Chapter 10: What’s the Value of Your Loyalty?

Confronted with Yang Hao’s question, Priscilla found herself at a loss for words.

She stood there, her collar gripped in his hand, accepting Yang Hao’s fierce scolding. She was devoid of the capacity to think and lacked any excuse to counter Yang Hao’s words because, just as he said, she couldn’t even dare to meet his eyes while speaking for the people.

The Roman Empire was akin to mud crudely plastered on a wall. He had guided them toward civilization, but they clearly did not welcome it.

The Roman people’s ignorance and ingratitude had even caused a stir in the neighboring Elven Kingdom. The most traditional elves had issued a semi-public condemnation against the Roman Empire just two months prior, not to mention other nations with even a slight understanding of the Roman Empire’s situation.

It was rumored that in Isugard, the empire across the sea to which scholars had fled, even beggars on the streets scorned the actions of the Roman Empire.

Faced with these irrefutable facts, anyone from the Roman Empire was incapable of offering any sort of rebuttal, except for that one nun.

Yes, only that nun.

Sister Teresa herself was not a citizen of the Roman Empire anymore.

After the Silent incident, she directly approached the local population management office to relinquish her Roman citizenship. Her monastery also was located outside the empire’s borders.

She was the only one apart from Yang Hao who had the right to defend herself. Her sole grievance against Yang Hao had been a bitter remark she uttered before leaving the village years ago, “You advocate for a bunch of shameless barbarians. One day, you’ll come crawling back, only to find these barbarians still shunning you.”

She stood out from the crowd from the very beginning. Back when the Roman Empire was merely a cluster of tribes, her unusual white hair and gray eyes subjected her to discrimination from an early age, not to mention her adherence to original doctrines.

Perhaps Sister Teresa had recognized the inherent greed and shamelessness of the tribal people of this land since her childhood.

Priscilla opened her mouth to speak but ultimately remained silent.

Yang Hao, too, had nothing more to say.

Pushing Priscilla roughly toward the line of kneeling empire knights, causing her to stagger and collapse onto the muddy ground, Yang Hao looked down, his face void of expression, at his former subordinates and knights.

“So… why are you still here? Is there anything else you want to say?”

The knights, each of them, lowered their heads, too ashamed to meet Yang Hao’s eyes. Although they were not part of the military faction that had been bought off with gold coins back then, they too had once received bags brimming with gold coins in their homes.

In today’s Roman Empire, loyalty was a commodity measured with money.

With enough gold, betraying a righteous monarch who had helped one rise to power could be seen as a justifiable act.

This was where Regent Yang Hao met his downfall. He had invested heavily in building his own army, winning over the soldiers with the highest wages he could afford. However, he hadn’t foreseen that the nobles and the church, skilled in extracting wealth from the people, would outstrip him in riches.

While Yang Hao personally handed out a monthly salary of five gold coins to each soldier, the church obliterated the soldiers’ loyalty with an immense sum of 800 gold coins per person. And that was just the beginning.

The archbishop had more than enough money to afford a monthly salary of 800 gold coins, but Yang Hao and the Roman imperial family were not so well-endowed. They had to spend heavily on national development and reduce taxes to support the livelihood of the people.

The resulting consequences are well-known, so there was no need for elaboration.

Yang Hao could offer the national soldiers a vision of a prosperous future in ten or twenty years, but the bishop’s consistent hefty monthly payments of 800 gold coins for two decades clearly held more sway than Yang Hao’s promised future.

Under the heavy burden of gold, ideals and honor crumbled, and loyalty shifted from one master to another.

Indeed, as feared by the empress’s uncle and General Dreycar, the national soldiers were untrustworthy. If they could be bought once by a prodigal bishop, they could undoubtedly be bought a second time.

Thus, they were disbanded. The following day, they became the archbishop’s Holy Guard, became private soldiers for the nobles and landlords, or at worst, joined the elite ranks of warlords or became mercenaries sailing overseas.

The knights present here had not been disbanded, but the actions and silence of their comrades back then left them with no choice but to kneel in silence before Yang Hao.

After a long silence, Knight Robert spoke on behalf of his men, “Your Majesty, I–”

“Don’t call me Your Majesty. I am no longer the regent, nor will I ever again be the regent of the Roman Empire.”

Yang Hao dismissed the title with a wave of his hand, showing physical revulsion when he mentioned Roman Empire. 

“Speak your piece, air your grievances, and then get as far away from me as you can,” he added.

“But Your Majesty… if you don’t return, the Roman Empire is at risk of collapsing under internal and external threats.”

“Good riddance.”

Yang Hao’s response left the witch and knights frozen in shock. They had never fathomed that the regent’s disdain for the empire had escalated to such an extent.

The regent’s focus had shifted from the entire nation to just his own small corner of the world, yet at this critical juncture, the Roman Empire needed his watchful eye more than ever.

Therefore, after a prolonged silence, Knight Robert chose to use his final opportunity to implore.

“Your Majesty, the Imperial Council has conceded,” Knight Robert, still kneeling on the ground, spoke with sincerity, “The royal family is ready to vindicate you, and the nobles and landlords are prepared to compromise on your behalf. Even the bishop and General Dreycar have acknowledged your accomplishments. They are willing to make significant concessions for your return. Moreover, Your Majesty, the Empress herself needs your guidance. The persecuted scholars and the doctors of the Red Cross are also hoping for your leadership to guide them back to the right path. Without your return, the entire Roman Empire risks to fragment once again in the wake of this catastrophe, reverting to the chaotic time of fighting each other. Not only will the northern Elven Kingdom take advantage of this, but also the nations across the sea will launch a new wave of wars against us. Then, it won’t just be the nation crumbling, but all living beings on this land will face untold hardships. Even the barbarians pushed to the north might see a chance to move southward again. For the sake of this land, I earnestly beg you to return like lightning.”

Knight Robert was perhaps one of the few knights in the Empire with deep foresight. Having served at Yang Hao’s side for an extended period, he had learned to look ahead and, to some degree, had come to understand how to ‘predict’ the future based on the present state of the nation.

Envisioning the bleak, ashen future of the Roman Empire, he was determined to bring Yang Hao back, whatever the cost.

It appeared that a particular word in Knight Robert’s fervently articulated speech had stirred a memory in the regent.

Yang Hao let out a deep sigh, murmuring to himself, “Barbarians? Barbarians… Ah, weren’t you once barbarians too? The only difference between you and them now is just the language. I never imagined you’d come to a point where even barbarians would be a concern. Ha…”

Approaching Knight Robert, axe in hand, Yang Hao spoke, “Interests? Sentiments? Knight Robert, I don’t want to be disrespectful. Promises from a pile of dung no longer sway me. As for sentiments? Do you think they haven’t already owed me enough? I’ve given up hope of you repaying your debts to me, but who would’ve thought you’d push me to this point of having no debts at all?”

“Your Majesty…”

“Knight Robert. Once, I took an axe blow from a barbarian for you. I still remember your vow.”

With those words, facing Knight Robert, who knelt on the ground offering his weapon, Yang Hao abruptly raised the rusty axe in his hand.

“But now, I no longer need it. I don’t need your loyalty or your gratitude. We owe nothing to each other.”

With a heavy thud—

Accompanied by the dull sound of armor splitting.

Yang Hao, channeling all his strength, swung the axe into Knight Robert’s chest. The rusty blade tore through the durable imperial armor, sliced the chain mail beneath, ripped through the flesh and skin, and finally shattered the bones within.

Once, Yang Hao had used his left hand to shield Knight Robert from a barbarian’s lethal strike. Now, Yang Hao returned every bit of that intervention back to him.

They were now square, free of any lingering debts of life-saving grace or ties of master and servant.

Yang Hao’s decision to sever all connections with the Roman Empire mirrored his complete disillusionment with it and his deep disappointment in those who had once stood under his command.

Watching Knight Robert convulsing on the ground from the unexpected, devastating blow, and then glancing at the knights stunned into inaction, and the witch, whose eyes were wide with disbelief, he simply held his axe, panting while looking up at the sky that was darkening with dusk.

“The doctors said that if I hadn’t intercepted that axe, Knight Robert would not have survived ten minutes to receive medical aid, likely dying on the battlefield. That’s why he pledged his loyalty to me. Now, a blow from a former regent, hardly a warrior by any means, I suppose would cause grave injury, but there would still be about half an hour for treatment. What will you do? Will you stand by and watch your comrade die before you, or hurry to save him and leave this place? Priscilla, you are a witch, have you forgotten how to chant your teleportation spells?”

Yang Hao’s gaze fell upon the witch, who, after one final, deep look at him, bit her lip and hurried to the side of the critically injured Knight Robert. She knelt beside him and began to chant the incantation for the teleportation spell.

Taking a couple of steps back, Yang Hao watched as the blue light of the teleportation spell enveloped each imperial knight, eventually whisking them away.

He sighed deeply.

For the moment, he had secured some time to make his exit.

Turning back, he gave the nun, who had been silently observing him all this while, a final embrace of farewell.

He was sincerely thankful for Teresa’s help during these times. Yet, to keep her from being involved in the fallout, it was time for him to leave. It was time to continue his journey, drifting further away from the Roman Empire.