Chapter 5: The Old King
Although Su Xiao didn’t know where the Kingdom Council Hall was, he quickly thought of a solution. In fact, finding it was simple, requiring only three steps.
Step one: Find a guard.
Step two: Stare at him for ten seconds.
Step three: Say in a calm tone, “Come with me to the Kingdom Council Hall.”
Along the way, the uneasy guard began to doubt his life, his mind racing with chaotic thoughts, utterly disoriented.
By following the unintentional direction the guard behind him was heading, Su Xiao soon located the Kingdom Council Hall.
The doors of the Kingdom Council Hall were tightly shut. All major decisions within the kingdom were made here, though it wasn’t used frequently—officials didn’t need to come to the palace daily unless summoned by the king for a unified gathering.
Su Xiao pushed open the doors of the Kingdom Council Hall. Inside, it was silent. Rows of seats surrounded the room, and at the head was a tall metal throne, forged from a massive meteorite that had fallen from the sky, pitch-black in color.
A figure sat on the throne. He wore loose, gold-and-red robes and a crown of iron on his head—a crown that had been passed down for over a thousand years, originating from the first king, Iron Crown King Adelaide Herbert.
Seated on the throne was the old king, Bai Herbert, now sixty-five years old. His hair and beard were completely white, yet thanks to the nourishment of various precious secret medicines, his skin was smooth and his complexion ruddy. Still, he exuded an air of profound age.
“Iron Hand, step forward.”
The old king slowly raised his arm, signaling Su Xiao to approach. Su Xiao wasn’t sure what to say yet, so he chose silence—the best disguise.
Su Xiao walked forward slowly. The old king looked at him, and the expression in his eyes… was envy.
“You have a young body and formidable strength. If I were you, I’d have a whole harem of women and be busy until the middle of the night every day.”
The old king chuckled. Su Xiao stood five meters in front of him, his face calm and utterly silent.
The old king wasn’t angered by Su Xiao’s silence. On the contrary, he was used to it.
“The thing I regret most is seizing the power of the king. When I was young, I always craved authority, but back then, I had no idea what it truly meant.”
The old king spoke as if confiding. Some things he could only say to this Iron Hand. Before his ministers, he was a dignified and wise ruler.
“How many dissidents have you eliminated for me? Cough, cough, cough, cough…”
The old king covered his mouth with his fist, letting out a dry cough that seemed to rattle his lungs.
“Two hundred and fifty-seven people.”
Su Xiao naturally knew how many dissidents “Iron Hand” had eliminated for the old king—this was crucial information.
“That many already? Power has led too many astray, but they’ve forgotten that beyond the Wall of the Gods, there are still the undead who want to exterminate humanity.”
The old king leaned back on his throne. A strand of saliva from his cough clung to the beard on his chin, but he paid it no mind.
“Iron Hand, can I trust you?”
The old king leaned forward, his eyes no longer cloudy but sharp as a blade, as if they could pierce through a person’s heart.
“Of course.”
Su Xiao’s reply was concise. The old king withdrew his piercing gaze.
“I don’t have much time left.”
The old king still stared at Su Xiao. Summoning him in secret today meant there was definitely something important.
“…”
Su Xiao didn’t speak, only met the old king’s gaze.
“This secret, you must not reveal even on pain of death.”
“Understood.”
Su Xiao’s tone remained calm.
“My children are all on their way to the Holy City. Among them will emerge the next heir to the throne.”
The old king’s words signaled that the main topic was coming.
“Only those wise enough are worthy to inherit the throne. This is what Iron Crown King passed down, what has kept the kingdom thriving to this day.
My children, in total, number about… forty-eight, no, forty-nine. Among them, there may be one capable of inheriting the throne, or there may not. But regardless, the surname ‘Herbert’ will never die out. That’s one of the reasons we can resist the undead.”
The old king spoke slowly, as if even talking was becoming an effort.
“Iron Hand, once they gather in the capital, the struggle for power will begin. I want you to assist the victorious heir, just as you assist me now.
Before the heir emerges, watch them for me. If any harbor rebellious intentions, deal with them.”
The old king’s tone was casual, yet what he spoke of eliminating were his own flesh and blood.
Hearing this, Su Xiao understood the situation.
First, the old king wouldn’t live much longer due to his failing health, so he needed to choose a successor quickly.
The succession of the Saint Sordin Kingdom was somewhat complicated, involving a matter of priority.
The first tier of candidates were the old king’s children. These princes and princesses didn’t usually live in the capital but were scattered across the kingdom, managing various territories—similar to dukes, though this world had no such title. Their roles were analogous: they had fiefs, control over finances, but couldn’t maintain large armies. The troops stationed on their lands were all under the old king’s command.
Princes and princesses lived in the capital until age fifteen, after which they were granted territories. This was essentially training in leadership and governance, cultivating future kings.
Except for a very few, most princes and princesses were ambitious and eager to inherit the throne. This was driven by two factors: the desire for immense power and the impending power struggle.
When the old king was nearing death or approaching seventy, these children would be summoned to the capital. However, they had a choice: refuse the summons, effectively renouncing their claim to the throne.
If they accepted and came to the Holy City, it meant they were entering the power struggle.
During this struggle, they would use any means to eliminate or drive away competitors, as long as they didn’t openly tear each other apart. They could assassinate, poison, drain each other’s power, cut off financial resources, and so on.
The criterion for victory was simple: whichever prince or princess could ultimately remain in the Holy City would be the heir.
This bloody competition could, of course, result in all princes and princesses failing. If that happened, the second tier of candidates would be activated.
The second tier consisted of dozens of heirs the old king had cultivated within the Holy City. To some extent, these heirs had met the old king more often than his own children.
These people weren’t of royal blood, but upon gaining the right to inherit, they would be granted the surname “Herbert.” Their origins came from nationwide selection.
It was worth noting that the Saint Sordin Kingdom’s mechanism for electing a new king was quite interesting—it wasn’t purely hereditary.
The power struggle among princes and princesses could loosely be considered hereditary. Those who could win such a struggle were certainly capable of being king. Even if something went wrong, the old king could veto that heir.
The second-tier heirs were even more intriguing. They were talents selected through layers of screening. Showing brilliance in youth, after years of royal training, they mastered the art of kingship and were fully capable of governing the kingdom.
This second tier was somewhat akin to an electoral system.
With the interplay of these two systems, the likelihood of a tyrant emerging was greatly reduced. Without a certain level of ability, one couldn’t even hope to become king—surviving the power struggle would be a blessing.
[Tip: The Hunter has activated the main quest.]