Kingdom Simulator: I, a Fallen Noble, Build a God-Level Kingdom!-Chapter 71: The Noble Sacrifice of the Young Nightingale

Chapter 71: Chapter 71: The Noble Sacrifice of the Young Nightingale

After the roar, the hall fell into an eerie silence, so quiet that the sound of a pin dropping could be heard.

The three sisters of the Nightingale family held their breath, their eyes wide open, and their pupils trembling uncontrollably.

Even when their father was alive, he would never dare to shout at His Majesty the King—no, even the slightest rise in tone would have him retreating for three days and nights to reflect. How could he ever shout like that? freewёbnoνel.com

The three sisters were stunned. There were many uncontrollable factors in this world, such as their father’s death, or their younger brother Ryanie’s sudden outburst.

As children of a lord, heirs of a noble family, how could their mental composure be so poor?

They all turned their gaze toward Ryanie, one with disappointment, one with anger, and the third with eyes that had already turned to ashes.

Forget about the ’Lord’s War’ matters for now; just this one blatant shout directly aimed at the King was enough for the royal guards to drag Ryanie out and execute him!

"Ryanie! What are you doing?!" The second sister reached out and pressed her hand firmly against the back of his head, bowing deeply with him.

The human forehead collided violently with the stone floor, producing a dull thud, and two bloodstains began to spread.

"My Majesty, please forgive Ryanie for his actions. He... I... I will properly train and educate him when we return. It will never happen again!" The second sister suppressed her pain, pleading desperately.

The King remained silent.

Only the sound of armored feet echoing across the floor in the candlelit hall could be heard, drawing nearer.

It was the royal guards.

The third and youngest fourth sisters immediately collapsed to the floor. At that moment, they even hated Ryanie—such a useless brother, incapable of properly inheriting the family estate, and now bringing about their death!

If only the second, third, or fourth siblings had been male, this would never have been the burden of this useless fool!

The Sionnas Empire had always followed a male inheritance system, with women in subsidiary roles.

Clack—clack—

Two royal guards halted behind Ryanie.

Blood was trickling down his forehead as the second sister held him firmly against the ground. Even as they heard the sounds of footsteps behind them, Ryanie dared not turn around to look.

If he resisted, the entire Nightingale family would face punishment.

Only by pleading with the King and receiving his word could they hope to survive.

Just as the royal guards were about to seize Ryanie, suddenly, the King spoke from his throne.

His lips parted lightly as he coolly said, "The Thune family has only one person left. How did he kill your father? Give me the evidence."

Upon hearing the King’s response, Ryanie seemed to go mad. He shouted loudly once more, without hesitation: "In my father’s procession, there was Uncle Aiken of the Red Eagle. He is the strongest in Nightingale Territory. If they were still alive, they would have returned by now!"

"Oh?"

A barely noticeable smirk tugged at the corner of the King’s lips. He had already figured out the cause of Thomas Nightingale’s death.

He must have wanted to use the pretext of serving the royal family to enter Thune Territory and assassinate the last member of the Thune family.

Unfortunately, he failed to return, which meant his mission was a failure. The fact that he couldn’t accomplish such a simple task showed that Thomas Nightingale had been thoroughly corrupted by theology. What a waste.

Well then, the victors have their story, and the defeated have theirs.

If that man had won, as the King, he would have turned a blind eye, silently approving the extinction of the Thune family.

Because the Thune family had already lost its momentum, whether they lived or died made no difference. Having them pushed to the brink by the Nightingale family was just the perfect way to begin weakening the Nightingale family itself.

As the King, his role was to keep these Lords in constant unrest—older Lords dying off while new Lords emerged.

He would make them serve the Empire, but never allow them to truly root their power.

In short, Lords were expendable.

"Lord Ryanie," the King said, "Since you’ve reported that your father disgraced the Empire’s honor guard, I hereby bestow upon you the title of ’The Noble Young Nightingale Who Sacrificed Family for Greater Good.’"

Upon hearing this, Ryanie thought that his bold move had won the King’s favor.

Little did he know.

The King was setting a trap for him.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Ryanie said with a smug smile.

He cast a triumphant glance at his three sisters, as if to say: "Watch and learn from my skills, your old methods are outdated!"

However.

Before Ryanie’s smug look had even cooled, the King spoke again: "Since you’ve inherited the title of Lord of Nightingale Territory, you must let others atone for your father’s unfinished sins. Your father killed an entire honor guard, dishonored the Empire, and shamed me. You should be ashamed of him."

Upon hearing this, Ryanie’s proud expression froze, and a vague sense of unease crept over him.

Sure enough, the King issued a chilling command: "His crimes must be atoned for by his closest kin. Therefore, choose two from these three. Hand them over to the royal guards for execution."

"What..."

Ryanie’s eyes widened in disbelief. He didn’t understand. How had it come to this? How was he suddenly being asked to choose two of his sisters for execution?

What the hell was going on?!

"Y-Your Majesty?" Ryanie stuttered, his tongue faltering.

"Choose," the King’s voice was unwavering, and every word seemed to carry the weight of absolute authority, as if it could crush the world beneath it.

Ryanie was frozen, his body going cold as he looked helplessly at his three sisters, his expression falling apart like a child who had gotten into trouble but didn’t know what to do.

In truth, he had gotten himself into trouble, but he wasn’t a child anymore. The heirs of noble families received a high level of education from an early age. The male heirs of other great noble families had already begun shouldering their families’ responsibilities at his age.

"Si-sisters..." Ryanie looked toward his most reliable second sister, whose forehead was bleeding, the blood streaming over the corner of her eye and down her nose, dripping onto the floor.

She seemed to be under the weight of an immense pressure, her mouth opening but unable to utter a word.

Her lips had turned pale, and her entire appearance seemed to have aged thirty years in an instant, looking even older than their mother.

"What have you done, Ryanie..." the third sister cried out in despair.

"Third sister..."

After glancing at the second sister and then the third, the royal guards behind them immediately took action—believing that Ryanie’s body language represented his choice.

The two selected were the second and third members of the Nightingale family.

Only the fourth sister, who was about Ryanie’s age, was left.

"Stay still."

The two royal guards grabbed the second and third sisters and began dragging them toward a more open area.

In the Sionnas Empire, the execution of a Lord’s bloodline was, in most cases, personally overseen by the King himself.

In other words, within this magnificent hall, countless heads had already been severed.

"No, no, no, no, no! This is not how it is, Your Majesty! It’s not like this, please don’t kill my sisters!" Ryanie was completely thrown into chaos. He stood up in a panic and reached out to stop the royal guards.

However, the royal guards raised their legs and kicked him twice. The iron boots struck fiercely at Ryanie’s knees, the agonizing pain instantly numbing his legs and forcing him to fall back to the ground.

This time, he couldn’t get back up.

"No! Ah! No! Please don’t..."

Through the tears blurring his vision, Ryanie saw that his second and third sisters did not struggle. They merely looked at him in silence.

Then, the royal guards positioned them into kneeling stances, raised their finely crafted steel swords, and struck simultaneously.

Two heads rolled to the ground, blood gushing from their necks, spraying more than three meters away.

"No..."

Ryanie collapsed to the ground, utterly heartbroken. He couldn’t understand why, all of a sudden, he had caused the deaths of his two sisters. He still didn’t understand what he had done wrong.

His father, as a lord, had been killed by someone else. Shouldn’t the King have avenged his lord?

Wasn’t that what the laws of the kingdom said?

Why was reality so different?

Why didn’t the King go and kill the members of the Thune family? Why was he continuing to kill members of the Nightingale family?

Why?!

At that moment.

The King’s cold voice echoed down from the throne, "Enough, return to your territory, Lord Ryanie Nightingale of Nightingale Territory."

Ryanie was too frightened to speak.

He lowered his head, staring at his sisters’ beheaded bodies. He didn’t even dare to look at their severed heads. He was afraid that the eyes of his dead sisters were still staring at him, blaming him.

He silently gripped the arm of his fourth sister, who was only slightly older than him. Her angry curses sounded like muffled noise in his ears.

He had no idea how he made it out of the palace.

When he regained his senses, he found himself outside the palace gates—the Nightingale family’s dark green carriage was still quietly parked under the night sky, the moonlight casting a glow on the luxurious carriage, with the jewels sparkling.

"Let go of me! You bastard!" The fourth sister’s voice, now hoarse from crying, rang in Ryanie’s right ear, accompanied by the sound of a slap.

His face bore the bruises from the slap, clearly having been struck more than once.

"F-fourth sister, I’m sorry, please get in the carriage," Ryanie muttered in a daze, releasing her and awkwardly opening the carriage door, moving the seat for her.

The coachman, having already pieced together the situation from the fourth sister’s scolding, understood what had happened. But as an outsider, he didn’t dare to say anything.

He could only remind them, "My lord, please get in the carriage. We need to leave quickly."

The night was long, and the coachman feared that Ryanie might get him killed in the Imperial Capital.

Once they were in the carriage, they sat facing each other.

Ryanie anxiously glanced around, finally managing to squeeze out the words, "Fourth sister, please don’t tell mother."