Hate me, Miss Witch!

His gaze fell, and just as he was about to take further action, he suddenly became aware of the sharp aura beside him.

"Your Highness wishes to break the balance that has long existed between the Royal Family and the oath-sworn families for a mere commoner who speaks recklessly," Guderian withdrew his gaze, looking at the silver-haired Princess beside him, and spoke neither humbly nor arrogantly.

"Whether he is the orphan of the Winter Flower Family or a commoner with no background at all... I really don't care."

"But first—he is the Swordbearer I have chosen."

Isadella's resolute words echoed aloft.

Although she was wearing a court gown at this moment, the chilling aura she exuded only reminded one of the battlefield strewn with corpses and blood.

The Empire's Princess was never one of those who graced balls and banquets with elegance, deftly navigating among the various nobles and lords.

Her fame was earned through genuine battlefield honors.

Her figure, clad in the Black Vulture military uniform, was the Empire's totem and the nightmare of countless enemy soldiers and commanders.

She extended her pale finger, making a motion as if grasping something in mid-air.

The next instant, countless pale golden ephemeral light points converged in The Void.

Then, those ephemeral light points gathered between Isadella's fingers to form the outline of a hazy Sacred Sword.

Although it was only a blurry shape, when Guderian's spiritual power swept over the Sacred Sword, the suddenly shining brilliance of the stars made even a legendary figure like Guderian unconsciously avert his gaze.

"I had not expected that Your Highness would truly gain the recognition of Excalibur."

Feeling the nascent form of the Sacred Sword before him and the immense mystical power it contained—far exceeding the Legendary Limit—Guderian's words also took on a weighty tone.

"However, before it has fully awakened and while still restrained, to unleash the true name of a Sacred Relic..."

"Is Your Highness not afraid that the efforts of over two years could be in vain?"

Isadella did not answer but simply maintained the gesture of grasping the Sword hilt.

The Sacred Sword, brimming with immense mystical power, flickered between reality and illusion, its radiance mirroring the light of the Astral Realm.

Yet the intense sharpness already locked onto the old man before her.

In that moment just prior, Isadella had truly believed that Shiayar would choose to forget his hatred and embrace everything offered by the Borgia family. But he didn't. Even with such sincerity shown by the Borgia family, in the end, Shiayar still chose not to betray. Isadella knew well that Shiayar's choice wasn't necessarily influenced by the Royal Family... but regardless, at this tumultuous juncture, the young man had indeed stood on her side. At this moment, it was only right for her to offer her own sincerity.

Guderian retracted his gaze, making no further move.

A prolonged silence fell upon the upper chamber.

But then, the very next moment, Isadella's gaze flickered with confusion.

For she discovered that the Sacred Sword she was grasping in her hand, fluctuating between reality and illusion, had begun to tremble slightly.

As if sensing some kindred entity, the slow revival process suddenly accelerated.

What could awaken this Sacred Relic from the Ancient Era?

Guderian remained silent.

Yet below, in the midst of the banquet, chaos erupted following Guderian's words.

The reason was none other than the fact that the Family Head of the Borgia had made up his mind.

Frankly, after Shiayar's recent words and actions, most of the nobility were more inclined to believe that what Shiayar told was the actual truth.

But what of that? They were old nobles of the Empire Capital; privately, who hadn't employed similar methods to eliminate dissent?

Of course, it was somewhat embarrassing for the Borgia family to be so directly humiliated, but pride alone can't fill one's stomach...

History is written by the victors. As long as one emerges as the ultimate winner, who would care about the number of innocent bones buried along the way?

And since they were invited by the Borgia family, most of the attendees' allegiances and stances were naturally clear without needing to say more.

"I can't believe this evildoer actually impersonated the orphan of the Winter Flower Family; truly cunning."

"Now it seems that all his accomplishments within the Military Department might have been prearranged performances in conspiracy with evil followers."

"Miss Histanlia was almost married to him, luckily the man revealed his true identity in a moment of impatience..."

"Otherwise, infiltrating such a treacherous individual, who knows what kind of dangers and disasters he would have brought to the Borgia family and the Empire."

These noisy accusations suddenly ceased.

"In accordance with the ancient oath of the Crimson Blood."

"I, Histanlia Borgia, wielding the Crimson Rose Chess Piece, hereby challenge Shiayar Egutt to arbitration."

Brilliant light descended suddenly.

Within the Hall of Oaths, a circular Scarlet Rose emblem was projected, expanding continuously to become a barrier burning with crimson flames, enveloping Shiayar and Histanlia within.

In Histanlia's hand was a scarlet chess piece, as translucent as crystal, with the pattern of a rose emblazoned upon it.

"The Borgia family's Chess Piece of Oaths is actually in the hands of Miss Histanlia!"

Someone exclaimed.

There are a total of eight Chess Pieces of Oaths.

Forged at the commencement of the Empire, when the covenant of the Pure White Sword and the Crimson Blood was sealed, they were given to the 8 Great Oath-Sworn Families.