyal attendant next to herself, the diviner waved her hand impatiently and reprimanded, "What are you waiting for? Go tell your master that all obstacles have been gotten rid of!"

Chapter end