Shattered Sanity

The second course consisted of a rich vegetable soup accompanied by freshly baked bread, roasted mushrooms, herb butter, and an assortment of lightly seasoned side dishes, as after the servants quietly replaced everyone’s plates and poured the steaming soup into delicate porcelain bowls, the luncheon gradually shifted away from polite introductions and towards matters of governance.

Before long, the discussion turned towards the unusually moderate rainfall that had affected much of the Eastern Province throughout the year.

Although the drought had not been severe enough to threaten widespread famine, the reduced rainfall had nevertheless resulted in disappointing harvests across several agricultural territories, causing grain prices to steadily climb while merchants began stockpiling supplies in anticipation of further shortages.

Riven listened quietly.

Truthfully, he found the topic fascinating.

However, despite his curiosity, he wisely chose not to involve himself too deeply in the discussion.

Unlike Baron Henderson and Baroness Mellow, both of whom had spent decades administering territories and solving problems of this nature, Riven knew that he simply lacked the knowledge necessary to contribute anything meaningful.

Instead, he silently enjoyed his meal while carefully following every point raised, occasionally giving a thoughtful nod whenever a particular argument resonated with him.

As it was only after several more minutes of discussion that one particular detail finally caught his complete attention.

”I heard that Baron Ashcroft even petitioned the Heavenly Swordsman Sect to dispatch the Green Sparrow to the regions worst affected by the drought,” Baron Henderson remarked with a disappointed sigh, as he gently stirred the soup within his bowl. ”Amongst the Ascendants of the Eastern Province, few possess greater mastery over the Storm Element than he does, and with enough Aether, summoning rainfall over farmland is well within his capabilities.”

Baroness Mellow quietly nodded.

”Unfortunately, the Sect rejected Baron Ashcroft’s request outright.”

She added.

”They informed him that the Green Sparrow would only respond if the request came directly from Duke Dawnriver himself.”

Baron Henderson slowly shook his head.

”Relations between Baron Ashcroft and the White Castle have remained rather strained over the past several years, so the Baron chose not to burden the Duke with the matter.

Instead, he simply accepted the refusal.”

Riven gently placed his spoon back upon the table.

The conversation had finally reached a subject he genuinely wished to understand.

”Pardon my ignorance...”

He began politely.

”But why are the relations between Baron Ashcroft and Father so poor?”

His eyes then shifted between both Bannermen.

”And another thing puzzles me.”

”If the Heavenly Swordsman Sect resides within the Eastern Province, why do they possess the confidence to reject the request of one of Father’s Bannermen so casually?”

The question caused both Baron Henderson and Baroness Mellow to briefly exchange glances.

Neither answered immediately.

Instead, both seemed to carefully consider how much should be said.

Eventually, Baron Henderson let out a long, measured sigh.

”It is... rather a long story, Young Lord.”

He admitted, as he slowly set his spoon aside.

”However, since you have asked so directly, I shall answer as honestly as I can.”

A faint smile appeared upon his weathered face.

”Something tells me that you would value the truth far more than comforting words.”

Riven quietly nodded.

”Please go on, I’m listening.”

He said, as he gestured for the Baron to continue.

”You see, Young Lord, the Eastern Province is rather unique compared to every other province within the Empire.”

”There is the Duke...

And then there are the rest of us Barons.”

He smiled faintly before continuing.

”We have no Counts.

No Viscounts.

Only Barons serving directly beneath House Dawnriver.”

Riven quietly listened.

”In every other province, ambitious noble families gradually climb the ranks. They expand their territories, increase their population, strengthen their economies, distinguish themselves in war, and once they satisfy the Imperial requirements, they are eventually elevated from Barons to Viscounts, or from Viscounts to Counts.”

He paused briefly.

”Within the Eastern Province, however, things have always been different.”

”Although the Empire may approve a noble house for promotion, the title itself cannot be formally bestowed unless Duke Dawnriver chooses to recognise it.”

”And for generation after generation, every Duke of House Dawnriver has refused to do so.”

Riven’s expression remained unchanged.

”So even if a Baron fulfils every requirement... He remains a Baron.”

He said, as—

”Precisely.”

Baron Henderson replied.

”Now, this is hardly a new policy. It has existed for centuries, and most Houses eventually accepted it as simply another tradition of the East.”

His expression gradually darkened.

”However, everything changed during the Border Campaign 50 years ago.”

A heavy silence briefly settled over the luncheon table.

”The campaign that claimed the life of your eldest brother.”

Baron Henderson continued.

”Nearly every Bannerman contributed men, supplies, food, and wealth towards that war. Many Houses suffered tremendous losses, yet the common understanding amongst us was that once victory had been secured, those whose sacrifices proved greatest would finally receive the rank of Viscount, bringing an end to a tradition that many believed had already outlived its purpose.”

He slowly shook his head.

”Unfortunately... that never happened.”

”Whether it was because the Duke had lost his firstborn son...

Or whether he had simply changed his mind...

None of us truly know.”

”All we know is that once the war concluded, the Duke declared that the old customs would remain unchanged.”

His fingers gently tapped against the table.

”That decision left many proud Houses feeling as though decades of loyalty had gone unrewarded.”

”Baron Ashcroft was among the first to openly express his dissatisfaction.”

”And Baron Blackthorn soon followed.”

”Since then, relations between those Houses and the White Castle have steadily deteriorated.”

A tired sigh escaped him.

”Nowadays, whenever the Bannermen gather beneath the Duke’s banner, most of us still conduct ourselves with the respect House Dawnriver deserves.”

He offered a helpless smile.

”Unfortunately... there are also a few families who never allow such gatherings to conclude without making some pointed remark or another towards the Duke.”

Only then did Riven slowly nod.

”I understand.”

He said quietly.

Baroness Melina gently picked up where Henderson had left off.

”As for your second question, Young Lord...”

She began.

”The Ascension Sects occupy a rather unusual position within the Empire.”

”Although they reside inside Imperial territory, they are not governed by Imperial law in the same way noble Houses are.”

”Their internal affairs remain entirely their own.”

”They pay no taxes to the Province. Only tribute to the Emperor.”

”They appoint their own leaders.”

”And except under extraordinary circumstances, they cannot be compelled to obey Imperial authority.”

She calmly folded both hands together.

”If the Duke personally sends a letter requesting assistance, most Sects will honour that request.”

”Not because they are required to...

But because refusing one of the Four Great Dukes would create enemies they would rather avoid.”

Her expression hardened ever so slightly.

”Unfortunately, they do not extend the same courtesy to ordinary Barons.”

”Their sects possess hundreds, sometimes tens of thousands of Ascendants.”

”Their combined military strength rivals, and in some cases surpasses, that of many smaller noble Houses.”

”As a result, they often consider themselves above answering to people like us.”

She spoke those final words without attempting to conceal her displeasure.

”In this particular case, the Green Sparrow is no ordinary Ascendant.”

”After the Stormborn were exterminated several centuries ago, Storm Element cultivators became exceptionally rare.”

”Even among those few who still awaken Storm Aether, most possess bloodlines too weak to ever reach the higher realms of Ascension, which makes the Green Sparrow one of the very few exceptions.”

She looked directly towards Riven.

”He is arguably the greatest Storm Ascendant anywhere within the Eastern Province.”

”If he wished, he could summon rainfall from the White Castle all the way to my own territory nearly five hundred kilometres away.”

She slowly lowered her gaze towards the untouched soup before her.

”But he will not.”

”And therein lies my greatest grievance with many of the larger Sects.”

Her voice became noticeably colder.

”They possess enough power to prevent famine, protect entire provinces from disaster, and spare countless innocent lives, yet unless doing so benefits their own Sect, they rarely lift a finger.”

She let out a quiet sigh.

”So yes, Young Lord...

If you ask for my personal opinion...

There is very little in this world that I despise more than powerful Ascendants who hide behind the prestige of great Sects while convincing themselves they stand above the people they should have been protecting.”

She explained as listening to both explanations in full, Riven finally felt as though the political landscape of the Eastern Province had become considerably clearer than it had been only moments before.

He now understood that the ordinary Barons and Baronesses of the Empire despised the great Ascension Sects.

At the same time, the sheer scale of an Ascendant’s power left Riven deeply astonished.

The thought that a single individual could summon rainfall across hundreds of kilometres of land was so far beyond anything he had ever imagined that it completely reshaped his understanding of true strength.