Chapter 137: The Decisive Battle

"How dare he! How could he!" Hadi rose to his feet, strode directly out of the main camp, and was met with the cacophony of shouting and clashing weapons outside.

On the other side, surrounded by a massive army, a handsome man stood watching the distant battle with a calm expression. Beside him, an elderly priest clad in high priest robes stood in silence.

"I have done as you requested, taking the initiative to lead my forces in an assault on the Royal Court's camp. Surely this is enough to demonstrate my sincerity," the handsome man said, looking at the priest. His face was tinged with melancholy and fatigue, yet his expression remained composed as he gazed forward.

The elderly priest nodded with a smile. "Your Highness, the First Prince, please rest assured. The conditions we agreed upon will not change." He retrieved an object from his robes, handed it to the man, and silently stepped back.

A moment later, the Second Prince approached, his golden hair strikingly visible. "Brother, I do not understand," he said, looking forward. "We could have agreed to Hadi's terms and stepped aside to watch them fight. Why must we intervene, even helping outsiders attack the Royal Court?"

The First Prince sighed. "True, if we had agreed to a truce with Hadi, we could have bought time to recover and observe the situation. But what would be the point of that?" He continued, his tone shifting. "Our conflict with him became irreconcilable the moment he ordered our execution and the annihilation of our mother's clan. Even if we were to truce now out of necessity, he would surely move against us once this crisis passes. He would never honor his promises."

"Instead of that, we might as well defect to the Principality of Aethelred. As for this Royal Court, even if it falls, it will have nothing to do with us anymore." His eyes were filled with sorrow.

The Second Prince fell silent. "But Brother, have you considered," he eventually asked, "even if we abandon the Royal Court for Aethelred, how do we know how they will view us? After all, we are descendants of the Royal Court. What if, once they have finished using us, they decide to wipe us out?" His analysis was cold and rational, refusing to assume the Principality of Aethelred could be relied upon.

"That is why we must become one of their own," the First Prince replied with a sudden smile. Amidst the Second Prince’s confusion, he opened the wooden box the priest had given him.

Suddenly, a surge of immense vitality erupted. Countless natural elements swirled wildly, as if drawn by something, instinctually rejoicing. Inside lay two crisp, vibrant leaves, appearing as if they had just been plucked from their source. Mysterious, intricate patterns were woven across their surfaces.

"This is?" The Second Prince stared at the leaves. An instinctive craving arose within him, like a parched traveler in the desert suddenly finding water.

Seeing his reaction, the First Prince smiled, a hint of wistfulness in his eyes. "Legend says the God of Nature was born in ancient times, nurtured by the world itself. Its true form was a divine tree as tall as the world. These are two leaves from that divine tree."

He explained with excitement, then looked at his brother. "Second Brother, do you know the legend of the God-born in the North?"

"Brother, do you mean Kuruba, the God-born of the Principality of Aethelred, who legend says consumed the leaves of the divine tree to become a God-born, capable of battling cataclysmic beasts single-handedly?" The Second Prince’s eyes lit up.

"Exactly," the First Prince said. "The God-born are so called because they consumed the divine leaves, gaining a trace of divine blood. If we consume these, we too shall become God-born. For the sake of the God of Nature, the Principality of Aethelred will not only refrain from harming us, but we will become the most noble of aristocrats. After all, this is divine blood; even an ordinary person can grow to rival a cataclysmic beast." His eyes shone with uncontrollable excitement.

***

With the rebel forces refusing a truce and launching an offensive, and the Royal Court’s main force pinned down, Aethelred decisively led his army in a surprise attack. With the secret surrender of local guides, his hundred-thousand-strong force advanced unimpeded, aiming straight for the Imperial Capital.

This scene was almost identical to the Royal Court’s invasion of the North years prior—relying on sheer power to capture the enemy capital and end the war in a single stroke. Forced into a corner, the Royal Court abandoned its outer territories and retreated rapidly, managing to pull back its main force despite the rebels' attempts to intercept them. Of course, the Royal Court paid a heavy price for this.

A month later, outside the Imperial Capital, Aethelred stood with his officers, frowning at the sight before him. High walls stood silent, guarded by countless knights. The defensive line appeared impenetrable, enough to fill any attacker with despair.

"Compared to the capital's defenses, the lines we faced before were practically ruins," Nadir said, his face pale.

"Could we have the Pope lead the altar group and see if they can blast through the wall?" Carter suggested, his expression equally grim.

"It will not work," Bill interjected. "Inside the capital, I sense a powerful evil god’s influence protecting it. Even if the Pope strikes, I fear he cannot break through."

Aethelred looked up at the walls. As the struggle for the Child of the World neared its end, vast world energy began to condense and wrap around his body. In the void, omens appeared: two pillars of heaven rose, their respective fates clashing and stalemating, with no clear winner yet.

Aethelred remained calm. "Let us attempt to storm the walls first," he commanded.

Unlike other city defenses, the Imperial Capital possessed the greatest number of knights in the world. Even with Aethelred promoting battle energy within his own ranks for years, he still could not match the Royal Court's long-standing accumulation. With so many powerful defenders, the brutality of the battle was predictable. In this theater, knights were merely common soldiers; only Great Knights held weight, and only Earth Knights could ensure their own survival.

"A brutal battle indeed," Aethelred sighed, watching the carnage on the walls. He had no other choice but to watch.

"Priest group, unleash divine arts!" After a while, seeing the battle reach a stalemate, he gave the order. The priests began to channel divine power in unison, releasing spell after spell that suppressed the knights on the walls, buying time for Aethelred’s warriors.

"Your Majesty, Lords Nadir and Carter request to join the front lines!" a messenger cried from afar. Aethelred nodded his permission.

The fighting continued for three long months.

"Your Majesty, based on our scouts and past intelligence, we have estimated the detailed state of the capital," Bill said that night in the main camp. "We estimate there are fifty thousand troops remaining inside, with at least two years' worth of grain reserves."

The others frowned and looked toward Aethelred. He smiled slightly. "Do not worry. Since they can hold out, we shall simply wait them out. After years of preparation, our rear is entirely secure. If it comes to a war of attrition, we have nothing to fear. Besides, after such a long time, there may yet be a turning point within the capital." He gazed at the distant walls, his golden eyes calm and mysterious.

***

Meanwhile, in a luxurious building within the Imperial Capital, a middle-aged man sighed as he looked at the letter in his hand.

"Father, are you still hesitating?" A figure appeared—a young man in armor.

"Sigh... Ailin, has it really come to this?" the man asked, looking haggard. Ailin remained silent. If one looked closely, they would see a divine emblem engraved with a tree pattern pinned to his chest.

"If I could, I would not want this," Ailin eventually sighed. "Our family has served the Royal Court for centuries. If I could, I would continue to serve. But now, the time for a choice has truly come. Since the Royal Court declined and the Principality of Aethelred rose in the North, the Court has grown increasingly weak. Now, the capital itself is besieged, barely holding on by the strength of its walls."

"Father, do you know? In every region, the knight commanders have already secretly rebelled, waiting only for your signal."

The middle-aged man started, instinctively wanting to ask more, but after a moment of thought, he could only offer a bitter smile, his hands dropping helplessly. The siege of the capital had consequences far beyond the ordinary; it shattered the Royal Court's prestige and caused the loyalty of the old nobility to waver. Even those who did not wish to rebel were being pushed by their own families.

Thus, as the campaign outside the capital dragged on for another month, a subtle shift began to take place.