Chapter 300: William III

"What did you say? Marienburg has declared independence? How dare they? And how dare he?" Inside the Elector Count's palace in Altdorf, William III listened to the messenger's report with a face full of shock.

To be honest, he was not surprised that his foolish cousin dared to grant autonomy to the Empire's wealthiest economic hub in exchange for a massive bribe. After all, during the days when Dieter abandoned the city and stayed as a guest in Altdorf, William had thoroughly grasped his character.

"But those great merchant princes shouldn't have, unless... Convene the Reik Council!" The Elector Count's greyish beard twitched; he had already passed his impulsive youth, and as a qualified lord, William knew how to utilize the wisdom of his subordinates.

Reikland is neither large nor small. The knights galloped, but it was three days later before the ten high-ranking councilors gathered in Altdorf; in those three days, all sorts of news had spread throughout the entire Empire of Man.

"Gentlemen, the most reliable source is that Marienburg has received security guarantees from the Dwarfs and those bootlickers across the mountains. Chalun claims that protecting any human from the looting of the Northmen is in accordance with the spirit of the Knightly Vow." William III said, sitting at the head of the long table.

"Those fellows who have lost all their virtues also frequently play the role of saints on earth, making people laugh their heads off! Such behavior of theirs is like lifting a rock only to drop it on their own feet!"

"They are incapable themselves yet still go to bite others; this will only let the world see the hypocritical face of Bretonnia and recognize the double-standard nature of the Lady of the Lake."

"It is understandable for the Bretonnians to intervene, but why must the Dwarfs stick their oars in? What benefit does Marienburg's independence have for them?"

The councilors engaged in a heated discussion; they failed to immediately link Snorri's actions to the battle from seven years ago. For a short-lived race like humans, seven years is enough for a new city to rise from ruins, and enough for a child to grow into a qualified warrior.

"King of the Southlands Snorri Thorsson, the youngest son of High King Thorgrim. He must be the one operating behind this." William's secretary distributed Snorri's intelligence to the councilors.

"Five or six years ago, he passed through my territory and crushed a Skaven force at Helmgart, and also earned the nickname Storm Hammer." William looked at the old man with the wide-brimmed hat in the fourth seat on the right.

"Meng-ke, it is rare for those eagle eyes of yours to be mistaken! Who would have known, it has only been a few years, and a Dwarf Prince who once escorted caravans now possesses the power to stir the entire world."

"Indeed, my liege." The retired Witch Hunter had aged significantly; the injuries and illnesses left over from his youth had tormented him to the point of emaciation.

"When the news first arrived, I didn't even dare to think it was the same person. Now, thanks to him, Helmgart has gained a tourist attraction, and his compatriots have erected a statue of him. But the bad part is that there have already been three incidents of flying hammers injuring people this year," Sir Meng-ke muttered.

"The Dwarfs of Weifengbao seem to be mobilizing; is there any news from Fearless Fort?" William continued to ask.

"They are mobilizing as well. I heard from a drinking buddy that the lord of Fearless Fort, Sawake, might personally lead the campaign; that Snorri is hailed as the savior of Fearless Fort. There is also unusual movement at Huangwu Bao at the end of the Grey Mountains. The Dwarf mountain fortresses usually act independently; such coordination is too rare."

"The Dwarfs in the various urban residential areas should also have ideas. On my way here, I saw several blacksmith shops and inns that had closed down."

"By this count, he might be able to muster over two thousand Dwarfs, plus Bretonnia..."

After a brief exchange of intelligence, the Reik councilors confirmed that the foreign aid Marienburg had secured was sufficient to protect itself after independence. Only after clarifying this did the human leadership begin to discuss countermeasures.

"We cannot sit idly by and watch Marienburg become independent; I believe the other Elector Counts feel the same as I do." William III stated his view directly. His words were met with a chorus of agreement, but the councilors discussed for a long time without coming up with a solution.

"My lord, we cannot stop it! Not to mention whether Marienburg's foreign aid will fight us, and not to mention whether our brothers can win. We have no reason to send troops; Dieter IV is the Emperor, and Marienburg's independence is his decree!"

The Reik Marshal was pushed forward; he was a loyal and rigid old soldier. The words that spilled from his mouth were as sharp as the sword at his waist.

"Hmph!"

William III sat back down; the Marshal's words hit the nail on the head. As the Elector Count of Reikland, he did not even have the standing to intervene. Let alone William, even the Elector Count of Nordland could not directly interfere with Marienburg.

During the Great Holy War, several great merchant princes had an audience with Emperor Magnus and, by providing huge military funds, obtained the authorization for the City Council to manage Marienburg.

"Dieter, Emperor, decree." William muttered through gritted teeth, his Little Beard twitching. "You hit the nail on the head, Howard! Perhaps this is the turning point."

"Dismissed, I need to consider this!"

As the courtiers left one by one, William felt anger and ambition burning in his chest. Where did they come from? His cousin's reckless and perverse actions? The prosperity of the territory brought by the diligent governance of recent generations of lords? Or the extraordinary power of those mages from the Colleges of Magic?

"The eastern barbarians of Stirland have held the throne for three full generations. It is time for Reikland to produce another human Emperor, my little William."

A voice startled the Elector Count. He found the speaker with an icy gaze; it was an old man with white hair and beard, Heisenberg, the presiding minister of the Reik Council, a veteran who had served in the council since his father's time.

"What is your opinion?"

"Your father often said that to lead an ox, one must lead it by the nose. You should first see the whole ox clearly, then find where its nose is." The old man gave his advice slowly.

"I need intelligence, of every kind, at any cost!" William's voice echoed throughout the entire council chamber.

"Truly a thunderous method! Your Storm Hammer is well-deserved, and your wrist is as fast and ruthless as a hammer!"

In the Clan's training ground, Snorri pulled his eldest brother Panom up from the ground. He had returned early from Mountain Lake Fortress to reunite with him. The brothers, who had not seen each other for a long time, chatted for a while, and in the end, Panom still couldn't resist wanting to test Snorri's current strength.

"I think it's better to say that your wife has taken up too much of your energy." Snorri smirked.

"Heh, sounds like you have ideas. But I must say it was official business, official business!" Panom patted his backside. He looked at his younger brother; from this candidate for the greatest warrior of the Qunshan who had slain a Demigod, he could still vaguely see the shadow of that little tag-along from back then.

"By the way, your eldest niece doesn't have a name yet; Pamila and I both hope you will name her!"