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OPI Chapter 310: A Marriage That Shook the Continent
🕑 Added 2025-03-26 14:25:45 +0000 UTC"Your Majesty, what... what did you just say?!" Henrietta wondered if she had misheard him, but King Wales met her gaze and firmly repeated, "Marry me, Henrietta. I love you!"
Her heart pounded. "This... this can't be."
"Our positions—" Panicked, she took a step back, pushing him away. "You know how impossible this is. Why—?"
"I know!" Wales interrupted, stepping forward. He gently caressed her cheek and smiled. "But I refuse to follow those rules. If no one has ever broken them before, then I'll be the first."
"But..." Henrietta bit her lip, her eyes filled with hesitation.
Wales took her hands in his, his grip firm yet gentle, his voice thick with emotion.
"I know what it feels like to lose you. The pain was unbearable. Back then, for the sake of Albion, I forced myself to stay rational, to remain composed."
"But thanks to Brimir’s blessings, and with you and Louise by my side, I reclaimed my kingdom. Yet, even as I sit on the throne, my heart feels empty... because I lost the woman I love."
"I never agreed with what Biba did. But I have to admit... he gave me the chance to fight for you. For that, I am grateful."
Even Wales himself wasn’t sure whether these words came from the depths of his heart or if they were influenced by Andvari’s Ring.
Henrietta’s breath caught as she gazed into his eyes.
"Henrietta, let us face whatever storms lie ahead together. We have the strength to defend our love—but the most important thing we need is courage."
He whispered, "I have that courage. Do you, Henrietta?"
The room fell silent.
Henrietta clenched her fists, her hesitation melting away.
"Yes!" She met his gaze with newfound resolve. "Your Majesty Wales, I will face everything alongside you!"
If he was willing to defy the world for her, then she would fight for her own happiness.
Even if the entire continent opposed them.
…
The Next Day
Queen Henrietta summoned the most influential nobles of the kingdom and publicly announced her engagement to King Wales.
She also reassured them that, even after their marriage, Tristain would remain independent.
The second statement was meant to calm any potential dissent.
She braced herself for the inevitable wave of opposition, ready with carefully prepared arguments to defend her decision.
Yet, to her surprise, the nobles in attendance did not object.
On the contrary—they voiced their support and approval.
Henrietta was left speechless. All the speeches she had painstakingly prepared were suddenly useless, and instead, the discussion moved swiftly to planning the wedding details.
Even former Queen Marianne remained silent.
Queen Henrietta couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. But at the same time, she thought that everything going smoothly was a good thing. After all, she was determined to marry King Wales.
…
The Next Day
The kingdoms of Halkeginia were left in shock by the joint announcement from Albion and Tristain.
King Wales and Queen Henrietta were getting married?!
"Hahaha! Interesting. Fascinating. Absolutely delightful!"
In the royal palace of Gallia, King Joseph burst into laughter.
The burly man, draped in a long blue fur robe, had striking blue hair. He was also Tabitha’s uncle.
"This is truly unexpected. I never imagined King Wales would have such audacity. He’s openly defying the fundamental rules of nobility."
A composed and intelligent female voice echoed from below the throne.
It was Sheffield—the same woman who, as regent of the Kingdom of Reconquista, had once led seventy thousand troops in an invasion of Tristain.
A bewitching woman with dark hair and purple lips.
"Isn’t this perfect? Now we don’t even need to make up an excuse. We can declare war under the pretense of punishing traitorous nobles!"
King Joseph’s face lit up with excitement. "Finally, the world is becoming interesting. We must thank this foolish couple for giving us such an entertaining spectacle!"
For a long time, he had been preparing for war. Not out of a desire for conquest, greed, or ambition.
Simply because he found the world unbearably dull.
In short, King Joseph was a ruler who played with the world for his own amusement. Even knowing countless lives would be lost, he couldn’t care less.
"But, Your Majesty, they have a Void user who wiped out seventy thousand troops in a single strike…"
Sheffield’s expression darkened at the memory of that blinding white light swallowing the battlefield.
"Hmm. That is a problem."
Joseph stroked his short blue beard, lost in thought for a moment. Then he smirked. "But she’s just one person. If we open multiple battlefronts, what can she do?"
"Besides, from what I understand, casting a Void spell powerful enough to incapacitate seventy thousand soldiers must take an enormous amount of mental energy. There’s no way she can use it repeatedly in a short span of time."
Sheffield suddenly understood when she heard this and looked at King Joseph with an obsessed expression: "As expected of you, Your Majesty. You truly are the perfect ruler…"
Joseph chuckled. "Well, I am a Void user, after all~"
"Now then, send a message to King Albrecht III of Germania. Ask if he’d be interested in launching a campaign to arrest those two lovebirds~"
Joseph found it hard to believe that Albrecht III, whose fiancée had been 'stolen', would simply let this go without a grudge.
If Germania and Gallia joined forces, Tristain would be crushed between them. Only Albion posed a real threat.
"Understood, Your Majesty!"
Sheffield bowed and hurried off to carry out his orders.
Joseph leaned back in his throne, gazing up at the grand ceiling of the hall.
"Now this is how the world should be—lively, chaotic. And who knows? Maybe gathering all the Void mages together will lead to something truly interesting. Let’s hope so."
...
As expected by King Joseph.
It only took King Albrecht III of the Kingdom of Germania a single day to decide—he would send troops to attack both the Tristain Kingdom and the Albion Kingdom.
With this decision, Tristain—already caught between Gallia and Germania—was now under attack from all directions except the north.
However, there was something that puzzled King Joseph—Romalia had yet to respond.
As a religious nation devoted to Brimir, Romalia had always upheld the rules of nobility with utmost seriousness.
A royal marriage wasn’t technically a religious matter. However, considering that the Pope had the authority to grant royal legitimacy, he also had the right to intervene and sanction actions that violated noble traditions.
And yet, Pope Vittorio Serevare had said nothing.
But why?
King Joseph simply couldn’t understand.
If the Pope openly condemned King Wales and Queen Henrietta, then they would truly have the entire continent turned against them.
But regardless of the Pope’s silence, once war was declared, Gallia and Germania—two of Halkeginia’s great powers—began mobilizing their armies.
With Albion capable of fielding an army of seventy thousand, their adversaries were certainly not going to hold back.
In a show of coordination, Gallia and Germania made sure their combined army totaled exactly 150,000 troops!
The two nations divided their responsibilities swiftly.
Gallia, positioned on the western side of the continent, would primarily focus on keeping Albion at bay, deploying just ten thousand troops to attack Tristain’s western front.
Ten thousand might not seem like much, but for Tristain, it was an overwhelming force—nearly 80% of their entire army.
The eastern front was a different story. Germania split its army into three divisions.
Two divisions of thirty thousand soldiers each would strike Tristain’s eastern flank from two directions.
The remaining ten thousand troops would board a fleet of magic airships, sailing across the sea to Albion’s skies, forcing the kingdom to divert forces to defend its homeland.
Simple yet effective.
There was no elaborate scheme, no intricate deception—just sheer numerical superiority and a multi-front assault.
Even with Louise, Tristain could only defend one front at a time.
Naturally, Tristain’s leadership was well aware of the situation. The kingdom was shrouded in an air of despair—no one believed they could withstand the combined assault of two great nations.
Yet, not a single high-ranking noble objected. Instead, under Queen Henrietta’s command, they did everything in their power to prepare for the inevitable battle.
But still...
Even the most skilled strategist couldn’t make something out of nothing. What could they hope to do with just over ten thousand soldiers?
“The Tristanian army will be stationed entirely on the western front. They only need to hold back Gallia’s ten thousand troops.”
In the castle’s great hall, Amatori Biba stood with a refined smile. His gaze was fixed on Queen Henrietta, seated upon the throne.
“As for Germania's forces—we’ll handle them.”
His words instantly drew shocked and suspicious murmurs from the gathered nobles. Yet, strangely enough, none dared to rebuke or question him outright.
“Excuse me… but may I ask how you intend to stop Germania’s army?”
Queen Henrietta’s voice carried a mix of confusion and skepticism.
There was no way she could entrust Tristain’s entire eastern defense to Biba without a solid plan. If he failed, the eastern front would be completely defenseless.
“Your Majesty, we have two ‘Pentagram-Class’ magic automatons. They are Albion’s latest magical war constructs, developed using ancient magic—said to be creations of the Founder Brimir himself.”
Biba had already prepared an explanation that these nobles would find easy to understand and accept.
“I see!”
A wave of realization spread through the court as Queen Henrietta and her gathered nobles nodded in understanding.
Ancient magic. The Founder Brimir.
Those words alone were enough to put their minds at ease. All that remained was for them to see the weapons in action, and their concerns would be put to rest.
It might seem absurd, but in this ‘Zero Magic World,’ the Founder Brimir’s name carried that much weight.
Except for the Elves, every human in Halkeginia was convinced that Brimir was all-powerful—the divine architect of magic itself.
If Brimir had created it through magic, then it had to be reliable.
The movements of the four kingdoms sent ripples across the entire continent of Halkeginia.
In the Kingdom of Gallia, tens of thousands of soldiers, knights, and horse-drawn cannons stretched into an endless column, marching northward.
Above them—A fleet of magic warships and airborne vessels carried high-ranking mages and an escort force, arriving at Tristain’s border ahead of the main army.
Meanwhile—The Albion Kingdom’s magical fleet had already been waiting on the other side.
Together, over two hundred magic airships filled the sky, blocking out what had once been a clear blue expanse.
They had formed their battle lines, locked in a tense standoff. Yet, neither side dared to fire the first shot.
The time wasn’t right.
For now, they simply held their positions, deploying advanced forces and mages to the ground. Earth mages immediately began constructing defensive fortifications.
But elsewhere—On Tristain’s eastern front, Germania’s two armies advanced unopposed, encountering no resistance at the border.
“The intel was accurate… They really didn’t station any troops here.”
Standing on the deck of a magic warship, Marshal Nixa gazed down at the lush green landscape below. Then, scanning the empty skies around them, he saw no sign of enemy airships.
“What is Queen Henrietta thinking?”
“Hah… Marshal, maybe she’s already given up.”
A general smirked. “Even if they gathered every soldier in the kingdom—hell, even if they conscripted civilians—they wouldn’t have more than twenty thousand troops.”
“They’re barely holding off Gallia’s forces as it is. How many could they possibly spare to stop us? We’ve got a full thirty thousand right here.”
But Nixa wasn’t as optimistic. He simply shot him a glance.
“Slav, have you forgotten about the Void user? If we run into them, you and I better be ready to die—or get captured.”
“Ack—cough—” General Slav hesitated, suddenly uneasy. “Come on, our luck can’t be that bad… right?”
“Gallia is only sending about ten thousand troops against Tristain. Meanwhile, each of our two armies has thirty thousand. There’s no way they’d send the Void user against Gallia. That means there’s a fifty percent chance we’ll be the ones to face them.”
But before Nixa could finish his sentence—A streak of golden light suddenly flashed before his eyes.
A second later—A deafening explosion rocked the sky as a magic warship, just two hundred meters to the left, was instantly engulfed in a fiery inferno.
The mages and soldiers aboard never even had time to scream.
“What the hell—?!”
