Ascension from Dual Professions

Chapter 175: Chapter 171: Seek Peace Through Struggle, and Peace Will Endure

Faced with Jon’s question, Yed mulled it over for a moment before letting out a soft sigh.

"I’m afraid this turmoil will last for a very long time."

"Oh? And why is that?"

Jon took a sip of the fine wine in his glass, asking with a casual air.

"The Empire’s military is strong. A local rebellion should be put down quickly."

"Its military might is undeniable, but that’s not the whole equation."

Yed Xavier, the president of the Heta County Noble Union Chamber of Commerce—a man who, historically, had been assassinated—was clearly very knowledgeable about the nation’s political system and its internal factions.

He explained in a low voice, his eyes sweeping over the various nobles in the banquet hall and their mannerisms.

"The Empire’s four active legions all have the backing of several Dukes, and internal discord has always been an issue. The Elite Knight Orders directly under the Royal Family are also divided among the most powerful princes and princesses."

"Unless His Majesty Hain personally gives the order or Count Heta requests aid, none of them will risk offending the Heta family by coming to Heta County and meddling in ’internal local affairs.’"

At this point, he looked back at Jon, his voice dropping even lower.

"But His Majesty Hain has all but entered the twilight of his political career. For three years now, he has seldom concerned himself with state affairs, leaving them to his children and the Noble Council. And as for Count Heta... his role in this current turmoil remains to be seen."

"So, in this crisis, I’m afraid we can only rely on our own Power."

Yed’s analysis was simple and easy to understand, clearly taking into account the possibility that Jon, as an Adventurer, might not have a deep grasp of the political situation.

What he could never have guessed, however, was that Jon actually knew far more. Unlike Yed, whose perspective was limited by his position within the Imperial aristocracy, Jon had a much wider view of things.

For example, he knew that Count Heta had long intended to rebel and had deliberately let this chaos unfold. He also knew that the emperor wasn’t just at the end of his political career—his very life was about to end, and the worst was yet to come.

But Yed was right about one thing.

Now that things had come to this, they couldn’t expect any outside forces to intervene.

Only by uniting local resources and manpower could they hope to match the so-called "rebels." Any attempt to simply hole up and survive was suicide.

"So it all comes down to a fight."

Jon set down his glass and looked out the window, a hint of resignation in his voice.

"To seek peace through struggle is to preserve it."

"To seek peace through struggle is to preserve it..."

Yed repeated Jon’s words, stunned. He found the phrase profoundly philosophical, applicable not only to the current situation in Birch Town but to many other matters as well.

’But it feels like something is missing.’

So he couldn’t help but press,

"Mr. Jon, is there more to that saying?"

"Of course."

The outlander, matured by his brushes with death, met Yed’s eyes and spoke.

"To seek peace through compromise is to lose it."

...

A short while later, all the guests had arrived, and the banquet officially began.

And Paris Manola, as the lord of Birch Town and the host of the banquet, was naturally expected to say a few words before everything began.

"Everyone—if I may have a word!"

He stood in the center of the banquet hall, raising his glass high. His powerful voice drew everyone’s attention.

"I am sure you all know how difficult it was to secure this moment of peace and warmth we now enjoy, to be able to stand here in this hall and raise our glasses!"

"Heta County, our home, is being torn apart! Beyond Birch Town, in Snow Pigeon Territory, Mude Territory... war is everywhere! Those rebels who call themselves ’Liberators’—they fly the banner of independence, but what vile business are they truly engaged in?!"

Paris scanned the room, his gaze passing over faces both familiar and strange, all of them etched with worry and unease.

"They burn towns and villages, plunder Trade Teams, and drive innocent commoners from the lands their families have lived on for generations, leaving them to shiver in the cold wind!"

"They trample upon the honor and dignity of the nobility, slaughtering those who refuse to yield, and even turn their blades on women and children!"

The melodious music in the hall had long since fallen silent. All that remained was the soft crackle of burning candles and his voice, steady yet filled with indignant grief, echoing through the room.

"How are these actions any different from the vilest jackals in the wilderness?! Their so-called ’independence’ is nothing but tyranny and plunder wrapped in the guise of a noble cause!"

"These warmongers are not building a new order; they are destroying all order, trying to drag us into an abyss of chaos and death!"

Paris’s words struck like a hammer, landing heavily on the hearts of every noble who had either experienced or heard of the rebels’ atrocities. Many clenched their fists, their faces a mask of mingled grief, indignation, and fear.

The eyes of the nobles who had fled from fallen territories grew red, their bodies trembling slightly as painful memories were clearly stirred to the surface.

"And my own lands, here in Birch Town, have also suffered repeated attacks—"

"I was deceived by a traitor and trapped within an evil blizzard ritual by the Eternal Frost Sect. While I was gone, these warmongers took the opportunity to launch repeated attacks on Birch Town."

As he said this, Paris’s gaze swept over to the sisters Xia and Xina, and to Jon, in a corner of the hall. His tone carried a hint of relief and gratitude.

"Fortunately, thanks to the radiant protection of the Sun God Poao, and relying on the valor of you brave defenders, Birch Town has managed to weather this storm for now."

"But this temporary peace is no reason for us to simply hole up and protect ourselves!"

He slammed his glass down, braced his hands on the edge of the long table before him, and leaned forward, his voice rising sharply.

"My friends! A wolf does not halt its attack because the lamb is gentle! Compromise and retreat will only make them bolder!"

"Look at the refugees flooding into Birch Town! Look at the despair in their eyes! Listen to the cries of those who have lost their homes and their families!"

"Are we to stand by and watch these tragedies unfold before our very eyes? To watch our lands be ravaged by thugs? To watch our people be cut down like grass?!"

"Never!"

Paris roared, his voice booming like thunder.

"To defend the honor and dignity of our nobility! For peace and order!"

"We must rise! We must fight!"

His emotions were running high, his voice hoarse from the strain, but his resolve was infectious, stirring many in the room.

Some of the Knights and young nobles, veterans of war, straightened their backs, the fire of battle igniting in their eyes.

Paris took a deep breath. His gaze settled on Jon and Yed, as if seeking some form of silent support. Then, clearly and deliberately, he quoted the maxim he had just heard from Yed.

"A gentleman here spoke a profound truth just moments ago, and I wish to share it with you all—"

"To seek peace through struggle is to preserve it! To seek peace through compromise is to lose it!"

The words were a spark tossed into boiling oil, instantly igniting the room’s pent-up emotions!

"Well said!"

An old Knight with a white beard, clad in sword-scarred armor, slammed a fist on the table and shot to his feet, his voice ringing with passion.

"Lord Paris! I, Simeon Hoffman, representing the remnants of the Hoffman family, pledge to follow you!"

"Help us reclaim Snow Pigeon Territory! Help me avenge my murdered son and my burned home!"

"And I!"

Another middle-aged noble in fine robes also rose, his voice choked with emotion.

"The Green family of Mude Territory will commit all the guards and men we can muster! We ask only for the chance to fight back and drive those animals from our lands!"

"Count Black Stone Town in!"

"And Tulip Manor!"

...

It was like a chain reaction. One after another, nobles and their representatives—all of whom had personally suffered the rebels’ persecution and fled from the fallen territories—rose to their feet in support.

Some were angry, some were grief-stricken, some were filled with a thirst for revenge, but their goal was one and the same: fight back! Reclaim their homes!

This surging tide also swept up the lesser nobles, those who had been forced to flee by the circumstances but had not yet suffered such devastating personal losses.

They exchanged uncertain glances, their faces still showing hesitation and fear. But Paris’s resounding words, that maxim filled with power and wisdom, and the impassioned crowd before them made them realize that in this chaotic flood, small families like theirs were adrift like rootless duckweed. To avoid being swallowed whole, their only chance at survival was to attach themselves to a powerful center, to unite and fight with all their might.

"We... we will follow Lord Paris’s command."

A small, slender baron spoke in a low voice. It wasn’t loud, but it represented the feelings of a great many of those who had remained silent.

While they didn’t declare their support as fiercely as the nobles who had lost their lands, no one stood up to object.

For a moment, the hall was filled with an atmosphere of common cause against a shared enemy, a readiness to fight with their backs against the wall.

A consensus to unite their forces and strike back seemed to have formed naturally.

Paris watched the scene unfold, a surge of warmth filling his chest.

He saw the flames of vengeance, the will to survive, and a hope that was beginning to coalesce once more.

He opened his arms, ready to issue one final call to action, to transform this initial consensus into a concrete plan.

However, just at this critical moment, as their unity was forged and the atmosphere reached its zenith—

"Lord Paris, esteemed gentlemen, forgive my impertinence, but might I be permitted to offer a different point of view?"