Overwhelming Firepower

The play had ended, but no one said a single word. Even the actors in the play were still immersed in their respective roles.

The children waited patiently to see if the curtain would once again rise to show what would happen next.

The silence stretched for a long time. Even the adults watching were still trying to grasp what they had just seen.

Some felt their throats tighten without knowing why. Others stared at the stage, replaying certain scenes in their minds: the ruined city, the roaring barbarians, the knight who had chosen to stand beside them.

Even a few nobles waited to see if there was more to the play. They were eager to know what comes next for the former knight Xolik.

Many of the knights watching the play felt that the barbarians being portrayed acted more like knights than the knights they had seen in the play.

When the curtains rose once more, the audience was excited to see more, but was disappointed when the theater group stood in front of the stage holding hands and bowing in front of the audience.

The play had ended, and there was no more to the story of Xolik, the former knight. The realization settled slowly. This was truly the end.

The story of Xolic, the former knight, ended without showing revenge against those who wronged him. There was no showing of what happened to the kingdom after he left, nor what happened to the officials who had fled.

It simply shows the former knight saving those who once cast him out of his home. The former knight protected what he wished to protect without anyone telling him to do so.

The actions he made in the end were his own choice and no one else’s. After a few more moments of silence, the sound of someone clapping could be heard.

The actors and the audience looked in the direction of the sound and saw King Ragnor had stood up from his seat and started clapping his hands with a smile on his face.

The Queen also stood up and started clapping alongside the king. After a short pause, the princes and princesses did the same thing and started clapping.

As if that was the signal, everyone in the theater stood up from their seats and started clapping their hands.

From the stoic Duke Vardon, to all the other nobles and commoners. Everyone was clapping and cheering.

There were even a few people who had tears in their eyes; others were still in a state of excitement from the battle charge.

Even Harry Nidouhi, the director of the play, was in awe of the play he directed. In his mind, Lucen Thornehart was truly the one blessed by the Goddess of the Arts, Marda.

While everyone was clapping and cheering, Lucen stepped onto the stage. The second he stepped forward, everything suddenly stopped, and the theater once again became quiet.

Many stared at the genius with many faces in awe; there were also quite a few who glared at him with hostility.

Of course, there were those who had a stoic look on their faces, making it unreadable what they were thinking at the moment.

Lucen stood in front of the stage with that confident look on his face. He then glanced at Marquis Valeire and flashed a grin.

It was unclear, but those sitting beside Marquis Valeire thought that they heard someone grinding their teeth.

Lucen then spoke to the audience. ”Thank you for watching the play I had written. Also, I thank Harry’s theater group, who were able to recreate the story in my mind into an actual play.”

His voice was calm, clear, and carried effortlessly through the theater.

”I guess it might be obvious by now, I had written this play in response to those baseless rumors being spread about my family and me. We Thorneharts have always been loyal to the crown and to the people of Norvaegard. From the First King to the current one, we have fulfilled our duty of protecting Norvaegard and will continue to do so in the future.”

When Lucen said those words, many people from the audience lowered their heads in shame.

”I also wrote this play not to condemn people, but simply to educate. One must not believe everything they hear.” Lucen said while shaking his head.

”Rumors are easy to spread, but words carry quite a weight on them. With but simple words, one can condemn an honest man to a dire situation, like the former knight in the play. It can also show you the proper path, and open your eyes to other things, like the play I wrote.”

Lucen let his words sink in before continuing.

”I do not expect everyone here to agree with me,” he said calmly. ”Nor do I expect those who spoke ill of my family to suddenly repent.”

His gaze swept across the hall, not lingering, not accusatory, yet impossible to ignore. Marquis Valeire and his allies were clenching their fists in frustration.

”But I do hope that from this day onward, people will think before they speak. Judge before they accuse. And understand that once words leave your mouth, you cannot choose where they land.”

He paused, then added quietly,

”The former knight Xolik in the play lost his home not because of any enemy, but from the words of those he protected, those who he treated as allies.”

A faint stir passed through the audience. Lucen then showed a bright smile as he continued to speak.

”As for the Barbarians in the play, those are truly what the so-called Barbarians are like. As a Thornehart who lives in the North, I can truly say they are like that. They might have a different culture from us, but they are true warriors worthy of our respect. We must not look down on them simply because we think we are superior, which we aren’t.”

Lucen shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

”We have our flaws and so do they; we are all simply humans trying our best to survive. Well, that’s all I wanted to say. Once again, thank you and good night.” Lucen then did a graceful bow in front of the audience.

For a heartbeat, the theater remained silent. Then the sound of clapping erupted once more, stronger, louder, no longer hesitant. There were a few who clapped simply because they needed to, not because they wanted to.

People rose to their feet again, some instinctively, others with clenched fists and burning eyes. Knights struck their chests in salute. Commoners cheered without restraint. Even those who had entered the theater skeptical now found their hands moving on their own.

King Ragnor’s smile widened, truly impressed by the words Lucen had spoken.

Duke Vardon Thornehart did not clap loudly. He simply nodded once, a slow, firm motion, approval conveyed without words.

As for Lucen’s younger brother, Cael, the usual expressionless younger brother was showing varying emotions right now. From pride to excitement as he clapped his hands louder than anyone else.

Marquis Valeire remained seated. His fingers dug into the armrest, the polished wood creaking softly beneath his grip.

Around him, some of his allies avoided his gaze. Others shifted uneasily, suddenly reconsidering where they stood.

Viscount Reval was starting to feel a little afraid that he had allied himself with the wrong person, but it was not too late to change his allegiance.

The Marquis then stood up from his seat and turned to leave the theater first. After a while, most of his allies also left the theater.

The nobles who oppose the Marquis could not help but snicker at his sudden departure. Viscount Cedric Darenthal also watched as the Marquis left without a word. He was now quite impressed by the young Thornehart.

’Now I can be sure that the one making the unusual moves truly isn’t the Iron Duke, but his son Lucen...’ The Viscount couldn’t help but sigh.

’I can already sense it, and I’m sure many have also noticed it. The winds of change are being followed by the storm of chaos. War is coming, from within and from outside. There’s no stopping it now. We can only do our best to prepare for what’s to come.’

Viscount Cedric once again sighed as he could already imagine a few things that would happen next. Staying neutral at this point will do nothing but harm him and his people.

’I guess it’s obvious who I should ally with.’ Viscount Cedric looked at Lucen Thornehart on the stage. ’The one who blew the winds of change.’

***

On the other side of the stage, Lysette Crowlorne had a beautiful smile on her face as she watched Lucen bowing on stage, and Marquis Valeire and his group leaving the theater.

’A flawless victory. As to be expected of the Ever-Victorious.’

Lysette’s smile lingered even as the applause gradually faded.

Around her, nobles whispered, knights debated, and courtiers began quietly recalculating their next moves. Alliances that had once seemed stable now felt fragile, uncertain.

Once again, Lucen Thornehart had shaken the people of Norvaegard, especially the nobles, to their core.

They had already given Lucen a high evaluation, but it would seem that even then, they had underestimated his abilities.

Even after everyone had left the theater, the scene they saw would not fade from their mind. All they could talk about was Lucen Thornehart and the play he wrote, which was titled Honor beyond one’s words.

This play, despite not having many lines that could shake one’s heart like The Man of a Thousand Quests, was a play that spoke with one’s actions instead. It made one think about how even just words could kill a man.