I Got Isekai’d, Well Shyt!

Vol.4 Ch.240 Alaric’s Rival

Alaric leaned forward in his sturdy oak chair, the leather creaking softly beneath him. He narrowed his gaze at his nephew across the polished table. A tension-filled silence enveloped the room, heightening the anticipation. Their eyes locked in a fierce stare-down, and both men steeled themselves for the confrontation ahead.

“What has become of you, my nephew?” Alaric’s voice dripped with disdain as he confronted the young ruler. “You’ve transformed in ways that send chills down my spine—for the future of our kingdom hangs in the balance. First, you allowed yourself to be claimed as a concubine by that Dark Elf, and now, you’ve taken it upon yourself to eliminate anyone you perceive as a threat to your throne. Your thirst for blood has spiraled out of control, and I can no longer stand idly by while you plunge us into darkness.”

Quinus' head jerked towards his uncle, a fiery glint igniting in his golden eyes. "Bloodlust!? If you have something to accuse me of, Uncle, then speak it!" he snarled, the venom in his voice unmistakable.

"So your cousin means so little to you that you’ve already forgotten you ordered his murder in the Tomb of the Horde?... You used the threat of the monster stampede that would have swept across the west of our kingdom to conceal the fact that you are a murderer, nephew. Not only did you have your new pet eliminate our spies, but you also ordered the death of those whose views don't align with yours. Marcus has been nothing but loyal and kind, yet he was killed by your retainer out of baseless fear that he might be a potential heir to the throne? Tell me, my Prince, what are we supposed to believe?" Alaric said in an accusatory tone.

Most of the major nobles who were unaware gasped at the accusation. Johan, Count Sebastian, Viscount William, and Marquess Duval were the only ones who remained unresponsive to the claims.

Princess Hilda felt a knot in her stomach after hearing Alaric's accusation. She knew she shouldn't jump to conclusions, but her mind was racing through the worst-case scenarios. She was supposed to marry this man, and she didn't want to be tied to a monster. But then an idea crossed her mind.

'It has to be the Dark Elf's fault... That's why the Divine Three chose me to marry him. I need to save him more than ever,' Hilda thought.

She couldn't allow Quinus to continue on the path of a madman. She was prepared to do whatever it took to save the Prince, even if it meant committing a sin. This could involve revealing more skin, flirting, or even kissing him to ensure he understood he was safe with her.

'I'll be the light to guide him away from the darkness of that Dark Elf! It's up to me to save him before it's too late.'

Quinus felt a surge of fury coursing through him, his eyes igniting with a fierce glow as Alaric's words cut deep. The mention of Marcus stirred a tidal wave of resentment within him—a man who had turned his back on Quinus and his loyal soldiers, leaving them to face a relentless onslaught of goblins and hobgoblins alone. This was a man who had sacrificed lesser nobles for his own ambitions, all in a twisted effort to rid himself of Quinus once and for all. The very thought fueled his rage as he prepared to lunge at his uncle, the weight of betrayal hanging heavily in the air.

'Yes!... That's it, nephew!... Come at me with all your anger! I will put an end to this farce, and you will be labeled a tyrant who needs to be removed,' Alaric thought eagerly as he waited for Quinus to lash out.

Just as Quinus was about to unleash his frustration on his uncle, he felt a gentle squeeze around his right hand. It was Rya, her touch grounding him in the moment. He turned to face her, and there it was—a warm, reassuring smile that seemed to melt away his anger.

"I love it when your eyes shine so brightly," Rya whispered softly, ensuring only Quinus could hear her.

Quin inhaled deeply, and in an instant, the fiery intensity in his eyes softened. A mischievous smirk emerged, replacing his earlier fervor with a captivating charm. 

"Let me take care of your uncle," Rya murmured, her voice a soothing balm against the tension in the air. 

Quin met her gaze with an unwavering look, a quiet understanding passing between them before he nodded. Rya’s hand found his, giving it a reassuring pat, and then her eyes drifted over to Alaric. His confident posture faltered just a fraction, a flicker of surprise crossing his face at the sight of his nephew so calm and composed.

"Well, now... Those are mighty big claims, Duke... But is that the question you really want to be asking?... Isn't there something that is plaguing your mind?" Rya asked in a sultry voice.

Alaric locked eyes with the Dark Elf as he tried to figure out what was her game.

'She thinks she can outsmart me?... This little whore doesn't know who she's dealing with,' Alaric thought with an internal smirk.

"So you aren't denying that the Crown Prince murdered my son!" Alaric said, trying to play up his anger.

Rya arched an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips as she dismissed his claim with an air of indifference. She wouldn’t allow him to spin this narrative, no matter how desperate he seemed.

“Are you curious about why I chose Quinus over Marcus?” Rya asked, her gaze locking onto the Duke’s stormy gray eyes, searching for any flicker of understanding.

Alaric froze, his mind racing with possibilities, caught off guard by her unexpected challenge.

'She knows!?... No!... This little whore is trying to distract me from my goals,' Alaric thought as he regained his composure.

"I’ve heard you have a way with words and people. I can see why Quinus likes you. Your looks are quite alluring, but I see through your charms, demon," Alaric spat out.

Rya tilted her head and narrowed her eyes.

"My, my, my... I see the resemblance between you and your son... It's unmistakable," Rya stated in a soft voice.

Alaric's blood pressure rose at the mention of his deceased son. She was one of the few people who could get under his skin with her wit and sharp tongue. Normally, his anger flared when his subordinates failed to complete tasks he assigned them, or when his plans unraveled because someone interfered with his schemes. But she was on an entirely different level. She wasn't intimidated by him at all. She was a power mage, a healer, and she had the Prince's heart in her grasp. She transformed the toothless lion that Alaric loved to taunt into a creature with teeth stronger and sharper than steel. If only she had chosen Marcus. If only she had chosen the true heir to the throne. If only his plans hadn't crumbled, then Marcus would still be alive and better than ever. Marcus would have been named the next heir, and everything would have been right if she had only chosen him.

“And what is it that you see?” Alaric inquired, his voice barely concealing a simmering anger. Rya, unfazed, leaned back in her chair, a cryptic smile playing on her lips.

"When I was last in the Dark Elf tribe of Sorellia, the Divine Three attacked the citadel. I had just learned one Maja Spell. The Dark Elf knights tried to protect me and a friend from the oncoming assault. The knights failed and died in front of me, and I managed to take out a few White Knights. But I wasn't strong enough to face Sir Claudius. I thought this was how my life would end. That's when my friend exhausted his mana while casting a teleportation spell..."

Everyone in the chamber was quiet as they listened to every word Rya spoke.

"I thought it was a miracle that we survived, but I didn't realize the effects of mana exhaustion... My friend turned to dust right in my arms... It's a sight I pray I never have to see again... However, after I regained my composure, I realized I didn't know where I was... Just stranded in a forest filled with goblins... It turned out that I was teleported right next to the Tomb of the Horde. After being chased by countless goblins, I somehow fell through a hole in the ground and landed in an underground lake, part of the labyrinth... My only goal was to escape the labyrinth and survive... But as I roamed the tunnels trying to avoid the goblins, was when I first witnessed the Royal Party sent to deal with the Dungeon Core... At the time, I was hiding in the shadows when I first saw Quinus and his two retainers, Sir George and Percy, in the front... And then there was Marcus with his three Mercenary Bodyguards...

"Quinus and his men were fighting a large group of goblins that didn't let up, while Marcus and his men seemed more like they didn't even care to fight as they sat back waiting for something... At first, I didn't care. I thought they were a good opportunity to distract the goblin horde, and I could get to the surface with no problem... But I watched the group of men fight, and once one of Quinus' retainers got injured, he was distracted by helping protect his men. That's when Marcus made his move... He left Quinus and his men to die at the hands of the Horde... But Quin was strong enough to use his enchanted sword to rid the Horde... I have never seen such destruction in my life... He showed bravery, loyalty, and kindness..."

The room was quiet as the members took in the new information.

"Quin and his men would have died when a few hobgoblins hiding in the stalactites jumped on top of them while their guard was down. I tried to tell myself to stay out of strangers' problems, but I couldn't bear to watch innocent men die. So, I emerged from the shadows and eliminated the remaining hobgoblins, saving their lives. It was the best choice of my life; I just didn't know it at the time. Anyway, I changed my mind about leaving the labyrinth and decided to tag along with the party to destroy the core. It didn't take long to catch up to Marcus and what remained of his bodyguards. That was when I got a good look at Marcus and discerned what kind of man he was. It's similar qualities that I see in you, Alaric..."

The Duke clenched his jaw and tried not to make any sudden moves.

"When Marcus and his only surviving bodyguard were disarmed, Marcus, with his Achilles tendon cut and his arm severed, looked at Quinus... begging for mercy... It was at that moment that I truly understood who he was... weak, cowardly, stupid, disloyal, and worst of all... a traitor..." Rya said, disgust evident in her voice.

Alaric had never felt such a rage before as he listened to Rya.

"Marcus played foolish games, and he lost his head because of it... That's why I chose Quinus. He's a man of honor and loyalty. A man I can trust to be with me forever... Plus, I'm a sucker for a man with golden eyes," Rya smirked as she glanced at her fiancé.

Rya didn't realize that her latter comment struck a deep chord within Alaric. That was one of the main reasons he lost his claim to the throne. He didn't possess the Meredydd golden eyes that all Meredydds were meant to have. Instead, he inherited his mother's gray eyes, and the court at the time considered him a bastard child. Once his younger brother was born with golden eyes, they swiftly declared Cyndre as the next in line and the true heir to the throne.

It was then that Alaric's heart turned cold, and he vowed to secure the throne for his son at any cost. However, fate always seemed to conspire against him whenever he was just a step away from success. And this was one of the final straws that broke the camel's back. He felt the world crashing around him.

The armrest of his chair creaked ominously under the pressure of his tightening grip, each crack echoing his rising frustration. He was on the verge of an eruption, a storm brewing within him, but he couldn’t afford to let her claim victory. She would not triumph over him this time. Not ever.

"What? Are you okay, Duke?" Rya asked in a teasing tone as Alaric looked like a steaming tea kettle.

Alaric cleared his throat and tried not to give in. "I'm not fine," he said through gritted teeth.

Rya raised an eyebrow, inching closer with a mischievous smile. "Oh? And what’s got your feathers all ruffled?"

"Because you claim my son is a traitor, yet you have presented no evidence to support this. My son would never act dishonorably," he said with conviction.

Rya leaned back in her chair and chuckled. "You've got it all wrong, Alaric... Where's the evidence that shows he isn't a traitor? The fact that you even have to ask is proof enough for me..."

Alaric's right eye twitches uncontrollably, a subtle but persistent spasm that reveals his struggle to stay composed. The tension in his brow deepens, and he feels the weight of rage pressing against his chest, even as he forces himself to take a steady breath.

"You can't argue with facts. And the fact that you are a convicted traitor speaks for itself. You tried and failed to kill Quinus in the past, and your son failed in the future... The only difference is that you somehow still have your head attached to your shoulders, unlike your son... I don't know how the fates haven't caught up with you yet..." Rya said, tilting her head and smirking.

Duval wore a nervous smirk because he was the one who had accidentally saved Alaric's life all those years ago.

Alaric finally lost it and slammed his hand on his desk. He was about to yell when Duchess Leandra had her own outburst.

"You lying, little bitch! You murdered my son!" Leandra roared from the audience.

"Oh, you are a feisty one, aren't you?" Rya smirked at the noblewoman, who stood up from her seat, causing a commotion around her as everyone was murmuring to themselves.

"Calm down, Duchess Leandra. Please, have a seat. We don't need you acting hysterical in front of the court," the Prime Minister yelled while banging his gavel.

"Oh, shut up, you miserable little man!... You couldn't prevent this harlot from entering the Kingdom, you couldn't stop her from entering the palace, and you couldn't stop her from taking over this entire meeting! You're worthless as your position," she spat at the Prime Minister, who dropped his gavel in shock.@@novelbin@@

The audience gasped at her outburst while Quinus, Rya, and their friend couldn't help but chuckle at her words.

"If it makes you feel any better, your son didn't suffer," Rya said as she made Leandra look her way with a glare.

"How dare you!" Leandra was about to walk down the steps onto the chamber floor, but her husband stopped her.

"Now isn't the time, my dear. Don't play into her game. She wants us to lose our composure... The court has been waiting for this day. They want us to fall," Alaric said with an angry tone.

"I hate this," Leandra said, her lip quivering. She yearned for revenge for her son's death, and this Dark Elf mocked Marcus, even though his treachery was undeniable.

"We can't discuss it here with them listening. Elves ears are much sharper than ours, remember?" Alaric whispered to her.

"You can say whatever you like, Duke. I won't mind. I'll wait till the end of the meeting to respond to your questions if it makes you more comfortable," Rya said as her smirk widened.

Both glanced at the smiling dark elf and were shocked to see her ears twitch and her eyes narrow. They realized their whispered words hadn't gone unnoticed, and if they continued, they would be providing her with the perfect ammunition for their downfall.

"Go on... Your secrets are safe with me," she said mockingly.

Leandra looked back at her husband and nodded.

"Fine," Leandra said as she sat back down next to Hilda.

Just as Leandra was about to sit, Duval finally found his gavel and hit it against the table.

"Order! I will have order in this chamber! And if Duchess Leandra has another outburst like that, then she will be escorted out of the chambers. Is that clear?" he asked.

Leandra looked at the Prime Minister as if he was an idiot. But she stayed silent.

Terenthiel leaned over towards Prince Zane and whispered, "This is why women aren't suited to rule the country."

"I can't tell if they are brave or stupid," Zane replied as he looked at Leandra.

"Unfortunately, it's a mixture of both... Tell them that they are fat, and they get angry, tell them they are skinny, and they get angry because they starve themselves... They're unreasonable creatures that can't be trusted," Terenthiel replied.

"Women are the most dangerous creatures in all of existence," Zane said.

"Yes, I've always thought that women and snakes were related," Terenthiel nodded his head.

Rya wanted to laugh at those two idiots, but she looked behind her to Nieren and Yuliana, who were sitting in the far back. The wood elves heard what the two foreign princes were talking about and they wanted to beat them up.

"I'm gonna cut off his balls and use them as fertilizer for my plants

"Sis knows how to deal with men like them," Nieren giggled.

Yuliana looked at both of her daughters and said, "Don't ever let a man talk down to you or think that they can treat you like an object."

"Well, I'm covered, Mom," Rya said as she turned forward.

"Yeah... Well, you don't have to show off, Sis. Men like the Crown Prince don't grow on trees," Nieren pouted as she looked at Rya.

Yuliana sighed, "Nieren, you just haven't looked hard enough. I'm sure that there is plenty of men like the Crown Prince. Just take your time."

"But there's only one Crown Prince... Unless I can clone him?" Nieren mumbled as her eyes drifted toward Quinus. The back of his neck looked so strong, and his dark red hair looked soft to the touch. Her mind started playing back all the passionate moans he made when making love to Rya.

Her face started heating up, and she was feeling a little too warm in the chamber as she started to rub her thighs together.

Dalia, who was leaning in the back of her chair, was bored out of her mind. These humans were talking about boring things like voting, tariffs, taxes, and some other political crap.

Her mind almost drifted off until her nose picked up Nieren's mating scent.

"Huh!? Woody?... Why are you giving off your mating scent, again?" Dalia mumbled as she leaned over and smelled Nieren's head.

"Hey... stop it! You're mistaking it for something else, wolf!" Nieren mumbled as her face turned crimson red.

Dalia just shook her head and leaned back in her chair.

'F-Fantasizing is fine, Nieren... But I need to stop thinking about my prince and pay attention. Sis needs to have her back

Leandra was glaring at Rya while she turned her head to the other two wood elves in the audience. At first, she thought nothing of it. That was until she noticed how the blonde elf was looking at her nephew. It was the gaze of a girl who had fallen in love.

'Well, well, well?... I think that she's interested in the Crown Prince... This could work out nicely for me,' Leandra smiled as her hand rubbed her chin.

Hilda saw the Duchess's smile, and it made her curious.

"Lady Leandra?... Is there something amusing?..." Hilda asked.

Leandra snapped out of her thoughts, looked at the princess, and smiled, "It's nothing, Princess. Just something interesting... I'll tell you later."

'Hmm?... Maybe I can convince Hilda to sneak the AphroAroma Wick into the Prince's chamber when that blonde elf comes in, and they make love?... Surely that will send that stuckup little bitch running back to the dark forest where she belongs... The Dark Elf's heart will be ripped out, and then my nephew will live in despair for betraying his future bride... Then, Alaric can kill you, Quinus... And my son Marcus will avenged... Heheheheh...' Leandra thought.

"Alright, now that we have settled down, let's continue with the meeting by—"

"Now that I’ve dealt with the concerns of one religious idiot and the traitor, let's wrap up our discussion about the trade deal, shall we?" Rya interrupted the Prime Minister again, smiling kindly while being glared at by Terenthiel and Alaric.

Duval felt a surge of irritation as the Dark Elf cut him off yet again. He was on the verge of bringing his gavel down with force when a voice broke through the tension. 

"I’m quite curious about the numbers," Lord Johan interjected smoothly, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "What do you think, Earl Nathaniel?"

As the Earl stroked his chin thoughtfully, he couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of the Prime Minister, whose discomfort was practically palpable. Nathaniel reveled in the spectacle, enjoying the moment far too much.

"I see no reason not to hear the rest. Lord Eamon, as the Minister of Trade and Commerce, do you want to discuss the trade deal?" Nathaniel asked.

Eamon sensed the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him as he pondered the intricacies of the situation. His domain's finances had stagnated alarmingly, a consequence of Duval's steadfast decree forbidding him from taxing the goods flowing from the prosperous Berger Domain. This decision had led to a significant loss of revenue—money that was desperately needed. If he couldn't secure a new source of income soon, both he and his domain would face dire consequences.

As he considered the prospect of a trade deal with the Earl, a glimmer of hope ignited within him. Such an arrangement could provide the lifeblood his domain so sorely needed to revive its faltering economy. He wondered: why shouldn't he entertain the possibility of this alliance?

Duval shot Eamon a piercing glance, an unspoken warning to abandon this reckless line of thought. But Eamon, resolute and undeterred, chose to follow his own path. 

Turning his attention to Nathaniel, he spoke with a calm urgency, "Let's make this quick... We have other matters to discuss." 

In that moment, Duval felt a surge of despair, almost wanting to cry out in frustration as he watched his closest ally defy him, putting the fragile balance of power at risk for the sake of this fleeting opportunity.

'Why does no one respect me!?' Duval screamed in his head as he dropped his gavel onto his desk.