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The Witcher: Lord of the Empire

"The person coming is The White Flame Dancing on the Barrows of his Enemies, the Emperor of the Nilfgaard Empire—Emhyr var Emreis." Listening to the herald's voice, Emperor Emhyr at the bottom of the steps looked at the man sitting on the throne - and his daughter sitting next to him - and couldn't figure out how much he had gone through in these short ten years. , how did this guy change from a lost dog who lost his country to what he is today? At this time, the herald’s voice sounded again: "Before you are - the Lion King of Cintra, the Heir to the Ancient Blood, the Dragon Slayer, the Sword of the Dawn, the Gryphon Knight of the Lady of the Lake, the Monster Bane, the Mentor of the Order of Witchers, the Witcher Lifelong Counselor of the Brotherhood of Sorcerers, Archon of Novigrad, Sage of Oxenfurt Academy, Breaker of Slave Chains, Frostbreaker, Redeemer... - His Majesty Lann Lannister Riannon!" --- This is a translation of a Chinese Novel, with minor changes in some parts of the original story. I don't own the picture in the novel cover.

TitoVillar · หนังสือและวรรณกรรม
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217 Chs

Chapter 214: An Uncertain Alliance

Just as Lann had mentioned, the situation of the united kingdom of Lyria and Rivia and Cintra was strikingly similar.

Especially in terms of geographical location, the United Kingdom of Lyria and Rivia is also located in the southernmost part of the North. It can even be said that the border of this Kingdom is the border of the North.

The only difference with Cintra was that between this kingdom and the south flowed the Yaruga River. This great river runs through the North and almost never freezes. During the rainy season, the water level rose so high that the river reached up to a mile wide, earning it the nickname of the insurmountable barrier between the North and the South.

That is why Cintra became the first stop for Nilfgaard to invade the North.

After the fall of the capital of Cintra and the withdrawal of the remaining troops to Brokilon, Nilfgaard was able to capture Lower Sodden and then march into the United Kingdom of Lyria and Rivia.

While Lann and Meve were talking, daily patrols were probably already taking place at the front to monitor any enemy movement, with frequent skirmishes threatening to escalate.

If the united army and sorcerers of the North had not defeated the main force of Nilfgaard at Sodden Hill, perhaps now Meve would have followed in Calanthe's footsteps and become the second regrettable queen of the North.

So Lann never considered winning over Queen Meve, because Queen Meve was Cintra's most natural ally. In the entire North, except for Lann, perhaps only the people of the United Kingdom hoped that Cintra would be restored as soon as possible.

During his visit, Lann sought more than anything to express an attitude of seeking help and support, as well as to present a gift: the painting.

After listening to Lann's words, Queen Meve narrowed her eyes slightly and asked the wine waiter to pour her another glass of wine.

Then she asked: "I heard that you left Cintra two months earlier, and even took a detour in the middle. You wanted to visit the kings before the meeting, right?"

This was not something that could be concealed or worth concealing, and Lann nodded very straightforwardly.

Meve suddenly sighed. "If my two sons had even half of your ability..."

Lann felt a slight tug on his face, unsure how to respond to this unexpected statement. Was she praising him?

"Then I think you must have met Foltest and Vizimir."

"Yes."

"What did you say to them?"

Lann organized his words and said: "I have reached an agreement with His Majesty Vizimir II to jointly resist Nilfgaard. He promised to send troops to resist Nilfgaard and help us persuade other participants at the meeting."

Meve nodded in understanding. "Vizimir has a keen insight into the overall situation. And Foltest?"

Lann recalled his firm 'alliance' with Foltest's daughter.

But it is better not to talk about this kind of thing openly. Foltest himself probably doesn't know about it yet.

Lann thought for a moment and said: "His Majesty Foltest has no good feelings towards Nilfgaard, but he is not willing to spend extra effort to help Cintra. He has great confidence in Temeria and believes that his kingdom is strong enough to fight the Black Sun alone."

Meve sat up straight, clearly surprised. "Why? Foltest is also a wise king. He should not be so unclear about the situation. Helping Cintra is much easier than fighting Nilfgaard by himself."

Lann lowered his head and sighed. "He proposed a condition that I cannot accept."

"What is it?"

"He wants Princess Cirilla to marry his illegitimate son."

When saying this, Lann's eyes revealed a trace of anger at the right time.

Meve immediately picked up on that change. In her mind, she thought: 'No matter how shrewd he is in politics or how brave he is on the battlefield, in the end he is still a young man.'

However, remembering the songs and poems that spoke of the 'knight and the princess', 'the lion and the princess', and other similar romantic stories that circulated in the North, she understood his reaction.

After all, she herself was a fervent believer in love.

Whether out of gratitude towards Lann for saving her army or a desire to strengthen the common front against Nilfgaard, Meve decided to offer her support.

"Helping Cintra is helping myself, so I will try my best to persuade other kings to help Cintra at the meeting."

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

Queen Meve shook her head gently and asked: "You haven't met Demavend and Henselt yet?"

"No, not yet."

The queen absentmindedly stroked the jewel on her chest before continuing: "The kingdom of Aedirn, ruled by Demavend, is right behind mine. Although he is a cruel tyrant, he is not lacking in military acumen. I am sure he understands the threat of Nilfgaard. Besides, our relationship is quite good, it will not be difficult to gain his support."

"Thank you."

The queen continued: "Foltest is not a stubborn man either. Although his tastes are... peculiar, he has a clear understanding of the situation. If the majority at the meeting decides to confront Nilfgaard, he will not oppose something that can only benefit him."

"That's enough." Lann said: "With Temeria as our rearguard, Her Majesty fighting alongside us at the front, and Vizimir's support, I am confident that we will be able to drive the Nilfgaardians out of the North."

Queen Meve sighed. "No, it's not that simple, Lann."

"Lann, I've mentioned several kings to you, but I haven't said anything about Henselt. And Henselt is, without a doubt, the most troublesome of all. He may not help you, but he certainly has the power to stop others from doing so."

Lann was stunned. "I've heard some rumors about him..."

"Then I can tell you responsibly that no matter what rumors you hear about him, most of them are true."

"Henselt has been relentlessly harassing the kingdom of Demavend since he assumed the throne. If Aedirn sends troops south to fight Nilfgaard, don't be surprised if Henselt takes advantage of the opportunity to attack Aedirn."

Lann was speechless. "That's..."

Queen Meve shook her head. Henselt's recklessness has always been the biggest headache for other powerful kingdoms in the North. Although the other people who can become the monarchs of the four major kingdoms have more or less quirks, they are still qualified politicians in their bones.

Henselt, on the other hand, often made her question how he had managed to stay in power.

"Moreover..." Queen Meve added seriously. "Lann, you have to be mentally prepared."

"It's true that these kings can see the situation clearly, but if you really want them to lend a helping hand to Cintra, you will have to pay a certain price."

"Perhaps you really need to start considering Cirilla's marriage..."

Meve's words hung heavy in the air.

Before Lann could respond, a loud, drawn-out horn blast echoed outside.

[Braaaaaaam~]

"Vizimir has finally arrived. Everyone is here." Meve commented. "The meeting is about to begin."

...

Just as the main forces in the North gathered at Hagge Castle, on the other side of the world, a man wearing Black Sun Armor was lowering his head.

His armor was even more imposing than the ones seen on Nilfgaard's officers on the battlefield. Although most of the engravings on it were covered by sword marks and dust, one could still discern the care the blacksmith had put into making it unique.

Despite his imposing appearance at that moment he appeared more submissive and polite than any royal butler, as he delivered a report: "Vizimir, Foltest, Demavend, Henselt, Meve, and Lann of Cintra... They have all arrived at Hagge Castle in the Pontar Valley. They are holding private discussions."

In front of him was a thin, black-haired man with an upright posture.

"These are not private conversations, the whole North, and even the South, know about their meeting. They want everyone in the North to know, and they want us to know too."

"Four kings, a queen, and a young earl." The slender black-haired man chuckled. "Can you guess what they are talking about? Coehoorn, my marshal?"

"I can guess." The marshal answered briefly without saying another word. He knew that the man with his back to him hated anyone making unnecessary comments in front of him.

"Only four great kingdoms and two gates... They didn't invite Redania, Sodden, or even Kovir." The black-haired man shook his head. "That means they're either extremely confident, or they're unsure. They haven't invited any of the sorcerers either. That's not only interesting, but significant."

"That is so," replied the marshal with the same brevity.

The black-haired man didn't turn to look at him. "Still no news from Rience or the witchers?"

"We have received no information from Rience, but as for the witchers..." The marshal looked up. "It seems they have joined Lann of Cintra."

"Are you telling me that our intelligence system has failed?"

"I'm afraid so."

"So I guess I won't be getting Rience's report, right?"

"I'm afraid not."

The black-haired man walked to the window and stood still for a long while, looking out at the rain-drenched hills.

Marshal Coehoorn waited, his hand nervously clenching the pommel of his sword and then releasing it, he was worried that he would be forced to listen to another long monologue. The marshal knew that the person standing by the window regarded the monologue as a dialogue, and the dialogue as a proof of privilege and trust.

"Coehoorn, I should have called you Governor at this time, you know? And this piece of land in front of you is your province, Cintra Province. It's a pity that all this has been destroyed, by a guy who is seventeen... or eighteen years old?"

He chuckled. "The Lion of Cintra... I met his father once. It seems that Cintrians always become famous very young."

"The Cintra of the past was not what we see now." He said as he stretched out his hand towards the south, where a part of Cintra remained desolate under the curtain of rain.

The marshal lowered his head. "My apologies, we've been delayed."

"Yes, you do need to apologize, so I hope you can make amends."

"I want you to go to Dol Angra. You will leave when the rebellion is quelled. My troops in Dol Angra need a reliable commander who will not accept provocation. The Merry Widow of Lyria and Demavend of Aedirn...will provoke us at any time. You have to control those young officers and calm their impulsive heads. You can only accept the challenge when I give you an order. Before that, stay put."

"As you command."

Dol Angra is a valley and a valuable trade route for Lyria and Rivia, Aedirn, Dol Blathanna and Kaedwen with the south. The trade route crosses the Yaruga river roughly mid-course, where it is at its most shallow and continues north to the Pontar and Temeria.

In short, this is a major transportation route and a strategic location.

"Additionally, hire some bounty hunters and mercenaries to head to Skellige, under the pretext of avenging Gors Velen. Harass them and keep them busy, but do not allow them to plunder the southern coast any further. It is not yet time to confront them."

"As you command."

A sudden clatter of weapons and spurs echoed from the hall, followed by loud voices.

Someone knocked on the door.

The black-haired man turned around and nodded. The marshal bowed slightly and left the room.

He then returned to the table and sat down, bending over the map. He examined it for a long time, until he finally rested his forehead on his clasped hands.

A large gemstone on her ring sparkled in the candlelight, as if a thousand flames were burning within it.

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