Chapter 18 : "The King’s Silent Conquest"

Chapter 18 : "The King's Silent Conquest"

Three months had passed since the dramatic council meeting that had sent shockwaves through the capital. Within that time, Roman had systematically consolidated his power, employing a strategy both subtle and ruthless. The once-chaotic city was now firmly under his control, though the political storm continued to rage behind the scenes.

Roman stood on the balcony of his chambers, overlooking the sprawling capital below. The sun was beginning to rise, casting a golden glow over the city. His gaze was steady, calm, and filled with satisfaction. His army—his most powerful trump card—had grown significantly over these months. With the system granting him 100 soldiers daily, Roman now had a force of over 10,000 troops under his command.

Of these, 8,000 had been integrated into the capital guards. The move had been strategic, both to strengthen the city's defenses and to subtly wrest control of the guards from the nobles who had previously dominated them. This shift had effectively turned the capital's security forces into Roman's personal army, loyal only to the king.

Luke approached from behind, bowing slightly before speaking.

"My King, the final integration of our soldiers into the capital guard is complete. The nobility can no longer wield any influence over them. Your authority is absolute."

Roman turned, a faint smile on his lips.

"Excellent. With 8,000 of my soldiers stationed throughout the city, and the remaining 2,000 here in the palace, we've secured the heart of the kingdom. The opposition is powerless to make a physical move against us."

Luke nodded, his admiration for the king growing with each passing day.

"Not only that, my King. With three 2-star Aura Swordsmen and fifteen 1-star Swordsmen under your command, even an army led by the nobility would think twice before challenging us."

Roman's expression hardened, his voice calm but resolute.

"They know this. That's why they've shifted their focus entirely to political maneuvers. But even there, their influence is waning. With the guards firmly under my control, their threats carry no weight."

---

Meanwhile, in the grand estate of Prime Minister Veranthor, the mood was anything but celebratory. The once-dominant figure in the council now found himself cornered, his every move countered by the king's growing power. The Prime Minister sat in his study, surrounded by Duke Marcius and Marquess Torran, both of whom shared his frustration.

"This is a disaster," Veranthor muttered, his face pale. "We underestimated him. That boy has turned the entire capital against us without even lifting a sword."

Marquess Torran leaned back in his chair, his expression dark.

"The capital guard was our last stronghold. Now, it's nothing more than a puppet of the king. Every order they receive comes directly from him. We can't even enforce our will in the city anymore."

Duke Marcius slammed his fist onto the table, his frustration boiling over.

"We should've acted sooner. We let him grow unchecked, and now he's become untouchable. Do you realize what this means? We can't move against him physically, and even in the council, his faction grows stronger by the day."

Veranthor glared at the duke, his voice sharp.

"Do you think I don't know that? The problem isn't just his strength. It's his strategy. He's outmaneuvered us at every turn, using the council's rules and laws against us. And now, the people in the capital view him as a savior—a just king who's brought order to chaos."

The marquess frowned, his tone bitter.

"So what do we do now? If we can't use force, we'll have to turn the council against him. But even that's becoming impossible. Every time we try to rally the neutral members, he counters with promises and reforms that win them over to his side."

Veranthor rubbed his temples, a wave of exhaustion washing over him.

"We need to change our approach. If we can't attack him directly, we'll have to tarnish his reputation. Spread rumors, fabricate scandals—anything to make the people question his rule."

Duke Marcius snorted, his skepticism evident.

"Do you really think that'll work? The man survived an assassination attempt and turned it into a rallying cry for his leadership. He thrives under pressure. If we're not careful, we'll end up strengthening his position even further."

The Prime Minister's eyes narrowed, a flicker of desperation in his gaze.

"Then we'll have to be smarter. Subtle. He's been playing this game better than us, but even he can't foresee everything. We just need to find his weakness."

---

Back in the palace, Roman was deep in discussion with his advisors. The atmosphere in the war room was one of quiet confidence. The map of the kingdom lay spread out before them, marking key positions and areas of influence.

Luke glanced at the map, then turned to Roman.

"My King, the opposition is growing desperate. They've lost their grip on the capital, and their influence in the council is waning. But that makes them dangerous. Cornered animals are unpredictable."

Roman nodded, his expression thoughtful.

"True. But desperation also leads to mistakes. Veranthor and his allies have already begun to lose their composure. Their infighting will only grow worse as their power diminishes. We'll let them weaken themselves further before delivering the final blow."

One of the advisors spoke up, his tone cautious.

"My King, while the opposition's power has been reduced, we must remain vigilant. Their ability to spread rumors and manipulate public opinion shouldn't be underestimated."

Roman's eyes gleamed with determination.

"I'm well aware. That's why I've already taken steps to counter their propaganda. The Ministry of Information is working tirelessly to ensure the people see the truth—that their king is a leader who acts in their best interest."

Luke couldn't help but smile, admiration evident in his voice.

"You've thought of everything, my King. The capital is firmly under your control, the council is leaning in your favor, and the people view you as a symbol of hope. The opposition stands no chance."

Roman's expression softened, but his resolve remained unshaken.

"Victory isn't just about strength, Luke. It's about strategy, patience, and understanding your enemies. Veranthor and his allies may still have tricks up their sleeves, but we'll be ready for them."

---

As the sun set over the capital, the city buzzed with activity. The people, unaware of the political games being played behind closed doors, carried on with their lives, grateful for the newfound sense of order and security.

In his chambers, Roman stood by the window, gazing out at the city he had worked so hard to protect. The road ahead was still fraught with challenges, but for the first time since ascending the throne, he felt a sense of stability.

The capital was his. The opposition was in disarray. And though the storm still raged, Roman knew he had the strength and the will to weather it.

With a faint smile, he turned away from the window, ready to face whatever came next.