Chương 275: 275：The Royal Capital's Venomous Calculus

Combat Medic Elena didn't even bother brushing the snow from her moon-white priestly robes before she eagerly strode into the tent. Normally, as a High Priestess of the Church of the Bright Moon, Elena was renowned for her grace and unshakeable composure. But right now, her pale cheeks were flushed with excitement, her breathing was rapid, and she tightly clutched several beautifully printed gazettes in her hands.

In the center of the large tent, Commander Leona of the Crimson Moon Knights sat cross-legged on a wide wooden cot draped in a thick, soft bear pelt. This fiercely beautiful, untamed woman—boasting a mane of radiant crimson hair and striking red eyes—was the picture of contentment. She casually held a flask of strong ale in one hand while tearing a massive bite out of a perfectly roasted chunk of monster meat with the other. Hearing Elena's slightly cracking voice, Leona paused.

Casually wiping the ale from the corner of her mouth, she raised an energetic eyebrow:"Elena, what on earth has our strictly-by-the-book priestess so worked up? Don't tell me those stingy bastards in the Royal Capital finally grew a conscience and sent us our military pay and winter gear?"

"This is a hundred times more exciting than military pay!" Elena quickly walked over to the cot, slapping the gazettes down onto Leona's low table and pointing directly at the bold black headlines.

"It's Soren! Soren's name is echoing across the heavens!" Elena's voice trembled with sheer exhilaration:"An exclusive interview by the battlefield scholar Lucia has been published simultaneously in the capitals of over thirty nations across the continent!"

"Soren's monumental triumph—annihilating two thousand elite Orcs and slaying Young Master Mogg along with an Oracle—is now known to the entirety of Eresia!"

"What?!" Leona violently tossed the roasted meat aside, her red eyes bulging wide. She snatched up the gazettes, bringing them inches from her face to scrutinize them. However, as a rugged, grassroots general who had grown up in the bloody trenches and carved her path to Commander purely through military merit, Leona was practically illiterate. Staring at the dense, winding, overly ornate aristocratic cursive, she irritably scratched at her wild red hair.

"Ugh! You know damn well I can't read this twisting noble gibberish!" Leona shoved the gazettes back into Elena's hands, urging her impatiently:"Stop keeping me in suspense! Read it to me, word for word! What earth-shattering miracle did that kid Soren pull off?!" Elena covered her mouth and giggled. Clearing her throat, she used the dim candlelight and her clear, melodious voice to slowly recount the contents of the exclusive interview.

From Soren concealing his tracks, to the lethal efficiency of his three-man tactical cells. From the decapitation of Mogg, to the implementation of the lifelong pension system for crippled veterans that was currently shaking the continent. Elena read with highly charged emotion, her voice rising and falling, her eyes occasionally growing red with tears. Leona listened in absolute silence. At first, the veins on the back of the hand gripping her ale flask bulged.

But when she heard that Soren's prestige had shaken the world, she could no longer contain the surging thrill in her chest.

"Hahahahaha!" Leona erupted into a booming, hearty roar of laughter. The sheer volume of her laughter shook the snow from the tent's roof, causing even the patrolling guards outside to pause and share knowing smiles.

"That's my boy! I knew my eyes didn't deceive me!" Leona shot to her feet, tipping her flask back and taking a massive gulp of strong ale, letting the amber liquid spill freely down her pale, slender neck in a display of absolute, untamed bravado. Her eyes swimming with unparalleled pride, Leona planted one boot heavily on the cot and violently pumped her fist into the air:"A battle like this... even if you gave those decrepit old fossils in the Royal High Command thirty thousand men, they could never pull it off!"

"Glorious! Absolutely fucking glorious!" Leona laughed, showering him with praise: "Soren is truly the undisputed, number one vanguard of my Crimson Moon Knights!" Amidst Leona's unbridled, infectious laughter, the entire Crimson Moon main camp felt as though it had been bathed in an invisible halo of glory. Morale reached an absolute, unprecedented zenith. Yet, amidst this jubilant, triumphant atmosphere, they remained completely oblivious.

The exact coordinates of the Crimson Moon Knights' defensive lines had already been completely sold out to the Orc Alliance by the traitor, Zim. But for now, inside this tent, overwhelming joy was the only emotion that mattered. Waiting for Leona to finish laughing, Elena turned to the next page of the gazette, her eyes shining with profound emotion.

"Commander, there is something even more worthy of respect in this report." Elena pointed to a specific paragraph, reading softly:"Faced with the continent's adoration, Soren did not claim the glory for himself." The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"He mentioned several times in the interview that this victory was impossible without the Crimson Moon Knights' main camp acting as a deterrent and pinning down enemy forces on the flank. He directly praised you, Commander Leona, calling you the frontline pillar of the Misty Swamp, stating that you directly participated in the battle to slay the Oracle and Mogg."

Elena continued:"Not only that, but he also included the veteran General Galahad of Ironwood Fortress, and General Gabriel with his lightning-element swordsmanship, entirely sharing the credit." Hearing this, the booming laughter on Leona's face gradually faded. In her fierce, stubbornly untamed red eyes, a complex wave of warmth and deep emotion surged.

As a veteran who had fought her way up from the bloody mud of the military camps, Leona understood the unspoken, cutthroat rules of the warlords in this cold-steel era all too well. In the Silvermoon Kingdom, noble generals routinely backstabbed and ostracized one another over the most trivial scraps of military merit. They fabricated battle reports and even deliberately delayed reinforcements, coldly watching allied forces get slaughtered just to make their own resumes look better. But Soren?

This was the monumental, world-shaking merit of entirely annihilating two thousand elites! An honor more than sufficient to grant him a high noble title, yet he willingly took it out and generously shared it with the Crimson Moon Knights and Ironwood Fortress! Leona mused inwardly:"Soren, oh Soren... You could have easily attributed all the glory entirely to Greywater Village, and no one could have found a single fault with it. Yet, you explicitly forced Lucia's pen to include my name..."

"You are using your own colossal prestige to forcibly elevate the status of the Crimson Moon Knights in front of the entire continent! You are handing us the ultimate political bargaining chip against the Royal High Command!"

"That bastard... he's far too decent of a man." Leona's eyes grew slightly hot, her tone exceptionally resolute.

"He rewards merit, he shares the meat, and he never abandons a brother. A warrior like that is the only kind of man I, Leona, would ever trust with my back!" Seeing her Commander display such raw emotion, Elena couldn't help but smile.

"Commander, Soren hasn't just won prestige among the military. Even the gods have bestowed their approval upon him." Elena crossed her hands over her chest, making the standard prayer gesture of the Church of the Bright Moon. Her expression was both solemn and incredibly proud:"Early this morning, an urgent eagle message arrived from the Royal Capital's Grand Temple.

The current Pope of our Silvermoon Kingdom's state religion, the Church of the Bright Moon, personally issued a divine decree at the Holy Altar after reading this article."

"His Holiness praised Soren's pension system, declaring that it shines with the absolute, purest light of the Moon Goddess's mercy."

"The Pope even publicly proclaimed that Soren is a true gift from the gods to humanity!" Elena's voice brimmed with the exhilarating vindication of a massive slap to her haters' faces:"Back then, when I vouched for Greywater Village, I staked my absolute faith as a Priestess over the capital's communication array. Do you know how many Cardinals secretly mocked me? They said I had been conned by some brutish border warlord."

"But now? With the Pope's personal endorsement, every single one of those arrogant, mocking nobles has been viciously slapped across the face!" Hearing that even the supreme, untouchable Pope had descended to shower Soren with praise, Leona was overjoyed. But gradually, her razor-sharp intuition caught onto something deeply wrong.

Leona walked over to the low table, planting both hands on the wood as her brow furrowed:"Elena, if Soren has even shaken the Pope, then those decrepit fossils in the Royal High Command must have offered some substantial, tangible reward by now, right?"

"At the very least, a Baron's title? Or maybe a few dozen crates of refined steel armaments and winter rations?" Leona asked, her eyes full of expectation. Hearing this question, the radiant smile on Elena's face slowly drained away, replaced by a profound, agonizing sorrow and helplessness. She sighed heavily, walking over to the fireplace. Staring into the dancing flames, her tone grew incredibly grim:"Commander, you give the hearts of the Royal Capital's supreme echelons far too much credit."

Elena turned around, clinically dissecting the harsh political reality:"Currently, regarding Soren's monumental achievements, aside from the verbal commendations sent by His Imperial Majesty of the Holy Halycon Empire via Grand Duke Valentine... His Royal Highness the Prince Regent and Duke Fernando have not issued a single tangible crate of supplies or coin of reward."

"And the most laughable part is regarding Soren's military rank..."

"The High Command has maintained their original ruling. As of right now, his highest official titles remain the Vice-Commander of your Crimson Moon Knights, and that entirely powerless, empty rank of Deputy Border Commander!"