Chapter 143: An Invitation Refused
“Your Highness!”
Minister Ren said, his tone sharp, with no pretense of respect.
“Surely you don’t truly believe the scout’s… fantasy? Weapons that can kill Demonic Beasts in a single strike? Civilians leading a defense? He must be hallucinating!”
A few of the other ministers nodded in agreement.
They didn’t want the Princess taking the scout’s words seriously and pulling another stunt like last time—talking about saving the Middle City.
Why waste valuable resources on saving commoners who are as good as dead?
Better to hold onto the resources until the Demonic Beasts got bored and moved on.
“I didn’t say I believed it,” she said honestly. “But I do intend to find out whether it’s true or not.”
“Let’s just wait for the scout to bring back the leader of the shelter and the weapon. We’ll all know the truth then.”
***
Five hours later…
The sun was beginning to dip behind the Vermilion Palace’s towering spires when the twin doors to the Main Hall creaked open once more.
All eyes turned as the scout—still in the same bloodied, dirt-streaked armor—stepped in.
Alone.
Again.
No leader.
No weapon.
Just him.
The silence was immediate. Heavy and Suspicious.
The Princess, still seated at the head of the chamber, stood slowly, her crimson and gold robes rustling softly.
Her gaze sharpened.
“Where is he? The leader of the shelter?”
The scout halted in the center of the hall, lowering his head.
“Your Highness, he… he didn’t come with me.”
Whispers ignited instantly—furious, scornful, incredulous.
“He lied! There never was a weapon! Hell, I doubt there’s a group of survivors.”
“Of course! We should’ve known. He must have some kind of scheme in mind. Princess, we must capture and interrogate him.”
“Why did we even entertain this farce? Wasting our precious time on this man?”
…
Minister Ren slammed his palm against the marble railing in front of his seat.
“You insult us all by returning empty-handed! Do you take the Vermilion Court for fools?!”
“Answer carefully,” Minister Duan added coldly. “Because without evidence, your testimony holds no weight—and spreading false hope in wartime is a crime punishable by execution.”
The scout clenched his fists, trembling slightly—but when he spoke, his voice was clear.
“I told the truth!”
The scout replied quickly.
“Then where is this so-called leader? Where is the weapon that supposedly kills Demonic Beasts in a single strike?”
Minister Ren snapped.
The scout looked up, jaw tight.
“H-He refused to come.”
The Princess narrowed her eyes in surprise.
“Did you tell him it was my request?”
“Yes, Your Highness!”
The scout nodded, clearly uneasy.
“I told him that the Princess of the Vermilion Throne wished to speak with him personally.”
The room went dead silent.
“And he said,” the scout continued, “that even if it was the Princess herself… if she wanted something from him—then it’s only right that she should come to him.”
Gasps. Outrage. A stunned silence that swiftly exploded into chaos.
“Insolence!”
“How dare he?!”
“This so-called leader is nothing more than a disrespectful savage!”
“A civilian dares command the presence of royalty?!”
…
Of course, while yelling those things, many were laughing inwardly—seeing just how far the Princess’s status had fallen.
“Then perhaps we need to send an invitation from our side.”
Minister Ren said, thinking that the leader of the shelter might be pro-minister and would accept his summons instead.
“Sorry, but the Captain—the leader of the shelter—said that no matter who it is, if they wished to speak with him, they had to go to him themselves.”
The scout said bluntly.
The scout also might have considered the possibility that he hated the Royal Family like many others and asked him on behalf of the minister instead but that too got rejected with the same condition.
If they want to talk to him, then they should be the ones going to him—not the other way around.
Minister Duan rose from his seat, trembling with real fury now.
“Your Highness, we should send a detachment immediately! Arrest this man for treasonous defiance!”
Others were in agreement. Since when did tolerate such arrogant behaviour from commoners?
But the Princess raised a hand, and once more, the hall fell still.
“He didn’t give you one of the weapons either?”
The scout shook his head.
“No, Your Highness. I asked to bring one back, but he declined. Said they had a limited supply—and couldn’t afford to part with a single one.”
A few ministers scoffed.
“Paranoid delusions!”
The Princess’s expression was unreadable. Her hands were tightly clenched within her sleeves—but her voice remained calm.
“And what else did he say? Did he have any demands? Any interest in coming to the Inner City?”
She was thinking—maybe this man wanted a deal. A bribe. Protection. Some selfish trade to save himself and enrich himself.
It would be greedy, yes—but could she really blame him?
She had been protected within the palace walls, powerless to save the Middle or Outer City.
She wasn’t in position to blame anyone but herself.
The scout shook his head.
“He didn’t seem interested in any of that. In fact… I don’t think he’s even afraid of the Demonic Beasts. He mocked us—said that incompetent people couldn’t even protect a city from such weak creatures.”
Another burst of outrage.
Ministers shouted over each other, demanding retribution, dismissing the scout as a liar, the leader as a traitor.
Calls for military action echoed across the hall.
But the Princess simply closed her eyes for a moment.
Then opened them.
“Enough!”
She said softly, and her voice cut through the uproar like a blade.
The ministers stopped.
(Could the leader of the shelter really be so arrogant while facing disaster? Are their weapons so powerful that he doesn’t even worry about the Demonic Beast roaming around?)
The Princess thought.
She could already tell: the person leading the survivors in the Middle City was extremely arrogant. Bold beyond reason.
But… if he had achieved what the scout claimed… perhaps he deserved to be arrogant?
“So,” she said quietly, “he’s willing to meet me… if I go to him?”
“It seems so, Your Highness!”
“Mmm… And do you think we can trust this man?”
“Yes, Your Majesty!”
The scout answered firmly.
“He is trusted by every survivor. He helped them all—whether they were injured, useful, or not.”
The scout still couldn’t believe the man had disregarded the Princess’s authority so casually—told her to come to him.
He had tried to persuade him with everything he could think of—promises, promotions, wealth—but the man was unmoved.
Still, he had tested the weapon.
Personally saw how powerful it was.
He knew the Princess and the upper management had to witness the power of this thing they called a “gun.”
If they did, maybe… just maybe… they could protect their city without needing to rely on anyone.
“…Okay then!”
The Princess finally said, voice steady.
“I have made my decision. I will go and meet with the leader of the survivors. Those who want to accompany me may come.”
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