Wuxiaworld > Release that Witch > 45 The Conspiracy Part I

45 The Conspiracy Part I

When the moon started to set, Gerald Wimbledon saw the flickering silhouette of the city wall of the king's city.

After a few months, he was finally back. Thinking of that, he felt the fatigue of the long journey diminished greatly. But he still remained vigilant, and tightly pulled his horse, beckoning his assistant to go ahead and inquire about the situation.

If the plan did not change, Astrologer Ansger should have already replaced the city guards with Gerald's men. After the assistant shot out the signal, Ansger would let down the side drawbridge.

Gerald kept his eyes wide open, as if he was afraid to miss the faint fire.

He did not have to wait long, but Gerald felt like time had stopped. When his eyelids became too weary, he finally saw the distant flickers—twice under the city wall, and thrice above, just like it was planned. He took a deep breath and waved his troops forward.

By the look of things, he was only one step away from the throne.

Gerald rode through the side door of the city wall, with the assistant by his side.

Behind him were more than twenty cavalries. They were all silently pulling the reins, and controlling the mount to inch forward slowly.

The city walls of the king's city were made of materials obtained from Fallen Dragon Ridge. The gray-colored stone had a dark red luster under the torch as if it was soaked in blood. The whole city wall was about 6 meters wide. And in order to build this wall that was out of this world, more than 1,000 slaves and masons died on the site.

An army of 10,000 could not overcome this impregnable wall, but yet he was sliding through it so easily. Gerald thought to himself that any loophole must have started from the inside. All of a sudden, he recalled New Holy City. Would their seemingly more magnificent and indestructible wall be destroyed from the inside as well?

"Your Highness, I've been awaiting your arrival for a long time." Marching through the gates, he saw Astrologer Ansger and a small platoon waiting. Seeing Gerald appear, Astrologer Ansger quickly dismounted, bowed and saluted.

Gerald cast his distractions aside. He was probably so excited that he unwittingly let his imagination run wild. "You did well. Have you also swopped the palace guards?"

"Your Highness, the plan had a small mishap. Silver Knight who promised to serve you, was transferred to the Southern Territory three days ago. So now there's only time to replace the palace chamber guards."

Gerald frowned, as this meant that he could not bring all the 20 people into the palace. The guards would not attempt to stop him, but would also not allow so many armed men to enter the royal premises.

"Oh well, assign me two guards from the chamber platoon. The rest can stay the entrance, and ensure outsiders don't come in and bother me." He hesitated for a second before confirming. Although the plan had changed, the situation was still under control. Father's guards would generally stay overnight in the outer rooms. As long as someone could hold them off for a moment, he was confident that he could obtain victory.

Entering the inner city, he saw everything he used to be familiar with. Although it was night, he could still recognize every street. This was his territory without a doubt. Everyone jumped off their horses, and advanced quickly toward the palace. As they arrived at the door, the cavalry spread out according to the new plan, forming an ambush outside the palace. Just like Astrologer Ansger said, although the guards were surprised as to why the prince returned at night to the king's city, they still let him enter as Gerald lied that he had something important to report.

After all, he was the eldest son of the Kingdom of Graycastle, first in line to the throne.

The prince and Astrologer Ansger went through the garden and the hall, and right in front was King Wimbledon III's residence. The astrologer lifted the torch in his hand and shook it from left to right. Immediately, guards walked out of the darkness, and knelt down to the two men. "Your Highness, please come with me."

Gerald sniffed his nose and smelled a bloody odor.

Had not the chamber guards been completely replaced? He looked at the guard by firelight, and it was someone familiar—a knight of the earl who supported his succession plans. This made him feel a little more at ease.

"Did someone get into the castle?"

"Your Highness, His Majesty summoned a maid in the evening. And when she came out, she saw our exchange," replied the other. "Please rest assured. We've dealt with it."

[A maid? Father has not touched a woman for a long time—ever since Mother died.] Gerald felt a little surprised, but now it was not the right time to bother about such a minor thing. He nodded and did not say anything more. He followed the guards into the castle, and the others followed behind them.

Gerald knew the castle like the back of his hand, and he could walk from one end to the next with his eyes closed. He had lived here for more than 20 years, and he knew exactly where the secret tunnels or hidden doors were. But his purpose now was to persuade his father to pass the throne to himself. Sneaking into the chambers was meaningless. He also had to get rid of the guards outside, so that his father could completely understand his situation. Then they could sit down and talk seriously about the attribution of the inheritance.

If he could not convince his father...

Gerald Wimbledon took a deep breath, reached out and beckoned everyone to stop. He then pulled out the hand sword at his back.

The bronze door at the end of the corridor was the only entrance to the palace chambers. Behind the door was the outer chamber, but also the last line of defense. Two to three guards were usually stationed there, so that they could rush into the chambers to protect His Majesty at the first sign of danger.

Gerald first pushed the door to open a small slot. Then he used his shoulder to bang the door, fleeing quickly into the room, whilst holding his sword in an attacking stance, but the outside chamber was silent, without a single soul. At the same time, a strong bloody stench covered his nose.

His heart flashed an unknown premonition, and he ran straight toward the bedroom.

Shortly after, Gerald witnessed a scene that he could hardly believe...

King Wimbledon III was sitting on his bed in his robes, and his upper body leaning against the pillow. His robe was open, and a hilt was inserted into his chest. Blood dripped down his raised stomach and soaked the quilt.

Standing beside his father was his younger brother, Timothy Wimbledon.

"How, how could this happen?" Gerald stood motionless.

"Just like you, my elder brother." Timothy sighed. "I didn't want to do this."

He clapped his hands, and a number of armored warriors quickly poured through the door to surround the royal prince. "This is a chess game, and I originally wanted to follow the rules. Brother, did you know? Garcia did not respect the rules from the start, of course... you too. If not, why would she rush to the king's city after hearing the astrological prophet of Astrologer Ansger? Seriously, if you didn't show up, I wouldn't know what to do."


He gritted his teeth and looked back. Astrologer Ansger stepped back and said, "I didn't lie to you. 'The Apocalypse Star is far away from Blaze day' is a metaphor that the lost has strayed from the right path, but it also has the meaning of destruction."

Now Gerald finally understood. He had fallen into a well-designed trap from the very beginning. The stench of blood at the door of the castle was not left by some maid and Silver Knight had not been transferred away. But the most disappointing fact was, Astrologer Ansger, who had taken care of him for more than a decade, and taught him to read and write from an early age, still chose the 2nd Prince—just like his father.

"Timothy Wimbledon! We're both his sons, but he devoted so much effort to you and assigned the best territory to you. Yet you were the first to lay your hands on him! You're a demon from hell!"

Anger flashed in Timothy's eyes but quickly disappeared. "Do you really think so? Dear brother, if you failed to persuade him to let you inherit the throne, would you really walk away quietly? Don't deceive yourself."